Born with the unfortunate gift of being observant, the Witness always found herself seeing things she should not have seen; things that had no desire of being seen, and she, no desire of seeing them. But nevertheless they always seemed to find her, imprinting themselves in her eyes and tormenting her weary soul upon those sleepless nights she found herself having all too often. Why couldn’t people just keep their discretions and secrets to themselves? And why did they always have to be so violent and dark? Didn’t anyone slink off into the night for love anymore?
Needless to say she was not happy with her life. Her curious, wandering eyes were merely a hindrance in this world, depriving her soul of the rest and peace it so deeply adored. And so she decided to relocate to a place where there was nothing to see, nothing to strain her mind or conscience; a place where she could just lie in a bed and sleep. The Frozen Abyss. It was perfect. Just arctic, lifeless tundra and a scarce amount of human interaction. While envisioning her new life she heard a policemen screaming at a drug dealer with his gun drawn, demanding a discount. She left the very next morning.
On her way to the town of Kaltbury she stumbled upon a man dressed in black going back the other way. She tried to ask him if he was all right but he just kept walking, mumbling something about demons, bards, and empty pockets. And so she just attributed his behavior to hysteria and continued down the path to Jazmin’s Tavern…Tavern? All she found was a pile of smoldering wood and ashes and some tracks leading farther into the Frozen Abyss, which, of course, she just had to follow.
Not long after spotting a dismantled corpse she caught up to those who had left the footprints. They were all stumbling around the edge of a pond and passing around a flask of some sort, perhaps intoxicated. But then they all stopped for a second and joined hands. She thought they were going to break out in drunken song, but instead they leapt into the freezing water. At first she laughed at their drunkenness, but then they never resurfaced. Had they drowned? She figured they must have and the thought of it dampened her spirits. This was the sort of thing she had come here to avoid having to see. Perhaps the Frozen Abyss wasn’t the place she envisioned it would be.
And so, disappointed, she turned to leave just as the hysterical man had before her. But unlike him, she had made her move too late. Something had taken hold of her and her mind soon went blank. Her eyes lit up red and her body reversed the direction it was headed, steering its way toward the pond where the others had just drowned. The Shadow Demon felt as though he was home free, but then a flicker caught his attention out of the corner of the Witness’s eye. He knew instantly what it was and tried to hurry the pace of the Witness. But he too had made his move too late.
Jazmin landed beside his new host, eyes as black as the Pestilence. There was no escape for him now. The Witness’s body became engulfed in ash colored flames and was incinerated into dust. The Shadow Demon’s spirit was once again forced back into his icy, prison cell at the hands of the Pestilence. How glad she was that he was not at full strength this time. She would have never beaten him if such had been the case. It wasn’t the same as it was back then, back when she and the Poet had sealed him away. Oh how the times had changed. And oh how the world has changed as well. He was now the King and she but a lowly innkeeper. Somehow it seemed their roles had been a bit different, way back when…
The Poet and the Pestilence (to be continued at a later date)
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