While
waiting for the Librarian to come down and the Beacon to wake up The Poet
decided to go check on the Man. Not wanting to take any chances he didn't open
the back door but rather just peeked through the slot above its knob. There the
Man lay in the snowbank, lifeless. It looked like he had been dead for some
time, as strange as that sounded after everything he had seen. It didn't
matter. Nothing else lately had been making any sense so why should this.
Luckily he didn't have to dwell on the topic for very long. The Beacon woke up.
Joining
the Pestilence at her side they tried to make her as comfortable as possible.
She had been beaten pretty bad. Nothing life-threatening, but enough to leave
her bruised and feeling fairly helpless. Offering her a glass of water the
Librarian joined the group, eager to learn just what exactly had transpired
since he went to bed. Not wanting to provoke the Pestilence in any way however,
he decided to bypass the pile of ash and ask the Beacon how she was doing and
what she remembered.
Her
mind was foggy. Bits and pieces of what happened where a blur. She remembered
letting the Man in very clearly. After that is where it cut in and out. Only a
few of the wild swings she had made at Jazmin could she replay with any
certainty in her mind. There was a feeling of no control over her body at those
times. That is what she remembered most prominently about these transgressions.
She could picture Jazmin standing before her very vividly, yet with out any
will of her own she struck at her for no reason at all. There was no sensible
way to put it. It was like she was being possessed.
The
Librarian disagreed. That was a perfectly sensible way to put it. Reading up on
the Frozen Abyss he had just recently finished a story about that very
phenomenon. It was the tale of the Shadow Demon. Legend spoke of him as a
monster who could posses the bodies of the living and the dead to do as he see
fit. Spreading havoc was his aim, using family members as his pawns to force
families to kill there own. Just being a demon was enough for most people to
dislike him, but being a monster who turned families against each other made
him the most hatred creature in all the Realms. Eventually the mobs started
getting close and so he sought refugee in the Frozen Abyss. Or so many people
assume at least. All that's really known for sure was that he disappeared some
hundreds of years ago and hasn't been seen since.
Listening
to the Librarian's tale the Poet couldn't help but think it true. After all,
the Man seemed proof enough to him of his ability to possess the dead. The
Pestilence was less convinced, but she knew firsthand of the abnormalities of
this world. There was no reason for her to deny the possibility. And the Beacon
had been told of the existence of demons her whole life. She had never hoped to
meet one though, let alone let it grasp at her soul. Perhaps this was a trial.
Perhaps it was a test of her faith. Or perhaps she was just being optimistic
and already had her foot halfway in the grave. Then again, who didn't if they
were willing to come here?
At
the edge of the Frozen Abyss an ancient power stirred. The Shadow Demon felt
the tether to his spirit self get ripped away by the eyes of the Pestilence.
Intrigued by this he rose from his cave dwelling for the first time in a
hundred years. He had to see this bunch in person. He had never imagined to see
another creature born of darkness come this far north. Perhaps they too had a
heart as dark as his. Or perhaps he would just have to slay them all.
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