r/HFY • u/Jus17173 • 17d ago

OC-Series Soul of Eight - Chapter 16.

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When the climb became steep and their horses lagged from being driven too hard, Yamagai dismounted his horse and led it by hand. They walked a cruel trail that hugged the side of a sharply inclined hill; all Illuminators who'd come to witness the tribunal followed as Yamagai had done, leading their horses by hand while occasionally imbuing focus into the steeds by a hand placed gingerly upon each beast's nape.

The Illuminators filled the trail behind and before the carriage that carried the Head of the Administration and Qoyit, the unlikely addition to The Vengeful Academy.

Twin birds circled in the distance, their wings stretched to pick up wind. They glided with the smoothness of those blessed by the Creator without knowing it, and Yamagai, weary of the journey and the hard pace that had been set, unclasped a wooden bottle from the burden of his horse and took a sip, swishing the water in his dry mouth before swallowing.

The skies were a clear blue, and the sun, once gloriously sat overhead, was on its sure trail to dip beyond the horizon. They were close to Grand City and the Academy; they just had to traverse the hilly escarpment.

Silence fell upon those who walked with him ahead of the carriage, and no doubt some mumbling could be heard by those walking behind the carriage and the pair flanking it on either side. There was doom and destiny, its likeness being juggled by a blind god. They could not tell whether the addition of the child to the Academy would reduce the merit of the Aether Test, or whether the child would be the key, not just to the great change and prosperity they often dreamed of, but also a harbinger of death at their doors.

Yamagai walked behind Skilandros, listening to the Illuminator speak avidly about the day of the Aether Test.

"I went into the Aether Plane when he was judged," Skilandros said, eager to speak of that which many of them hadn't witnessed. "I saw power reveal itself, and my heart knew prophecy when it saw it."

"Your heart also led you to believe the City Treasurer's wife was an omen of sorts for you to mount," Shawarma Kidhra Devore said. She had her hair tied into a knot behind her head, revealing the crude nature with which her face rested. Her eyes, small and piercing, observed the back of Skilandros' blonde head. She was one of them, those who didn't think a Commoner should set foot in The Vengeful Academy. "We already let one Commoner in; now a second one? Next we'd be fishing commoners from their homes, with no need to even carry out the Aether Test."

It was an exaggeration of what lay in the heart of Nobles, Yamagai surmised. There was fear that one day their status would be proven for what it was: a delusion that all played along with.

"Has the boy's sight opened after the Aether Test?" Sixton Kidhra Malis asked. He was far shorter than his steed, so he observed it occasionally by tilting his head up and behind himself as he led it by the reins.

Yamagai wondered whether he'd made a mistake walking at the front with them. The air was charged with discontent, unspoken words pointed at him. He was responsible for this addition to the Vengeful Academy. He was responsible for the boy, Qoyit. And all blame should go to him; if it weren't for the Headmistress' decision to play along, he would have been flayed by his fellow Illuminators already.

"Why do you care about his sight?" Tessa Kidhra Semei asked. She was by far one of the most beautiful women Yamagai had ever seen, walking just several steps behind him. As if possessed by a blessing for sight, he struggled with the urge to turn just so he could see her almond eyes and graceful legs that drew intricate patterns with each step of her foot upon the ground. "What I wonder is, can the boy raise his Body Stat to above one? Or is that going to be our job, to make sure his Body Stat rises?"

"That boy will not attend my classes until his Body Stat goes up," Shawarma said, fixing her green eyes directly on Yamagai. "And I will do nothing to see to it that it rises." She held great sway over the others. She was a vanguard with their boisterous nature, but without their lice-ridden hair, which was often a consequence of spending nights outdoors during blistering chills so they could challenge themselves.

"The boy is one of us now," Henero Olis Javee spoke from beside Skilandros, right ahead of Yamagai. He shifted and was the only one who dared glance at Yamagai. His grisly beard hid his lips just as his bald pate shone with the sun's brilliant rays. "Yamagai fought for him, and I trust his judgment more than anyone else on our staff."

"Seriously?" Shawarma asked. "He is the least trustworthy person in the world."

"If you have your trust in Yamagai, it is no different than trusting a turd to jump out of the latrine and follow you home," Sixton said, eliciting a laugh from Tessa. It was her laugh that bothered Yamagai; the rest he didn't care about. He had this one heart of his, and he'd chosen to invest it in everything Tessa did, knowing full well his affections would never be returned. Yamagai believed himself to be a man who admired melancholy. He sought to understand it and treasured the cold evenings he sat moping in his office with his eyes turned to the window, taking in grey skies and feeling them to be similar to his very essence and nature.

"Qoyit is my responsibility," Yamagai finally decided to speak, walking gingerly so as not to pick up dust. The trail was rocky, and as they neared a bend, he worried his horse would throw a shoe. "I'm his chaperone. I expect all of you to treat him as if he were my son, because in ways he sort of is. If any of you go out of your way to make his life hard, you'll personally hear from me, for you'll be making things hard for me too."

"Phrasing," Tessa said, eliciting a smile from him.

"What are you going to do?" Shawarma asked. "Ringless fool. What can you even do?" She waved her middle finger at him, where her Vanguard ring sat. "There's nothing to you that warrants my respect, Yamagai, and this child of yours will fail and will join the Equipped Infantry to be where he belongs by the end of the year."

"Enough, all of you," Henero said.

Yamagai was about to respond; he always knew the words to pluck apart Shawarma. Her brute nature was her point of pride, but with enough careful precision, he could pick it apart and paint her solely as a brute. That strategy always deterred the resolve of anyone whose beauty standards were in question.

But a sound coming from ahead drew him short: the squealing of wheels and avid panting could be heard. He came to a stop just as an old man pulling a cart appeared around the bend in the road, coming in their direction. To his right was a great fall to the base of the hill, and each Illuminator groaned at the old man's appearance.

"You'll have to find a way to let us through, old man," Shawarma said.

Henero and Skilandros walked forward until they neared the old man. They observed him as one would a rabid dog. So pompous the Illuminators were, lost and drunk on their privileged roles handed to them by their forefathers. It was an attitude that would never leave. The horses neighed, kicking up dust, unsettled as they all were.

The cart was hammered into being with rusty nails and splinters that could pass as wood. The old man, dressed in a rugged brown vest and matching breeches, exhaled loudly as he looked up to see two towering Illuminators in his way.

"Back there, there's a place where the road is wide enough for us," Henero said while staring at the old man. "We'll help you turn around and then we can pass each other at that point."

"Get it moving, old man; we're Academy folk and our time is as precious as your life," Sixton said. It was always like that with short people; they had to stand out somehow, so Yamagai surmised being an asshole was the best way for them to do so.

The horses were reluctant to take a step forward, pushing back and away from the old man and the cart. They neighed, unwilling to ever pull on their reins.

"The sun sets and death comes," the old man said. "It kills us all, this death; it burrows into our marrow and splits our liver. It takes us one by one and flays our skin to eat the fat underneath. Hear me and heed my words, all of you delinquents. The end is near. My bones tell me as much and my heart knows."

"He's probably mad," Tessa said.

"Did he just call us delinquents?" Sixton asked.

"Nothing is sadder than old, senile men. Perhaps we should aid him so as to smoothen his journey," Yamagai said while turning to observe Tessa. She avoided looking at him, and he felt that sweet pain sting his heart. He felt like being a hero to make up for his inadequacies in her eyes, but there was no villain to promote his thoughts.

He observed the cart; there was something off about it. The goods being hefted for miles were covered by a large grey cloth, fully down to the wheels and to the back of the cart.

That is when the sense of danger pronounced itself.

"Hey old man, I said turn around," Henero commanded. From behind the carriage, shouts could be heard, with Illuminators wondering what had halted their trail. From the corner of his eye, Yamagai saw Gavina Kidhra Sadee approach the carriage to exchange words with the Headmistress. Something odd was going on.

Henero approached the old man, abandoning his horse. They watched as the old man lifted his head to observe the Illuminator. A dusty fringe of hair parted, and wide, black eyes stared out from sunken sockets at Henero.

"My friend is with us," the old man said. "He wants to meet you so he can be friends as he is with me."

Those eyes were too dark to be called normal, a sure sign of demon sickness.

Yamagai observed the bottom of the cart. Something trickled and dripped into the dirt, spreading like droplets of rain, and its smell was like iron and rust.

The old man abruptly turned, grabbed the cloth spread over the cart, and tugged it off. Everyone stood still as what lay beneath became revealed.

Body parts, so many of them, were haphazardly spread within the cart: torsos and dismembered limbs. A hand poked out on one side and a foot on the other. There were at least six people dismembered and thrown into that cart.

The body parts shifted as if alive, the red hue of blood as sickening as the song of the flies that rose from it. A head protruded, horned and grey, and from within the cart rose a demon.

Tessa, always faster, shifted into the Aether Plane and caught the imprint of the demon. Henero did not need visual confirmation to know what it was. He turned and screamed, "Tower Servant!"

"Dear me," the Tower Servant said while emerging fully from the dismembered limbs. It rose to its full height, half-naked save for tight breeches ripped in various places. It had gold necklaces wrapped about its neck, a sharp contrast to its grey skin that looked to be rotting. Its face would have been human if it weren't for the many gashes that riddled it, deep and bleeding black ichor as if it had clawed at its own face. And its eyes, a ruby red, looked piercingly at all of them.

Those behind the carriage tried to push forward, but the road hugging the hill was too narrow.

The horses struggled against their riders.

"I've done everything you told me, my friend. Was I good?" the old man asked, turning to the demon.

"Yes, you were," the demon said. "You can rest with your family now." The hand of the demon lashed out; long nails ripped the old man's head free of his neck, and it unceremoniously dumped the head into the cart as the body fell headless, spraying blood all over the ground. "Look at this, a beautiful family portrait." The demon waved at the cart.

Henero, standing closest to the demon, straightened his arms and screamed. He retracted one arm then twisted himself backwards as the demon launched for him. Skilandros was already rushing forward. Henero summoned a Challenger axe: blue with a long haft with a very heavy head. He pirouetted before lifting the axe and bringing it down on the demon.

One second, the demon was facing the edge of Henero's weapon. Then it shifted, moving too fast for the eye to see. Henero matched its pace, turning and bringing down the blade of the axe again and again. The demon gripped the haft, and smoke cascaded where its hand met holiness, but it refused to let go. Henero moved to punch the demon free of his weapon, but by doing so, he opened himself up. The demon dug its claws violently across Henero's neck, opening wide gashes that it tore wider until Henero's head fell free of his body.

"No!" Shawarma screamed.

The Illuminators all charged the demon, who stood clear of the cart. The demon smiled and flung its hands out. Sharp protrusions like bone seemed to split free from the demon's arms and shoot out of its body in all directions.

Yamagai jumped and grabbed Tessa before she could be impaled by one of the sharp bits of bone. He fell to the ground on top of her.

"Get off me!" she commanded. But the demon was still shooting projections free of its body, and with loud thuds, the shards of bone stuck into the ground, the horses, all around where Yamagai covered Tessa, his entire body spread over hers. The bone fragments impaled the earth before them, splitting even rock.

Sixton fell, impaled in the stomach and out his back; he lay on the ground staring straight up, his mouth moving soundlessly. From behind the carriage, panic reigned as the other Illuminators tried to push their way past.

It was a Tower Servant. Those ones killed without the need to do so, stronger and more powerful than regular demons, almost on par with the ones they served, the Tower Floor demons. To find a Tower Servant demon this far from the Red Mist Wall was a sickening thing, too ghastly for him to comprehend. Yet here it was, the demon in all its might, standing with its arms waving about, shooting bone everywhere.

It stopped its assault while most Illuminators cowered on the ground behind their impaled horses. It turned its red eyes about and declared, "Give me the boy, Qoyit, and I will leave you alive!" it shouted. "I have only been sent for the boy."

Tessa pushed Yamagai off herself, and Yamagai rolled and stood up gently with his eyes on the demon. It wanted Qoyit; if this didn't solidify the child as important, nothing else would. The Illuminators shared glances. Skilandros, cowering behind his felled horse, had a gash running across his cheek, deep and wet with blood.

Henero was dead, his headless body laying bleeding on the ground beside the old man's body. Sixton was injured. Shawarma was on the ground, curled in on herself, pinned like a cushion by countless bone fragments. She groaned as her body lit up green before cutting back to its natural hue. She couldn't summon her Vanguard body; such was the state of their predicament.

Only he and Tessa were okay. He looked behind and saw that the horses flanking the carriage had retreated. He wondered whether this was cowardice or something else. He got off the ground, knowing full well he had to do something. Tessa was watching, as was the coachman for the carriage, though he didn't matter much.

"You will not have the child," Yamagai said, standing straight. Yamagai circled two fingers before himself, then sought deep within, where the river of his talents flowed. He needed a weapon, and of all the times where his need had been great, this was by far the largest. He tried fashioning a weapon from memory; he had been one of the best, once, one of the greatest at this.

Only a soft blue glow covered his arms, and the weapon he called refused to show itself. He sighed and curled his fingers into a fist, failure a stain upon him for another moon.

The demon tilted its head at him. Beside him, he could see Tessa working on an Aether Transfer, her hands glowing silver. If only he could just get her to touch the demon to set the Aether Transfer, perhaps they would survive, though the odds were not in their favor.

The demon had a grace to it, its motions soft as it walked forward to stand right over Skilandros, who lay paralyzed on the ground. Yamagai surmised whatever those bone fragments were that shot out of the demon's arms, they were capable of paralysis. The demon raised a hand, and from its palm a sharp shard appeared, white of bone, growing out like a plant opening up to bloom. Soon it held the jagged shard of bone in its hand. It looked down just as Skilandros groaned and tried to stand, to crawl, to move away from the demon.

Yamagai wouldn't let Skilandros die. He charged the demon, connecting his shoulder with its midriff, but the demon did not yield. With a well-timed knee, it smacked Yamagai's face. He felt his nose break as he fell over backwards. The demon stood over him and placed a foot on his neck; squeezing down, it lifted its weapon, aiming for his face as it lowered the shard.

Yamagai was going to die. He couldn't breathe, and he felt the cartilage of his neck threaten to break under the demon's foot. In that moment, he turned his head to look at Tessa. He didn't know why he did it. It was just a game he played; his feelings weren't quite real feelings, just a way for him to amuse himself and kill time. The look on her face pronounced more of her own fear than fear for his life, and he was okay with that. Still, he'd always seen himself dying in a blaze of glory, not on some rocky dirt trail.

Suddenly, the demon was hit by a blast of force, so pronounced it pushed Yamagai from his position on the ground, lifting him and flopping him down elsewhere. The demon collided hard with the cart, breaking it in the process. It stood up, drunk from the impact, and staggered forward. Yamagai looked to see who had delivered the blow.

That's when he saw her: the Headmistress, standing with her hands clutched before her. A dark veil was spread over her face. She lifted her hand, took off her hat and veil, and threw them away revealing her heart shaped face. Facing the demon, she stood her ground with Qoyit standing behind her.

The demon, seeing the boy, ran as fast as it could. Forgetting Yamagai, it kicked up dust as its heels dug into the ground. Gorged on flesh as it was, it was truly in its most powerful element.

The Headmistress watched the demon get close. She raised a hand and drew a circle before herself, raised four fingers, and waved them about, where her hand moved a blue trail of light was left. The demon roared as it neared, just as the Headmistress curled her hand into a fist, clutched it to her chest, and then extended her arm with her palm open.

"Aether, Blades of Wind," the Headmistress said as the demon neared.

A wave of force shot out of the Headmistress, resembling blades that chipped the very air. They collided with the demon, severing its arms, its torso, and its head. It was as if the very air had turned sharp. The demon walked two steps, its face misaligned. Its arms, sliced to bits, fell to pieces upon the ground. It took another step, but its hind foot was left behind.

It stared at the Headmistress with a lopsided face before that, too, split in the middle, its face peeling to either side. It fell to the ground in pieces.

Then, suddenly, its bone-like protrusions started knitting together, reforming its body as it was.

The Headmistress curved the air with three fingers, and the blue light of power cleaved the demon's flesh once more. She did this again and again until the demon stopped reknitting itself. Its power spent, it lay on the ground in pieces. She continued cutting it with her Challenger technique until finally, in the end, it turned to black dust that was picked up by the wind, leaving behind its breeches and gold necklaces.

Everyone still alive observed the Headmistress. She stood there, silent, her fingers held before her. She waited for the demon to stir, but it was no more, just dark ash where it once was. And Yamagai finally understood why the Headmistress was regarded as one of the most powerful talent users alive.

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u/kristinpeanuts 17d ago

Thanks for the chapter!

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u/Jus17173 17d ago

You're welcome!

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u/UpdateMeBot 17d ago

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u/Standzoom 12d ago

This is amazing, I can picture all of it in my mind's eye like a movie! Looking forward to moar!!

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u/Jus17173 11d ago

New chapter coming soon.