Chapitre 210: One In The Chamber
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Ray "Fortuned Son" Olive
Scribbling some notes into the paper in front of me, mostly wanting to ignore having to do much work, I sense a strand of fate entering Raystown. Most fates are but a small candle to a raging fire. Marshall's is a forest fire, one unable to be put out by anything but time and the zephyrs sent by the Gods; meanwhile, a random smuck on the stream is an effortlessly snuffed-out match.
This one, however? It's dark. So dark and cold that it is sucking in and devouring everything around it, consuming the future of others to bolster itself. A bottomless pit of permafrost is more fitting than any kind of fire. I stand quickly, the expensive chair I had Autumn retrieve for me being pushed into the wall behind me.
"Sir?"
I wave Autumn's worry away. I need to deal with this myself. But… something worries me.
Why would someone enter this place with such a kind of fate? Surely they could sense mine, even if indirectly.
Hmm…
Times like this made me wish I had more than just two Gamblers among my seven. Nodding to Autumn, I grab the necklace hanging from my neck and hold it as I say a small prayer to the Lord.
"Give me strength, milord. In your name, I retain the balance of life. And of death. Give me the strength to triumph over any foe, the speed to arrive at any adversity, and the wisdom to know how to fight. May my actions keep your court red and your balance even."
Autumn speaks up once more, her worry deepening. I can feel her concern, my Devil's Aura, capable of reading her emotions. I rarely pray, only in times of turmoil, but with every step of this person, no this creature, I can feel the disruption build.
"Sir? What's the matter? Is Olivia here?"
I shake my head and give her a smallish reply as I grab my coat off the hook on the wall. Then, I reach over and pick up my Colt, Granuled.
"No. I'll deal with it. Keep working on revenue. Our small haven will grow into a respite for all the world. But for now, I will keep the peace, and you make that happen, okay?"
Autumn looks up and smiles at me, her cheery cheeks slightly rosy. I smile back and ruffle her hair as I walk out of the room and head toward the door.
"Good luck, sir!"
I nod goodbye, stepping out the door and onto the streets of Raystown, my town.
"As always, dear."
My boots push me through the uneven but growing streets as I move toward the entrance, a wooden gate with spikes of oak surrounding my haven. As I do so, I get hellos and greeting from many people, mostly Outlaws, as that's the majority of those this far out into the frontier. Still, a few never walked that life and are refugees from Tornridge. Mrs. Adams is one. Yet it doesn't matter where they come from; here, all are equal and treat each other equally. If not, I intervene.
"Good morning, Mr. Olive. Beautiful weather today, huh?"
I bob to the woman whose family I saved with this town of mine.
"It is indeed. Tell Joseph to make me a pie for this weekend. I love that man's cooking."
She enthusiastically nods as I step past, her brittle fire just barely enough to be noticed. It's small fates like these we protect, Lord. She goes to spark a conversation, but that darkness grows abruptly, the single orb of night turning into two, albeit the second weaker than the first.
How?! This fast? What the hell is going on? My feet accelerate as my pace quickens.
"I heard that Audrey was getting hassled by one of the newer Outlaws. I think his name was Porter. Do you think you could check on her for me, Sir? I'll have Joey make you two pies if you do!"
I quickly wave Mrs. Adams off as I shut down the conversation, barely listening to her. Instead, I pinpoint this creature with my mind and begin my Ether throughout my body. Dynamism flows to life, filling my body with close to an hour of increased strength without any side effects as two other skills join its rhythm. Grasp and Twist. My left hand is filled with the Ether capable of grabbing onto fate, and the right with the Ether capable of twisting it.
"I will, Mrs. Adams. I need to go now, though."
Saying a quick goodbye to Mrs. Adams, I grab onto my own fate with my left hand and twist it with my right. The raging fire that exists as I am flung forward at incredible speeds as I keep myself moving, staying above the wooden buildings of Raystown.
As I move forward, even as my pace gets me to the entrance within just a few seconds, I feel that duo of shades grow into a trio. Fuck. Somethings bad. Really bad. I should've been faster. I knew it was terrible, but not this dire.
Just in case this creature is what I think it is, I rotate the Ether for my Power, for this threat could be existential. Devil's Luck covers me in an invisible sheen of fate, the Power coming almost certainly from my devotion to my Lord throughout my life.
But as I hit the ground and take in the entrance of Raytown, Devil's Luck screams of danger. Of danger so innately ground, I take a shambling step backward. Before my eyes is a Bado, one glistening with Darklight, the silvery light twisting the being into a false deity as it drops a human dipped in the same terrible substance. I go to raise my gun, but a man appears beside me out of an illusion so deep even I couldn't see through it, a legendary Colt in his hand with the barrel to my temple.
My eyes widen as he speaks, and I take in the flowing lilies on the black metal of the Colt.
"Tsk tsk tsk. I thought you'd be harder to get, Ray. For an Outlaw with your name, you really have bad luck. Now be a good boy and fall, Angel. Let the Darklight spread."
I twist my eyes, careful not to actually move, as I ask the Phantom Pain what the fuck he's doing helping a Motherbound.
"What are you doing, Alexos!? Are you taken!?"
Alexos chuckles as he shows his face to me, bereft of any tainted light. And as I yell at him again to lower his gun, the Motherbound takes steps toward me, the creature cutting me off with a surprising use of words.
"Lower–"
"Thank you, Phantom. At this rate, your family will be brought back within the year."
With shaky eyes and trembling muscles, I stare forward, the endless darkness walking toward me as I realize what I'm looking at. A Manipulator. The most dangerous kind of Motherbound. Fallen might be more powerful, but only the Manipulators can convene with the endless sea of minds that the Mother Below owns. Intelligent yet shattered of sanity, a genius built only to spread the tainted light. Of course, only a Manipulator would have such a gripping fate.
Inconspicuously, I try to move my hands by my hips to affect Alexos, but the man catches me almost instantly.
"Ah ah ah. No moving, Ray, unless you want to die, of course. You know this Colt, I'm sure. Nothing will be left if I pull the trigger."
I glare at the man through the corner of my eye as I retort.
"And are you willing to pay the price of devouring an Angel? The Lily takes its toll, Alexos. It always does, even to Killian."
He smiles right back at me, madness swimming in his eyes. Something I first saw when we met for the first time years ago, but this time it's a thousand times worse. What made him go this crazed?
"Any price is worth paying, Ray. Doesn't your Lord have a saying? 'If someone is unwilling to buy, the item isn't worth enough.' And oh boy, is the reward for helping worth it, Ray. So, I'm sorry, but it's not personal, buddy."
Cursing inwardly, I say a small prayer to the Red Judge as I twirl the Ether in my body. Devil's Luck didn't save me, but I know why. The Manipulator, or more specifically, the Darklight within it, devours luck and fate. It rips away the potential of those small candles that have not yet plumed into an uproar. Before its grasp, the only thing that matters is raw power, something I sorely lack despite being an Angel.
I know I'm strong. Much more powerful than any mortal, but among Angels, I'm bottom of the barrel. I've been using Devil's Luck to set up favorable conditions and bring influential people to me like Alexos, but it seems I've bitten off more than I can chew.
But I won't back down; I grit my teeth as I bring my body to its limits, Ether cycling with fury. But as I do, an offer reaches me from the Manipulator. One that slows down my growing rage.
"If you give yourself willingly, I will ensure you stay to protect your town. This place will be, as you want, a haven for safety, both for the good and bad of the world."
The enraptured Bado raises his claw, offering it up to me.
"I swear to Mother, I will uphold your values. You must only offer yourself to a new God far more benevolent, beautiful, and bountiful than your last. She will give you power beyond your wildest dreams and allow you to attain any goal. She will make you a true Fortuned Son, not some knockoff."
I hesitate, only because of the barrel to my brain and the claw right in front of me. But, if I refuse, I will die. I can sense that. They came here because they must have known my weakness. I can't perceive danger or manipulate luck if it's being dampened by a Motherbound. Had I been able to sense what was indeed here, I what have taken who I could and ran for the hills.
My mind flashes to Mrs. Adams. It flickers to the hundreds within my small town. I imagine Autumn's smiling face. Then, I foresee what will happen if I refuse; the entirety of Raystown will fall, my life's work crumbling. Everyone inside will die in the most gruesome ways, and I can do nothing to stop it.
So, I sigh, reach out slowly, and take the Old One's offer. Maybe, she will be merciful.
I am sorry, Lord. She just counters me too harshly. I could have done nothing but run when I first sensed something off. And I'm not a coward. I hope you can forgive me and one day pull me from this being's clutches.
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Wyatt Graves
Sparks of pain run down my leg as I step along the messy dirt road next to Abraham. Damn saturation. At least it's getting a bit better. I've tried sparking up conversation lately, but Abraham is pretty unresponsive. The half-Nahullo is more quiet than usual, and that's saying something because he rarely talks in the first place. So I try once more, this time focusing on his rival, Bonfire.
"So… you and Bonfire? When did this rivalry between you two start?"
The alabaster-haired man glances at me, his dark blue fetters noiselessly clinking only to me before my sight of chains. Then, finally, he lets out a small laugh, barely audible, as we step in front of the wagon behind us with the man I'm talking about inside.
"The 'rivalry' is just something he came up with alone. It's entirely one-sided. Bonfire wants someone to push him further, and I don't want anything to do with it. But he's nothing if persistent."
I take another step, my ankle twisting a bit from weakness as I try to ignore it and talk to him a bit more now that he's opening up. That one response is more than he's said in the past week.
"Then why do you play into it? I've seen you yell back at him."
Abraham sighs as he puts out an arm to help me walk, and I take it. The Ether saturation is still kicking my ass, but I'm trying to walk it off, sometimes literally.
"Because… it's fun? I don't know. Never really had anyone to have a friendly feud with. Back in the North, when I was little, it was always serious. And as the son of a Councilman, a half-breed no less, I was beset by many with vendettas for no reason."
The man, only a few years older than me, pauses momentarily as his eyes flicker to me.
"I suppose… Bonfire's frank and simultaneous joking attitude made me enjoy a fight for the first time. It was always life or death, pure seriousness filled with scheming back with my father. Until Bonfire first challenged me at a bar, the two of us met on a job long before finding Johnny, I could never face the nightmares left in my mind. He, unconsciously, gave me something to fight against with actual purpose, even if only for a bit of banter. I… I'm happy he's alive."
I nod to him as we keep walking, and seeing that he's finally talking, I try to ask him about his Sigil, or more specifically, his Power.
"So… what about your Power? And your Nightmares? How did you survive all those years before if you could never use the latter?"
Abraham clenches a fist before talking, the strain evident in his tightened jaw.
"I–I fought without the main component of the Sigil father built for me. For a long time, it was only the skill I could manage to learn on my own; those hallucinations I can make are entirely separate from my Sigil skills. In fact, I was sent here, to the human lands, to overcome my trauma and because my father didn't want to see a coward with his blood anymore."
Impressed, I whistle at his skill with Ether.
"Damn, that's amazing. Skills like that are tough to make, aren't they? And you didn't mention your Power, so what's up with that?"
The man, tormented by endless nightmares, eyes me warily.
"Really hounding me for answers, huh?"
I try to put an arm up and defend myself, as that's not my purpose, but he continues before I speak.
"I'm just messing with you, Wyatt. We're friends, right? My Power, and you know it's not an actual Power yet as I'm not an Angel, but my Absolution skill allows me to summon a being from my nightmares, the depths of my mind. It brings the person or thing to wherever I am at."
My eyes go wide. I heard something similar from Virgil when he spoke about what happened to him and Abraham in Starkbluffs, but I figured it was something special about the Stalwart Spine, not Abraham.
"Wow! Really!? Does that mean you can summon anyone to you regardless of where they are?!"
Abraham raises a hand to calm me down, his pale hair matching his pastel skin.
"Cool it down a bit, Wyatt. I think I can pull them from wherever, but I'm pretty sure they have to be alive as I focus on their body and presence. But there is quite a restriction. They have to be a part of my nightmares. So, the ability is useless as the only ones who own a spot within that dark recess of my mind are the Councilmen of the High Table."
I look away, disappointed by the revelation, but maybe that isn't the limit of his skill. Something always lies under, right? But as I look away, I spot a familiar tree, one with bites into it, seemingly by a human.
My mind flashes to that hallucinogenic haze I was in after Alexos left me to die. I bit a tree, didn't I? Am I near Edmund's grave?
"Hey, I think we're close to Edmund's grave because that tree is familiar. So it should be in that direction. You want to come with?"
I offer to Abraham to come with me, and he quickly nods.
"Of course, I have to follow you, remember?"
Laughing, I nod as I pull him in the right direction. It shouldn't be too far, at most an hour or so, and Abraham should be able to find our way back easily. Mentalists have good memories, right? I dunno. I believe they are supposed to.
As we walk, I return to that conversation from earlier, mentioning Abraham's newest skill.
"You know, that thing about your Absolution doesn't have to be the end all. I found ways to use mine differently, and so did Johnny. You just have to practice with it."
He nods but retorts to me quickly.
"Yeah, I would practice if it didn't mean summoning a fucking Angel. But I see what you mean. So I'll have to find a way to skew what I can conjure with it."
I frown at first, but that expression quickly turns to a smile as Abraham admits the chance for growth. The conversation sputters out soon, and we resort to walking for a while. Trees pass by us casually until I start to see very familiar things. First, trees with apparent damage, and after a time, I stumble upon the stump that I was almost executed on by that man with a large sword.
We're close. So close.
I find it when I take more steps in the right direction, pushing past Abraham's help. The lonely and upturned grave, courtesy of Hura's underlings. I kneel down to the ramshackle headstone made for him and reread it.
"Here lies Edmund Dudley, The Bloodhound. Father of the Bloodbeast. Teacher of greats. Slayer of the Nocturne Tribe."
"May the Devil weigh in your favor."
Again, I thank him, but I know it will never be enough deep down.
"Thank you."
Abraham settles nearby to just watch me. I give him a curt nod as I move toward the partially compact dirt. Gritting my teeth, I push a smidgeon of Ether into my hand, but even that is almost enough for me to blackout. But I force through with pure will, using that Ether to strengthen my hand as I claw at the dirt, slowly reaching Edmund's body.
Pounds of dirt disappear in moments as I propel my weary body forward, unearthing my teacher. The only man I'd ever be willing to call a father despite our short time together. And eventually, after almost an hour of digging, I reach his whole form, decomposed and rotting.
I plug my nose and send him a quiet "Sorry" in my mind. Then, while searching his pockets, I find what I've wanted to see in his shirt pocket for months now.
Crawling backward from the dirty hole, I hold the bullet to the setting sun. An ornate thing of brass and silver with spiraling flowers all over the casing. This bullet can kill an Angel without any repercussions for the shooter if it lands.
The Lily's last bullet.
And I know just who is going to receive it.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone