Coralie

Winter 2485.
January.
Tystead.

Within two days, Coralie knew she was losing it.

The latest lives she had taken were proving difficult to assimilate, far more difficult than any assimilation ever before. Why? Why were they so difficult?

You need to rest. Sal warned her.

Memories from the dead Wardens swirled in her mind, interfering with her perception of reality.

"Dan isn't here." she hissed through her teeth. The Warden she had straddled, the captain, she had met him before, in Kutanda. His name had been Elger.

One of the moments from Elger's life came back to her, reminding her that Danton Redwind was long gone.



"They've taken Dan back to the Sanctum."

He is out of reach there. You know it. They might even kill him themselves.

"He's mine to kill. I'll assemble them, my sworn soldiers, Bokuba, Kirin and Koragan... the five."

Bokuba was just south, in Arkheath. But Kirin...

Kirin is weeks away by horse... even by sea... Sal reminded her. Get a hold of yourself, woman.

She was on a roof, beneath the stars. How had she gotten here?

"Sal." she muttered, her breath coming out as mist in the cold night air.

Then she fell, her head hitting stone.

-

Nightmares.

So many nightmares.

How many had she killed? How many hundreds of lives were scrambled in the back of her head, oozing into her subconscious, bubbling up into her waking thoughts, scratching at her in her dreams, turning her rest into agony.

Eventually she came back.

When she did, she saw the stars again, like the slow-moving march of a thousand white torches.

I was preparing to discard you, and find a new master. Sal's voice rang in her mind. Sal's voice - not a dead man's voice, not the voice of somebody she had killed. Her mind was clear, her own again.

"Sal?"

Coralie rose. She was not at the spot she had fallen. She was not in Tystead. The buildings had disappeared, and had been replaced by trees. Somewhere far away, but still close, a wolf howled mournfully.

You don't know where we are, do you?

Koragan was looking at her, his malformed wooden arm hanging by his side. He was not alone. There was Kirin with him, and Bokuba also. How had they come here so fast? Kirin was weeks away... unless...

"Matchstick." she said aloud. "How long was I lost for?"

"Three months, Coralie." Sal's serpentine voice responded aloud, so that her Godslayer lieutenants could hear her.

"Where are we?" she asked, rising to her feet, a headache beginning to set in.

"Near the town of Jano's Pass, in the mountains between Tystead and the Free City." Kirin replied. "Koragan assembled us while you were lost in darkness. We have made camp here, waiting for you to either win or lose your internal battle."

Coralie flexed her limbs. She felt weak. For three months, she had not stretched, or walked, or run.
"I won." she said, finally.

"Yes." Koragan's wooden arm left a trench in the ground as he walked towards her. "Mistress, we have news from the other Godslayers."

The other Godslayers, she wondered? Of course - out there, her brethren continued the fight against the Dominion. These soldiers before her had belonged to Dynkar once.
"What news, Koragan?"

"The weapon you stole from Kutanda. They plan to use it soon. And they have a new task for you. You are to travel to the Holy City. Svasek is waiting for you there, in Butcher's Row."

"No choice, this time?"

"We will follow you." Koragan said. "Wherever you decide to go, mistress. Always and forever."

April 2485.
Spring.
Vuolit, Havsgard.

From Jano's Pass, Coralie had ridden down the mountains into the lands of Havsgard. Kirin and Sal went with her, both saying little as they journeyed. Sal would often probe into Coralie's mind, curious, trying to disentangle the information she had gained upon the Arbiter's death. Coralie had caught a glimpse of the Arbiter's mind, though nothing more. Still, it was enough to make her see things in a light she had never before been allowed. The voices in her head were still, possibly for the first time ever. They tried to come back sometimes, yes, but never for long.

Yet as time passed Coralie began to grow suspicious - of Sal. Sal had always relished in the killing, in destruction. Coralie's desire to do some good in the world upset him. He did not challenge her, though. Maybe he was too smart for that. But it got Coralie thinking.

Will Sal betray me? Will he try to corrupt me again? How much of my madness is his fault? Who is Sal really?

Still, they journeyed on, to Lake Stilglas, and then by boat through the rivers of Havsgard. To get to the Holy City, the quickest way would be to take a boat all the way through Lake Vuosaari, and into Kutanda. Then the last stretch of land they could cover on horseback. As they travelled, Coralie witnessed the spread of the news that the Arbiter was dead. Some people were totally unaware, but slowly, more and more people that Coralie encountered were aware of it.

They passed bonfires, where men and women wept and prayed for the Arbiter's resurrection. There were parades of believers shouting at the skies in outrage, cursing and blaming the Traitor for the Arbiter's death. Passing the city of Stilgard, Coralie could smell the fear and madness in the air.

Eventually their boat came close to Lake Vuosaari, and the city of Vuolit built beside it. Vuolit had two sides to it - one half of the city was built on giant rafts, or suspended above the water on platforms and stilts. The other half of the city was a slum built on dry land beside the river and lake.

"I have been here before, milady." Kirin professed. "The Vuosaar are a rough folk. They will be even more upset about the Arbiter's death than the people we passed on our way here, I am sure."

If they get in our way, we kill them. Sal spoke through their bond.

No, Sal. You know I want to, but you also know that the Arbiter held the Dominion together for a reason. Because law and balance keep the world together. Without it, there's only the voices... and madness.

If the Arbiter could make the voices go away, then Coralie would stay true to his ideals.

Kirin was the first to step out of the boat as they beached it outside the city of Vuolit. They would need to eat and sleep, like lesser folk. It was getting late, and sleeping in a boat was not to Coralie's liking. Surely enough, Vuolit was solemn and gloomy, people pacing through the streets avoiding eye-contact. The Vuosaar and Ulvar were loud and proud, but not these past weeks. Not since the Arbiter's death.

As Coralie, Sal and Kirin walked through the dirty streets of Vuolit looking for a place to stay for the night, they heard a commotion from the city square, and shouting. Coralie followed the noise, and found a giant crowd assembled in the plaza. A wooden platform in the middle was the centre of attention. Several men stood on it, with some bodies at their feet. They were shouting to the crowds.
"Your lack of respect for tradition has led to this doom! The Arbiter's death is your fault! Your collective fault!"

The crowd wailed and booed as the men denounced them from the platform.

"I don't like this." Kirin put a hand on Coralie's shoulder. "We should go."

But Coralie stayed watching. The men on the platform were grinning like madmen.
"The Wardens are all dead. And it will be Lyhtrat, our beloved tree, which will burn next. We must protect Lyhtrat from the agents of the Traitor."

Coralie could predict where this was going. The men were going to start a riot, possibly for their own gain. The Dominion was slowly descending into chaos.

"There is silence in the library. And all the pages are ash."

How many faces had she worn? It was impossible to tell. How many lands had she crossed? The crowds of Vuolit had beheld her spectacle, and then she had vanished beneath the light of the setting sun beside Sal and Kirin. Did the power of the Arbiter and his death still call her towards the Sanctum? She was no longer so sure.

Some nights she was still in Dynkar's box.

Had she ever truly escaped?

Sometimes she would wake up in darkness, laughing, unsure if she was in the real world or inside that damned box.

Kirin would press a hand to her forehead then, and speak soothing words. In some ways, he would tell her, she was still only a child.

The days passed, and she watched as streams of people trickled into boats, and rowed or sailed towards their beloved tree, Lyhtrat, in the middle of Lake Vuosaar. It was said that the great tree Eitrat, host to the spirit of the Archon, the North Wind, had begun dropping new fruits in great quantities. A new order of Wardens were being raised in the north, to restore order to the Dominion. But they were mostly Ulvar, and the Vuosaar had turned to their own tree, Lyhtrat, for its fruits, so that they could form Wardens of their own.

And in the west, the Maiden's knights had begun to march south, towards the Holy City, to bring their own form of peace to it. in the east, Nalbin prepared to declare independence, it was said, and its cities were blockaded as a result.

The Dominion was descending into chaos, and the Godslayers were behind it. But Coralie had spurned them too. She had spurned them all. And still her faces changed, and the dreams came, and the voices laughed. And some nights, she dreamed she was in the box.