Advent of Eternity - Chapter 36 (Patreon)

There was only a single exit in the chamber, so the three of them approached it. The door was fastened shut, but Stix snapped the handle with a sharp strike and it swung open with a creak. They headed deeper into the dungeon, Knell’s staff tapping against the stone with every step.

As they turned a corner, Cyll froze. The tunnel ended right in front of a stone door, just inches from his face. Stix nearly ran straight into him before she managed to catch herself.

“What are you doing?” she hissed.

Cyll pointed down at the floor. It was difficult to see in the dim lighting, but a brownish red pool of liquid stained the floor. The blood ran into the hall from beyond the door. Stix’s eyes widened and she knelt beside it.

“Not old,” she whispered, running a finger through the blood. “A day at most. This is recent.”

A faint chime rang out from the other side of the door. It sounded distant, as if from a hundred miles away, but the noise still echoed through Knell’s head with an intensity that would not be refuted.

“What was that?” Stix asked, shuddering. “It felt… wrong.”

Cyll lowered into his best imitation of Stix’s fighting stance. “We got company, Cap. Path user. What are your orders?”

“Nothing to go off yet,” Knell said, drawing the blade from his staff. “Just be careful. No barging in this time. Someone that can use a Path is not as easily defeated as a goblin, and we need all the strength we can get.”

Cyll nodded once. Stix and Knell pressed themselves to the sides of the hall and Cyll swung the door open with a heave, stepping inside with his arms raised.

A lone man clad in flowing black robes sat at the far end of the chamber, beside a curved staff bearing a bell at its top. His eyes were blocked from view by a matching square-brimmed hat perched atop his head. The only feature that Knell could make out was a disturbingly wide mouth that stretched across the man’s face, going from one end to the other.

At the man’s feet, a young boy laid in a pool of his own blood. The jagged hole in his chest was a clear fatal wound, but it still rose and fell with every breath. To Knell’s surprise, the boy’s features were at peace.

“You’re one ugly bastard,” Cyll said.

The man raised a finger to his lips and spoke in little more than a whisper. “Hush. It is his time.”

Cyll glanced at Knell, who shook his head slightly. The man’s smile widened, revealing black gums as the bell rang once more. A faint whimper left the boy’s mouth and his chest fell still.

“He has gone,” the man breathed. “But, what fate brings you to me, I wonder?”

He rose, grasping the top of his staff. Now that he was standing at full height, the man was nearly as tall as Cyll, but somehow considerably thinner.

“Cap? I want to punch him,” Cyll said. “He’s creepy.”

“Look who’s talking,” Stix muttered, but she didn’t take her eyes off the tall man.

“Hold on,” Knell said. “He hasn’t attacked.”

“He just killed that kid. Generally, people that kill children are not high on my potential friend list,” Cyll replied.

“He did not,” Knell said. “The child was wounded by a sword, and this man doesn’t have one.”

“How insightful. Perhaps you will notice that I wear black next,” the man said with an airy laugh. The sound of his voice sent chills along Knell’s skin, but he didn’t let it show on his face.

“Who are you?” Stix asked, pointing a dagger at him. “Are you with the bandits that attacked this town?”

He laughed again. “With? No. I simply follow them. They leave death in their wake.”

“You follow Mordrigal?” Cyll asked.

“Mordrigal is not the only god of death,” the man replied, his smile fading slightly. “All things, even the gods, eventually pass.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Knell said. “But I do have to ask why you’re sitting with a child’s corpse. I find the murder of innocents distasteful.”

“Because it was his time to pass. I was simply ensuring he would not face an afterlife before Madrigal. Do you take issue with this, Scion?”

“Less than you could ever imagine,” Knell said. “If you have been following these men, do you know what is going on here?”

“Men are killing each other,” the black-clad figure replied with a shrug. “Nothing is new. I seek scenes where I may rescue the most people from Madrigal’s grip.”

“So… places where people die?” Stix asked.

The grin grew wider. “Exactly.”

“Well, we’ll just be on our way then,” Stix said, clearing her throat and lowering her voice. “No need to interact with the creepy guy any more. He doesn’t seem to want to fight us.”

“Pause,” the man said. He strode up to them, the bell on his staff swinging. However, it made no noise, even when Knell saw the clapper strike the lip. Cyll moved to stand in front of Knell, but the man stopped before growing too close. “Your time is wrong.”

“How so?” Knell asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You do not have a time. All men have a time.”

“I am not all men.”

“No,” the man said. “You do not appear to be. Who are you?”

“Hold it right there,” Stix said. “We’re not telling you anything else. How do we know you aren’t working for our enemies?”

“What an interesting group,” the man said, studying them from beneath his hat. “A man who will not die, one who cannot die, and a woman who is drenched so thoroughly in death that I had thought it was coming from the Scion of Mordrigal rather than she.”

“What in the Sixteen Seas are you talking about?” Stix asked. “Stop talking in riddles. Knell, shouldn’t we get moving? You said haste was important.”

“Do you stand in our way?” Knell asked.

“In your way? No. Continue. I will do nothing to stop you.”