Shadow Slave

The memory ended, leaving Cassie alarmed and disturbed.

‘It... can’t be.’

She had glimpsed too much in Torment’s tainted mind.

She had glimpsed things that she should have never seen.

She had delved into the alien mind of her Defiled past self, and now...

Cassie felt something changing inside of her.

Something seemed to have died, and something seemed to have been born. Something seemed to have moved in her heart, and something seemed to stop in her soul.

Her very being was writhing in pain of a transformation as everything that comprised her, that was her, struggled against the vile rebirth. A force more terrifying than anything she could imagine was trying to change her, while a power she never knew she possessed was trying to preserve her.

She knew what was happening to her all too well.

It was Corruption.

‘No, no, no...’

Knowledge was the origin of all power. It was also the heaviest thing in the world. And, sometimes, it was the most dangerous thing in the world, too.

It was forbidden knowledge that had corrupted the First Seeker, after all. And once that knowledge spread, the Defilement was born.

By witnessing a memory of Torment, Cassie had exposed herself to Corruption. And now, her soul was at risk of becoming infected by the vile darkness.

‘Calm... down.’

She tried to compose herself, soothing her reeling mind with logic and reason. Corruption, in and of itself, was not that dangerous. No... actually, there was nothing more perilous than Corruption in the world. But it also took different shapes and shapes — people tended to think of it as a monolithic force, but it wasn’t.

There was an almost endless variety to Corruption. There had to be, considering that its source — the primordial Void — was ever-changing. It could have different origins and conjure different ends. The causes of Corruption differed in potency, as well.

Take the most modest form it took, for example — the Seeds of Nightmare that bloomed in the hearts of Aspirants. Merely forming a soul core was enough to destroy these seeds. Countless Sleepers had done it with the help of the Spell, while Rain did it all by herself, while Awakening naturally. More than that, there were hundreds of millions of people who carried the Seeds of Nightmares in their hearts, but never succumbed to Corruption simply because the power of the Domains they belonged to — the power of their Sovereigns — suppressed the Seeds, preventing them from blossoming.

The Path of Ascension was inherently opposed to Corruption. Therefore, the higher one climbed on it, the more resistant to Corruption they became.

So even if Cassie had been infected by Corruption because of Torment’s memory, it did not mean that she would succumb to it. She could resist it, as well.

In fact, she was ready to fight against it to her very last breath.

But to do that... she needed to know what was happening to her first.

She needed to finish piecing herself together and gain full control of her mind, her soul, and her Will.

‘I need to focus.’

Cassie composed herself — but then, another memory overwhelmed her.

The last memory her Will had failed to push away.

It belonged to the Lord of Shadows. Or rather, it was a truth that the Lord of Shadows had received as a prize in Ariel’s Game.

In that memory, much like in the last one, the world was on fire. Countless trees were burning, toppling with sorrowful groans. Ash obscured the sky, and unbearable heat melted the sanity of those who still fought in the boundless inferno.

A Sacred Beast lay butchered on the pyre of burning wood, and in front of it stood a woman in torn leather armor, her stunning face bloodied and covered in ash. Harrowing wounds littered her body, and there was a peculiar emptiness in her eyes.

The fire was consuming the world, and the battle continued to rage around her, but she seemed oblivious to the carnage. Swaying heavily, the woman took a step back and fell down.

As she stubbornly struggled to rise, her blood soaking the ash, the flames crawled closer and closer. Before they consumed her, however, someone appeared out of the groans of dying trees, looking down at her silently.

It was a tall figure wrapped in a nebulous mantle, wearing a fearsome mask of black polished wood. The mask snarled fiercely, but the gaze of the stranger was cold enough to douse the inferno that surrounded them.

A voice that sounded like a myriad of dying curses resounded from behind the mask, mocking the woman. Berating her for being too weak, too pathetic, and for having forgotten her own name.

It was the voice of Weaver.

”...You can forget everything else, everyone else — you can even forget your own name. But don’t you dare forget the name of Weaver, the Demon of Fate. We must see each other again, you and I. So... come find me in the Shadow Realm. Come and see if someone like you can really kill Weaver. Then, after you’ve learned the true meaning of despair... then, I’ll allow you to die, Orphne of the Nine.”

Hearing her own name, the woman seemed to regain some of her strength. Her eyes regained their focus, and she looked at the nebulous daemon with dark, grim killing intent.

Weaver laughed and rose, turning away from the bleeding huntress.

“That’s better!”

The Demon of Fate looked down, and then exhaled slowly.

Their shoulders seemed to fall, and the eerie voice resounded once again from behind the fearsome mask:

”...Are you there?”

Weaver straightened and looked up, as if seeing something no one else could see.

As if addressing someone whom no one else could hear.

Perhaps they were addressing the Lord of Shadows, who would see the vision of this truth in Ariel’s Game one day.

Or perhaps they were addressing Cassie, who would witness the memory of the Lord of Shadows seeing the vision one day.

“Are you watching?”

The Demon of Fate chuckled hoarsely.

“Watch well then, epigone. Let me show you how gods die...”

The burning world shattered.