Shadow Slave

Far away, in the dungeons beneath Bastion, Effie had torn apart her cage and walked out of it with unsteady steps.

One of her hands was missing, replaced by a bloody stump. She had wrapped it in a piece of cloth, and the bleeding was already stopping — Saints healed fast, after all, and her vitality was especially boundless.

Well, at least it had been. Starvation had exhausted most of what Effie was known for.

Now that she was out of the enchanted cell, her essence was slowly returning — the more of it poured into her desolate soul, the more it felt like her body was coming back to life.

And as it did, the hunger returned with a vengeance, driving Effie to madness.

At that moment, she was glad that hers had been a solitary cell. Otherwise, she might have done something terrible in the throes of frenzied hunger.

‘Surely, not…’

Effie wanted to believe in herself, but hunger… hunger made beasts out of people. Especially an unnatural hunger like hers. Luckily, the food her husband had left in front of the cell to torture her was still there — somewhat spoiled, but still edible. Falling to her knees near the tray, Effie devoured everything that was on it.

In fact, in her maddened hunger, she devoured pieces of the wooden tray as well.

‘Not enough… not, not… enough…’

The meal had been lavishly generous and scrumptious — so as to torment her better — but it was like a drop in the boundless ocean of her hunger. The water and wine, too, seemed to mock her harrowing thirst. Even after swallowing every last bit, Effie still felt like she could devour a Titan.

The hunger and thirst were still torturous… but at least she could think now.

Effie remained on the floor, breathing heavily, then groaned and rose to her feet. Her wound wasn’t being healed by the miraculous white flames, which meant that Nephis was… indisposed.

Nephis was not going to descend from the sky to save the day, like she usually did, which meant that Effie could only rely on herself.

The question was… what was she supposed to do?

Effie looked around. The broken cage was behind her, its floor smeared with blood, broken chains, and stone debris. In front of her was a heavy wooden door that led outside.

The door shattered from her kick, and Effie walked into a dimly lit stone corridor that extended in both directions to he right and to her left, with similar doors and metal grates leading to other cells.

The stairwell to the surface was somewhere to her left…

The storeroom with rations for the potential prisoners was somewhere to her right. After hesitating for a few moments, Effie leaned on the wall and pushed her gaunt body in the direction where the storeroom was supposed to be. Whatever lay ahead, she would need at least some strength to face it. So, satiating her Flaw came first. She slowly made her way deeper into the corridor, surrounded by silence. The dungeon felt strangely empty, as if everyone had gone somewhere far away…

Then, the silence was broken by the rattling of chains, and a dirty face revealed itself from the darkness behind one of the doors. Pale fingers wrapped around the bars of its window, and a hoarse whisper reached her ears:

“Lady Athena? You… are a sight for sore eyes, as always…”

She stopped and looked at the androgynous man locked behind the metal bars. He looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place him.

After a few moments of silence, Effie asked in an uncertain tone:

“Saint Thane?”

Thane, the Dream Merchant, had been one of the original government Saints — so, she knew him well. However, he was also a bizarre and eccentric person, so she only managed to recognize him after mentally adding extravagant clothes, an excessive amount of jewelry, and a thick layer of makeup to his unkempt image.

It seemed that the man became inoculated against Asterion’s plague due to the horrible treatment Nephis had shown him, and ended up in the same position as Effie, thanks to that.

She studied him for a moment, and then asked:

“Was it you who sent me those dreams? The dreams about the war?”

He nodded, prompting her to smile darkly.

“Mordret and the Dreamspawn are really fighting the decisive battle right now, then. So… who’s winning?”

Thane stared at her for a moment, then blinked a couple of times.

“I don’t know. I am awake.”

She chuckled joylessly.

“Kind of feels like a nightmare though, doesn’t it?”

Effie remained silent for a few moments, leaning on the wall. The piece of cloth she had used to wrap her stump was soaked with blood, a few drops falling on the stone floor.

Eventually, she said:

“Thank you, though. For saying that I am a sight for sore eyes. I know that I am less than presentable at the moment, so it’s a miracle that you recognized me, actually. Hah, they should call you the Miracle Merchant, instead…”

Thane smiled weakly.

“No, no. You are as lovely as always, Saint Athena. A bit of consumptive chic, that’s all! An unexpected look for you, but it suits you well.”

Effie gave him a long look, then asked:

“I guess you want me to break you out, as well. Then what?”

The disheveled Saint hesitated for a moment.

“Then… subdue our captors and retake Bastion? Live happily ever after?”

Effie pressed her feverish forehead against the cold stones and let out a hollow laugh.

“Conquer Bastion? How many times do I have to conquer this damn… ah, never mind. What’s the point? Even if we retake Bastion, the people will still be enthralled by the Dreamspawn. Sure, losing a Great Citadel will diminish his power, somewhat — but do we even want Mordret to win? I don’t know.”

She remained silent for a moment, and then sighed.

“We might just as well escape to the waking world. The Dreamspawn will have a harder time finding us there, at least.”

Escape to Earth, find a way back to the Dream Realm, and make it to the Forgotten Shore somehow. Little Ling was somewhere, out there, safe and sound… she hoped he was, at least.

Thane shook his head.

“We can’t, Saint Athena. We can’t just escape.”

She glared at him from above.

“Why not?”

He pointed to the corridor.

“Because this dungeon is full of people like us. Those who have proven immune to the plague. We can’t leave them here, can we? Especially because we both know the kind of suffering they will have to endure while the servants of that abominable Supreme try to get them to submit.”

Effie sighed and closed her eyes.

She felt weak. She felt exhausted. She was in pain… both physical and mental. She was even missing a hand, having crushed the bones and torn the flesh with her own teeth.

She was being devoured from within by a terrible hunger.

Effie groaned.

‘Damnation.’

“Fine. Let’s free these people and conquer Bastion, Saint Thane.”