IV
Chancellor Darmés’s Work Room at Listelein Castle in Orsted
The work room of Imperial Chancellor Darmés was, in accordance with his position, dizzyingly lavish. Its uncharacteristic size stood out, first and foremost; it could have accommodated a hundred visitors all at once. It had vast windows angled so that the room was filled with sunlight and framed by thick scarlet curtains embroidered with gold thread. Expensive vases and paintings decorated the space, and before a white wall sat a stately and elegant desk.
“That concludes my report, my lord,” said a woman dressed all in black.
“Very good. I must say, though, the Swarans must be even more spineless than I thought if they couldn’t even take this one fort.”
“It may not be their fault, my lord. They say this monster everyone’s been talking about came to the Sixth Legion’s aid,” the woman replied darkly. She was not a shimmer, but rather the leader of Darmés’s personal secret intelligence service—the Dawnlight Network. Her name was Mistress Flora Ray.
“The monster, you say...” murmured Darmés.
“My lord?”
“What? Oh, it’s nothing. You may go.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Oh, and make sure no one comes near my rooms.”
“Understood, my lord,” said Flora. Darmés watched her close the door behind her, then turned to the towering bookshelf on his right. Perhaps the most imposing object in the room, it gave off an almost religious aura.
Time for my report, then, he thought. He opened a drawer in his desk and took out a red book, then went over to the bookshelf. Right in the center, there was an unusual gap, just the right size for a single book. Darmés gazed for a moment at the book in his hand, then slotted it into the gap. There was a loud click as some mechanism slid into place; then, with a heavy creaking, the bookshelf began to slide to one side. It ground to a stop, revealing a staircase that led underground.
Darmés lit the lamp that hung at the entrance, using it to light his way as he set off down the spiral staircase. He still almost stumbled several times along the way, but eventually made it safely to the bottom, emerging into a round, stone-walled room. It was as empty as the void, in stark contrast to the luxury up above.
Darmés went around lighting the candles that lined the wall. As the room gradually grew brighter, Darmés’s shadow grew darker and more pronounced. When all the candles had been lit, he moved to the center of the room and prostrated himself, pressing his forehead against the floor. His shadow writhed, then stretched out before him, twisting like a living thing, growing and contracting, until it reformed into a humanoid figure.
Rise, Darmés. Looming over the bowed figure of the chancellor stood a shadow, shimmering like the air above a flame.
“Y-Y-Yes, Exalted One!” Darmés looked up, keeping his posture deferential. “I trust I find you well, great Xenia—”
Desist with the tiresome formalities and get to the point, said the shadow in a voice that seemed to bubble up from the pits of hell. I have no patience for human communication. I can barely understand your babbling as it is. Darmés shrank away from the shadow.
“F-Forgive me...” he stammered.
What are you here for? asked Xenia tonelessly. Darmés, whose talents lay in reading others’ emotions and turning them to his own advantage, was helpless against Xenia, who, being a shadow, naturally had no expressions to read. Even if it did, Darmés could do nothing against this inhuman opponent who could crush him with a single glance. He swallowed to try and wet his bone-dry throat before continuing.
“I have received a report concerning that ebony blade you were so interested in.”
I see, said Xenia. You may continue.
“A number of witnesses stated that the sword in question emits a kind of black mist. The mage’s analysis suggested that the blade has some kind of enchantment on it,” Darmés said. Xenia’s form shivered slightly, but otherwise it did not react. Darmés mopped the sweat from his brow. “Great Xenia?” he asked.
Let me correct you on one point, it hissed. That black mist is no cheap trick like your “magic.” For a moment, Darmés was unable to speak. While he didn’t blindly accept everything written in the Holy Illuminatus Church’s White Book, he knew that mages truly existed and that their magic could achieve superhuman feats. He couldn’t fathom how Xenia could brush those arts aside as mere “cheap tricks.”
After a long pause, he found his tongue again. “May...May I ask what you mean?”
I mean what I say, said Xenia, leaving Darmés more at a loss than ever.
“I beg your pardon, Exalted One, but I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
Is it necessary that I explain myself to you further? If it would somehow benefit me, I have no objection to doing so, of course...
“Of course not, Exalted One!” Darmés cried. “I was a fool to suggest it. Forgive my speaking out of turn.” He pressed himself back to the floor as though to kiss the ground where Xenia stood. The silence stretched on until at last Xenia ordered him to rise.
That being said, I am sure you are curious. I shall share some of my knowledge with you.
“Knowledge of the Abyss!” Darmés exclaimed breathlessly. “O Exalted One, I would be grateful for any scrap you might impart to one so unworthy.” The knowledge Xenia possessed was so valuable it couldn’t be measured in gold. Darmés strained his ears to be sure not to miss a single word.
That ebony blade was, I believe, crafted by one of my kin. That is why it emits that black mist.
“You mean to say that the black mist is not a magical phenomenon, but rather the product of the arts of your most exalted kinsfolk?” asked Darmés, choosing his words with care. He had once seen Xenia snap its fingers and cause a whole mountain to vanish before his eyes. A human speaking out of turn wouldn’t last an instant.
That is correct, confirmed Xenia. The human who wields that sword is its plaything.
“P...Plaything?”
It is...eccentric. It takes in humans to entertain itself, claiming to “observe” them.
“‘Observe,’ you say...” Darmés, realizing the impending danger, continued. “In that case, I must send out an order for our forces to stand down at once.” He didn’t want a poorly thought-out move putting him on the wrong side of one of Xenia’s kind. He could only assume they all possessed similar abilities.
Don’t bother. You may leave the plaything be.
“But why?” pressed Darmés. “For all that this plaything is human, are they not one of your allies?” As a god of death, Xenia might well go around talking about humans as playthings, but one of Xenia’s kin had entrusted its sword to this human. As this thought passed through Darmés’s mind, Xenia’s body roiled like a violent wave. The flames of the candles blazed as though to echo this motion.
“G-Great Xenia?!”
Have you listened to a word I said? I spoke not of my kin, but of its plaything. Or have humans taken to insulting my kin while my attention wandered?
“F-Forgive me!” wailed Darmés, attempting to prostrate himself again, but his body wouldn’t obey him. He couldn’t move even a single finger. Cold sweat poured from every pore on his body.
Stop doing that. Just watching you makes me irritable, said Xenia, holding a shimmering hand out towards Darmés.
“For...give m-me... I won’t...disap...point you...again...” croaked Darmés, straining to pronounce every syllable. Xenia lowered its hand, and Darmés felt his control over his limbs return. Gasping for breath, he pressed his arms into the ground to prevent himself from toppling over.
See that you do not, said Xenia. Now, keep up your work in drawing out this war. That is what I gave you power for. Deliver more humans unto death.
“Of course, Exalted One! With my every waking moment, I strive to serve you!” cried Darmés. “My powers have rendered the emperor no better than a puppet. The tides of the war are mine to turn as I choose.”
This pleases me. What of the Chalice of Darkness?
“It proceeds well. The Chalice is already a third full,” replied Darmés. The ebony chalice he kept in his room already contained a multitude of souls. To the naked eye, it looked like any other goblet, so he left it on display with the other ornaments.
Very good, said Xenia, with a nod that suggested satisfaction.
“Great Xenia, I... Might I...” Darmés stammered, half rising. Xenia reached a languid hand into an unseen pocket and drew forth a clear vial full of a rainbow-colored liquid. It shone with dazzling intensity, plainly not of the natural world.
Do not fear. When the Chalice of Darkness brims with souls, you shall have your Elixir of Cursed Souls, just as I promised, said Xenia. Though you must be half out of your mind yourself, to desire such a substance.
“Thank you, Exalted One! I will see to it that the chalice grows still fuller!”
See that it is so, said Xenia shortly, before fading into nothing. Darmés stood up and brushed the creases from his robe.
Out of my mind? he thought. Well, the great Xenia can’t be expected to understand what this means when your life span is as short as a human’s. Darmés, of course, aspired to conquer all of Duvedirica. But like every living thing, human or otherwise, he was shackled by the certainty of death. Even if he brought every domain on the continent under his rule, the longest he could hope to hold onto power was a few scant decades. What Darmés wanted was to rule Duvedirica for all eternity. The only thing that could grant him his mad ambition was this self-titled “god of death”—a being beyond human understanding—and the rainbow elixir it claimed could make him immortal.
Death god, demon—it made no difference to Darmés. He would have served anyone to get his hands on the substance. And if sacrifices were required, he’d happily offer up a hundred thousand souls or more. He had no idea what purpose the human souls he gathered would be used for, but he had decided such knowledge was beyond the reach of mortals. Besides, humans were born in such numbers that the world was lousy with them anyway. When he was alone, Darmés liked to entertain himself by imagining his new empire built upon a mountain of corpses.
The war looked like it might be drawing to a close, but thanks to this girl they all call monster, it will keep going a long time yet. Keep swinging that ebony blade, my dear. It only brings the day that I dominate Duvedirica closer. Darmés lingered in that room for a long time after Xenia vanished, a thin smile on his face.
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