[Kliss Eliza Cessna]

I haven’t properly slept in days. I was losing it completely, losing myself to stress, losing hours and days as I stalked Skyisle like a red-caped shadow, following two bewildering aberrations one or perhaps both of which wielded bewildering, non-magical knowledge from another world.

I’ve learned much from Dante… or perhaps Slava, and yet there was still so much more that I did not understand. Slava taught and showed me things that I had considered impossible, opened my eyes to the dangerous possibility of everything that I knew being wrong.

He wasn’t an aberration that ate people’s souls, no… he was far more dangerous. Slava somehow dismantled me, piece by piece with his words and actions. He wasn’t afraid to talk to ghosts or Gods. His mission to hunt the divine seemed mad and yet he spoke of it with such fervor that even the Goddess of the Hunt listened and accepted his quest as the truth!

It took me far too long to grasp the truth, to realize it… but there was no justice, no Equality in this world. I had allowed the Overseer's Vow to rule me, to guide me as I closed my eyes instead of thinking or acting for myself.

The manifestation of the Overseer’s Vow loomed over me, holding the strings to my soul in his hands. The illusory legionnaire wanted me to kill the Alans, to come clean, to call the Inquisitor and to confess my sins. If I did, the Inquisitor would come sooner with a squadron of legionnaires. He would either immediately execute me for my failures or take me to Cessna for a Tribunal where my crimes would be judged. The Equality priests had ways of making sinners suffer a fate worse than death.

“I won’t let you lead me anymore,” I told the Overseer’s Vow. “I’m not afraid of you.”

The faceless legionnaire tilted his head to the right in misapprehension.

“Hold him,” I said to my other Vow.

The manifestation of the Vow of Friendship, shaped like Giovashi spun around the legionnaire like a cloud of brilliant, violet fire. It set the other Vow alight. My Angel screamed silently, fighting with the cloud-shaped Vow, dropping the strings that had once held me like a marionette.

I ignored the pain in my soul, wincing as the Soul-Song sang about falling numbers.

Step by step, I walked across the forest to house number 117 on Longwoods Road.

It was early morning and Slava was sleeping in his tent, but my skill told me that something… magical and very dangerous was following me. Perhaps it was even Slava himself or maybe Delta, watching over me as an Astral Phantom.

I wasn’t sure and it didn’t really matter.

My time was running out and I had to make amends, felt like I had to do something.

I sighed and looked at the woodworking workshop that stood atop the river. The tracker markers linked to my armacus told me that Georgi was there. I walked across the little wooden bridge that connected the workshop to the path and knocked on the door.

“Yes?” The sawdust covered face of Georgi Alan Agamemnon emerged from within. He saw me and froze.

“Overseer?” His eyes became two thin slits. His muscles tensed up. There was a wood-carving steel blade in his hands. He was strong and agile. I knew that with a single swing he could cut my neck open.

The Overseer’s Vow demanded I aim the armacus at him, to shoot him before he attacks me. My hands twitched, but did not move. The Vows were fighting each other.

“What do you want of me, Redcape?” Georgi growled.

“I… came to apologize,” I said. “For everything I’ve done.”

“What have you done?” He asked, pointing the knife in my direction.The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The pain in my soul became unbearable. My arm tried to arm the armacus on its own.

“P-please put the knife away,” I hissed. “I can’t hold back the Overseer’s Vow f-forever. I d-don’t want to hurt you, damn it.”

“Ah,” he looked down at the knife he was holding. “Right.”

The carpenter stepped back and placed the knife on the shelf. He dusted himself off and emerged onto the sunlit bridge. “Happy?”

I nodded. “L-let's go into the y-our house.”

“Well?” Georgi asked as I sat down on a couch in the living room of the Alans.

“I… I imprisoned you in your own house,” I said, wincing as his knuckles whitened. “It was wrong. None of this was your fault.”

“Uh-huh?”

“I’m the Overseer of Skyisle,” I muttered. “It's my job... I'm sorry.”

“Cut the chit-chat, Overseer, what do you want from me?” He pressed.

“I want to leave Skyisle,” I confessed. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be an Overseer. I want to see… my parents.”

I gasped, folding inward, nearly falling into darkness as my heart stopped momentarily.

[-1 in Soul]