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Chapter Seven: Confession
🕑 Added 2025-05-09 15:27:36 +0000 UTCGoogle Docs: For Suggestions
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The Word was Spoken and power, chaos, and violence erupted from Serena. Korvus was blown back, slamming through the wall of a building, collapsing it upon himself. The citadel was destroyed, unable to withstand the force of the Spoken Word. The stone walls crumbled, dooming any demons inside to a horrific death. Those below, humans and demons alike, were thrown back, piling up against the sides of the buildings ringing the far side of the square in a mass of bodies and broken limbs. Their lives were saved only by the distance from the Spoken Word.
She hovered there, in the air, her connection with the aetherfield so strong that she could mimic the levitation effect of the lifting engine of the Vengeance, which she could sense in the distance, the pulses from it beating through the aetherfield like a heart.
Something else is there. A thought arrived in her head, formed from curiosity that was not her own. Her attention was pulled to the black ship in the distance. Something strange called to her. There was a song, its melody caressing the aetherfield, a song just for her. Beckoning her.
It came from the fourth deck.
No! This was not her mind! Serena bit her tongue, using the pain to regain some clarity. She fought to keep the Word in control, to maintain her mind. She convected her aether, wrapping her body in simmering green hues. The normal auras of a warrior - red, orange, and yellow - the first-, second-, and third-level respectively, were now beneath her. The fourth-level, accessible only to those who can Speak the First-Word, was layered upon her skin as a subtle green aura, providing her a defence no shellfire could hope to penetrate.
The same aura spread into her sword, strengthening and sharpening it beyond anything a blacksmith could manage.
Narean, the Word itself, a manifestation of the will and power of the demon god of the same name, clung to her mind, eating away at her sense of self and demanding control, demanding violence and that blood be spilt in its name.
“I am in control,” she spat, gritting her teeth and steeling her willpower.
A traitor. Kill the mutineer. The Word whispered to her. Rip him to pieces. A warning flashed through her mind. She had Spoken Narean badly, in haste, and was already seeing the first signs of losing control: Aether-Cognitive Resonance – the echo of Narean’s will was talking to her. Any more and the demonic god might take full control.
“Argh!” Serena roared, her voice sounding like that of a beast. Another pulse of power emitted from her, and she felt her horns ignite with hellfire. A tail of flame formed from the base of her spine, and the faintest shadow of wings of black mist, not able to fully form in this realm, took vague shape upon her back.
“Bayle.”
The Spoken Word rippled through the aetherfield, triggering the attention of any Speaker or aetherscope within twenty klicks. The building her enemy had been blasted into exploded in black and grey flame, and within it stood the towering figure of her opponent, glaring at her.
Dark mist danced along his horns, and his grey body was now, like hers, hued in green. His hands had become scaled and his fingers changed into razor-sharp talons.
The force of his Word had excited Serena, and she gripped her sword tightly. To finally come head-to-head against Bayle! A chance then, to finally teach that demon god its uncouth and barbaric way of fighting fell short against her honourable blade!
No! Serena thought desperately. These are not my thoughts! They were the desires of Narean manifesting within her.
Her control was slipping.
Defeat Korvus. Save the human, she thought.
Kill Korvus. Kill the human, the Word inside her demanded.
“A captain… does what’s best for her crew,” said Korvus, his presence filling the area, threatening to suppress her own. “Stand down, Captain.”
Unable to stop herself, she launched herself at the mutineer, bringing down her sword upon him. The back of Korvus’s arm stopped the blade, but it still cut him, just barely. She struck him again and again, as he deftly parried and defended against her assault.
“Hmm…” Korvus said, before punching her in the gut, having found an opening in her attacks. “You’re not fully in control of your Word, are you?” he asked as Serena flew back through a ruined wall. She rolled on the ground before finding her feet and stance, the taste of iron appearing in her mouth.
“Bayle!” she roared. “You traitor!” The flames on her horns took on a new intensity and she flung herself back into the fight. Her sword slashed again and again, her tail of flame whipping and striking her enemy. As the rage increased, she felt herself become faster, and as she became faster, she felt her mind relinquish more and more control, and as the control slipped, the more powerful she became. Her green aura began to take on flecks of blue.
“Bayle!?” exclaimed Korvus, now needing to duck and dodge her attacks. “You lose your mind! Narean is taking control! Captain! You must not become a vessel! You–” He leapt to the side, avoiding a slash that destroyed the wall behind him and gouging a chunk out of the building behind it.
She chased him, chased Bayle. With every swing of her sword, she felt she was coming closer and closer to victory! How dare this demon mutiny against her, against the mighty Narean!
“I’m sorry, Captain,” Bayle muttered as he avoided another attempt at his life. “That it has come to this...” The demon leapt backwards, putting distance between them. A warning flashed in what little of Serena’s mind was still in control.
Danger.
Bayle clasped his hands together, and his aura exploded, the green aura replaced with a deep blue, with flecks of indigo. The fifth-level, with a hint towards the sixth! When had this traitor exceeded her abilities? How dare he!
Serena, or rather, Narean, gritted her teeth. She squeezed the power of the Word inside her further, fueling the process with her rage and determination. Her skin cracked and bled, hellfire spewing uncontrollably from her, and then it settled, as for the first time she crossed the barrier, just barely, into the fifth-level. She struggled to catch her breath, her body and brain burning from the exertion.
Bayle did not give her time to recover and attacked her immediately. A series of punches and claws assaulted her being, at a speed this vessel had never defended against before! Blue aura or not, she had to put everything into the defence; frantically parrying and dodging as the borderline sixth-level attacks threatened to end her, only the natural talent of this vessel kept it alive!
It was a losing struggle, and after only a few moments her left arm was sheared through at the elbow, and a follow-up punch broke her ribs, sending her flying through the walls of multiple buildings. She spewed blood, coughing and spluttering. She tried to stand, but her body was reaching its limits and refused to obey her.
“Narean. Your conflict with my god, and your arrogance, has doomed your vessel,” Bayle said, approaching where she lay sprawled. The demon raised his fist, talons shining in the sunlight, before bringing them down on her throat in a killing blow.
Those sharp talons met her skin and- what was this! They didn’t cut her! Her vision, which was fading to black, suddenly became clear, as warmth spread through her! Her ribs mended, and her left arm grew back. Her body radiated golden light, as spell-wards wrapped around her, supplementing her blue aura.
Amelia... A tiny part of Serena’s mind called out, but it was not enough. She could not wrestle back control from the Word she’d Spoken.
She was back up! She could continue fighting! She leapt at Bayle, slashing away, who returned in kind. However his strikes now barely scratched her! As she frantically attacked, she felt faster and stronger than ever before, her body enhanced by more than just defensive spells!
“Grr!” Bayle mumbled, as his initiative was slowly lost. “It seems… the human survived. She must die first.” He threw a wild swing at her, destroying the buildings behind her, and forcing her to throw herself to the ground to dodge. The traitor took the opportunity and leapt away, his powerful legs taking him in a great arc in the sky.
Then, a tremendous boom sounded out, and a flash of golden light blinded her momentarily, as a great lightning bolt struck out from the sky, blasting Bayle over the port walls and into the farmland and forest beyond.
She raced after him, consumed with rage, leaping onto a building and then over the wall. She found him in battle against… something. A golden light darted around the forest, almost too fast for her to track! Bayle was launching attacks in every direction, trees exploding with every strike, and chunks of earth were ripped up and thrown about the battlefield, each one enough to kill a dozen soldiers.
The golden light stopped for a moment, and she saw it was a person. Inside that blinding light, a pair of blue eyes found her own, and as it did, she felt her very core tremble for reasons unknown.
“Hi!” the light chirped. “You in there, Lady Halen?” It vanished, avoiding another attack from Bayle, before casting another bolt of lightning that brought Bayle to his knees. It didn’t end there, and spell after spell was cast down upon the demon until the almost sixth-level aura faded, the grey skin cracked, and a glassy expression took hold. The light murmured a spell, and chains of lightning reached from the heavens, holding down the mutineer.
A human saint! A human saint was here! What interference was this, to take her kill from her! To deny her battle against her nemesis!
The saint must die. Serena thought, obeying the influence of her Word.
She leapt at the light, swinging her sword with everything she had. The vile creature dodged, darting a hundred meters away in a split second. Tsk! She gave chase, swinging her weapon again, but the human would once again dodge, again and again.
“Oh…” the saint said, tilting her head, “Narean, are you there?”
“Don’t you dare speak my name, human!” she roared, slashing again but finding her sword couldn’t reach the fast-moving saint. “Coward! I will destroy you! What god presumes to interfere!”
“I suppose Serena is no longer there, so... I can speak openly... we… haven’t known each other long,” said the human, suddenly sounding nervous, “but… There must be a reason I met you. I’ve thought about this a lot…” No matter what she did, the human effortlessly avoided her attacks. It was enraging. “I had my suspicions, and the more we talked, the more I was convinced. Then, I saw you smile and laugh at something I said and it confirmed it, in the deepest parts of my heart!” The human shook its head, smiling, its eyes looked at her with an expression… an expression of…
“Love!” the saint squealed. “Love! At first sight!”
The human dodged another attack, bringing its hands to its cheeks as it blushed.
“I said it! Oh my! I’m shaking! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! It’s all so sudden, but it feels so real! Do you feel the connection? I feel it! Ah, it’s embarrassing!”
“Die!” she roared, but no matter how much she tried, her desire could not be made a reality.
“Well…” said the human, “I suppose it’s time to bring you back. You’ve destroyed so much of the port! Hrmph! Sixth-Circle, Aseco’s Restraint!”
Light flashed and bent as it gripped her limbs. She could no longer move. No matter how much she strained and fought, the chains of lightning that held her stood firm. “Human!” she hissed. “You vile creature! Release me!”
“Oh dear,” came the response. “What was it you said, Narean? What god presumes to interfere? Well, now it’s my turn to ask you.” The human leaned towards her, and Narean felt something she never thought she would feel in the presence of a human.
Fear. Raw, primal, fear.
“What pathetic, childish, lesser demon god presumes to interfere with me and mine!?”
She felt herself gulp. What mad human had her vessel involved herself with!?
“I had hoped that healing the body would heal the mind. Seems not. Appears I need to push a little more,” the human said, sounding thoughtful. “I'd forgotten the secret arts, that allow you to Speak without blowing everything up. Never had the use for it you see, me and my guildmates always took advantage of the initial power release in our raid tactics… Well then, brace yourself. This is going to hurt. A lot.”
The human, with a sickeningly smug expression on its face, took a breath.
A moment of silence.
And then it Spoke, and the Words it Spoke, filled with the human’s intention and will, rippled not through the aetherfield, but through the realm boundaries, across the mists, and into the very halls of the demon gods themselves, where every lesser deity dropped what they were doing as an overwhelming, choking pressure dominated their spirits and threatened their very existence as the Words, carrying a deadly warning, forced them to listen.
A monster, Narean thought as control of her vessel was ripped from her.
The creature had not lied.
It was very painful.
Dagon leaned back, hoping he did not appear as nervous as he felt. The demon in front of him, across the desk, had enough power to destroy him and everything he knew. A single word could have him begging for his life, which he would do if needed, even if it would be in front of every officer on the Vengeance who had been pulled into the captain’s quarters.
Not because the man was a Speaker, no. This demon had a far more powerful tool at his disposal.
Political power.
“The admiral…” the demon said, placing a cigar in his mouth, sparking a match with a flourish and lighting it. He took a drag, blowing smoke out of his nose, making him look like a dragon. Well, he did look like a dragon, due to the three sets of sharp, jagged horns that crowned his head.
Also, the man’s nickname was quite literally the Dragon.
“The admiral would like to know when the captain will wake up.”
Seven hells! He was going to crumble under this pressure! The weight of the man bore down upon him, and he wasn't even a Speaker! If this was the power of a Highlord, then what was it like to speak to a Greatlord? Or even the ones above them!? It took Dagon everything he had not to swallow or fumble his words.
Damn politicians.
“Captain Halen is still recovering, Highlord. Her body is healed, but her mind still rests. We do not know… how long it will be.” The last words were a struggle.
“It is so extraordinary,” intoned the Dragon, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “The aetherscopes on the fleet's intelligence ships detected two words being Spoken. One, Narean, then another, Bayle. One from your captain and the other from the commander of your ground forces. They fought. Why?” As he asked the question, his eyes narrowed and met Dagon’s. The man probably already knew the answer; Dagon was not the first to be interrogated.
So, he answered the question, knowing whatever he said would not satisfy the Highlord. If he had to be dressed down by the Dragon for his military career to survive, then so be it.
“Ah… That’s because Kor- the commander led a mutiny against the captain, Highlord. Two squads attacked us and-”
“That’s not quite right, is it?” The Highlord took another drag of his cigar, rolling it in his fingers. “They didn’t attack you. They attacked the human, did they not?”
“Yes, Highlord.” Dagon responded with an uneasy smile. “But… the human was part of the captain’s retinue, and so… an attack on the human was an attack… on her position…” Dagon trailed off, unable to continue under the glare he was receiving. The room's atmosphere was icy cold and the rest of the officers were dead silent, not moving a millimetre. They were likely thinking that if they didn’t move the Dragon might not see them.
“How puzzling,” said the Highlord, “because I just received an aethergram from her father, and he has not heard of this development, nor given it his blessing. Her father has become very interested in this development, and if he is interested, then I am interested. You understand how valuable her family is to the war effort, don’t you?”
Another drag of the cigar. The room was starting to smell. The captain hated smoking.
“Furthermore… Korvus was a talented Speaker, close to sixth-level. Some might say he was ahead of your captain in ability… so then, the question to be asked is how was he subjugated? Do you know?”
“Ah…”
“Because,” the Dragon continued, not letting Dagon get a word in. “Our aetherscopes detected holy attacks of a very powerful Speaker, and yet, no Word was spoken that could bring them about. Which means that human is capable of far more than she’s letting on…”
Another drag of the cigar, another intimidation of a dragon from the demon’s nostrils.
"She must know a word from a combat branch. The lightning attacks were too powerful. Your captain has brought an unknown dual-Speaker, at least, into the centre of one of the most important military operations of this war.”
“I’m sure she-”
“Damn it, Officer! She might be hanged for this! Both of them!”
Dagon gulped. Everything was so far out of his depth. Surely things wouldn’t escalate that far? “Highlord…” he said, voice straining. “But her father would not… permit that? His own daughter?”
“I doubt any love that man has for his daughters outweighs his duty. We’re trying to win a war, not frolicking around with human Speakers!” The demon stubbed his cigar out on the desk, crushing it angrily. “Not that I can hang them if I wanted to. I can’t even get to them! I can’t even talk to the damn human! Anathor!”
“Hmm…” came the gruff voice from the moose head. “The medical wing is off-limits to you, Highlord. It is... beyond your authority.”
“You’re lucky you don’t have a material form, you bastard! What about the agreement?”
“You know with whom the agreement was made, do you not? The ship has claimed both of them as under its protection. You may not touch them. Not without her permission.”
Perhaps it was Dagon’s imagination, but the woman in the portrait beside Anathor’s stuffed head seemed to be watching the events with amusement.
“I have three battleships sitting outside and a dozen heavy cruisers. What do you think would happen if I turned their guns on this ship, Anathor!?”
The moose was silent for a moment. “Then… Highlord. I’m afraid you would be down a fleet…”
Dagon didn’t know that the atmosphere could get any worse, but it somehow managed to. Thankfully, his other officers had joined him in forming a nervous sweat. What comradeship! He would buy them all drinks in the afterlife!
The Highlord did not respond, instead taking out another cigar, which was probably worth more than his month's salary, and lighting it. A painful minute of silence filled the quarters.
“Korvus will remain with us. When the captain wakes, inform her of such. I am disbanding your ground forces; we will take them and integrate them into our own. Where are the mutineers you captured?”
“Uh, in the cells, Highlord. Twenty-one, the others died during the… fighting.”
“Good. Hang them all. Sail to Kenhoro, find some new sailors mad enough to work on this ship. Fix the ship at the Imperial shipyards and then sail for Shimashina.”
“Y-yes, Highlord! That’s… far, why Shimashina?”
“One, I don’t care how great a healer that human is, nor her claimed opinion of demonkind. I want her as far away from the front line as possible.” The demon jabbed a finger at Dagon. “And two, that’s where your captain’s father is currently residing for the foreseeable future.”
“...Ah.”
“He wants to spend time with his daughter.”
The Highlord took a slow drag, and then once again crushed the expensive cigar into the desk.
“And the human.”
Four thousand miles away, within the great Cascadian Basin, lay the many cities of Centralis, which formed the economic and industrial core of the demon empire. Near the centre of these lay the magnificent city of Celle, the capital.
Within its districts of white and gold, at its highest point, sat the Cathedral of Bone, the empire's centre of power. Within its bone walls, inside a room built from the remains of a titanic creature long forgotten to most of the world, sat a woman.
Adorned in white clothes trimmed with gold thread, with blond hair and blue eyes, and two very small horns, so small that along with her pale skin, she could almost be mistaken as a human, the woman sat, sipping tea from a small cup.
She sat in perfect harmony with the world, for over the centuries it had long grown accustomed to her presence. The woman looked out the window at the empire beyond.
Her empire.
Then, without warning, she froze and the small cup fell from her hand, shattering upon the floor. The maid in the room looked at the cup, and then at her master.
“Divine One?”
“Theresa. Did you… hear something just now? Something echo in the Shimmer?”
“No, Divine One.” The maid was a triple-Speaker, knowing the First-Word of three distinct combat branches. “Is something the matter?”
The smallest of smiles appeared on the woman's face.
“A monster… has appeared.”
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