Chapter 107: Armies
As soon as those words left him, the wind came in sharp, snapping against their cloaks without managing to move either of them.
The man who had once been a raven glanced sideways, confusion flashing briefly across his face, but he kept silent. He waited, still as stone, for another command.
The other man lifted two fingers. At once, the air in front of him warped, like a distortion let loose by a small indecipherable action. It started with a faint bend in the darkness, like heat trembling above fire, but it quickly spread outward in a slow curve that moved with the rhythm of the tide behind them.
The space before them thinned and stretched, losing its solid shape until it resembled water suspended upright in the middle of the shore. One would imagine that the sea itself had risen from the ground and taken shape before them, held upright by something unseen, rather than gravity. It didn’t look exactly like gravity, but something ever so mysterious.
The surface rippled once before it stilled completely. A wave stood before them now, smooth as glass, though something beneath it constantly shifted with shadows passing through its depths. Flickers of light followed after them and fragments of another place appeared—yet disappeared too quickly to fully make out.
Gradually, the image sharpened, and a room emerged from the distortion. An unconscious woman lay beneath heavy covers, swallowed by darkness except for the pale outline of her face. Her breathing came unevenly, shallow enough to make it seem as though every breath cost her effort.
A faint sheen of sweat clung to her skin, and her brows were tightly drawn, the strain visible even in sleep. Several strands of wet brown hair clung to her face and neck, sticking there from the heat gathering against her skin as she shifted weakly.
And for the first time since the image reflected her, a broken breath slipped from her lips, the only movement beside an occasional twist and turn. "...no..."
The sound never truly crossed the distance between them, yet they heard it clearly anyway.
Of course they did.
For a while, neither man spoke. They only watched as the woman remained trapped somewhere deep within whatever nightmare held her until something changed.
At first, it was so subtle it could have been mistaken for the tide shifting against the shore when the sea behind them began to vibrate, though not enough to stir waves or send water crashing against the rocks. It was far deeper than that.
A low trembling sound moved through the black water itself, spreading slowly outward beneath the surface. At once, the wind died with it and the entire shore fell unnaturally still.
The raven servant noticed it first. His eyes narrowed as he looked toward the sea, his confusion fading into a familiar recognition, as though he already knew what was about to happen.
The cold grew heavier somehow, pressing against the skin like invisible weight. Even the darkness along the shoreline seemed thicker than before, stretching farther across the sand than it should have.
Another vibration rolled through the water and this time, the shore answered, a disturbance beneath the water, like a ripple that did not belong to tide or wind. Then another disturbance, and another, until the sea began to stir with... bodies.
Shapes rose slowly from beneath the surface, breaking through black water in unnatural silence. Pale hands emerged first, followed by limbs dragged from the depths as figures pulled themselves upward, one after another. Their movements were slow, uneven, and wrong to the eyes.
They did not hesitate with every motion, rising in dozens, before hundreds. The shoreline darkened as they gathered, forming a mass that stretched along the coast like a living shadow. Hollow eyes stared forward, empty of will yet bound by something similar to obedience.
Decay clung to them, but it did not weaken them. Across the sea, far beyond sight, more began to rise, like an awakened army. It was obvious that they were responding to the sleeping woman, who turned restless as the seconds passed by, muttering incoherent words.
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The raven servant stared at the shoreline as another body dragged itself from the sea.
"There are too many this time," he muttered.
The other man said nothing at first. His eyes remained fixed on the distorted image before them, watching the woman twist weakly beneath the covers.
Behind them, another corpse emerged from the water with a sickening crack of stiff joints. Then another beside it.
The servant exhaled slowly through his nose. "I remember when there were only a few." His gaze swept across the growing shore. "Now look at them."
Another body dragged itself from the water behind them, joints cracking as it straightened unnaturally.
The servant watched it in silence for a moment before speaking again. "Her connection is getting stronger," he observed. Something about the way he said it didn’t seem pleasing.
"No," the creature responded without taking his eyes off the reflection. "Her restraint is getting weaker."
The servant’s expression tightened slightly at that.
Along the shoreline, the creatures continued rising from the sea as some stood motionless after reaching the sand. One of the figures stumbled forward with a dragging limp, seawater pouring from its ruined clothes.
He was pale. Eerily pale, but compared to the creatures that attacked Regharon, he looked... famished. They all appeared entirely unnourished, though no less scarier.
Another vibration rolled beneath the shore. Farther out at sea, more shapes began surfacing through the darkness. Hundreds now or perhaps more.
The other man finally shifted his attention from the image. His gaze moved toward the growing army lining the coast.
The shoreline continued filling with bodies until there was barely any black sand left visible between them. Their silence made the sight worse somehow. An ordinary monster or vice versa would have growled, but it was only the sound of wet footsteps and the occasional crack of bones forcing themselves back into movement.
The servant swallowed once before lowering his voice, "She doesn’t even know she’s doing this, does she?"
The creature’s eyes returned to the sleeping woman. "No," he said, his voice extremely flat. "But something inside her does,"
At once, the woman’s body jerked beneath the blankets. His gaze remained fixed on her, as though he were watching for something far more important than the nightmare itself. Another strained breath left her lips, while her fingers tightened weakly around the sheets beneath her.
At once, a shadow moved within the vision when the door opened, revealing a brooding figure that stepped inside. Even through the distortion, his presence was unmistakable, cold and unyielding.
He closed the door behind him without sound before moving farther into the room. The dim light caught the ruthless scars across his face, sharp against the shadows, while his expression remained carved into something unreadable. Yet there was still something in the way he stopped beside the bed, something that betrayed him.
The woman shifted again, a quiet sound leaving her throat as her breathing grew more uneven and his eyes lowered to her immediately.
For a moment, he simply stood there watching her. Then his jaw tightened. The movement was slight enough that most would have missed it entirely.
The figure reached down without hesitation and grabbed her wrist firmly. The woman jerked violently beneath the blankets, a strained breath catching in her throat as though she were falling deeper into whatever nightmare held her.
The servant frowned. "What is he doing?"
But the creature beside him remained silent.
Within the vision, the scarred man’s expression darkened almost imperceptibly as he held her wrist tighter, like he could feel something wrong beneath her skin.
His gaze moved across her face carefully, studying the strain beneath every feature. The room itself had changed.
The shadows near the corners looked deeper than before, faintly shifting whenever the woman’s breathing became uneven. Even the air around the bed seemed strangely heavy.
He noticed it too.
Slowly, his grip loosened from her wrist before he placed his hand against the side of her neck instead, checking her pulse. From the manner his jaw ticked, the answer was clear enough.
His eyes narrowed faintly. Another restless movement left her as her fingers curled weakly against the blankets. "...please..."
The word barely formed but it made something flicker across his expression, and gone almost instantly.
The servant looked toward the creature beside him. "The Sin knows something’s happening," he said.
"Yes."
"But he can’t see this," His gaze moved toward the army along the shore. "Can he, master?"
Within the vision, the scarred man sat at the edge of the bed without a word. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight.
For several seconds, he did absolutely nothing.
Then, unexpectedly, he reached forward and brushed the damp strands of hair away from her face. The motion was careful despite the roughness of his hands, almost awkward, like someone unused to gentleness.
"Tsk," the creature muttered from his end, though his face remained unreadable. "I wouldn’t have believed someone like him to be prone to humanity after many centuries," the words fell flat between them. "Dangerous," he said. "For both of them."
His fingers twitched once, and the surface of the wave shuddered until the vision shattered into nothing, dissolving back into the still air as though it had never existed at all.