NOVPUBShe approached the protective dome, one hand extending until her fingertips brushed against its surface. Where she touched, the energy rippled and discolored, blue light fading to sickly yellow, then burning crimson before turning black as pitch. The corruption spread with frightening speed, consuming the entire barrier within heartbeats.
Then, with a sound like shattering glass, the protection collapsed completely.
"Witch!" one soldier screamed, abandoning formation to charge directly at the woman, his sword raised for a killing blow.
Her response was minimal, a slight flick of two fingers that sent the man flying backward as if struck by a battering ram. He hit the wall of a nearby cottage with bone-crushing force, his armour buckling inward from the impact before he slid limply to the ground.
"Not quite," she replied, still advancing toward the dwindling imperial unit. "The term 'witch' implies membership in a coven, adherence to traditional arcane methodologies." The rain parted around her like a curtain, leaving her completely dry as she stepped through the downpour. "I am something... less conventional."
The captain's hand dropped instinctively to his sword, fingers closing around the hilt with practiced ease. "Identify yourself," he demanded, though his voice lacked the certainty it had carried moments before.
"You may call me Death," she replied, the simple introduction carrying more menace than any elaborate title. "Though that name applies more to your current situation than my permanent identity."
As if to emphasize her point, the ground erupted in multiple locations, black thorned vines bursting forth to ensnare three more soldiers. The unnatural growth moved with sentient purpose, thorns seeking vulnerabilities in imperial armor before tightening with inexorable force. The men's screams were mercifully brief before the vines completed their grisly work.
Only the captain and two final soldiers remained standing, their backs to Rina as they faced the approaching nightmare. In their rigid postures, terror warred with duty—the instinct to flee battling years of imperial conditioning.
"Sir?" One soldier's voice quavered as he sought direction from his commander.
The captain drew himself up, summoning the remains of his courage. "We are the Emperor's Tooth, third company," he proclaimed, brandishing his sword. "We do not yield to heretics and devils."
"Admirable," Death commented, her tone suggesting the opposite. "Futile, but admirable."
She raised both hands in a fluid gesture that seemed more dance than spellcasting. The air around the soldiers shimmered with unnatural heat despite the cold rain, moisture evaporating from their armor in wisps of steam. For a moment, nothing else happened.
Then one soldier screamed, clawing frantically at his face. Blood poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth as he collapsed to his knees, his cries becoming wet, bubbling sounds as more blood erupted from his throat. The second guard followed seconds later, armour rattling as his body convulsed in violent spasms.
"What are you doing to them?" The captain demanded, horror overwhelming protocol as he watched his men die in inexplicable agony.
"Nothing particularly complex," Death replied with academic detachment. "Simply accelerating the natural process of decay. Your men are experiencing approximately seventy years of aging in roughly thirty seconds. Quite rapid, but necessarily imprecise when applied to multiple subjects simultaneously."
As if to illustrate her point, the dying soldiers' skin began to wither visibly, pulling tight across suddenly prominent bones before disintegrating entirely. Within moments, only armour remained, scattered pieces collapsing inward as the bodies they had protected crumbled to dust.
The captain stared in horror, his sword wavering as the full implication of what he faced settled into his consciousness. Not witch, not mage, but something far worse—a practitioner of forbidden arts so ancient they predated imperial classification systems.
"Take the girl and go," he said, surprising himself with the steadiness of his voice. "I won't stop you."
Death smiled, a genuine expression that transformed her features from cold perfection to something almost warm. "How reasonable of you, Captain. Unfortunately..." She gestured toward the carnage surrounding them. "Witnesses remain problematic."
Before he could respond, a massive shadow detached itself from the alley beside the nearest cottage. The armored giant that emerged moved with impossible speed for something so large, closing the distance to the captain in a single bound. One gauntleted hand seized the imperial officer by the throat, lifting him effortlessly until his feet dangled uselessly above the muddy ground.
"Must we?" Death sighed, watching as the giant, Draven, held the struggling captain aloft. "I was considering a more... educational approach. The hex I mentioned earlier would allow him to return to his master with fascinating implications."
Draven's helmet turned toward her, the skull-like visage somehow conveying skepticism despite its fixed expression.
"Oh, very well," Death conceded. "Your way is certainly more definitive."
With surgical precision, Draven tightened his grip. The sound of the captain's neck snapping was almost gentle, a quiet conclusion to the brutal symphony that had played out across the village square.
As the last imperial soldier dropped lifeless to the mud, Death turned her attention to Rina. The azure-haired woman had remained motionless throughout the slaughter, perhaps understanding that flight would be futile against such power, or simply too shocked by the display to attempt escape.
"Rina Celestade," Death addressed her, voice softening slightly. "Your situation has become rather complicated, hasn't it?"
Rina's gaze swept across the bodies strewn around them, imperial armor now nothing more than metal coffins for cooling flesh. "Who are you really?" she managed, her earlier defiance momentarily subdued by the slaughter she had witnessed.
"Someone who recognizes potential," Death replied, producing a small cloth to wipe blood from her hands with fastidious care. "My actual name is irrelevant for now. What matters is what you witnessed in Councilor Verath's private chambers and what we might offer in exchange for that information."
"You killed imperial soldiers," Rina whispered, the full implications of what had happened beginning to register. "Twenty imperial soldiers. There's no place in the empire I could hide from such a crime."
"Who said anything about hiding in the empire?" Death countered, a slight smile touching her lips. "There are other options for someone with your... unique talents."
The armored giant approached, its heavy footsteps leaving bloody impressions in the mud. Though it made no sound, its presence carried unspoken menace, a reminder that Rina's choices had narrowed considerably since witnessing the massacre.
"What options?" Rina asked, her natural suspicion reasserting itself despite her precarious position.
"Training. Purpose. A place within a network that operates beyond imperial oversight." Death gestured toward the village's edge, where the faint outline of a covered carriage could just be discerned through the rain. "Or you can take your chances with the next imperial patrol that comes searching for their missing comrades. I imagine they'll be particularly thorough in their interrogation techniques."
Rina's golden eyes narrowed as she weighed possibilities against available information. Her gaze settled on Death's hands, elegant despite the violence they had wrought, with a small signet ring partially concealed on her left index finger. An insignia that Rina recognized from whispered rumors in the governor's household.
"You're Eden," she stated rather than asked. "Shadows."
Death's expression revealed nothing beyond mild interest. "That name means different things to different people. What matters is what it could mean to you, survival, for a start. Perhaps something more, depending on your aptitude and dedication."
Rina took one last look at the slaughtered imperial soldiers, men who would have delivered her to torture and execution without hesitation. Her decision crystallized with surprising clarity.
"When do we leave?"
Death's smile never reached her eyes. "Immediately. The rain will wash away much, but bodies have a way of attracting attention, regardless of weather."
With a complex gesture, she summoned a whirlwind that scoured the village square, lifting bodies and blood alike, dispersing the evidence of slaughter across the surrounding countryside. Another motion caused the earth to ripple and shift, swallowing the remaining evidence and smoothing itself as if nothing had happened.
As they moved toward the waiting carriage, the armored giant fell into step behind them, a silent guardian whose presence promised protection and threat in equal measure. Rina cast one final glance toward the village that had briefly sheltered her from imperial justice, knowing she was leaving behind not just a location but her entire former existence.
What waited ahead remained uncertain, but one thing had become abundantly clear amid the rain and blood of Thistlebrook village: whoever controlled this "Eden" network operated with resources and magic far beyond ordinary power structures. And now, for better or worse, Rina Celestade had become part of it.
