No Rest From the Wicked

TW: Swearing

Having performed miracles, the lord had the crowd in the palm of his hand. A crown he’d conjured sat upon his regal head. His face was beautiful and hateful. His smile was doom and delight. Silver eyes reflected the eager inn patrons rushing to him to buy a miracle from the monster.

Sir Danielle Longbow waded through the crowd. “Please, don’t do it.” Her voice was lost in the pleas to be the rogue’s selfish boon recipient. They paid attention when she drew her sword. Her armoured bulk cut the sea of watchers as a hot knife does butter. She stood a head taller than most, looking down at greedy faces.

“Leave. Now.” She held the point of her sword to the throat of the lord who had turned from a man to a facsimile whiter than snow. He smiled the brilliant smile. His teeth became razor sharp needles.

“I can kill all but one of you,” he said to the remains of the crowd. “I only need one.”

“He’s lying to you,” Danielle said. When she turned she saw eager faces. Old crones and cripples who wanted youth and vigour again petitioned to be the one, the survivor. “If he has his way, you’ll all die.”

“I’m dying anyway,” said a woman with growths all over her body. “I’ll say it.”

Danielle put a hand across the woman’s mouth. “No, she won’t. Everyone out or I’ll kill you for treason myself. You all know I’ve killed monsters, don’t become one. Get out.”

More left, the dying woman stepped closer to the inhuman with mirrored eyes.

“What deal can you make, Danielle? I’ve come in search of death. I won’t leave until I’ve had it.” The veil of lordship fell away. Armour washed into place where the fine black and red clothes had been. His armour was hide and bone. “What do you think, mortal? Is this what you imagined?” He was a chalk statue in leather, still magnificent but animalistic instead of refined.

“You’re not from this world,” said Sir Longbow.

“What gave it away?” His vicious teeth shone with a pearly beauty.

“You have to draw blood for your god?”

“The gods give nothing for free, especially power such as mine.” The words were a casual breeze from his lips. The death of her home would be a transaction for him, nothing more.

“Your god likes blood sports?”

“Look at the world, Danielle, they all do. My god is simply honest enough to admit it. If you’d ever seen the other worlds you’d know. Even at their greatest they are monuments to futility.” He believed that. His certainty was in the cold stare of his silver eyes, the steady, passionless delivery.

“So, we’re either predators or prey?” She’d heard similar before, from rapists at the gallows. From serial killers who just couldn’t stop. From slum lords raising the rent.

“Exactly. I’m impressed you caught on so quickly. You could save your city if you’re willing to risk your own life?” He smiled the smile of a vengeful man passing the object of his hatred poisoned food.

“What do you have in mind?” She asked. Her hand gripped her sword tight.

He answered with magic. Behind him a circle of bloody fire appeared. Through the flames was a land of floating mountains and thorns. Everything was cast in the vivid red of blood lit by flame.

“Show your skill for monster slaying on my world. Best ten beasts and I’ll leave this city alone for a hundred years.” He seemed to think it was a final offer, not an opening bid.

“I fight one monster of your choice and you leave Crann alone forever.” Danielle said with the same finality.

“No chance. Time to talk to the woman.”

“Yes, my lord. I’m ready.” The crone smiled at the monster with the sparkling eyes of a young bride to her handsome betrothed.

“No. How about I kill two monsters and you stay away for ten thousand years. You’re immortal, I’m sure. That isn’t so long for you.”

“Ten monsters for five hundred years.”

“Three monsters for a thousand years.”

“Nine monsters for six hundred years,” said the alien.

“Four monsters and you’re gone for a millennium.”

“Five monsters.” He was done.

“How can I trust your word?” She asked.

His smile was the smug grin of every pompous bastard in the world combined. “You can't, I suppose. But you’ll have to. If you kill five monsters in my world, then I’ll avoid Crann for a thousand years. Deal?” He cut his palm with a knife summoned from thin air.

“I’ll shake your hand to seal the deal. I’m not cutting mine though.”

His laugh was vile. Her skin crawled as he wiped tears of mirth from his eyes. “No. You’re right. You wouldn’t want blood on your beautiful green uniform. The tree is delightful.” He waved a hand at the portal. “Let’s go, hero.”

“I need to say goodbye to people.”

“No. You fight now, or she gets to be eternally youthful, and dragons will scour your home.” His silver eyes reflected Danielle in her green Crann tabard with the gold oak upon it. The heater shield with a unicorn leaping upon it was distorted by the curve of his lenses.

The dying woman shrugged to say that she didn’t care either way.

“Five monsters and you, leave Crann alone for a millennium. Swear it,” Danielle demanded. He had the power to crush the whole city by himself but rules to follow. She could only hope that his word would be his bond. “And you’ll bring me back here when I’m done.” She didn’t want to complete the deal and be stuck on another world.

“If,” he said. That disgusting smile hung across his face, ear to ear.

“When.” She tilted her head, waiting.

“I swear that if you can kill five monsters of my choosing on my world, I will return you and leave your pitiful nation alone for a thousand years.” He held out a hand. White as snow. Cold as ice. Hard as stone. They shook.

“After you,” she said.

He nodded.

Smug piece of shit, she thought.

“Am I? Tough.” He said, his words conveyed that the smile was still there as he walked through a portal wreathed in flames.

In the light of his own world as he looked back, the skin that was white on her world looked red or orange. The eyes that had been silver looked gold.

She stepped through, wishing she had asked more questions.

Too late.

On crimson rock atop a cliff, she saw a world where gravity was a suggestion ignored by most of reality. Mercy was a foreign concept despised by the locals. Her solid footing bobbed as she moved her weight. The ground when she looked over the cliff was somewhere far below. Darkness gave no hint of the distance.

She’d seen aurora on her world, the dancing menace in the sky had the same forms as the magnetic distortions she’d seen. On that world they were rage in red and orange.

Twisting silhouettes snaked through the air far away.

A drizzle of blood fell from the sky, though nothing bled above her.

“Ready or not, here it comes.” That voice she hated began the fight.

She turned; sword drawn.