The Mook Maker

Ari looked at the shrine.

 

Statues of the old gods were damaged, desecrated, mostly shattered. Only the traces of the paint on some pieces had suggested what they once were, but they, too, were nothing more than the rubble that still bore the expensive colourants wasted in tribute to the unworthy gods. 

 

Ari wanted to laugh. 

 

The serpent in her mind peeked out from its hiding with curiosity as the many voices echoing through the poor girl's mind pulsated like the heart stricken with fury, like the sky drifting into the summer storm that never ended, with many-forked lighting illuminating the horizon, all of it contained within Ari’s skull.

 

It hurt. 

 

Like a fever, one she had before the snake that had devoured her memories. 

 

Yet none of this mattered.

 

It was a good pain.

 

Ari, once lost and damned, wasn’t lost anymore, for she had a mission, a greater purpose.

 

Neither hungry, nor on the run, she had found her calling in the service of her new god, to herald his word to the people, to end all of this suffering such which befell the unfortunate girls like the late Ari.

 

Sometimes she wondered what her father would think of her.

 

Alas, she couldn’t remember him, the image of the man gone, forgotten, delegated to nothing but the rational explanation of her existence before the coiling serpent devoured the past to make space for the future. 

 

She knew she must have a father, and a mother, but she could barely recall the faces of her family now, let alone the reasons that led her there, almost like the thoughts were of the little mice the snake hunted when she slept, when her mind was hazy and the myriad of voices let her rest. 

 

Something, however, persisted even in her dreams. 

 

She had visions of unearthly groves and impossible creatures that came to her when she slept, all reshaped in the grand, incomprehensible design His Spirits worked tirelessly towards. The forest she once stumbled upon lost now wore their mark, a monument to the power of her true god. 

 

Somewhere to the east, she could feel his eternal call, an unseen beacon of not-fire, unseen by the mundane eyes, yet more intense than she had ever experienced. It would never let her stray away from her path, even under the starless skies or clouded heavens.  

 

Was the girl without a soul truly damned, or was she blessed beyond imagination? 

 

Her body didn’t know any other aches anymore, neither the punches of the violent men nor the arrows shot down from the battlement could threaten her. Hurt, yes, it could still hurt, but it was now little more than the passing sting of the insignificant insects she should not fear. 

 

Somewhere in the distance, yet somewhere intimately close inside, the chatter of minds beyond the mortal ken continued. 

 

The villagers who didn’t let her ‌rest within their walls as she fled from the war, who left her to scuttle in the dirt like a bug, were eaten by bugs. It was strange; she knew. She didn’t know from where the thought came, she just knew it suddenly, like the ability to sew she must have learned somewhere, yet the images of her teacher somehow eluded her. 

 

Perhaps it was the father she ought to have, but knew no longer. 

 

It all made her giggle. 

 

Ari thought the snake liked the voices in her head, too, she realised. 

 

They kept them both safe. 

 

The voices showered her like the morning rain dancing on the surface of the water on which the snake floated when it slept, hidden among the impossible reeds that would soon embrace the river. 

 

It was happy, she thought, the serpent in her mind.

 

Well fed, still resting after he gorged himself on the souls from the fire he shared with Ari’s god in their feast, roasted by the sacrificial fire of yesterday, celebrating their victory against the worthless peasants. 

 

It was glorious. 

 

Ari wondered if any of the men who hurt her still lived. 

 

They were all slaughtered by the Spirits, as it was promised. Nothing of them remained, neither bodies nor souls, both fed to fuel the transformation of the world into a design only the Spirits understood. 

 

Maybe, further to the east, some people that scorned her still remained. Maybe the former family that renounced her was still out there somewhere, but all of it would come to pass as the Spirits’ fire travelled east scorched the earth and let the future grow from the ashes..

 

She couldn’t help herself to chuckle for a bit, and then she broke into laughter. 

 

Her vengeance was complete, although her service was not. She swore to serve forever, after all. 

 

Ari didn’t want to quit anyway, for she had the greater purpose now. She was no longer a homeless vagrant scrambling amidst the dirt. She was a herald to the forces beyond mortal ken. 

 

She made a few steps forward, inspecting the now abandoned shrine after her lord and master departed with the Cat Spirits which slid through the holes in the world.

 

Only the blue-green likeness of the Viridian High Lady remained, still casting the shadow of her presence in this sanctuary, but Ari knew that even that wouldn’t last, for the might of Ari’s lord and master was ever growing, showering this unworthy world with its shining light. 

 

In the end, all would be one. 

 

Ari considered if she should build her god a temple. 

 

He deserved one, but the voices didn’t seem to have any preference over how it should look, It made Ari laugh once again. Leaving the task, yet again, to the girl. 

 

Ari knew nothing of carving wood, or chiselling a stone, but a flag with roots spreading above and below, that one she could sow. Glimpses of people who taught her craft were all nearly lost to the snake now, but she was confident she could guide the needle with the skill it required. 

 

The serpent in her mind had a plan of its own, it seemed. 

 

She let her thoughts wander too much and forgot about her surroundings for the moment, only to be interrupted by the man that approached her in haste.

 

A mortal, yes, one acolyte that saw reason. 

 

“Priestess?” Soldier asked, visibly uncertain whether she was communing with the higher power now, his tone pressing, and continued, 

 

“Priestess! Guards led by the city magistrate demand to be let into the palace! They won’t allow further delay!” 

 

“Let them in.” She decided calmly, looking once again up to the sky, almost looking for guidance. Yet there was no reason to not let townsfolk restore normal life after this place had served its purpose until they all decided to embrace their fated future. 

 

In the end, all shall be one. 

 

“They must have their business with the viceroy. It is up to him to allow the audience now.”

 

“Yes, Priestess!” He retorted, and ran away, leaving Ari to her ruminations. 

 

She, however, cannot idle for much longer, lost to the song that the Spirits sang in her head. 

 

Ari has been instructed to apologise for the destruction of the palace’s garden to the Viceroy. 

 

Then she would return to her duties in converting this city’s populace to her faith, as she was intended to.

 

Ari knew nothing about ruling a city, that probably was the matter for which the magistrate sought an audience with the viceroy, and she would only remind them who they should serve in the end, eventually. 

 

The girl turned, only to find the priest of the old goddess still lurking at the gate, eyeing the shrine with suspicion almost as if he searched for something. 

 

Then she realised he was looking for the Wolf Spirits which remain hidden beyond the veil of moving air, hidden within the shadows where they couldn’t be noticed at all, yet maintained their vigil over her. 

 

The man hesitated, bowed finally, and when he was going to speak, he froze, staggered, and fell, like he just had too much rice wine the moment his eyes caught something behind Ari’s back.

 

She looked over her shoulder. 

 

The crack between the realms opened above, but this time, the Cat Spirit didn’t slip through it. Instead, the body crashed into the last undamaged idol, all broken and gory, followed by another, painting the bluegreen statue crimson from all the blood.

 

Ari couldn’t help herself but to giggle. 

 

Her god - her master - had a better plan for the temple.

 

Snake reared its head, once again intrigued, alarmed even.  

 

Then, the unseen flash her eyes didn’t see, but she could still perceive, like the story she just heard. The anger filled the air briefly, only for something more powerful taking precedence, which restored the forever blazing beacon that was her master, her god, his aura shining strong in the distance.

 

The voices in her head, ever restless, coalesced into a thunderstorm, mightier than ever before, with one new, stronger appearing in the midst of them, strangely different from the harmonious unity of others, interrupting their unified choir, snivelling for attention where she had no right to speak.

 

It was where the dragon went after this shrine went silent. 

 

Ari knew what that voice was, and the realisation of how pathetic the old gods had become, or perhaps ever were, brought a smile to her lips. Her god was powerful, if the Viridian High Lady sought alliance with the Dark One.  

 

The old priest looked at her, shaking with terror, unable to comprehend what just happened. 

 

His eyes betrayed his shock. 

Ari made a few steps forward to the man. 

 

He shook his head, covered his ears, scratched his face, all in the mix of utter confusion and panic, acting like the ants were crawling over him. 

 

“Voices! So many voices! Make it stop! Make it stop!” He babbled, still trying to get rid of illusionary ants. 

 

It amused Ari - the fool was still refusing to embrace the voices instead. Eventually, he would understand, but it would be a matter of time. The Herald had no instructions about him, personally. 

 

“Ancient minds of evil kinds. It was folly to go one by one!” The priest continued, increasingly more erratic: “Make them stop! They won’t stop talking! Talk and talk!”

 

However, soon, the noise outside caught her attention, and she strolled from the shrine into the palace gardens.

 

“Don’t go to the light! They eat you and make more voices!” The man wailed behind her. Of course there would be more Spirits - silly man. However, as funny as it was, the ruckus in the garden was now a priority. 

 

City guards weren’t here to provide the security to the magistrate, or have a rather pointless conversation with the viceroy. If they were, they wouldn’t bother with the gardens. 

 

More voices erupted inside Ari’s head, but she paid them no mind. It was as it was always meant to be. 

 

Ari could deal with the foolish priest later.

 

She descended the stairs leading to the temple, and found Madame Mai here, toying with the red leaves, her unparalleled magic making the place more beautiful than it ever was before. Her white scales gleamed in the afternoon sun, the Spirit’s clawed finger dances as she made the bloody red bushes erupt from the briefly dead ground. 

 

Madame Mai acknowledged her, and Ari bowed to the Great Spirit.

 

Yet, the noble Spirit wasn’t left alone in her holy work, and the group of armed men charged into the garden, stumbling around - the city guards, judging from their outfits, had invaded this place, shouting over each other.

 

“Witch! Arrest the witch!” One screamed, raising his sword, pointing his weapons at Ari. 

 

She found it quite funny.

 

Only then they noticed Madame Mai, which immediately halted their advance towards Ari, and the city guards hesitated. 

 

“Kill the spirit. Quickly. Then kill the witch!” One of them hollered, and they all prepared their spears, yet still didn’t dare to attack, even taking a step back when Ari moved.  

 

Ari was not afraid. One group of ten, perhaps fifteen men, didn’t scare her anymore, but she would have to do something about their lack of respect for the Greater Spirit. 

 

She was furious and wanted nothing more than to punish their insolence. 

 

As she walked forward, filled with conviction to act, the arrow swooshed through the air, hitting Ari in the shoulder, but she tore it out without pausing. Two guards had brought crossbows. 

 

Ari was not afraid, for she was blessed! 

 

The pain was entirely unimportant, a passing realisation which Ari immediately forgot as the only thing that mattered was the Spirits that sang about the grand design days ago, and she was no longer bound by many weaknesses that were ailing her in her old life. The bleeding wound already started to close itself, even without the Rat Spirit’s help. 

 

Ari continued forward. 

 

Several guards stabbed their spears before she even entered their reach, none of them brave enough for the direct confrontation, but Ari didn’t even flinch when the steel point stopped in front of her face. 

 

They thought she was like a wild animal.

 

It was amusing. 

 

She managed to catch the spear, yanking it away from the surprised guard’s grasp. 

 

Pathetic, she thought. 

 

The will of her god, her Master, shall be done, and soon, Ari would redeem the misguided actions of the townsfolk by offering their souls in the sacrifice to the great power that even now fueled her body. 

 

Another arrow sailed somewhere past her. 

 

They didn’t get to the third. 

 

The earth erupted with the rapidly growing vines, making their way towards the bunch of the guards, tripping them to the ground as they tried to spark to action, only to be confused by the garden itself turning against them. 

 

Their leader, armed by the sword, tried to hack the creeping plant, only to run into the Wolf Spirit appearing behind him. He tried to bring the sword to bear, but it was too late, and at that moment, the guard’s blood sprayed the garden. Then more Wolf Spirits emerged from the shadow, ripping and tearing, the ordinary humans of the city guard too confused to react.

 

Some tried to flee, but the shriek that pierced the air brought them to the ground almost like all their bodies refused to work for a split second, even before Ari closed the distance between them.

 

Unfortunately, they would become someone else's prize, and then they would serve her god anyway, their bodies and minds twisted as the Bat Spirits would decree. 

 

Ari stopped to once again give a Great Spirit a proper, profound obeisance, undecided whether she should leave when Madame Mai was present, but she got the answer immediately. 

 

The meaning behind the language of the Spirit just presented itself like the old memory, a fact she clearly recalled, making Ari even stronger if the conviction to follow the will of the Dark One and his esteemed Spirits.

 

It was still somewhat odd that she sensed the words of the Spirits, and their meaning, rather than speaking in their tongue like she would her own, but banished the foolish idea immediately. This felt intimately closer. 

 

“This one is apologising on behalf of the worthless mortals, Madame Mai.” she said, and concepts instead of words were her answer. 

 

While the Great Spirit wasn’t upset by the disrespect with which the humans acted, unconcerned by the mortal customs, Ari couldn’t let the presumptions behaviour slide.

 

“This one…” Ari said, and Madame Mai, in her greatness, left the resolution of this matter to her, allowing to act as she saw fit. The voices that continued to echo within the girl’s head were now captivated by the fresh additions to the choir, and were comfortably delegating the authority regarding the trifling mortal manners to their herald. 

 

Ari was going to fully exercise that authority. 

 

“Yes, Madame Mai.” she said, and quickly left for the palace, with the Wolf Spirits sneaking in her shadow, leaving a certain sense of privilege in the once simple girl. 

 

Ari strolled through the corridors of the palace entirely in blind, never visiting the place herself, but there was something oddly familiar about all the unlit corners and floating shadows, like the path she had strolled already as someone else.

 

The Wolf Spirit guided her in her thoughts. 

 

The wound in her shoulder closed itself already, and Ari found herself truly blessed, no longer a mere girl, weak and helpless against the violent bandits, but chosen by the forces beyond her comprehension. 

 

“For Master For Master For Master!” Ari sang to herself, embracing the beauty of the storm that raged within her head, thousands upon thousands of voices, all different, yet all united, in a harmony most of the ignorant fools could not even begin to understand. 

 

Her mind started to slip away from her small, individual self, towards the greater whole shared by all Spirits. 

 

She didn’t quite understand which turns she took on her route here, but she found herself in front of another two guards, posted at the door of the private chambers. The men, clearly on edge, were nervous from the moving shadow and the shifting air. 

 

They were not the remnants of the Viceroy’s personal guard, but one from the city instead, recognizable with their distinctive outfits with considerably lesser protection, which was rather unusual even for someone not quite familiar with the provincial governance. 

 

“It’s the witch!” they screamed and scrambled to attack . One of them levelled his spear, but didn’t have a chance to thrust it, as the Wolf Spirits emerged from the shadows, brandishing their claws, and soon both assailants felt their throats ripped.

 

Ari, heedless of the danger, opened the door. She was welcomed by the two more soldiers, again belonging to the city’s militia, and the well-dressed official, which Ari assumed was the magistrate. 

 

The Viceroy laid on the ground beneath what would be his seating for the audience, clutching the profusely bleeding wound on his stomach. 

 

All looked at Ari when she entered the room.

 

“We, the Viceroy of Surao province… agree to the agreement with the Spirits … that was offered to us, to help … secure…” The Viceroy said, the life fleeing from him, and coughed blood, “Help! Will do … anything!” 

 

It was treason then, Ari thought. 

 

“Not anymore! Kill the Witch!” The magistrate yelled. Both of his loyalist guards, however, hesitated. With their hands on the hilts of their swords, they hesitated to draw their weapons.  

 

“Cowards!” the magistrate wailed and drew a dagger from his voluminous robes, quickly approaching Ari.

 

She smiled when the blade pierced her stomach. The agony it provided was entirely unimportant in the larger scheme, and her blessing was still greater, and the world was nothing less than the afterthought. 

 

The eyes of the treacherous magistrate widened when Ari calmly announced: 

 

“Master, please accept this sacrifice.” 

 

Ari raised her hands, grabbing the magistrate’s head, and twisted…

 

With an audible crack, the neck bent into an unnatural position, the spine broken. The man’s face still maintained its surprised expression, frozen in the moment of his demise. 

 

“For Master!” Ari intoned, and let the lifeless body fall to the ground. 

 

Then, she looked down, and pulled out the knife still stuck in her abdomen, blood and pain still unimportant even now, as the voices were stronger than ever, erupting in the storm that threatened to swallow it all. 

 

Ari threw the blade away and laughed.  

 

Two remaining guards still looked at each other and tried to draw their swords, alas it was too late for them to do anything.

 

As the Cat Spirits split the world open, Ari announced to the dying viceroy,

“Your invitation has been accepted.”