The Mook Maker

Ari was a simple girl, alone and astray, lost on a journey she didn’t want, to a destination that didn’t exist, for a purpose she didn’t understand.

 

The purpose wasn’t the only thing that eluded her, there were others. 

 

She has been told that people in distant lands spoke different tongues, and even experienced how people in the valley used to laugh at her own words for being somehow different, somehow wrong, but none of it could prepare her for the language the Spirits spoke. 

 

Ari understood the dialect the local folk spoke, but they had never considered her anything more than the Outlander, weird and out of place.

 

They didn’t know there were places beyond their little world. 

 

Ari couldn’t blame them for the ignorance, she herself hadn’t known before.

 

The true meaning of an Outlander was before her eyes. The way the Spirits spoke was completely alien. 

 

It was different, harsh, without anything she could compare it to, but it was indeed a speech of intelligent beings, driven by the forces beyond mortal ken. 

 

Ari found their speech incomprehensible. 

 

It didn’t mean she didn’t try to decipher their meaning. She didn’t speak much, but she did, however, listen, dutifully. Ari might have not comprehended the words, and she might not have known of her purpose among all that chaos, but she did have a very clear sense of duty. She didn’t forget the oath she had made.

 

The Dark One gestured around, speaking in his strange, bestial tongue. His mannerism would have appeared rude to some, insulting even, but Ari knew better. 

 

Ari was indeed a simple girl, but she wasn’t stupid, even if they had called her that, she thought to herself. 

 

Neither Dark One nor his Spirits bowed nor engaged in any kind of discernible protocol, they were creatures unbound by the dictate of the mortals. They were different, in more ways than their strange forms, but also their minds, unconcerned with the trifling, foolish customs Ari was meticulously taught to follow to not disgrace her household only to be disowned and abandoned regardless of how much effort she put into honouring her father and his trade.

 

Her mind wandered. It was better than it had been before, the haze that drowned her thoughts was gone, yet many things still escaped her grasp. Memories were like snakes, coiling and slippery, difficult to catch, yet still venomous enough to bite. 

She still remembered people. Her family - former family, at least, as she couldn’t bear their name anymore - were people of the common birth but used to craft the robes of the wealthy. 

 

Then, it was gone. Images slithered away like they were the snake in the grass. 

 

Ari never found out what caused her fall from grace, her memories too foggy, seemingly too distant to matter, but she has been cast away. She knew she didn’t have a father since. 

 

She still remembered how she had been driven away from her home, guilty of a misdeed she wasn’t able to recall, yet horrible enough to be forever cast out and forgotten. If only she knew what it was, perhaps she would be full of remorse, but her crime was the snake in the grass, unseen until she stepped on it. Then, it would bite. 

 

Ari had memories of what happened afterwards, she recalled her journey with a group of scared peasants desperately trying to flee the armies that ravaged the lands, and they attempt to cross the mountains to safety, heading to the west, succeeding only to fall victim to the bandits preying on the weak and lost. 

 

Fog left little of her mind unclouded then, but enough to remember the bandits who caught them, and the fate of the women they didn’t kill.

 

Ari would like to forget that forever, but her troubled mind refused to drown those events out as it did with so many others. 

 

She hadn’t been able to do anything when they did horrible things to her as well. Those men had looted the shrine, not afraid of the wrath of the gods. What could a simple girl like Ari have done? 

 

Then, something had changed. Ari had recalled those same bandits being slaughtered to the last man by terrifying beasts from beyond. She remembered how terrified she had been seeing the Dark One, the end of all that was reflected in his dark eyes, all the blood and the death. 

 

There had been other women. She remembered neither the face nor the name. They were all able to get away. Ari remembered stumbling through the woods alone. 

 

There weren’t any snakes this time.

 

Ari was barely able to walk when she reached yet another village in this valley, its inhabitants barely better than the bandits she had escaped only hours earlier, leaving her in the dirt and squalor. Was it two days, or maybe three, she didn’t know for certain. 

 

She had exchanged one torment for another, and the only thing she had wanted back then was for it to end. There was so much sorrow and so much fear. 

 

The strayed girl had prayed to the gods, but the Five Heavenly Dragons didn’t concern themselves with a homeless vagrant, the threads of her fate weaved in a long time ago, doomed her to die alone, in the cold.  

 

So she had prayed to the Dark One - begging for demise to exact the revenge she could not - and he, unlike the gods in the heavens, answered.

 

The priestess of the gods that rejected her burned alive, the men that abused her slain like cattle, the villagers cast away doomed to a life spent on the run, to suffer her fate.

 

And her? She was healed, and she was fed. So she offered her being to the god.

 

Ari, the lost and the damned, had no father and no soul. 

 

And she found out, she didn’t miss either.  

 

Ari listened to the voice of the Dark One. His aura was like an incoming storm, and his eyes glowed with the power of the realms beyond, but it didn’t scare the girl anymore. It was like a guiding light in the darkness, or perhaps guiding darkness in the light instead. She didn’t know, but she, somehow, welcomed it. 

 

The meaning of most of those words eluded her, it was the gestures which spoke more soundly. 

 

There was something comforting about this, the Spirits knew no deceit, despite what she had been once told. The bargain had been struck, the orders were to be followed. 

 

She looked around. 

 

The journey through the other realm had been equally confusing as it had been disorientating, the place beyond the touch of the Cat Spirit wasn’t one for the mortal mind to endure, but the stray girl had regained her bearing soon enough, recognising the vaguely familiar scenery of the mountainous village. 

 

Memories were like snakes peeping out from the reeds. 

 

Ari had been there before. It was the one in which the caravan of refugees stopped in their desperate run west, only to be driven away into the hands of the cruel bandits plaguing those forests ahead. 

 

Sometimes, recollections of the events a long time passed were fuzzy, lost in the constant haze, but bad things, those never went away.

 

They were going to die, yet Ari, the lost and the damned, felt no pity for the men and women. 

 

The girl glanced briefly at the dead bodies scattered around, some torn, others burned, and she couldn’t help herself but giggle - those villagers wouldn’t be throwing the rocks at scared, poor drifters anymore. 

 

She still had those tendencies - even after being healed by the otherworldly powers - but the heavy weight that clouded her mind and body for a long time had been lifted, making her feel much lighter on her feet, and in her thoughts.  

 

Her new lord and master spoke to her again - his words were as incomprehensible as before, the tone of his voice however betrayed a certain impatience, his hand pointing towards the village. 

 

Ari was, once again, puzzled by the gesture of the opened and closed palm placed in front of the Dark One’s mouth, a sign she wasn’t entirely sure what it meant in the context of her sudden displacement.

 

Then, the Dark One and the silver Fox Spirit on his side exchanged a few words, equally alien as those spoken before, but for Ari, it was a moment of sudden inspiration. 

 

She remembered. 

 

When the Dark One answered her prayer, he sent his Fox Spirit to speak for him, but the apprentice priestess, too confident of her treacherous gods, tried to work her magic and paid for her insolence with her life. 

 

Ari understood.

 

Now it was she who was expected to speak for him. 

 

Ari bowed, first to the Dark One, and then to his two wives, and spoke the words in the Spirit tongue she learned. 

 

She didn’t understand the meaning of those two words, but they seemed important. 

 

The Spirits used them quite often. 

 

They represented something important, a message, an untold purpose, and she wanted to repeat those. 

 

Without further talk, she headed towards the settlement. The large Bear Spirit in shining armour let her pass. 

 

Ari slowly headed down the beaten, stony path towards the settlement set on the slope of the mountain under the quarry, hesitating with each step, not because of fear, but uncertainty - she wasn’t, in any way, capable of speaking for the Dark One. 

 

Yet, it was expected from her.

 

The villagers mostly opted to hide in their houses, though a few of them grabbed any tool that could be used as a weapon and banded together for defence.

 

It was futile. She had seen this before. 

If the Dark One wanted, this place would be swept under the tide of his Spirits. 

 

There was a small shrine on the side of the path, a little shelter for tiny statues and offerings, now overturned and shattered.

 

The effigy of the White Celestial Dragon was slightly charred, filling Ami’s mind with inspiration for her new purpose.

 

If the Dark One didn’t desire those villager’s death, he desired their obedience.  

 

However, before she had a chance to perform the traditional, formal greeting she was taught to be appropriate, she was interrupted by an arrow shot by one of the defenders. It had grazed her.

 

“Go away!” One of the villagers shouted, “Outlander!” 

 

“There are Evil Spirits everywhere!” The other yelped.

 

“She is cursed!” The other added, “Witch!” 

 

Ari paused, though not by the threat of another arrow flying in her direction, one which could have a deadlier result. Words suddenly amused her. It has been told that there were witches who poisoned people with the snakes they raised. She was almost certain she heard that somewhere. Her treacherous, unconfused mind provided her as much but refused to elaborate. 

 

The only serpent here was in her weakened mind, devouring her memories like little mice. 

 

It still made her laugh. Ari had no snake.

 

“This one has no snake.” She said, “This one was sent to talk with you by god.” 

 

“She has been possessed!” The other man yelled instead, and two others, armed with bows, prepared to shoot, his hands shaking. They couldn’t decide whether to aim at the Spirits or at her. 

 

Ari could hear the voice of the Dark One somewhere behind her. 

 

One armed villager pulled the bowstring, the other did too…

 

The Spirits worked their magic, some of them spoke the two words. Ari wanted to repeat - two words. They were important, somehow. 

 

The air swivelled around the group of unruly, armed peasants, almost as if the surrounding existence was the fabric squeezed and bent, and there wasn’t there. It was dizzying. She had seen it before.

 

Ari braced herself, preparing for the strike of lightheadedness that came with gazing into the crack into the far realms for the Cat Spirit to squeeze through. The released arrow disappeared into it harmlessly while the archer lost composure, his feet betraying him.

 

The girl prepared to speak for the Dark One, but the words didn’t come out. 

 

The spirits had terrified and confused the mob and made them shout at each other, and at Ari, none of it articulate enough for the lost girl to understand. Two of them stumbled and fell, some others struggled to stand almost as drunk, while another one tried to flee through the shifting air. 

 

It swallowed him as the water swallowed a stone, and only his dying scream of agony echoed around as he plummeted down the cliff until it too, died off. 

 

“This one was sent to talk,” Ari finally said, her voice drowned in the noise. 

 

There were more screams, more confusion, and another hapless man staggering towards the spot where the Spirit’s rift bent the surroundings. He stopped before he could also disappear into nothingness. 

 

Ari expected everything to be swept away by the fire. 

 

It wasn’t. 

 

A few more people sneaked out of the huts they hid in, stumbled and ran through the terraced fields. No one pursued them. 

 

Ari understood. 

 

She used to be on the run, lost and abandoned, without a home, and without a purpose, a thread of her fate running out somewhere under an overturned tree, abandoned by the gods above and mortals around, until she made a last promise she couldn’t break.

 

Bound to a higher power, she still felt free - the Spirits didn’t care for the customs of her people, nor desired her body. 

 

Ari laughed again.

 

“There is no need to fight anymore!” She shouted over the chaos.

 

In the doorway of the one house, a woman appeared. She threw a rock.

 

It wasn’t the first time someone threw a rock at Ari, and just like before, this one didn’t miss either. It had always hurt. Her head jerked from the impact, and she took a glimpse of that little broken shrine.

 

“Surrender your souls to the service of my god and live, or run forever!” Ari exclaimed, spreading her hands.  

She touched her forehead, looking at the smear of blood on her fingers. Her head rang, but the pain was more of an afterthought than a threat that loomed over her.

 

More villagers gathered their courage as the magic wavered. The gaps between the realms couldn’t wait for the Cat Spirit to pass. 

 

Ari could hear the voice of the Dark One. 

 

Perhaps, it was a test, she thought. She would not waver, she repeated to herself. She would not run. 

 

“This one is not afraid! Bow before my god!” Ari cried, but no one heard her. 

 

Another stone flew, and tools were raised, as peasants shouted encouragement. One tried to run at her with a farming hoe in his hand. 

 

He died in flames. 

 

A stone hit Ari, but the one who threw it didn’t get to live much longer.

 

“Join. Or die! Join or die!” 

 

The angry shouts soon mixed with the screams of terror as the Wolf Spirits appeared from the shadows, ripping and tearing, and the others charged into the fray. 

 

Ari watched and couldn’t help herself to giggle along with the Fox Spirits as the peasants were subdued.

 

The lost girl wanted to shout the words with them. 

 

She still almost absentmindedly checked her bruise with her fingers. It bled. 

 

Ari’s mind wandered again, trying to remember when last she was pelted with stones, the vague recollection of her father's angry voice came up instead. She still wasn’t sure what her father had said back then, all events too blurry, with her being cast away, chased. The serpent in her head swallowed the image. 

 

The wound throbbed, and then, it didn’t.

 

It was gone.

 

Ari’s troubled mind regained its focus in one, sudden instant, and she jolted from the sensation, almost like touching a hot kettle and flinching away from the burn. Except, it was her body which burned, and then, it didn’t. 

 

When the girl once lost and damned looked around, the villagers that tried to hit her were all subdued by the Dark One’s spirit. 

 

The Rat Spirit was there. She recalled her, it was the one with the power of both healing and pain, but they were separated when the Cats dragged her through the crack in the world. Perhaps she too had to walk the void where up was down.  

 

Ari’s eyes gazed into the red ones of the Spirit, then understood she was, perhaps, insolent in this. The Spirits didn’t care for the customs of men, and neither should Ari, sworn to the Dark One, but she didn’t know any other way. The girl lowered her head.  

 

“Madame Narita, this one apologizes. This one is grateful.” Ari spoke, in a hushed tone. It was interrupted, the peasants didn’t know how to behave it seemed. 

 

Then the Dark One spoke. His words were indescribable, but his intent was more clear than before. His aura flared.  

 

Ari turned to him, followed with the proper obeisance.

 

“My lord, this one will do her work now.” She expressed, suddenly filling the energy, and turned towards the subdued humans.

 

A few of them struggled, futilely.

 

Fools.

 

She approached them, this time without the guise of the more proper behaviour - the humans didn’t deserve it. 

 

“You can run forever as I did, or you die here.” She said, her words quite not as meek as they were supposed to be, “Or you can offer your souls to my god, and serve him.” 

 

One man still tried to protest but was very quickly silenced.

 

Ari was certain that the next words were to spare the insolent man, confirming her assumptions about her task here. 

 

“Join and live.” She told him.  

 

The few Spirits spoke the words. Ari repeated them. They seemed right. 

 

“For Master.”