After the terrible events and harrowing adventures we had to endure in Riverheim, my companion and I fled southwest, choosing any path at random. We use the means of displacement that were presented to us; barges, cars or carts. And we turned to feet when all else failed.
Those were hard times and I felt scared. It seemed that at every turn we were in danger of being arrested for imprisonment or execution. He saw bailiffs in every tavern and hit men behind every bush. If the Dark Hero suspected that things might be different, he never bothered to inform me of it.
For someone as ignorant of the true state of the Kaleth Empire's legal system as I was at the time, it seemed likely that the entire apparatus of that powerful and sprawling government was bent on apprehending a runaway slave such as myself; for this reason I begged my companion, the dark hero, to move away from the border of the empire.
At that time, I had no idea of the weak and random way in which the mandates of the law were applied in human nations. Actually, it was a real shame that all those bailiffs and hired killers that populated my mind did not exist in fact... because if they had been a reality, perhaps evil would not have thrived so strongly in the confines of the human nations that populated that place.
The extent and nature of that evil was to become very apparent to me in an ominous twilight after we stepped off a barge heading southeast.
Unbeknownst to me at the time, that night would be the beginning of my adventures with Frey, the dark hero...
They say that the world is made of things, I think that the world is made of stories.
Elysia, 'The Adventures of the Dark Hero', Vol. I,
Printed in Riverheim, Arcadia.
♦ ♦ ♦
"Damn all the sailors in this country and their damn women" muttered Frey, a man with a height of just over two meters. He was equipped with an imposing armor of black plates with silver details, from his neck fluttered an immaculate crimson cape that moved slowly due to the night wind, and on his back was a great sword almost as big as he was.
Before continuing to walk, Frey uttered an additional curse in a language Elysia didn't know, but which according to Frey was called Vanir.
"Is it necessary to insult his wives too?" Elysia asked sullenly. "The way things are, we've been lucky they didn't shoot us, if you can call it luck being left lying on the river bank in the middle of the night.
Elysia was a not very tall girl, with luck she reached 1.70 tall. She wore comfortable traveling clothes along with a thick cloak to ward off the cold and hide the peculiarities of her race. Elysia was a Cat-kin, a hybrid half Catfolk and half human, therefore she had some characteristics that betrayed her race; as were adorable cat ears, eyes with feline-like vertical pupils, curiously dangerous teeth, abnormally sharp fingernails, and a long, fluffy tail of black fur.
"We had paid our ticket; we had as much right as that pompous nobleman to sit inside the passenger cabin. Sailors were effeminate cowards with no balls between their legs," Frey grumbled. "They refused to meet me face to face. I wouldn't have minded if they tried to kill me with their own abilities, but being shot in the face with a naval cannon is not a dignified and honorable death."
Elysia shook her head. She realized that she was about to experience one of the blackest moods of her partner. There would be no way to reasonably argue with Frey, and she had tons of other things to worry about. The sun was setting and she cast a reddish hue on the mist-shrouded woods. The shadows danced ominously, bringing to mind too many terrifying tales of the horrors to be found under the treetops and deep in the woods.
Elysia wiped her nose on the edge of her cloak. She sniffed and raised her eyes to the sky, where the beautiful moon was already visible. The moon seemed to cast a silvery glow in a sky with no nine in sight. The fur on her tail stood on end and a shiver ran down her spine, this was not a good sign. Her instincts told her that something bad would happen tonight.
After what happened to her in the sewer system in Riverheim. Elysia began to trust her instincts more.
"I think I'm about to have a fever," Elysia commented.
The dark hero looked down at her and chuckled disdainfully. Under the effect of the last rays of the dying sun, Frey's armor shone with a dark crimson hue which looked like coagulated blood.
"You are weak Elysia, you lack street." Frei said. "The only fever I feel tonight is the fever of battle. I notice that it sings inside the head."
She turned and glared into the darkness of the forest.
"Come out, you little beastmen!" she howled. "I have a present for you."
She gave a hearty laugh, cocked his huge sword and ran a thumb along the edge of the blade of his huge two-handed sword. Elysia saw that the finger released small sparks due to the friction between the edge of the weapon and the gauntlet that Frey possessed.
"May the gods protect us! Shut up," Elysia hissed at him. "Who knows what lurks out there on a night like this?"
Frey glared at her, and Elysia saw a flash of insane violence appear in his eyes. Instinctively, Elysia's hand moved until it was close to the hilt of her recently purchased longsword.
"Don't give me orders, cat girl! I belong to an ancient race, and I only take orders from the true king of this world."
Elysia bowed formally. She was well trained in the use of the formal etiquette of the nobility. A life as a slave to a noble girl of the Empire had its benefits. But that was her past; after she kills her owner using a dagger to stab her multiple times and escape her captivity, she was free from her.
After meeting Frey in Riverheim, and forming a close relationship with him, Elysia progressively improved her combat abilities.
However, she did not like the idea of fighting someone at the level of a hero. Elysia's head barely reached Frey's chest, he was heavier than her, and her body was all muscle. Furthermore, she had seen how Frey used that huge sword.
The Frey took the bow as an apology, and turned once more into the darkness.
"Come out beastmen!" Frey shouted. "I don't care if all the powers of evil roam the forest at night. I'll meet any challenge."
Frey's words caused Elysia to blush and caused her tail to start wagging restlessly. Using the recent 'event' that happened between Elysia and Frey as a method of provoking her was extremely embarrassing for her.
Frey's fiery mood bordered on her fury. Ever since she had known him, Elysia had noticed that the dark hero's long periods of melancholy were often followed by short bursts of anger. It was one of the things that fascinated her about her mate. She knew Frey didn't mind going down the road of death, he seemed to enjoy unequal combat, and though he seemed bitter to the point of insanity, she stayed true to his goals.
At the moment, however, the dark hero seemed determined to get them both killed, and she wanted no part of his plans. She continued to plod along while casting a few worried glances at the bright full moon. Behind her, Frey kept shouting threats, taunts, insults, and curses.
"Is there no warrior among you? Come feel the caress of my sword. my dear Lævateinn is hungry!"
Elysia decided that only a madman would so tempt fate and the Dark Powers on a supernatural night like Nightmarefest, in the darkest reaches of the forest.
She heard a hum in the stony, guttural language used by the Norsemen, then heard a voice in human language.
"Send me a champion or any of his heroes! I'll fuck them all and eat them with potatoes!"
For a second there was silence. The condensation from the mist had dampened Elysia's forehead. Suddenly, from far, far away, the sound of galloping horses pierced the night.
"What has this maniac done?" Elysia thought. "Could he have offended one of the ancient powers that was listening to him? Has a dark god or dark lord sent their demon riders to eliminate us?"
Elysia turned off the road, and she shivered as wet leaves brushed her face, for she had the touch of the fingers of the dead. The thunder of the hooves of the horses approached, advancing at a hellish speed along the forest path. Surely only a supernatural being could maintain such breakneck speed on the winding path. Drawing her sword, she felt her hand tremble.
"I have been a fool to follow Frey" she said to herself. She could hear the neighing of horses, the crack of a whip, and the turning of colossal wheels.
"Good!" Frey roared, his voice coming through the air from the path she had left behind her. "Good!"
There was a mighty bellow, and four immense pitch-black horses, pulling an equally black carriage, passed by with lightning speed. Elysia saw the wheels bounce as they passed over a root sticking out of the path, and she could just make out a coachman cloaked in black. She backed away and crouched down in the bushes.
She heard the sound of approaching feet, and something pushed the bushes aside. Before him was Frey, whose appearance seemed more insane and wild than ever. His armor was stained with mud and his crimson cloak was dirty due to the mud.
"Those insolents have tried to run over me!" she shrieked. "Let's go after them!"
She turned and ran down the muddy path at a brisk trot. Elysia noticed that Frey was singing happily.