Warning! The chapter contains violence against men! And on women too! Content may be disturbing. You have been warned!
Peril Harbor
Three days had passed when the operations began. Ellar officially moved into the house of his new brothers, who had space for him. He did so at the urging of Marik, who wanted there to be a third person to look after the children.
For some reason, Marik had refused to sit at home any longer and had quickly run away every morning to do Liege knows what. Ellar felt that this was a rather irresponsible attitude towards the children but said nothing because he was happy to leave his dirty little room.
"Uncle Ellar, where should I put this one?" Leo asked, holding a picture that was as big as he was but didn't wobble under his weight.
"Where's this one?" Dali repeated after her older brother, also helpfully holding a smaller painting.
Ellar looked at the children. Due to the fact that Marik had run off again that morning and Hellcage had said he also had duties, only Ellar remained. But he was opening a new shop, so he also needed to be out as well.
There was no choice but to take the children with him. In the end, the quiet children turned out to be quite obedient and willingly helped him set up the paintings.
Ellar started working on his task right away. Therefore, he used most of the money he had gotten from his act of revenge and rented a small shop in the East Central part of the city. This was no longer the Lower District. The quality of life here was completely different, and Ellar could see, just by looking at the streets, that the divide between the low and middle class was like heaven and earth.
People were better dressed, and they looked healthier too. The streets were cleaner, and most of the shops had moved from stalls to actual buildings. He had never been to the Upper City, but with the difference he could see now, he assumed the houses there were made of stone, and there was as much gold on the ground as rat poop in the Lower District.
"Thank you, Leo and Dali. The big one will go on the wall next door. Put the small one on the counter," he instructed the children, and they immediately went to do as he said.
Ellar looked at the blank wall just behind the counter and considered which of his paintings to put there to make the greatest possible impression when he entered the shop.
He placed a bit of importance on it because he wasn't renting this place for nothing. The East Central part of the city was part of the Midnight Queen's territory, and her residence was located here. If Ellar went out into the street, he could see the masts of the huge *Galleon in the distance, which had become the home of the Midnight Queen.
The galleon was built stern up into the city so that it looked like a sinking ship and was painted all in midnight blue so that no one would have any doubt about who owned the place.
The Galleon was called the **Buccaneer, and it was the most prestigious bar in the whole city. The lower part had been converted into a cabaret with a bar, and it was also the only place where you could enjoy a limited type of alcohol called Night Star, which was supposedly mild and more suited to women, and its counterpart, Pranir, which was again strong and spicy, suiting a more masculine palate.
It was interesting to note that the place was not associated with any prostitution. Probably the Midnight Queen didn't want to give Baron Niche any major benefits.
The upper floors of the Buccaneer were then furnished as the personal residence of the reclusive Midnight Queen, who reportedly enjoyed the view of the sea.
Ellar had chosen the place to open his shop precisely to increase his chances of getting close to the Midnight Queen. His shop was close enough, but at the same time not too close to make his intentions obvious.
"There's a murderous intent," Ellar heard Leo's voice.
"Yes, murderous," Dali repeated.
Ellar looked back and saw the children standing by one of the wrapped paintings. "What did you say?" He asked, walking over to them.
Leo raised his face to him and pointed to the wrapped painting. "It has murderous intent. It's a little interesting."
"Yes, a little interesting," Dali nodded in agreement, looking at the wrapped painting. Even though the kids were interested, they didn't tear the wrapper off to look at it.
Ellar grabbed the frame of the painting and looked at the mark he had placed on it earlier. "Ah. This one," he said and then took the wrapper off of it so the children could see it.
The painting wasn't particularly special in composition, but looking at it gave one a faint feeling of distress. The painting was of Ellar himself in a wheelchair. He was sitting with his back to the dock, looking out over the Endless Sea with the moon shining over it, and everything bearing a greenish poisonous color.
It was an ordinary, peaceful scene, yet it gave one a strange feeling. "I drew this at a time when I thought it was a new beginning for me, that I could finally turn the page and feel some peace. In the end, it turned out to be an illusion," Ellar explained to the children, looking at the painting.
"In the end, it was not the moment of peace I had hoped for. It has only come now." Ellar looked at the painting, frowning slightly, and then his eyes flashed with a blue flame.
When he looked at the painting again, his lips curled upward, but his smile, along with the flames in his eyes, was eerie. "Haha... you're been there the whole time?" He asked while turning around and walking to the counter, the painting hung on the blank wall.
Leo and Dali followed him, looking at the painting curiously. Ellar's hand flared blue and touched the painting, then his hand clenched into a fist and made a motion as if he was pulling something out.
The air between Ellar's hand and the painting thickened, and a transparent indistinct figure appeared. His head and neck flattened and stretched as he was pulled by Ellar's force, and he leaned his body out of the painting, desperately holding onto the frame as he struggled.
"Now I've truly turned over a new leaf," Ellar said with a sinister smile on his face as the past came back to him.
*****
Ellar was in his early twenties ten years ago when he had an accident and lost both his legs. His life changed completely; he lost his job at the marina, and at such a young age, he had almost no savings. However, he still had his sweet fiancée, Jinne.
"Don't worry, Ellar. We'll get through this together. Eventually, we'll save up enough money to get you artificial legs, and everything will be fine," Jinne said, offering words of encouragement while touching his arm.
Ellar smiled at her, crossing his hand over hers and squeezing it. "With you? How could I be worried?" He laughed, not envisioning such a bleak future.
"For now, I have to figure out a way to make money. I've thought about it a lot, but I don't have much talent besides physical labor, except for one thing—painting. I could try and sell portraits of people, pets, or whatever people want," Ellar explained to his fiancée, showing her a few of the experiments he had done so far.
Jinne looked at them. "They look really nice, Ellar. But... do you think you can actually make any money doing this?" Jinne tried to be encouraging but couldn't dispel her doubts. This was Peril Harbor, after all, not known for its artists or art lovers.
Ellar smiled a little awkwardly. "Probably not right away, but I'll get better. Sorry, love, but I don't have many options," Ellar apologized, knowing Jinne was worried about their future. She wanted to get married and start a family.
Jinne looked guilty and immediately took Ellar's hand. "Of course. Of course. I'm sure it'll be fine."
A year later, they stood in the same room, but their attitudes couldn't have been further from what they had been before. "Ellar. I'm sorry. But I can't take it anymore. I... I really love you, but I don't see a future for us anymore."
Ellar appeared more neglected, and his earlier vigor had faded. He looked like a broken man. "You said we'd get through this together," he said quietly.
Jinne turned her face away from him and let out a long sigh. "They say you can't balance love with money, but only those who have never been in that situation say that. Love doesn't fill our stomachs, doesn't put a roof over our heads. And there's no betterment on the horizon, Ellar. If we had children, they'd probably starve to death. I can't bear it any longer. I just can't."
Jinne tied her hat on her head, then picked up her suitcase from the ground. "I'm sorry, Ellar. I need to... start taking care of myself, too. I'm going back to my parents. It's over." Jinne made her way to the door where she hesitated once, but then stepped out and closed the door quietly behind her again.
Ellar stared at the closed door in a daze for a moment before his hand covered his eyes, and his shoulders began to shake slightly.
"How could I blame you?" He said quietly to the closed door.
Or so he thought until he received the devastating news a few months later. Jinne was to be married, and to none other than Ellar's best friend, Philip, who had worked with him at the port and had been present at his accident.
Ellar had always suspected that Philip liked Jinne, but it never occurred to him that things could turn out this way.
Another month later, Ellar was hiding outside the small temple of the God of Steam, watching the two being married. He took his eyes off them for a moment when suddenly a Slik landed on his lap. A random passerby had mistaken him for a homeless man, and he was probably in a good mood, so he wanted to improve his karma and gift the less fortunate.
It was no wonder Ellar was mistaken for a homeless man. He was unkempt, dirty, with a sunken face, and in a wheelchair. But the casual passerby was not far from the truth. Ellar didn't think about it and pocketed the Slik, fixing his tired eyes on the newlyweds again. An uncomfortable feeling rose in his heart.
Ellar somehow survived, occasionally selling one of his paintings, and because of that, he always had renewed hope that this was the moment when things would get better, that people would start to notice his work, only to fall back into another cycle of failure.
In the end, he had no choice but to find a more modest place to live. He was spending his last days in his old home when an unexpected visitor arrived.
Jinne appeared at his door, as pretty as ever, this time wearing decent clothes that almost matched those worn by the middle class. But her expression was such that he almost wouldn't recognize her.
"Why do you keep bothering my parents?" Jinne asked with a disdainful expression instead of a greeting, walking into the half-empty room.
"Your parents? I'm not bothering them. They come by to see me sometimes. We've always had a good relationship," Ellar replied in confusion, but inside, he felt a little happy that Jinne had come.
Jinne looked around and frowned before turning to Ellar. "They just feel sorry for you. You ended up being a pathetic cripple." Her words were harsh and cruel, and Ellar didn't understand where the anger came from.
"Why did you come, Jinne?" Ellar chose not to answer, preferring instead to ask why she had come at all. To insult him? Why?
"I want you to stop sucking my parents like some kind of leech!" Jinne shouted.
What little flame of joy had been extinguished in Ellar's heart began to emerge instead. "I don't. I told them they didn't have to come. They're doing it anyway," he replied, frowning, but then let out a breath to calm himself. "Why are you angry? Why does it bother you?"
Jinne raised her head arrogantly. "It annoys me that they're cutting away from my heritage to give it to a loser like you!"
Ellar was frankly stunned at that moment. Her parents would see him once a month or so, occasionally bringing something to eat, sometimes leaving a few Slikes, and Ellar was grateful for that, but he didn't feel it was something to get so angry about.
"You're overreacting, Jinne," Ellar rubbed his tired eyes. Why was she like this? He had always regretted not being able to marry her, but now he was even beginning to be grateful. Was she hiding her true nature?
"You! Stop associating with my parents!" Jinne raised her voice.
"They come to me all by themselves! What am I supposed to do?" Ellar was beginning to lose patience with her.
"Throw them out! Act dirty and repel them!"
Ellar shook his head. "I won't do that."
Jinne suddenly raised her hand and slapped Ellar until his head turned. He blinked in surprise.
"They keep comparing you to Philip!" She exclaimed, and struck again.
Slap
"They say I made the wrong choice and that despite being a cripple you would make a better husband and son-in-law!"
Slap
"They're my parents! How can they say that to their own daughter about her husband?"
Slap
"You're a fucking failure! A cripple with no future! At best you'll die quickly when you're killed by those you owe money to, at worst you'll starve to death! How is a miserable bastard like you any better!?"
This time Ellar caught her hand that was about to strike him again and glared at her in flaming rage. "Stop it. Right. Now."
Jinne was breathing heavily, her cheeks flushed with exertion. "Or what? What can you do?" she taunted him. She wrenched her hand from his grasp and walked behind him. "You're a cripple with no legs. You're helpless." She grabbed his chair, and though she had to put a lot of strength into it, she managed to tip the wheelchair over, and Ellar fell to the floor.
"You! What are you doing?" Ellar was already furious too and reached for the wheelchair, but Jinne pushed him away so he would have to crawl to get to it, but Ellar didn't want to humiliate himself enough to crawl on the ground in front of her.
"See? You can't do anything without that thing." Jinne seemed content with Ellar lying on the ground and looking up at her.
Ellar had wondered before what had changed her so much, now he didn't care. He had no idea that lingering feelings could be so thoroughly torn apart in a matter of moments.
Ellar covered his head with his arms when Jinne suddenly kicked him, and then again. His anger was growing, and Ellar was no longer trying to fight back. His life was already hard; how could he accept being beaten and humiliated by the woman he had once wanted to spend his life with and start a family with? How much lower could he sink?
And it turned out he could sink to the lowest depths.
Ellar may have been legless, but his arms had gotten a lot stronger in the time he'd been in the wheelchair. It wasn't easy to get the wheelchair and his body where he needed it to go, so even though the loose shirt hid it, his arms were quite muscular.
When Jinne tried to kick him again, he grabbed her foot and jerked her around. She fell to the ground with a yelp, but before she could get up, Ellar was on top of her, his face contorted with rage, grabbing her by the throat with both hands.
Jinne glared at him, the rage and anger gone from her eyes, replaced by fear. She grabbed his hands and tried to pull them away, but Ellar didn't let go and squeezed her neck with all the force he could exert in his moment of rage.
Crack
Jinne went limp, and the light went out of her eyes. In an instant, she simply disappeared. Ellar didn't realize it right away in his shock, but when enough air entered his brain, he finally understood what had happened and what he had done.
"Shit!" He shouted, pulling away from her as fast as he could. It was another few moments before he was able to do anything more than stare.
"No. No. Nononono! What did I do?" He crawled over to the lifeless Jinne and grabbed her face in his hands, shaking her.
"No! Jinne! You can't... no... what did I do?" Ellar panicked. Jinne had been cruel, unreasonable, and had angered him a lot, but he never wanted to kill her. He never thought he was that kind of person.
Seeing that there was nothing more he could do, Ellar ran his hand through his hair. "Fuck. Fuck."
He secretly disposed of the body that very night. He wasn't afraid of the hand of the law; this was Peril Harbor. Unless you cleaned up after yourself or paid someone to find the culprit, people didn't care much.
Still, Jinne had a husband and parents who cared for her. Confess? That never even crossed his mind.
Three days passed, and nothing happened. Ellar had moved into a one-room home and was an even bigger mess than before. Just because he kept what he'd done a secret didn't mean he didn't feel remorse and suffer from his own actions.
He was constantly questioning his conscience or trying to justify himself.
"I didn't do it on purpose. No... no... she provoked me to do it. She came to bully and humiliate me, she also beat me. That can't leave anyone calm, can it? Yes, that's right. It's her fault. Her fault." He muttered darkly to himself in his room, trying to find solace in prayers to his god, seeking forgiveness, but it brought him little comfort.
On the fifth day, Philip appeared, and Ellar nearly had a heart attack. He was beginning to think they had figured him out, and Philip had come to kill him.
In the end, it was different.
"Ellar, my friend. Have you seen Jinne? You know, my wife? She's been missing for four days," Philip asked, but for someone missing his wife, he seemed relatively calm.
Ellar clenched his trembling hands into fists. "No. I haven't seen her," he denied.
Philip sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I had a hunch. But I had to try to ask. Her parents are pretty mad," he said.
Ellar averted his eyes. "That... I can understand that. They're worried about her," he nodded, mentally apologizing to her parents.
"They do. Hey, Ellar. How about we go get a drink? Just like old times, huh?" He looked around the room. "I'm paying," he added.
He had no desire to go drinking, especially with the husband of the woman he'd killed. But Philip wasn't going to be deterred, and Ellar, mentally exhausted, didn't have the strength to resist for long, so they ended up in a nearby bar where they started drinking. Ellar, out of desperation, and for who knows what reason also Philip.
Philip wasn't a good drinker, and the alcohol quickly went to his head. Ellar never minded; Philip said many things when he was drunk that he even didn't know he knew. Unfortunately, today was no different.
Ellar hadn't listened to Philip for a while, instead, he watched the world through the bottom of his alcohol until he heard something that caught his attention.
"You should have died, you bastard, you know that?" Philip slurred his words as he was drunk and couldn't articulate properly.
"What?" Ellar was a little drunk as well, though much less so than Philip.
"You were supposed to die in an accident," Philip grimaced and pointed a finger at Ellar.
Ellar stared at him, the feeling he had when he watched Philip and Jinne's wedding was returned. It was suspicion.
"What do you mean?"
Philip took a sip and burped before squinting his eyes at Ellar. "You... I really hated you. I really did. You were always so... hic... positive, hardworking, and so damn honest! And you had such a hot chick for a girlfriend! Hic... What about me? Jinne, I really liked her, man, man... hic... but you had her. Of course you did. You son of a bitch!" He drank rapidly until he coughed.
Ellar listened to him, his chest tightening in anticipation of something he had only suspected for a moment before.
"And then I was like... man... I was like... what if you weren't? Heh? Jinne was always nice to me... you know... I knew... I knew if you weren't in the way, she'd be mine."
Ellar's eyes went cold, and he sobered up immediately. His hand clenched tightly around his drink as he continued to stare at Philip, who was drunkenly revealing his secrets.
"What did you do?" Ellar asked quietly.
"Muhaha! I wonder what? Hic! That stupid accident! Man, you should have... seen the look on your face! But of course, it didn't go as planned! In the end, you're a... hic... a damn lucky guy, and you just lost your legs! I missed my chance. Hehe... or so I thought."
Ellar lowered his head slightly, with the hair from his forehead covering his eyes, but he didn't take his eyes off Philip. He stared at him with terror in his eyes.
"Thought? What happened?" Ellar pressed him further.
"Hehehe... hahaha... I knew how hard you'd have it now. Especially with Jinne. It was easy to put on... a sympathetic and understanding face. It hadn't even been a year, and she was crawling up to me... haha... and crying on my shoulder. You know... one thing led to another... hehe... she cheated on you! Ha! She wasn't even done with you, and we were already making out!" Philip laughed and slapped his palm on the table a few times.
"Best fuck ever!"
Ellar shuddered and almost jumped on him, wanting to kill Philip. This time, it was deliberate, but he held back.
Philip, however, suddenly fell silent and let out a long breath. "After the wedding... it wasn't so good. Her parents were really annoying and kept messing with her head with some bullshit. And then during... hic... one argument, we had a fight, and what did she do? She compared me to you! To a cripple! So I got mad... so I hit her... Damn... I know I messed up, you know?"
Philip took another sip of his drink. "And then it went... completely to hell. Every time we fought, she'd look at me... hic... with that look, and I knew... I knew she was comparing me to you again! And I couldn't hold back... and hit her again..."
Ellar felt his soul leave his body when he heard that. His hands trembled so much that he had to hide them in his lap and squeeze the crumpled fabric on the stumps of his legs.
Ellar wished he hadn't been a part of this horrible, twisted, tragic story.
"I see," Ellar said quietly.
*****
Philip was awakened by a strange sensation of wetness. He slowly opened his eyes and immediately jerked in surprise.
"Hmpf!" he exclaimed through the gag. His body was bound and hanging from a hook under the pier, submerged in saltwater up to his neck. All he could see in front of him was the wide sea and the wooden pier above his head.
"You're awake," he heard a voice and looked up. From the edge of the pier, he could see Ellar's face.
"Hmph! Hmf!" shouted Philip through the gag.
"Scream all you want. This is a rather deserted part of the harbor. No one will hear the humming," Ellar told him in a calm and steady voice.
"Ah... man. Do you know how hard it was to get you here and hang you like a piece of overgrown meat? For a guy with no legs, it was quite a feat. Good thing you're such a hard sleeper when you get drunk," Ellar chatted with him as if nothing special was going on.
"When you told me about how you were going to murder me, I was really shocked. And then that you seduced Jinne. And then how you beat her. Seriously... you're the best actor in the world, Philip. Your only problem is that you talk too much when you drink. You'd probably go through life like nothing if it weren't for that little problem," Ellar said. He straightened up, disappearing from Philip's sight, who was making even more frantic noises.
"Take it easy, Philip. I won't leave you. I'll wait here with you for the sea to rise. Little by little, as the water level rises, until it covers you completely. And then I'll listen to you drown," Ellar paused and made himself comfortable while he watched the moon over the surface of the sea.
"You wanted to know where Jinne was. I buried her in the sea."
"HMPF!!!"
*****
Ellar returned to the present, keeping his mind focused on the task at hand. He painted the picture right after completing the piece, feeling sick in every way. Strangely enough, he felt better after finishing the painting.
He didn't dwell on it much at the time. After a while, he started pretending that nothing had ever happened, sometimes even convincing himself of it, and went on with his life as usual.
A few years passed, and at one point, he remembered everything and attempted to take his own life. It seemed like the world didn't want him dead, or perhaps he lacked the courage to end his life properly.
After receiving his Liege's blessing, it was as if things fell into place. He didn't try to forget; he simply accepted it. He did what he did. He wasn't without a conscience. He regretted Jinne's death, who had turned to him in desperation in her marriage, possibly thinking Ellar would never hurt her, especially when he was in a wheelchair. She had taken out her anger and perhaps regret at not staying with him. In the end, they were both victims of one egotistical bastard.
But he didn't regret Philip's death one bit, and he didn't regret Sinclair's death either. And so Ellar realized who he really was. He was a murderer, and he was fine with that.
Ellar looked at the struggling ghost in his hands. "Philip, it's good to see you again. You showed up at the right time. I was thinking of a gift to give to our Liege," he told him, looking at the children who were watching everything without fear.
"Do you think our goddess will like it?" he asked them.
Dali and Leo looked at the wriggling ghost, who was roaring soundlessly. "Probably," Leo replied.
"I think she likes rabbits better," Dali added.
*****
Island Edge of the End
Caspian and his ship, along with the crew, remained at the unknown island. Caspian eventually named it "Edge of the End," inspired by the village in his dream.
A few days passed, and everyone started to recover. Those who had been ill before took longer to recover, but they were no longer in danger of death.
Caspian never allowed anyone to go ashore; he was the only one who came ashore to hunt and forage for food, and then they always moved away from the island for the night. His fear was rooted in the stone with the face with blue eyes. He noticed that every morning the position of the stone changed. The stone with the face never set foot on the narrow strip of beach but remained on the edge of the forest.
Caspian even tried changing the location of their boat, but even though the statue didn't immediately appear in their direction, it still headed toward them. It did not move during the day, but only at night. That was the reason he didn't dare to stay on the island overnight.
In addition to this strange stone, he also had the dream reappear every night. It repeated over and over again, and although the appearance of the giant face in the sky was still impressive, it no longer held that moment of terror and suspense for him. The only thing that changed was the red woman.
The red flower gradually became sharper with each dream, and her appearance became clearer. Eventually, her form settled on a woman completely covered in a red cloak that flowed down her body like running blood, her face hidden. She didn't speak to him much, sometimes answering his questions and other times simply remaining silent.
After a while, however, he noticed a strange thing. The dream was getting shorter.
The next night, after noticing this, he decided to ask Red. She was standing in front of the statue again, looking up. Caspian approached her. "Why is the dream getting shorter?" He asked directly.
Red answered after a moment. "You're adapting. This land has a special energy. Until now, the only one who has seen the dream is me." She turned her head in his direction. "The locals don't know about it. They were born here. They dream in their mother's womb. They can't remember it, and then when they're old enough, they've gotten used to the energy of the island."
Caspian understood what she was saying. It meant that in time, he would grow accustomed to it, and the dream won't repeat anymore.
"Why are you the only one who sees the dream?" He wondered. The dream wasn't that long, so he didn't wanted to delay and get as much information as possible.
"Too much blood has flowed through my veins," Red replied but didn't say more, and Caspian didn't question. He had already found that urging her on wasn't working. However, he wondered if she didn't want to talk or if she couldn't.
"My crew is recovering. They will want to go to solid ground. How dangerous is the island?" He asked.
"It's not dangerous. But don't enter the villages. If you do, you will be cursed," Red warned him darkly.
That got Caspian's attention. "Cursed? What kind of curse is that? Who cursed the village?"
Red turned to Caspian with her whole body. "Bloody Knee."
Caspian was confused by this. "Bloody... what?"
Red remained silent, as if she didn't want to repeat the name again. "If you enter the village, you will be cursed. You will become a feast."
Caspian's face darkened. "Is he an Evil God?" He asked, despite Caspian revealing the true face of his own god; he still had no doubt about the Evil Gods.
"An Evil God? No. An evil spirit. A powerful one," she replied, looking up as the moment when the face of the mighty goddess was about to be revealed repeated itself again.
Though Caspian had gotten used to it by now, he still raised his head to watch as well.
"I can help," he offered. "I'm pretty strong too."
"You will die," Red replied.
After awakening from his sleep, Caspian looked towards the shore. The stone with the face had moved again. Red had said that the island was not dangerous, and he had no sense of danger from it, but he still doubted her words.
"Bloody Knee..." He muttered to himself, pulling his beard thoughtfully. Red was covered in blood; could she be Bloody Knee after all? Maybe she was just trying to discourage him from discovering and defeating her. Perhaps she couldn't handle him, so she was trying to manipulate him like this?
The more he thought about it, the more it made sense to him. Red is Bloody Knee and doesn't want him to save the local poor souls from her tyranny.
Caspian is too good a man for his own good.