"Please, let me die underneath the stars."
-Heard by a mother on number 1539.
Coras made his way down a barren hill and looked forward. Several miles ahead was an abandoned fortress. Allah Porteli was its name.
The fortress had fallen around one-thousand years ago, and if Coras could remember right, the name directly translated to: God's gate. It was a fitting name for when it stood—armies nor natural disasters had been able to take it down.
The histories spoke of the time volcanic magma had once attempted to destroy it, but had instead fortified it.
That being the case, Coras hadn't understood when he returned to find the place in rubble centuries ago. Though it had once been his home, he no longer had a connection with it, and hadn't cared for its downfall.
But he had researched what had happened, if only to understand the force that claimed victory over it. He had originally thought Nearie to be the cause, but found himself to be wrong when he learned it to be the Silcureuss guards doing.
Before, he had admitted that they would probably have given him trouble. And he was right. But after fighting them in person, seeing their abilities, he had confirmed they had not only been strong enough. But was far beyond the strength that was required.
The one dressed in red would especially be a problem in the future. It was to his knowledge that Elves grew more powerful the longer they lived.
If he'd taken down the fortress a thousand years ago, and Coras judged based on his looks. He would say that the elf had been around his fifteenth century.
But by the time that elf reached his eighteenth century, Coras doubted he would be able to win another bout.
When he had connected those dots, he found it to be a waste that he formed a hostile relationship with them. Though he doubted they would have helped him in his cause, the possibility had been there nonetheless.
Eventually, Coras made it to the fortress. The river that had once been flowing beside it had dried up, that was to Coras' favor however. His father's burial had been underneath the waters.
It had been something the men of the fortress thought to be the greatest honor. They would build a dam to stop the water at a certain point, then dig a grave for the bravest of men.
They had believed that the waters above would wash away their sins as their spirit left, rising through and becoming clean.
Coras' father had been one of those who'd been buried underneath. He'd been the general to fend off one of the greatest armies the fortress had survived against. He had died in battle, and so was buried underneath the river.
Coras found his fathers grave and began digging. He wasn't sure what she was after, but so long as he could catch her, it didn't matter.
He reached the bottom quickly, then ripped out the coffin. He broke the chain keeping it closed then opened it to find dust and a cloth. The body had been lying there for centuries, so it was no surprise how far it had decayed.
Spices had been spread out throughout the coffin, another tradition of the people who had once resided here.
Coras stood there, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, so Coras shut the coffin, put it back in the hole, then rebarried it.
He looked around but couldn't see anything. Had the Sasscare in the pub misled him? It was possible, but Coras had been following a dry road before, there was no point in trying to mislead him.
A loud bell sounded in the fortress, Coras turned. The bell was the alarm bell that the soldiers had used to alert the army.
Coras went inside the city to see the bell tower, and the bell itself ringing, though there was no one there ringing it. The door to the bell tower opened and a tall figure walked out.
The figure was curvy with a squarish face and a missing ring finger. She wore a long, puffy wedding dress, and a smile that formed a straight line.
She started walking towards him.
Just like on the day they met, Nearie was beautiful. Her smile captivated the soul, her figure tempted men, and her eyes sparkled as if stars sat within them.
Though Sasscares needed bodies to possess—with no real appearance of their own—Nearie had created her own body. It was made of pure mana, derived from the several dimensions she controlled.
Maintaining such a body required a great amount of mana, and without the infinite supply Nearie's dimensions granted her, she would have lost it centuries ago.
Coras watched her captivating appearance, and felt nothing. The love that had once been prevalent in his heart had disappeared along with everything else. Though the feeling hadn't seemed to fade in her.
Ironically however, Nearie had been the one responsible for his current situation.
"It's good to see you again dear," Nearie said, her voice sweeter than honey.
She moved to hug him and Coras reached out a hand to grab her waist. She jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed his visor.
His grip on her waist tightened, and his other hand found her head a moment later—and he ripped it from her body.
An energy blast shot him from his position into the thick stone walls. And when Coras looked up, Nearie was holding her head in her arms.
"It's rude to try to kill someone when you reunite with them, Coras." Nearie said, putting her head back on. "We haven't seen each other in centuries, why not enjoy some tea and a snack?"
Coras forced himself out of the wall, then charged. He swung a massive gauntleted hand, but hit nothing as Nearie disappeared from his sight and reappeared sitting on his shoulder.
"It's been so long, and I see you still care about me." Nearie said with a smile.
Coras grabbed her wedding dress, pulled her down, then swung her body to slam it into the ground. Coras lifted the now empty dress and tossed it aside, glancing around for her.
Something grabbed his arm and tried pulling down. Coras looked down to find a black mass attached to his arm. The mass formed a face and looked up with a grin.
Coras ripped his arm away only for another mass to grab his leg, he ripped this free as well.
A dozen other masses formed around him like shadows, pinning him down in place. Coras looked around at the Sasscares forming around him.
More were coming still, dozens of them, or perhaps even hundreds. He ripped one after another off him, stomping on some, and crushing others in his palm.
He killed several, but too many had come and Coras felt the armored joints begin to lock up from pressure. He was putting too much stress on his armor, and the hundreds of Sasscares surrounding him prevented his own strength from showing. An instant however, every Sasscare stilled.
"That armor is a work of art," Nearie said, Coras glanced upwards, his helm stuck in place by dozens of Sasscares whose masses had combined to give them strength. "I'm curious as to who made it?"
Her form faded in from another dimension, as if she was formed of mist. With the wedding dress gone, she wore a deep black sleeveless dress with gloves extended near her shoulder.
The bottom part of both the dress and gloves were layered and designed with spider lilies. The top part of the chest was cut at an angle down the middle with what looked to be a deliberate slice with a blade. The two sides were only held together with a few strings.
Coras didn't reply to her question. So Nearie moved, using the other Sasscares as steps until they were face to face. Coras didn't move, so Nearie leaned her back against his chest, her head inches away from his own.
"Why do you fight, Coras?" Nearie asked. "Why do you insist on killing me? I have only given you love since the day we met." Nearie bent her head backwards, "Sasscares shouldn't be capable of love, but I broke the rules of my kind for you. The least you could do is reciprocate."
"Funny," Coras said, "considering you took my humanity, I should think that you would blame yourself for our current situation."
"Humanity shrumanity," Nearie replied, "I gave you the gift of immortality, to live for eternity is far greater than anything mankind could give you."
"I'd rather spend eternity in hell than willingly receive your patronage." Coras said.
"You say that like you have a preference," Nearie replied. "Emotions are like a void in your heart," Nearie touched his chest, "a void that will never look back no matter how long you stare. Tell me. If you feel nothing, why do you care for humanity's future? You've seen men squabble, you've seen and known how they act. Why not just let me touch their hearts?"
"What is right has nothing to do with emotions." Coras answered simply. "But what of you, how do you plan on their destruction? Mankind might squabble, but they survive together, they won't die off too easily."
"Simple, men desire power," Nearie claimed, lifting her other hand. "And it just so happens that I have that in spades. Pushing for one another's downfall would be simple. I've already made my move actually."
"When?" Coras asked.
"Decades ago," Nearie replied, "you haven't even noticed them."
Them? Coras thought, so there is more than one. "If you have everything set up, then why wait?" Coras asked.
"Whenever you push on something, do you not feel force on you in equal measure?" Nearie asked. "Though, I was close to winning at one point not too long ago, but they found something. I never considered they would fall so far as to use something as vial as me as their weapon."
So there is something pushing her away, Coras thought. If he kept this up, perhaps talking to her wouldn't be a waste.
"And what of the Elves?" Coras asked. "Unlike man, whose lifespan doesn't allow them time to master their power, Elves live for centuries. They could destroy your armies."
Nearie smiled. "True, but they refuse to connect with mankind. A collaboration between the two could kill my kind. But their ridiculous doctrine forbids the action. Their fools who exchange potential power for their "righteousness.""
Coras waited for her to say more, but she didn't. "Power is limited," Coras said, attempting to get on her nerves. "Righteousness and posterity are eternal, I'm not surprised you don't understand that."
A vein popped on Nearie's head, "take off his helm."
The surrounding Sasscares formed behind Coras and collectively attempted to take it off. The armor resisted until another vein popped on Nearie's head, causing her to reach out, then ripped the helm off herself.
She smiled at Coras' skeletal form. Underneath the armor was nothing but bones connected with Nearie's own mana. He had been disgusted with that in his first decade, but that emotion, too, had faded.
"I understand more than you could ever imagine," Nearie said.
She leaned further in, and kissed him. Her lips met bone, but she didn't seem to care. Coras felt her heartbeat accelerate, when her chest pressed against his. Coras had her.
Coras shifted, feeling energy spread throughout his body. It was not mana but something else, Coras' very soul began to burn throughout his body.
Nearie's eyes shot open, and she kicked off him. Despite the other Sasscares holding him down with strength, Coras overwhelmed them and grabbed a hold of Nearie's waist. His hand was nearly large enough to wrap around it completely.
Coras opened his mouth, then bit Nearie's shoulder. Blood did not spill, there was no blood in a body made completely of mana. Coras' joints began getting stronger as they sucked the mana from her form.
She had an infinite amount, though that was only due to her connection with dimensional voids. If he could take it faster then she withdrew it, she would die. She squirmed for some time before smiling.
"We'll meet again," Nearie said, "Tell me about that armor next time would you," she vanished, form and all.
The other Sasscares went with her. With his battle aura, they wouldn't be able to hold him down, and he would eventually just kill them all. Coras picked his helm off the ground, and put it back on.
The mana he'd taken from Nearie would fade—undead could not hold power given by God. But that mana would vanish quicker as his armor used it to repair itself.
The meeting had been very informative. For one; Coras was not yet strong enough to overcome Nearie.
Undead grew stronger the older they got, though at a slower pace than Elves, so he figured it might take him another thousand years before would try again. But even with that—the amount of mana she fought with did not match how much she could withdraw.
Secondly; Nearie had been moving through organizations. He would need to find it, and whatever it was that pushed her back. The weapon her contesters were using to fight her.