Cold Night

The knights cheered as they caught another great prey for tonight's dinner. They gathered around, marveling at the three wild boars laying on the grass. In order to arrive to Ashendel in time without delay, they had to leave with little food and drinks with them. Hunting in the forest was their only way to fill their forest. Around this time, finding a decent prey will be difficult for them. They had their worries about this. Yet, the situation doesn't seem to come out as they expected.

Luther frowned. Did the heaven smiled upon them this time? There have been no issues since they depart from Havenbarrow. The animals, either prey or predator, have been getting closer to them. It was as if there was something in the forest that frightened them. 

"The journey seems going smoother than I thought. There were some wandering sinners, but nothing the knights can't handle. If this keeps going, we might arrive at Ashendel in time." Vincent smiled. He was the one who had been nothing but concern about the journey. Everyone knew a journey on a road at a time like this was placing a gamble for their lives. Upon the return of the seven sinners, their kin ventured out from their prison. Sinners slaughter unfortunate souls that caught their bloodlust eyes.

"Captain, tell the gods our gratitude for tonight's feast!" One of the knight exclaimed. Luther immediately recognized a bald head of a knight peeking out among the crowd.

"Sir Hartwin, where are your manners?!" Vincent scolded.

"Cut me some slack, vice-captain. We should be grateful for the feast." Hartwin patted the back of a nearby knight. Maybe a little too hard, as the knight almost tripped down.

Luther patted Vincent's shoulder. He shook his head. Let them enjoy themselves for a moment.

"Captain…" His partner sighed in defeat.

Luther gestured his hand for a sign. Before he finished, his vision shifted into darkness for a second. He froze. It was nothing in front of him but blind darkness.

Take me away.

Someone finds us.

Give it back. That's mine.

My prayers won't reach the heaven.

Creeping hands pulled his cloak from behind. The voices begged him, screeching in his ears. Then bells resonated through his whole body. Before he realized it, he was already on his knees.

"Captain!" Vincent called out. "Is it the heaven's voice?"

The knights gathered. They went down on their knees and clasped their hands. As the bells continued to ring, heaven spoke to him.

O light, the heaven heard their prayers.

Pass through the Dragon's Slumber.

Bring their prayers. Return their gifts.

Luther collapsed to the ground. His chest raised and fall rapidly. Black spots in his vision faded. He reached out to a knight in the crowd. Without a word, they gave a space for the knight to come forward. The young knight laid the map out on the grass. Trembling hand pointed to a new destination. A mountain of a slain beast laid near where they were now.

"The Dragon Slumber."

The knights went pale and whispered out legends of the beast. An ancient beast served one of the seven sinners. Its flame burned even in the present day. Their ancestors slain the beast and put it into an eternal slumber. Its tainted flesh festered for another coming hundreds of years before the nightmare finally stopped.

"This isn't funny. Passing through that mountain. Is the heaven punishing us?"

"Enough, the captain heard the heaven's message. He must obey its will or there will be a different judgment waiting for us."

Luther sat down when the ordeal ended. His head was still ringing. Sweats poured down all over his body.

"What else did you hear?" Hartwin held his shoulder.

People. He motioned his hands. Just remembering those voices sent a chill shiver.

"Then you must answer their prayers." Hartwin clenched his fists.

Luther nodded. He would never abandon those voices. As the luminary of voice, he will listen to their prayers and bring it to the heaven no matter what.

"What will happen if the captain doesn't obey the will?" A young knight glanced at the senior knights.

"He'll lose his miracle prayer."

* * * * * *

A bundle of fluffy snow-white tail tickled her heart, teasing her. The rabbit continued to munch its food. Unaware of a pair of crimson eyes hiding behind a bush, watching it from afar. Ethel flicked her finger. Her shadow sliced its shadow, ending its life in a swift.

What are you doing? The butterfly asked.

She dismissed its judging tone with a wave. "Leave me be."

Ethel crunched down. She cradled the rabbit in her hand. Her shadow gathered broken branches and twigs near the area. A snapped of her finger lit up a crimson bonfire.

Ethel clasped her hands together. Her eyes shut closed. It was a life she doesn't deserve, but a life given to her. For that life, she wished to grant her gratitude. A hunter prayed for in front of their hunted preys. Loved ones prayed for the deceased beloved. Prisoner in shackled prayed before their execution. In times of joy and loss, they clasped prayers in their heart. Ethel never understand the meaning behind such behavior. It wasn't different talking to themselves. Yet, what started as a curiosity became a habit. Though she knew her prayer may not reach the sky, the mortal's way of life has already ingrained in her. Years after years, she watched the mortals. She tried to understand them so one day she could live among them. A futile dream.

Once she was done with her brief prayer, she turned to the bonfire.

You can't taste anything.

"Maybe I don't, but a good food warms the lonely heart."

She started with skinning the rabbit with her shadow as a cleave. She did the same routine with her fellow sinners. Every second of their time sticking close together. Gluttony did most of the cooking. He couldn't trust any of them with the food without butchering the meat, even to the bones.

While roasting the meat, she kept her flame under control. Last time she let her mind wondered off, the whole meat turned into charcoal. Gluttony kept reminding her to keep her fire under control every second since then. They can't even taste anything. Food wasn't a necessary for the sinner. They need no drink or food to replenish their hollow stomach. Still, the time spend on sitting around the bonfire together somehow made them forget about the troubles around them.

"Was it supposed to look this way?"

There was barely any meat as it kept falling off into the fire. She might have skin more than its skin. Ethel took the pieces of its meat like a beggar eating some scraps from a leftover.

How is it?

"Like I'm eating a twig."

There was nothing but its hard and dried texture. Maybe it was a waste of time. The crackling sound of burning wood filled the silence. Its crimson flame illuminated the night. They weren't here. No one to scold her for making a mess on the meat. Greed and gluttony fought who gets the last piece of the dinner. Fallon was in a slumber unaware of Aranea approaching as she covered him with a blanket. Ophelia's eyes gleamed on a fairytale book she found from an abandoned carriage by the road. Pride sat across from her. The fire was the only wall between them.

"It's cold," she commented.

At least those mortals have a feast tonight. You send those poor wild boars into their plates. The butterfly joked, easing the coldness.

Ethel laughed. An accident she didn't intend to happen. While trying to keep her distance from the mortals, she ran into a passel of wild boars. They scattered away in different directions upon sensing her dark, looming presence as a sinner. "Forgive me, little one."

Unforgivable.

The small teasing back and forth made her forgot the cold night. Ethel wrapped her arms around herself. Her own incarnations comforting her. Anyone seeing this would have the impression of her falling into madness.

Where might they be heading? Could it be Ashendel?

She wanted to think of it as a coincidence. But for the past three days, it doesn't seem like they were going any further away from the path she was taking to Ashendel. "If it was, then fate is twisting a new story."