The tap tap tap of Juhend’s cane was unbothered by the snow and ice as he and Jezebel wandered around the village. At first, they had gone north, but when the house didn’t present itself, they had found themselves rotating counterclockwise around the periphery of the village. After some time of this, and with Jezebel slowly noticing the chill of the area, she became more at ease and quizzical. The pair had made small talk- Jezebel’s relationship with Gusto, their mutual faith in the Many Winged Angel, what it was like for Juhend to be a Passenger. Eventually, Juhend stopped and looked Jezebel in the eye.

  “Ms. Eremit, I have spent quite some time these past few hours manipulating your senses. Most people would find this process extremely uncomfortable. Not only that, but you have also agreed to help me rescue your friends, and even your process of joining this task force itself was unusual. Tell me, why go against your own nature to such a degree? I can easily sense the conflicting emotions within you.”

  Jezebel glanced down at her feet.

  “Gusto said yes to the task force… So did Hannah… I’m technically still employed by her as a maid, even if I don’t usually do most tasks…”

  Juhend smiled as his cane made a tap on the ground.

  “Ms. Eremit, I will not offer you any advice regarding your relationships or circumstances. It is not my place to do so. However, as your superior in this temporary task force, I am obligated to make one thing clear:

  Nothing in mysticism ever happens in a vacuum. Going against the flow of your own soul eventually leads to a loss of identity, even if you never become a monster… Do you understand what I am saying?”

  Jezebel sighed.

  “I do, I think. You mean that, even though I love Gusto and my friends, trying to overpower my own soul to follow them may make me unhealthy?”

  “Correct. Ms. Eremit, there was once a powerful Devil. The Mother of Monsters, she was known as. She was every bit as powerful as the Abyss, every bit as cunning as the Mind Most High, and every bit as ruthless as the Serpent. But, She was unsure of Herself.

  One day, She met the Friendly Moon- yes, the very entity that is worshipped as an Accepted Angel. During the discussion, and I don’t know what exactly was said, She came to the realization that She was unhappy with Her trajectory.

  She made an agreement with the Friendly Moon. One that allowed the two clashing aspects of Her soul to find Their own versions of peace. In the ensuing circumstances, many changes happened in the various Realms, and the Hanging Mother of Crows and Whispering Maiden of Seduction and Envy were born from Her split psyche.

  Do you know why I am telling you this?”

  Jezebel shook her head, engrossed in the story.

  “It’s because everyone is still human. Every animal, every blade of grass, even the currents of air in the sky have a latent connection with the Realm in which they are placed. Even without souls, animals still have physical forms, even with physical form, the winds and rains and stars connect with the Realm around them.

  And a human being, a mortal form, is capable of harmonizing their soul with a Realm. If we do so effectively, we become an Angel or, depending on the process, a Devil. But even the Mother of Monsters, one of the most powerful True Divinities in history, was unhappy. Why do you think that was?”

  Jezebel pondered before raising her hand as if she was in school.

  “She was unhappy not because She was misharmonized, but because Her soul itself was going against its own flow for some reason?”

  Juhend smiled somberly.

  “Correct. Even an Angel that is fully harmonized with Their Realm is capable of going against the flow of their soul. And when that happens, the result of anything is the same.”

  Juhend looked up to the sky.

  “The winds, animals, people, divinities. All things are more alike than they seem. And when anything goes against its nature, it ceases to have its meaning. So, Ms. Eremit, I ask you.

  Do you wish to become a Passenger in this task force?”

  Jezebel thought long and hard about the question, unsure about what her answer might be.

  …

  In the depths of a sewer system below some major city, a pair of figures could hear the dripping of water as it splashed onto the floor near them. One of them, an attractive figure wearing worn brown pants and a dark colored cloak, wielded a dark halberd on her back. It had an icy blue aura to it.

  “Sequence, I was under the impression that you would be running interference to make sure the church didn’t find us.”

  The figure in front of her responded with a scoff. Though it had no mouth, eyes, or other features, Hrime could sense its chilling gaze.

  “I did for quite some time. It is not my responsibility to find the Instrument. That task falls to you. Be thankful I eliminated those soldiers for you. The attack on Martes deserves some credit as well.”

  “I thought that was unrelated. That demigod serves the Ever-Decaying Lord, does He not?”

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “A reasonable sequence of events will play out without much error, given the right inspiration. But it was costly. You need to pick up your pace; your benefactor is nearing the end of Her patience.”

  “I do not serve the Maiden.”

  “And yet, a reasonable sequence of events has ensured that you are on this path all the same.”

  Hrime frowned.

  “Are you threatening me, Sequence?”

  Sequence bowed slightly, vacating the sewer and the Realm it was contained within with the pop of surrounding air instantly filling the vacant space. A small cluster of white feathers fluttered in the air as Sequence’s voice traveled across the wind, seemingly coming from any number of directions around Hrime.

  “It is not a threat if I have already followed through, young Chosen.”

  In the midst of the sewer, Hrime did not leave for a long time.

  …

  Juhend and Jezebel watched as the sun dipped into a nadir on the horizon. This Realm never had a night, but it did have a dusky twilight. The snowfields around the village were tinged slightly purple as the sky was filled with oranges, reds and indigos. Eventually, Juhend stopped moving again and turned around towards Jezebel.

  “The house will appear shortly. Remember the plan.”

  “Find the source of the crying, splash the water, recite the honorific.”

  “Good. May the Many Winged Angel bless us both.”

  Juhend and Jezebel both drew the holy symbol of the Many Winged Angel on their chests- drawing their right hands from their left shoulders to their right hip and then repeating the motion with their other side.

  Shortly, Jezebel noticed the house.

  Its look was unchanged. Four stories tall, it had many windows, a wide set of double doors, and no light coming from the inside. She had no idea how the entire house managed to manifest itself without her noticing, but now that it was here, she felt a twinge of fear in her heart. Glancing over to Juhend, who remained calm, she steeled herself and took a deep breath.

  Juhend walked forward and entered the house. The interior had no furnishings, not even a staircase was present. It was entirely hollow, save for layers upon layers of human bodies lying down in the middle of the air. Many of them were utterly cold, as if they had died of hypothermia. Among them, Adam, Hannah, Gusto and Hellig were at the bottom layer, laying down in midair as if they were in some kind of invisible coffins. Without delay, Juhend swung his cane to his left. A resounding crack could be heard as it impacted something solid!

  A white, ghostly figure suddenly became corporeal near Juhend, its dress was elongated into many wispy strands of fiber, and its eyes were icy blue. A smell of ham, potatoes and other foods attempted to permeate throughout the house, and a series of illusory items began to manifest. A fireplace, chairs, countertops, a tree, gifts.

  Juhend had no inkling of worry. With a snap of his fingers, these illusions immediately disappeared, and the figure squealed in pain. Juhend advanced forward. The tap tap tap of his cane was as loud as ever, echoing inside of the hollow box.

  “I shall occupy you for the time being, if that’s alright. You seem to have met a few students of mine earlier today, and I believe it’s about time for them to be getting back home.”

  The ghostly figure could not conceal its fear as the entire house quaked, as if the very structure itself was feeling terror.

  …

  Outside, the crying of a baby began to drift along the wind. Jezebel was startled at first but swiftly recovered.

  She may not have wanted to be a Passenger, she may not like danger, but she was damn sure of one thing:

  She was going to save her friends.

  Walking through the snow towards the source of the crying, she was buffeted by the winds as the weather slowly became a blizzard. Thankfully, she only felt somewhat cold- no less manageable than a winter’s morning back in Diell City. Slowly and surely, Jezebel’s footsteps left the cobblestone path, leaving the village and the four-story box behind her. After ten minutes, the baby’s crying was nearly deafening. It made her ears ring and her feet unsteady. But still, she pressed on. After another ten minutes, she spotted something up ahead.

  An alabaster statue, intricately carved, stood in the midst of the snow. It was nearly invisible in the snowstorm. To be frank, Jezebel had no idea how she managed to make it out. But she did, and she wasn’t concerned, because it was the source of the cries.

  She approached the statue, which was three meters high and had the face of a crying child carved into the top. Its torso was etched with numerous hands pawing at the crying infant’s face, and its base was a mass of tentacles, eyes and teeth. It made Jezebel’s mind go hazy and foggy just looking at it, but she was prepared.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a glass vial of water that glistened with a sheen similar to that of moonlight. It was as if the stars themselves were illuminating the vial.

  She splashed the water on the statue.

  Its face rotated like a machine with a chunk sound, forming a contorted grimace. The snow around Jezebel began to rapidly melt and turn into steam. Her fear caused her to fall down backwards, but she immediately began to pray.

  “Exorcist of the Angelic Wings,

  Seer of Intuition and Fortitude.

  Hear my prayer and cleanse this monster!”

  Immediately, the steam from the melting snow stopped in place. Jezebel felt a slight quake underneath her, as if the earth itself was protesting. The statue cracked once, twice, thrice, and quickly shattered. It scattered into dust in a light breeze as the snow began to subside.

  She heard the tap tap tap of Juhend Sureb’s cane as he slowly walked towards her. He offered his hand to help her up.

  “Well done, Ms. Eremit. Shall we rejoin the group?”

  She was momentarily at a loss for words.

  “They’re alright?”

  Juhend nodded.

  “Though I can’t say the same for the populace of the village. They all died of hypothermia before we could get here.”

  Jezebel’s mood immediately became solemn as Juhend led her towards the figures of Hellig, Adam, Hannah and Gusto in the snow.

  …