Lark spoke in a casual manner, the sable wolf mask suddenly appearing in the air in front of him. She raised her hand and twisted it around, causing it to spin slowly. He grasped at it in an annoyed fashion, giving it a look.
Once, it had been empty, devoid of colour and life. Then, after he had devoured his teacher, forced to effectuate the contract by the demon in front of him, it had gained an illusory silver sheen.
This was because his teacher was a Spirit User himself. He had contracted himself, and gained an ability because of it. That was the origin of 'Gambit'.
Now, it simultaneously permeated a faint red colour.
It meant that it had devoured another ability, the hollow armour's ability. This was the power of the Spirit that inhabited it previously, which Lark had taken to splaying across her dining table in a putrid, beautifully ferocious manner.
Lark did not have a penchant for sharing. Her manner was that of a glutton, and so she had devoured the Spirit entirely. All that was left was its ability, like bloodstains on the mask that would never wash away. All that had been left behind by horror.
"What if I don't want the ability?"
"Choosing not to accept it now would be very painful."
"For who? Painful for me? I didn't have anything to do with this."
"No, it would be painful for me, dull Prince. I already ate the Spirit. If you forewent its ability, it would be like denying it entirely, and you have that power in your hands already. It would tear itself away from the mask, away from me. It would be like eating a rabbit, and having it gnaw its way out of your stomach before escaping into the forest."
"That's fairly tempting…"
Lark sat back in her seat, rolling her eyes.
Seeing this, a pleasant feeling washed through his heart.
"What does it do?"
"It copies weapons. That's all. You can copy a single weapon at a time, and then summon a copy of it whenever you wish. Of course, at a cost. My cost."
Is that why the onyx sword disappeared? Because the armour used an ability to summon it?
"Every time I summon it, I would have to eat something?"
Lark shook her head, smiling lightly. "If that were the case, I would make a much bigger case to get you interested in it, but its only term is that the contract is effectuated when you copy a weapon. Summoning it after the fact is on your own terms, whenever you please."
"So what would change if I accept this ability?"
"Nothing would change. The Contract terms have already been set. If you want to revise them, we can. But this is just a perk that contracting with me has brought you. You knew this from the moment you drew the blood of your wrist and splashed it across the dotted line."
The young girl's appearance had changed in the time they had been talking. Now, parts of her skull had slowly begun to bulge outwards, drooping slightly. Viscous, web-like pustules clustered together underneath her skin, swirling with a luminescent, putrid orange liquid. Her eyes were a faint glowing green, and sharp, jagged teeth peered out from behind her cracked lips.
This was the true Daemonic nature of the Spirit.
This was Lark, his Warden, his keeper in this self-imposed prison of solitude.
"You don't meet with me very often, so I never got to mention it, but your teacher was delicious. When will you feed me more of your people?
"Humanity is regal, brilliant. It's above being your supper, bastard witch."
"You're being pretentious, little Prince."
He felt his will waver a bit. He knew that she was just mocking him, trying to get him to crack, but it felt good to fight against it.
"Why do you mimic a human shape if you eat them? Do wolves mimic sheep?" He spat in a foul tone.
"Witnessing my true form would kill you."
She leaned back even further, it seemed like the chair was in danger of tipping over completely, but she didn't even have the need to support herself. It simply floated in the air as if it was meant to be that way.
"And it's because I want to appeal to you, so I'm wearing the corpse of your little sister, the one who you watched die brutally and blocked out of your memory. You hated her that much..."
"I can't remember that, so you're definitely lying to me. You can't mess with me that easily."
"Perhaps I'm lying, perhaps I'm not. But the truth remains, you can't remember anything before you came to the Palace, can you, frail Prince? So, anything can be true… you're quite like this mysterious woman, this red-haired enigma, aren't you?"
Artemis let out an audible 'tsk'.
She's right. I know nothing. So how could I possibly declare that I am not who they say I am? Some bastard son of Jehellius Lunastre, a prince of the Witch-King's legacy? But too, I cannot say for certain that I am. I could be anyone. Anything.
Certainly, what type of normal person would be invited to this mysterious land of shadows by chance?
I am something's plaything. Fate or God, I don't think I can appeal to either.
But it is Lark who knows things. I just don't have the will to pay for it, and she doesn't have the motivation to care enough to tell me for free.
Where I am, who I am, these are mysteries I can only discover myself.
"How would you even know of my past, when I can't even recall it?"
"I'm in your mind, your body, your soul. I know what's happening to you as we speak."
Artemis's eyes suddenly widened, scrambling to his feet.
"Am I in danger?"
Lark chuckled. "Nothing immediate."
She ran a finger along the edge of her lips. Suddenly, he began to see wisps of silver floating in the air around them. Branches an ivory hue were cast off from a wisping trunk far in the distant darkness, hovering above them as they rotated in a circadian manner.
This was the tree he had seen briefly in the courtyard, before Lark had summoned him to the Parley.
But why was he being shown it now?
He looked towards Lark, confused. So she complied with an answer.
"Did you know, a tree like this one is dangerous? Whoever made this world took one thing they never should have. Like stealing God's power and planting it in the soil, this thing should have never grown. If you see strange things about, then no wonder. They were never meant to be."
"Strange things? Strange things like what? Armour that shouldn't move on its own, skeletal beasts parading wolf-like beasts around?"
"Those are the most normal things in Shadowhaunt."
Shadowhaunt? That's the name of this place?
So she really does know something…
She continued without waiting for him to pose any questions about what she had been saying. Lark didn't care much to answer them, after all. She was only speaking about things she was interested in, for as long as she was interested in them.
"I want you to survive, really. Because I do not want to reincarnate into the Oasis of a bastard King, some Lord of Spirits I do not know. So I warn you now, once only. Do not eat the fruit of the tree. Do not interact with the shadow of pale eyes. Do not drink the water before boiling it. Never look at the Sign that resembles a jagged triskelion. Do not look at the light that bathes portions of the palace in brilliance, and most certainly do not leave the city. The fog is dreadful, perhaps a compendium of horrors. It's something even I might say I'm afraid of. And I see everything you see, so I would rather you not dwell in the midst of the terror of the abyss."
"That's a… long list of warnings…" He murmured, a bit taken aback. Of course, he knew that this otherworld was dangerous. It had already tried to claim his life twice. But there was more than the physical danger he already knew of.
Would leaving 'Shadowhaunt' be more than a matter of killing beasts?
Lark chuckled wryly. "If you survive this and manage to return home, it will have been because a God chose to keep you alive. No human has enough will to defy this place, this mere shadow of His domain."
This place… what does she know about this place?
"Do you know where I am, Lark? This… 'Shadowhaunt'? You spoke of the person that made this place. What did you mean?"
"Nowhere good for your regal, brilliant humankind, that's quite certain. Somewhere ancient, somewhere planned, somewhere that has been forgotten about by everyone except for the person who stole it away." She shrugged. "Anyways, I'm bored of you now. I only wanted to tell you about the strange thing you left in my food. Get out."
In an instant, Artemis sucked in a heavy, exasperated breath. Light flooded through his eyes, blurring it, and the air felt heavier and colder, damper. There was a putrid scent wafting underneath his nose, and his body ached considerably.
He was back in the mysterious city.
And in the vast emptiness, he heard the illusory voice echo once more.
[Good luck surviving, useless Prince…]