BLAKE PUDDING [1st Draft]

The Dark Acolyte deftly maneuvered through the barrage of spells, clashing swords, and shields. Rather than engaging in direct combat, Sophia leveraged her spirits to battle on her behalf, concentrating on sustaining their tangible forms. This skill, honed through her training, allowed her to conjure and maintain her spirits independently of the system. This newfound ability seemed to transcend the conventional use of mana, leaving Sophia puzzled about the source of her summoning power.

As an elf fell, pierced by one of her ethereal specters, Sophia flashed a grin, narrowly evading an incoming arrow. The battle raged through the narrow alleys and streets of a city borne from the desperation of refugees seeking asylum among vampires. This gathering of diverse races and beings under the vampires’ protection highlighted the Kingdom of Slaethia’s true menace, sparking a deep understanding within Sophia. This insight fueled her determination to persevere amid the unyielding assault.

It was ironic. Despite originating from a relatively peaceful existence—granted, growing up in a tough neighborhood and enduring the horror of witnessing not one, but two mass shootings, a testament to the so-called American dream—Sophia was taken aback by how naturally she adapted to the pervasive violence and mayhem.

The only individuals she observed assimilating more adeptly to this level of chaos were Blake and Jason. And while Sophia found herself somewhat fond of that unpredictable woman, her disdain for Jason remained unyielding, fueled by the visceral memory of him literally ripping her heart out. However, as circumstances had conspired to make them allies, for the time being, she begrudgingly postponed any plans of murdering him in his sleep, choosing instead to bide her time.

“How are you holding up?” Jeremy called out, driving a massive sword into the skull of a dwarf before unleashing a black bolt that exploded among a large group of soldiers.

To Sophia’s surprise, the sole survivor of that group was a barbarian-looking man in a furry thong. He let out a mighty roar, charging at Jeremy like a bull on a rampage. A specter intercepted the man, thrusting a needle-like sword right into his eye and deep into his brain, halting his rampage before it truly began.

“I’m doing pretty good,” Sophia responded, dodging a fireball as she leaped behind a specter wielding a shield. “It’s a shame the vampires aren’t doing much,” she called out, raising her voice so that the dark figures in their day armor could hear her, even as they held their defensive lines a few blocks away. She knew it was too far for a normal human to hear, but she was certain the vampires caught every word.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out vampiric battle strategies. In fact, Sophia had realized what they would do before even stepping onto the battlefield within the city—hold defense until the rise of dusk and the descent of the light. Unfortunately, it was only brunch time, and she was dying for a mimosa—regrettably, she’d have to settle for a Bloody Mary, or perhaps an elf—

“Ugh, what’s wrong with me? I’m starting to think like a freaking vampire,” she scoffed at herself.

“What’s that?” Jeremy called out as he cut down what she was sure he’d later boast were hordes—though, let’s be honest, it was more like five—of barbarians and soldiers with a single swipe.

“Nothing!” Sophia quickly blurted out, then added in a hurried tone, “Um, hey, where’s Jason?”

Together, they were holding back the tide, but it was relentless. Each airship’s landing swelled the ranks of fighters they faced. The archers and mages posed the real challenge, maintaining their distance and making them particularly difficult to reach. However, Sophia couldn’t help but admit, despite her distaste for the needle-toothed prick, that having Jason around would make things significantly easier.

“Knowing him,” Jeremy kicked a practically nude woman off his blade before continued, “he’s probably flanking their rear.”

At Jeremy’s words, Sophia noticed several mages and archers at the back glance behind them. Although, to her dismay, there was no one there. However, that moment of distraction was all she needed to send four of her remaining twelve specters rushing at them. Maintaining the spirit warriors was surprisingly easy; it seemed as if they fed off the ambient mana. The challenge was in the long cast time required to summon more, which explained her frown when two of her specters were destroyed before even reaching the enemies’ ranged support. However, her frown quickly turned into a smile as the surviving two began wreaking havoc among the mages and archers, throwing their lines into chaos.

Witnessing the mayhem caused by her two specters, Sophia capitalized on the chaos. She sent five more specters into the fray, opting to keep her last three by her side for protection. “Jeremy!” she called out, catching his attention before added, “I’m heading back to the defensive line to call forth more spirits.”

“No problem, I’ve got—” Jeremy’s words died on his lips.

Blinking in confusion, Sophia glanced down, noticing a javelin protruding from her chest. “Fuck,” she gasped before crumbling to the ground.

As Sophia lay there, ignoring Jeremy’s yelling, all while feeling her consciousness slipping away, she gazed up into the heavens to see an angel descending toward her on golden wings.

Aurelia

With my generals at my sides, I stormed into the building housing the city’s refugee leaders. Within the first hour of the battle, I’d already lost a third of the city to the Slaethians. Worse yet, my beloved was locked in combat with their champion, whose specialty was precisely my beloved’s weakness. It took all my self-control not to rush to her side, but under the sun, my presence would only hinder her. As a vampire, I needed the cover of darkness to defeat that fire-wielding fiend.

“Please, my love, survive until darkness swallows this battlefield,” I prayed silently to my Blake.

Turning my ire towards those before me, I issued a single command, “Report,” drawing the focused attention of everyone in the room.

“Your majesty,” Chief Hensley said as he bowed, tucking his tail behind him—a sign of submission, or perhaps fear, given how poorly I was concealing my rage. “We’re losing,” was all he managed to utter, heightening my anger.

I was a hair’s breadth away from removing his head when Rhyessa, a catkin woman and former queen of the beastkin whom I was now determined to restore to her throne, intervened. “Empress, forces have been dispatched to the airship yard where Nikola has been laboring. Regrettably, we have only one airship that is currently airworthy. Meanwhile, skirmishers have been deployed throughout the city for hit-and-run tactics to stall for time until the lunar eclipse. Additionally, two of your personal retinue—a human woman and a canine beastkin man—have been valiantly holding back the enemy line by themselves.”

Ah, the lunar eclipse. With Völuspá’s countless moons and the gas giant looming large in the sky, eclipses were frequent and the day-night cycles irregular, making astronomy a vital skill for anyone living on any of the moons.

“How long until the eclipse?” I asked, focusing back on the strategic timing needed for our next move. Rhyessa was about to answer when the door burst open. I spun around, my form-fitting obsidian armor clinking as I prepared to confront our attacker, only to halt when I saw Jeremy’s panicked face. Behind him was Vanya Anlyth, a sight that made me scowl. She should have been with my love, protecting her in the battle against the enemy champion. I was about to rip out her throat when I noticed she was carrying Sophia in her arms.

The woman in her arms looked lifeless, but I could barely discern the faint heartbeat slowly fading. “Why haven’t you healed her?” I demanded of my love’s champion.

“Their weapons are laced with a necrotic poison,” Anlyth explained. “I can’t heal her.”

I paused at that. It made no sense to use a poison that was ineffective against vampires unless... they were intentionally targeting someone susceptible to it. My eyes narrowed at the elven woman, but refrained from voicing my suspicions. Instead, I issued a simple order, “Put her on the table,” I directed, pointing to where a map of the city lay before us.

~

Sophia blinked, finding herself in a familiar setting, yet oddly different from what she remembered. She was in a humble dining room, where a lavish spread of food was piled high, nearly covering every inch of the table.

“Greetings, my little Dark Acolyte,” a kind, motherly voice greeted her.

Turning toward the source of the voice, Sophia saw the Crone, not as an aged hag or skeletal figure but as a youthful woman brimming with life and joy.

Sophia’s shoulders slumped as she sighed, “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Not yet,” the Crone replied with a gentle smile.

Sophia paused, taking in her words before asking, “What do you mean—how am I here, then?”

“Look around you,” the Crone insisted. “This is the Realm of Dreams, not the land of the dead, though I can see how most could mistake it as such. The cycles of reincarnation have been broken for so long, leaving countless lost souls to wander my domain. It’s rather sad that only a mere few hundred ever manage to reincarnate every few years. But enough of that, we’re here to talk about you.”

“About me?” Sophia pointed to herself, confused.

“My daughter is going to lose. No matter what happens, she will not only perish, but the champion of the so-called Gods of Light will take her dungeon core,” the Crone paused, allowing Sophia to grasp the severity of her words. “You are about to be offered something significant in the waking world, and I wish to give you my blessing along with it. In return, I ask that you save my only daughter.”

“A blessing?” Sophia echoed, puzzled, unable to fully comprehend what she was being told.

“You may believe Jason is my champion, but in truth, I did not claim him—or any of you—as my champion. Instead, I cheated the system, making all of you champions, though none of you are truly ‘my’ champions…”

“I don’t understand,” Sophia whispered.

As the Goddess of Dreams continued to speak, Sophia felt her head spin, her thoughts clouded by a growing fog. Suddenly, a piercing pain shot through her neck, causing her to grasp at it tightly as she stared at the goddess—at the Crone.

“What’s happening to me?” Sophia asked, her voice trembling. A metallic taste filled her mouth as she spoke, causing her to gulp in surprise and discomfort.

“You’re being reborn, little creature of the night,” the Crone whispered softly, her voice echoing as the world around Sophia began to fade into darkness. “Now go and save your Goddess of Nightmares.”

 

¹