03. Light

Karn breathed deeply the stench of burning homes and fresh blood. In spite of himself, it exhilarated him. What am I becoming? He thought, one clear, resounding thought shining through the barely-concealed blood lust.

"What do you get, Jamy?" Karn was surprised at how bestial his own voice sounded to him. Another sure sign of my rapidly accelerating Descent. The thought was grim.

"What do you get for this. . . this horror?" He whispered the last word, wishing for a more descriptive one as he surveyed the newly-wrought carnage. His newly-wrought carnage.

Jamy stood straight, looking every bit the knight that she was in her gleaming armor. Karn had once longed to wear such armor--the emblem of the highest tier of The Gwinthian Order. Now, the thought was more and more disturbing as the days went. He'd never wear that armor. That thought, at least, was a happy one.

It was, however, quickly banished by another: Wretchedmen would never be anything but tools in the Knights' cruel hands.

Suddenly angrier than he could ever remember being, Karn repeated his question with a guttural growl. "What do you get for all of this, Jamy?"

She frowned, a sign of more-then-mild displeasure from the usually apathetic knight, and sent out a soothing wave of Light toward Karn, quieting his anger momentarily and making him slightly more human than he had been moments before. She stared at him coldly, then finally answered, "Obedience, Wretch." Her tone was flat, but there was a sudden fire in her eyes as she added, "We buy obedience to The Light with the blood of the wicked. You know this."

Karn grunted and stared at the bloody blade in his still-clenched fist. It seemed so much lighter than it had just days before. His Descent, it seemed, was indeed as rapid as Jamy had foretold. Of course, he wasn't surprised. Under her destructive tutelage there had been no other option but a quick Descent into Wretchedness.

His slower-than-usual mind finally asked, "And who decides what wicked is?"

She smiled at that. Even with dulled senses, Karn felt a chill at the sight of it. "God." She said simply. "Now come, Wretch. We have business in Geran." With that, she was off, obviously expecting to be followed.

Karn trudged after her, tired of resisting and hoping that the movement would kick start his mind. His body was larger than he was used to--another side effect of his Descent. As a result, he was stronger, a tad slower, and, it felt to him, much hardier. It was useful; he was, after all, to become a tool for mass killing.

"God?" He asked as they walked through the wreckage of the small village. Between Jamy and he, the village of just over one hundred souls had been all but obliterated. Small shacks lay in ruin, many still smoldering. The flames were a sharp memory to Karn--he'd been entranced by them to the point of distraction. Jamy had punished him for that. The bodies were less unsettling than part of his mind told him they should be. As it was, they were just another fact of the scene--no matter how gruesome.

"Yes, Wretch. God. The All-Powerful One. Our Ruler. The Infinite Mind. The Light." She sounded bored, as always, and Karn figured that she probably was. Jamy rarely found entertainment in much of anything.

"Do you know Him?" Karn stumbled over the words as he spoke them and cursed himself inwardly for it.

Jamy waved a hand over her shoulder. "I've seen him at court many times. He has addressed me but once. Now, silence, Wretch. Let me walk in peace."

Something seemed wrong with that to Karn, but he couldn't place what. A part of his mind seemed to be screaming at him, but he couldn't quite make it out.

"Yes, Jamy." He simply answered, following her into the Oblivion portal she had just opened. A single crisp thought broke through as he felt himself tugged through the Void:

Why should a God keep and attend a court?