thief of fate-Chapter 40: Banquet in the Abyss

The Abyss...

The Abyss was not merely a place. It was a chasm of madness, a world where reason folded in on itself until it vanished, where sour smells mixed with animalistic screams, where bodies blended with mud, and blood became life itself. A dense, gray dust saturated with the scent of burned flesh filled the horizon, cloaking the jagged cliffs and the interwoven tunnels that resembled black intestines opened to an eternal scream.

Axel stood on the edge of one of the stone balconies, gazing downward, where his kind the Arkanis were fighting over the remains of a gelatinous creature. The body had not yet gone cold, and already one of them had sunk his fangs into the victim’s neck, devouring it like a starving dog, while the others fought atop him to claim their share.

Axel sighed slowly. Nothing had changed.

They were still as they always had been... chaos, flesh, blood, insatiable hunger, and screams that resembled hysterical laughter. And though his mind had learned to ignore it all, his heart or what was left of it still weighed heavy at the sight every time.

One of the naked creatures with three legs and a long tail resembling a dry whip passed by him. Axel avoided contact without even looking. Those creatures, known in the Abyss as the "Whisperers," carried a plague; a mere touch could plunge a being into endless pain. Yet, the Arkanis ate them... even found them delicious.

"Hmm..." Axel muttered to himself quietly as he watched one of the males devour the arm of a younger Arkanis child. "They eat each other, then wonder why we never ascend..."

His path to the meeting hall was not the shortest, but he deliberately passed through what was called the "Carrion Market," an area crowded not with sales cries, but with screams... Creatures bound by their limbs, some still alive, dragged, roasted, chopped, and chewed before the eyes of customers. Blood was used as seasoning, and bones were ground and sprinkled over food like spices.

It was not unusual for a corpse to be thrown in the corner of the road, half-devoured by the half-living, then left to rot. Plague and hunger were no longer considered diseases but had become part of the dietary system.

Axel remained silent... his eyes half-closed, as if he saw nothing despite the vast view. Only when he reached the iron gate leading to the "Ascendants’ Hall" did he pull out a damp cloth from his coat and wiped his hands, as if cleansing himself from the air itself.

The hall was located deep within one of the ancient rock formations, carved from the teeth of a colossal Jathom that died a hundred years ago, according to legend. Fourteen circular seats surrounded a central platform, above which hung a hole dripping glowing blue light... not from the sun, but from a crystal.

They were there.

The other three of his rank... the "Ascendants." Not kings, but above kings in the Abyss. Those who had broken the limits of their bodies, learned to think, but had not abandoned their desires... only organized them.

"Axel... always late," said one of them loudly, laughing. He was called Golerath, tall, his skin covered in burnt scars, and his eyes white as ice, never blinking. He was chewing on a human leg, still warm, with brown fat dripping onto the floor.

"I know you love to show off," said the other, Dirus, whose head was double one laughed, the other cried. The first spoke while the second muttered unintelligible phrases.

As for Siriantha, the only female among them, she was licking something unidentifiable that might have been a child’s brain, watching Axel with half-interest, half-disgust.

Axel sat in silence, without comment, and reached out to his followers, who brought with them a large dish covered by a silver lid. When the lid was lifted, a soft aromatic steam escaped, revealing the meal: cooked meat with "Kalis hot" spices, a mixture of mashed and fried Shiro vegetables in oil, a dessert of Linax fruits coated in concentrated sugar, and finally, an herbal soup that calmed the nerves and stimulated the mind.

"What is this?" said Siriantha with a hesitant voice. "Did... did you cook your food?"

Axel replied as he cut a small piece of meat with a silver knife: "I had it cooked. I added my touches."

Dirus laughed, while his second head began crying louder. "You’re pretending to be human, Axel! We’re Arkanis... not farmers eating herbs!"

Golerath said, throwing aside the bone he had finished: "Tell me, have you gone vegetarian? Or did one of your followers cure your brain of our curse?"

Axel chewed quietly, then wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin. "No one chooses their birth. But we choose our actions. You eat your meat with lust. I eat mine with taste."

Siriantha raised an eyebrow, bringing her mouth close to something still pulsing: "You’re strange. But you’re effective. That’s why you remain."

Then a faint metallic bell rang. It was the announcement of the official start of the meeting.

The others continued their meals, each in their own way, while Axel finished his dish, took a sip of the herbal soup, and looked toward the center.

The silence filled the hall for a few seconds, before it was broken.

Gulirath, laying out a deformed map on the table drawn on the skin of a still-living creature squirming beneath it said:

"The attack on the region of Ozria will commence after the Blue Moon is complete. The herd there has begun to weaken, and the fortresses are crumbling. We can sneak in and devour before their tribes awaken."

Diros, his laughing head said:

"Good... more flesh... more voices..."

While the crying head muttered:

"The flesh... the flesh weeps... don’t feed it... don’t feed it..."

But none of those present cared for the second head.

Siriantha said coldly:

"Our leaders above want to destabilize the balance. The goal is not just conquest, but the spread of chaos. Weakness is growing on the surface... and the time will come to cross. We just need to delay them."

One of her eyeless followers presented her with a plate holding a still-beating heart. She sliced a piece with her long nails and said while chewing:

"Chaos is the most beautiful infection." 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

All that time, Axel did not say a word. His eyes half-closed, watching the map, calculating the routes, imagining the scent of the land they planned to crush.

But he did not speak. He did not mock. He did not oppose. He did not approve.

And when the discussion ended, and only bones remained, Siriantha raised her hand, announcing the end of the meeting. Everyone stood up slowly, each returning to their place. And Axel... he rose quietly, adjusted his coat, and walked out of the hall without looking back.

The Den of Curses

The atmosphere there was different. No air to breathe, only pressure. The walls were smooth, as if made of pulsing flesh, and the ceiling breathed in a heavy wave. The light was dark red, as if emitted from a faint artery, and everything resembled a corrupted womb.

In the center of the hall stood the Mother of Curses.

She was whispering to a massive bowl of bones and blood, as if trying to create something new.

No pulse... no scream... no mind...

Rise, O child of the curse... rise!

But the body that began forming in the red liquid trembled, then burst into a putrid, oozing mess.

She failed... again.

Axel entered without asking permission. His steps made no sound, but the Mother of Curses felt him, the way a heart feels a contraction in a moment of tension.

He said in a deadly calm, as usual:

"You will never succeed."

She turned toward him, her eyes igniting with flames of no color.

"Your creation took centuries... I thought it impossible, but I did it. And I can do it again."

She stepped toward him, her steps inaudible, but the air around her grew heavier.

"You are the product of my imagination, Axel. A mixture of dream and nightmare. But you forgot... that every puppet has its string in the hand of its maker."

He didn’t reply. He just looked at her... as if his gaze was mockery.

Suddenly, a wave burst from her it was pure pressure, as if forged from the gravity of a dead star. The walls trembled. The ground arched. Even the air fled.

Axel did not move.

His body compressed for a second, then returned to normal, as if nothing had happened. His eyes didn’t blink, and his face showed nothing but that indifference that drives anyone insane.

She stepped closer, whispered in a sharp tone:

"You are my puppet, whether you like it or not. And a puppet like this... must obey."

A long silence... before Axel lowered his head slightly not in submission, but as if giving her one last chance to retreat from her madness.

Then he whispered within himself, without letting her hear:

"I am not a puppet... I am your greatest mistake... and I always will be."