Chapter 43 - Demonic Knight, part 8

She was still alive. Elysia repeated that phrase to herself like a mantra.

She had passed through the terror and out the other side, and her enemies, the monsters who had wanted to kill her, were dead. And she was still there to feel the sun, draw in her lungs, and watch Frey and Kat as they moved cautiously down the hill, putting their feet on the stones that protruded from the mud of the steep, slippery path.

Her senses had been heightened and she felt more alive and energized than ever; it was as if she had leveled up. It was just a delight to be the sensation.

Cobwebs glittered with drops of early morning dew, birds sang, and everywhere the bustle of life filled the forest. Small animals moved through the undergrowth, and Elysia paused to let a snake cross the path without making any attempt to kill it. That morning she had a clear notion of how precious and fragile life was.

The fight with the beastmen had made him understand how precariously he clung to life, how easy it was to cut the rope that held him in existence. She could have been the one lying in a cold, unmarked grave, or filling a beastman's stomach; or more likely as Frey had explained to her after the battle, used for the beastmen to mate with her, because being a half-human female (who were in heat all year round) and half-beastman, she was a magnet for males.

The difference between life and death was marked by a bit of luck, a bit of skill and the correct use of the sword, since everything could have turned out very differently. Had she made a single mistake, she might no longer be there to enjoy that glorious morning. She could be wandering in the gray misty realm of the realm of death, or slipping into unconsciousness, which some scholars believed was the only thing after death.

She knew that thought should have made her afraid, but she didn't. At that precise time and place, she was too happy. She mentally went over each blow of the fight and remembered the movements almost lovingly. She felt excited; she had faced powerful enemies and had managed to win, so that day the forest could not scare her.

She understood that this feeling was artificial, for she had felt something like it many times after the fight, and she knew that she would fade to be replaced by horror and guilt at what she had done; but she could help it for the time being. She was forced to admit that she had, in a strange way, enjoyed the battle. Her violence had appealed to a dark part of her personality, a part she usually kept hidden, even from herself. For a moment, she thought she could almost understand the followers of the dark god of anger and violence, Baal, who were addicted to bloodshed, combat, and emotion. It was impossible for there to be a greater emotion than risking one's life. There was no higher stake, except, perhaps, the risk of the soul.

That idea made her reflect, for she realized that her thoughts had been leading him down the path of sin. Perhaps all those who had sold themselves to the Evil Powers had begun in the same way, indulging in their own dark side. She had already seen where that path led, so she let his mind drift.

Further on, Frey stopped to inspect some footprints in the mud. Elysia speculated that perhaps her mate was too addicted to battle and perhaps that was why she had this peculiar calling: possibly doing it for her own gratification. Why else could anyone follow such a strange path that led down such dark paths? Perhaps the dark hero's motives were less noble than he claimed.

The cat girl sighed at the thought that she would never know. Frey was a stranger to her, the product of a different society, with a different ethical code than her own, perhaps even with different images of the world seen through different senses. She doubted that she would ever manage to understand Frey, since, every time she felt that she was close to achieving it, understanding of her eluded her. The dark hero was different, strong in ways Elysia could never sharpen, brave beyond sanity, and seemingly unaware of pain and fatigue.

Was that why Elysia was following him? Because she admired him and she wanted to be like him? To have his certainty and his strength? Of course, her life would have been very different if that night in Riverheim she had not made a promise to follow the dark hero. She might have been happier, though, on the other hand, she wouldn't have seen half the things she had seen, for better or worse. At times, the dark hero seemed like his own personal demon, sent to turn his life upside down and lead him into darkness.

He walked cautiously down the slope and watched where he put his feet; he felt the hard rocks through the thin leather soles of his boots. Reaching the bottom of the hill, she saw what Frey and Kat were looking at. The path forked into two branches and on the right there was a sign; It wasn't the usual stone slab placed to mark the paths of the Empire, it was a sign found at the intersections of the Kingdom, a simple piece of a tree trunk. Elysia read what she had written.

"So in a couple of hours we'll be in Flensburg," she commented.

"Only if the town is still standing, catgirl," Frey replied, and spat.

"I wish he were as brave as you, Elysia!" Kat said.

Catgirl looked around the clear clearing. There the forest was thinner and there were signs of deforestation, for the ground was strewn with tree stumps around which tangled vegetation grew. Here and there were saplings, and a faint scent of freshly cut wood hung in the air. In the distance she thought she heard the roar of a river, and high up, through the gaps in the trees, the sky was bright, clean and blue. However, all could see in the distance to the east, great storm clouds were forming. The clouds piled on top of each other like huge insubstantial mountains that moved closer and closer to them. It was another bad omen.

He looked down at the girl and saw that her soot-smeared face had a serious expression.

"What have you said?"

"I said that I would like to be as brave as you."

Hearing that, she burst out laughing. Something about her openness and obvious desire to like her touched him.

"I am not brave."

"Yes you are. You were brave to fight against those beasts… It was something like what the hero of a fairy tale would do."

She tried to imagine herself as the heroine of one of the sagas she had heard about in her childhood; as the legendary hero Buster, who must defeat the evil Arch Dark Magician Rubert Schröder. For some reason, she didn't quite make it, because she knew herself too well. These men had been like gods, without blemish. Heroes like them never knew fear, doubt, or venality.

She "she was scared; she was just trying to stay alive. I'm not brave… Frey is; him if he is a true Hero." But Kat shook her head determinedly.

"Mr. Frey is, but so are you. You were afraid and, despite that, you fought. I think he is your way of being brave."

The girl was dead serious, and Elysia found it amusing and not unflattering.

"No one has ever told me that before."

Kat turned and pouted, as she thought the catgirl was laughing at her.

"Well, I still think you're brave, and I don't care what anyone else says."

Elysia straightened up and pulled her cloak closer around her. She was strange… she had gotten used to regarding Frey as the hero of an epic tale whose adventures she Elysia intended to write about. Until now, she had never imagined herself as part of that novel. She had always seen herself more as an unseen observer, a chronicler of the hero's deeds, whom she did not mention in the text. Perhaps the girl was right; she maybe she too she should devote some space to her own adventures.

'The legend of Frey and Elysia.' No… The Adventures of the Dark Hero, by Elysia. He could picture the leather-bound book, written in immaculate Gothic-type letters. Of course, the work would be written in common, since it would be a popular volume. The arcane tongue she had learned from Frey was too prim, the language of scholars, magicians, and priests. Perhaps it would be read throughout the known world, and she would become a famous figure.

It would include all of her various adventures, like the destruction of the coven during the Night of Nightmares and her skirmishes with the wolf riders in the mountains. All the events leading up to the destruction of Fort Von Deyl. She would also chronicle her adventures in the darkness below the world, her battles with the horned man, and her journey through the plague pits below Riverheim.

She tried to imagine how she would present herself in the story… Of course, she would be brave, loyal and modest; but reality began to interfere with her reverie almost immediately. Brave? Perhaps. She had faced some terrifying situations without dishonor. Loyal? If she stayed with the dark hero to the end, she certainly would be. Modest? Unlikely since to what extent was it modest to introduce oneself into the epic story of another person's adventures? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. She would have to wait to see what happened.

"If you're not a hero, I'm sure Mr. Frey is. Why are you traveling with him?

"Why do you ask such difficult questions to answer, little one?" Elysia inquired hoping that Frey couldn't hear her, since he had moved ahead through the clearing, deep in his own stern thoughts.

"That's a hard question." Elysia thought. Why was he following the dark hero? The simplest answer was that she had made a promise. She had become engaged that night after Frey saved her from that unfortunate event with the Ratfolks in the Riverheim sewers, she was honor-bound to keep that promise, as she owed Frey her life.

She had initially thought that was why she stayed with Frey, but then she had another theory.

Frey's company had fueled the fire in her heart, although they knew they were not a normal couple, Elysia knew that she had some kind of sentimental bond with Frey, she was attracted to his strength and bravery. Frey had offered her the perfect excuse to go on adventures, see remote places and obscure things that interested and excited her. Since then, she had led an extraordinary life, not unlike the existence of a saga hero. She no longer knew what she was going to do if she stopped traveling with Frey, as she couldn't imagine her returning to her former lifestyle.

"Damn me if it's true" she finally answered. "But I think I am in love."