Unmade Chapter 17: Chapter 17: a angel

Read chapter 17 of Unmade by churro on NovelPedia.

In a vast realm of crimson waters and a pale, lifeless sky, five dark suns orbited their single prisoner. But now, those suns no longer shone upon the bloody sea. They hung instead beneath a towering mist, black and impenetrable, a darkness so dense that even their light could not pierce it. The mist had consumed everything, the prisoner and his student alike. Hidden from the eyes of the suns, none could know how this event would unfold. Vale stood within that endless darkness. The air was thick and suffocating, almost liquid. He peered ahead, narrowing his eyes, but he could see no farther than a few meters. Beyond that, there was only shifting shadow, a darkness that swallowed distance itself. After a moment, he sighed softly and gave up. Beneath him, three small creatures stirred, his companions. A white cat, its fur faintly luminescent. A crimson centipede, its carapace pulsing like a living ember. And a deep black lizard, whose eyes shimmered like obsidian mirrors. They were climbing up his legs now, seeking the safety of his shoulders. Even in this suffocating void, their presence felt sharp and alive, beings of immense, contained power. Vale’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade. He turned toward where the chained man had stood only moments ago. “Heh… what exactly will hap-pen?” His voice faltered. There was no one to answer. The man had been only a few steps away, but now the space he had occupied was empty, utterly erased, as though the mist had claimed him whole, leaving not even a trace. Vale frowned, his expression wary, his eyes fixed on the empty air. The creatures on his shoulders began to hiss, all three at once. Their bodies tensed, their gazes locked on the darkness around them. And then, a voice spoke. “My, my… is that the way you greet a friend of your creator, little Eidolons?” The sound froze Vale where he stood. It was deep, incredibly deep, a voice that seemed to crawl out of the air itself. It carried the hollow timbre of something long dead, as though a corpse had been made to speak through rotting cords. Vale spun, scanning the mist. But there was no one there. The voice didn’t come from any direction at all. It came from everywhere, from the mist itself. “Who… no. What are you?” he asked, a cold bead of sweat running down his temple. The voice gasped, audibly startled. “What? There is a sixth being among you? Impossible. You are not like the others… not an Eidolon.” Silence hung for a moment before the voice returned, quieter now, as if thinking aloud. “For his sake… you don’t even possess a signature. How can you possibly speak? How do you exist?” The words struck Vale like a faint echo of something he’d heard before. He’d been told, more than once, that his very existence felt wrong. That something about him was missing. But what did it mean to lack a “signature”? He clenched his jaw. “Answer my question,” he said sharply, eyes darting through the shifting haze. “What are you?” For a few long seconds, there was no sound but the distant hum of the mist. Then the voice returned, softer now, almost… regretful. “What am I?” it repeated. “I ask myself that question often as well. Perhaps I’ve forgotten, as time passed.” There was a hint of sorrow in that hoarse, inhuman tone. Vale wanted to respond, but found he couldn’t think, literally couldn’t. His mind felt muffled, his thoughts smothered by the weight of the mist. “Do not worry, little human,” the voice said, as if sensing his unease. “I have no intention of harming you. I came for your companion, your ‘roommate,’ as you call him. I have important news to deliver.” Its tone shifted suddenly, a flicker of amusement. “I know. How about I take a physical shape? Perhaps that will calm you.” Vale barely had time to react before the darkness rippled. From the mist, a shape emerged, faint at first, then solidifying into the form of a man. His eyes were veiled in shadow, invisible even in the faint crimson light. His hair was pure white, his sk