Constantine Nikeodemos 7 - Delicious Lies
Out of all the difficulties lingering in late Heavenstages entailed, being 'voluntold' for specific, bizarre assignments was probably Constantine's least favorite.
Normally, the man could expect an entirely rational amount of coddling. As a scion of House Nikeodemos, a talent of incredible potential, and the aide to the Prince's Legion, Constantine could typically be sure it was within his means to avoid any overly arduous work. The power of a readily accessible slush fund, assiduous delegation to the ambitious and foolish, and his long-practiced skill at rat-fucking honed from escaping the Nikeodemos Manor and surviving the Legions had proven sufficient to dodge arrows of danger and duty. With all his efforts combined, in a good year, he could enjoy a magnificently comfortable existence.
But not always. Hence, Constantine's current great honor, a task fit only for the finest of the Clan's qi laggards: to hike a targeting stone through a defense that'd kill anyone under the 12th Heavenstage.
He was thrilled,
truly, but despite his frantic efforts, Constantine could not wrangle up another "volunteer" that fit the absurd criteria before the time came to march. Damn his contacts! What was the point of greasing the wheels of bureaucracy when they barely gave you a week's warning ahead of your official assignment? The civil service never failed to confound him, so eager to receive "gifts" and so lax in returning gratitude! For shame!
Such was the first hour of his hike spent, grousing about lousy administrators and wasted bribery. There were certainly worse ways to spend your time, such as dwelling on the omnipresent pulses of the Curse, testing his defenses like the rhythmic drops of falling water, or the chilling fear that wound through his guts – a wretchedly familiar companion. During his brief but memorable participation in the Poison Crushing Siege, terror had been a constant companion of Constantine. You didn't get used to the soul-crushing horror of the imminence of death when in a properly dangerous zone, and anyone who claimed so was either a bald-faced liar or an actual lunatic. But Constantine had spent his entire life playing cards for all he had to give, and he understood one truth above all others: you never, ever let it show you were sweating.
So he marched on with a straight back and a tuneless whistle, banner flapping proudly in the air and armor gleaming with keen promise. For he was a scion of the Emperor's Greatest – to do anything less was beneath him.
The ambush came during the second hour, once even his highly strung nerves had begun to wane. Constantine valued his life very highly, but there was simply only so long you could maintain vigilance before boredom and exhaustion took their toll. There was practically nothing to see on the Dying Curse Peak, which was aptly named; no life, not even the smallest blade of grass, persisted on its rocky cliffs and hills, which made the appearance of a man sitting on one as if he'd all the time in the world all the more jarring.
If the foe had set up a proper sightline, he would've had the scion dead to rights, but instead, the stranger seemed content to perch and watch the Golden Devil approach with a distinctly serpentine patience. They were barely dressed, cloaked in a green tunic that hardly left the man modest, yet bore no reaction to the harsh wind blowing through the peaks - even his jet black hair wasn't lifted, as if the man were merely a poor illusion. It was distinctly unsettling, truth be told, but Constantine figured he wasn't lucky enough for hallucinations to be already setting in. Still, two could play at a game like this.
"Salve, stranger! Enjoying the view?" He called out, waving idly, as if they were travellers passing by on a dirt path.
"Indeed." The man hissed, making no effort to stand. His legs dangled off the cliff's edge as he stared down at Constantine, utterly still. Even his chest did not rise to take breath. "It had been many decades since the last morsel was foolish enough to venture into Jinshi Shigu's grasp, let alone one so delectable." Finally, the man releases a disturbing shudder of pleasure, inhaling deeply while rolling his eyes back. When they finally return, it bears a poison-green hue and reptilian slit to go along with the bloodless smile stretching across the creature's face. "Your demise will be
immaculate, morsel. So promises Jinshi Shigu."
"Okay, we can do this too." Constantine sighed. "Can you at least cover up a little more before we-"
Jinshi moved faster than the scion could blink. One moment, he lounged at the top of the cliff - the next, he uncoiled with inhuman speed, dagger at Constantine's throat, barely leaving a scratch on his gorget.
They stared at each other for several long moments, even the ever-present howling of the Peak's wind pausing with the tension. But the seconds dripped by without movement until the Golden Devil finally raised an eyebrow.
"... Did you think that would work?" Constantine says with a touch of mockery. He hadn't even flinched—such was his confidence in the Panopoly of House Nikeodemos, which had seen him through the Poison-Crushing Siege without a scratch, no matter what insanity that hellhole threw at them.
"You have the eyes of prey, morsel," Jinshi whispers back, practically leaning on the scion's armored form, although never quite touching him at any point. "Fear lies behind them. I can
taste it." He finally leans back, as if utterly unafraid of any retaliation Constantine might make. "You cannot lie to Jinshi Shugi forever. I will flay them from you, inch by inch, hour by hour, and feast upon the marrow of your soul."
"You sure love the sound of your own voice, vermin." The Golden Devil scowls, unsheathing his blade threateningly. This presumptuous creature - who did it think it was threatening? He'd seen more intimidating wordplay from his six-year-old daughter, that harridan. "Now flee, before I silence it forev-!"
Pain lanced out instantly, harsh and blinding. He staggered back, swinging at Jinshi with enough speed to tear the air, but the creature merely slithered back, fresh blood dripping from its blade. Constantine's arm darted to his side where he'd been stabbed, but to his shock, his armor remained pristine, even as pain radiated from within.
"Delicious." Shigu thrilled as he licked his blade clean with a forked tongue, shuddering once again with unchaste pleasure. "Pride and cowardice, a delectable combination! I will devour it all, leave you not but a husk, until not even the unworthiest dregs of your
anima remain
, Constantine!" Unable to resist, the creature lunges again - but this time, his blade rings against the golden devil's armor.
"You should do a better job of disguising your gimmick." He grunts, standing up straight even as his blood slowly seeps down his thigh. "Scions of House Nikeodemos do not succumb to one-trick ponies. It is beneath our dignity." Constantine pronounces with utter confidence, pushing the devouring creature away. Jinshu hisses with rage and disappointment before withdrawing into the very shadow of the cliff, seemingly disappearing in the process. Only its voice lingers, as the scion blinks in surprise.
"You think yourself brave, morsel?" It taunts, voice taking on an ethereal echo. "We will see if you possess such bravado when you've reached the Peak, and your very life ebbs between your fingers like grains of sand. This, Jinshi Shigu promises."
***
After that point, things went predictably. For all the creature talked a big game, once Constantine figured out its trick, it was a toothless snake, more annoying than dangerous. Throughout the rest of his journey, he'd be harassed, ambushed, and startled by Jinshi, who would perpetually try to elicit some sort of reaction from the intruder. But Constantine merely marched onward, ignoring whatever false hazards were thrown at him, confident that even if he were being fooled by a real one, his Panopoly would ensure his survival. And the creature could do nothing against that blithe self-assurance in his ancestral gift.
Finally, Constantine reached his goal - a pre-planned location for a Glass Spear Array's targeting stone. Plopping the token on a raised dias at the very top of an unnaturally raised plateau, Constantine turned to leave, ready for this particularly tiresome assignment to be over. But to his lack of surprise, there stood Jinshi Shigu, seemingly appeared from thin air, and obstructing his exit.
"I cannot let you go," it hissed, intently staring at Constantine with an emotion he could not quickly parse. Hate? Hunger? Arousal? Frankly, he did not want to know.
"Bother someone who cares, creature." He contemptuously dismissed. "I have a hot bath and a good book waiting for me at camp, so-"
"No. No! I will not be denied this, morsel!" Jinshi suddenly roared, his form beginning to flicker, as if disintegrating by the sheer force of the creature's hateful desire.
"I … will … FEAST." It whispered/roared/wept, and then, instantly, the flickering ceased into a single perfect frame.
Constantine raised his shield immediately, his instincts suddenly screaming of danger, but it was for naught - the creature struck him squarely in the chest, sending the golden devil flying. He'd barely landed before Jinshi was on him again, face a rictus of maddened desire, dagger wholly discarded. Instead, it merely struck Constantine again and again with its bare fists, beating the man within an inch of his life. His panoply remained utterly pristine, but the creature attacked with a force beyond the physical, attempting to rip out his prey's very soul.
But it wasn't enough! The coward, the hypocrite, the lair—he clung to life, refusing to succumb! Jinshi hissed with rage, clutching his hands into a single fist. He raised them into the air in preparation for a single, final strike of such ferocity and venom to finally end this farce.
The moment before he struck, Jinshi caught a flicker of Constantine's eye through the eye slit of his helm. There was not a flicker of hubris, fear, or contempt in that gaze, even as blood freely ran down his brow. At that moment, all that was facetious about Constantine had been sheared away, leaving only the true.
"Bring it on," the scion wetly chuckled, glaring up at the creature defiantly. Jinshi let out a deafening scream of utter despair and struck the prostrate golden devil as hard as he could—but his prepared strike disappeared into nothingness the moment it made contact.
It transformed into a seductive woman, crooned and whispered to Constantine of the infinite pleasures it could offer if he merely surrendered, but to no avail.
It transformed into an ancient tortoise, spoke of ancient sights and impossible wisdom it could reveal if he merely submitted, but to no avail.
It transformed into a snarling wolf, and promised an eternity of suffering, of being trapped on the Dying Curse Peak until the Turtle World succumbed to entropy, of an eternity of endless hunger, but to no avail.
Its final transformation was into a long piece of paper that twisted in the wind and drifted to the ground in front of Constantine, and in its final whispers, Jinshi Shigu spoke his first truth, and swore eternal submission to Constantine Nikeodemos as heir to its progenitor.
"... a Curse crafted by the Elder Komnenos?" He eventually incredulously asked, reading over the seemingly sentient document. "Are you for real - is there
anything we weren't involved in?"
***
Word Count: 2k
