The Starlight Lancer

Chapter Sixty-Five: Disciple of the Eldritch

"Wander too far into darkness and your way will be lost forever. There is no escape from the shadowy path once embarked upon."

—Ilgras Mastia, former Grand Vizier of the Church of Qualmad, in a proclamation on the Temple of Fialgon

Zaina took a step back. "Ovela—what's going on? This—tell me this wasn't you!"

"I'll tell you what's really going on," Ovela said, stalking toward Zaina with a heretic's fang in hand. "I may never be able to be a lancer again—but I can be something better than a nobody."

Disbelief laced Zaina's words as she shouted, "You're—it really is you. It was you the whole time!"

"That's right." Ovela gestured toward the orb and said, "And now, you have unfinished business."

Zaina put more distance between herself and Ovela. To stall, she kept asking questions. "Why—why did you kill Ardo Nash?"

Ovela kept walking slowly toward her. "Ardo Nash—that fool—wanted to study the stone's power, but didn't want to let it in. No—I went to the orb to receive its blessing at night. I was told I'd be alone with it. Nash interrupted us to study his precious Order's most ancient enemy—at that moment, his fate was sealed."

Zaina kept backing up. "And Yla Fidabow?"

Ovela winced. "That one wasn't supposed to happen, either; but she noticed my mark and gave me no choice. I killed her and ran, knowing the Eldritch's power would mask my presence. Luckily, the scholars were stupid enough to buy that woman being the killer—they were so happy to sweep it under the rug, to have someone easy to blame, that my mistake didn't end up mattering. They were so quick to overlook me—a mere attendant—that in their transcendent wisdom, they fell for a cheap trick." She pulled the collar of her shirt to one side, revealing the Mark of the Recalcitrant on her collarbone. "See, Zaina? I'm just like you now. Soon we won't have to hide. Sooner than I thought, even—once I heard they were taking the orb to the Sky Vault, my plans had to accelerate."

Zaina gulped. That's right—Ovela was there when the scholars discussed that.

To keep her talking, Zaina asked, "And my hut—scratching at it at night? What did you hope to accomplish then?"

Ovela smiled. "I wanted to get you alone—to bring you here. But your mentor stopped you before you reached my trap. All too unfortunate—though I suppose it's doubly convenient now that she's gone. Why she would side against her own kind, I don't know."

"Ovela," Zaina said, her back nearly against the far wall—she was running out of space. It took all her concentration to resist the pull of the whispers, much less talk her friend down, but she persisted. "Ovela, this isn't you. I know you—you're a lancer. A good person—"

"I was a lancer once," Ovela replied. "But then my gifts were taken from me. They say Riiva is wise, but really, it's cruel. So I found new gifts. Oh, Zaina, can't you feel it—can't you hear the whispers?"

Zaina winced. They were growing stronger, emanating from the Eldritch's orb, offering her everything she could ever possibly want: eternal life for her and her family, a lifetime of happy memories, a peaceful existence free of strife—

"Come, Zaina," Ovela said, extending a hand. Her voice was deeper now, speaking in unison with a darker voice within. "Take the orb—become the new Eldritch. You will be the inheritor of cosmic power, and I will be your faithful servant until the end of time."

"Wh-what? That's what this—that's why you're doing this? To help that thing find its new host?"

She didn't know if she was a match for a heretic, even a new one—Ovela seemed different than Beni. She seemed more herself, but still gone—lost in the madness of the shadow's power.