The children of the Crimson Mist finally settled, having traveled as far as they could from Marcus. They rested on the forest floor, shrouded in the ever-present haze.
“Do you think we’re far enough away?” a soft voice asked from within the mist.
“Yes, Lisa,” another replied.
“I can’t believe Father thought he killed Kella so easily,” Lisa said. Within the mist, their voices carried freely, untouched by the outside world.
A young boy named Reggie chimed in, “Master said one of us had to die. Father needs to feed Master pain.”
Tina, a quiet girl, whispered, “Does that mean any of us could die for Master’s pain?”
“I don’t like it when Master talks like Father’s wife,” Paris said hesitantly. “When Master speaks like Father’s child, it feels... safer.”
Lisa shook her head slowly. “Did you see how hurt Father was when he saw what we did to Kella?”
There was a long silence.
And then, one by one, they began to giggle, soft at first, then louder, as the mist around them thickened like a curtain drawn to hide something terrible.
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“I say we go back to Father. I feel bad lying to him,” said a boy named Stew, glancing nervously through the mist.
“We can’t go back yet!” Paris snapped. “I say we go find some people and play with them!”
The other children giggled and cheered in agreement.
But before they could move, a voice cut through the mist like a blade.
“Children.”
The Crimson Mist fell instantly silent.
They knew that voice. And they feared it.
“Yes, Master,” they responded as one.
“Do not stray from your mission. Marcus Obsidian must feed me,” the voice commanded.
“We will follow your orders, Master Annihilation,” the children chanted in eerie unison.
“He must be ready when he kills the Harbinger,” the voice continued, colder now, hungry. “I need you to lead him to the town of River Hallow. Torture every step he takes. Call out to him. Make sure he feels nothing but pain. Break whatever is left of his heart.”
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The children cheered with glee at the thought of breaking their Father's heart—all except Stew, who simply smiled. He didn’t like hurting Father, but he knew defying Master would be worse.
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“We can kill another one of us! That should really hurt him!” Paris squealed, wringing her hands together as she pictured the tears streaming down Marcus’ face.
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Then, the voice of Annihilation returned—cold and final.
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“No... no more killing each other. Lead him to River Hallow. You must all be there for my ascension.”
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The weight of that command settled over them like a storm cloud. The children could feel the threat buried in its silence.
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“Yes, Master!” they cried in unison.
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When the force lifted from their minds, they turned and began their journey back to where they had left Marcus.
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----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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"What the hell is taking them so long?!" Tyler barked. It had been days since he’d sent Father Eli with the message. "Surely they got the damn thing by now." His voice cracked with equal parts frustration and disbelief. He turned to one of the corrupted townsfolk, throwing his hands up. "Seriously, what’s the holdup? Plot momentum?"
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The woman lowered her head. "No, my Master."
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Tyler sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For the hundredth time, call me by my full name," he grumbled, exhaustion creeping into his theatrics. "Are there no competent people left on this godforsaken dirtball?"
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"Sorry… no, I have no idea, Lord Grand Marshal of Annihilation, Champion of Darkness, and Wielder of a Thousand Handkerchiefs,"** the woman replied flatly.
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He stared at her for a long moment.
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"You're mocking me."
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"Only a little, my Sovereign of Slightly Overwritten Titles."
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Tyler slowly turned his head, eyes narrowing. "Did I give you permission to be a smartass?" he snapped, dabbing his brow with one of his many handkerchiefs, this one embroidered with little skulls.
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Another corrupted soul approached, head bowed. "We've lost contact with the two you sent to capture the girl. Elle."
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Tyler rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they stayed in his skull. "And now this. Brilliant." He tapped his forehead with two fingers, as if trying to keep his patience from escaping. "Is there a bottom to this well of incompetence, or are we just free-falling forever?"
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He let out a growl of frustration. "If the next person who speaks to me says anything other than 'we fixed it….I swear…I will throw you off that waterfall. Personally."
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He pointed down toward the dry, cracked lakebed below. "I'm out here trying to do great things. Monumental things. Evil with style. Is it really too much to ask that it be taken seriously?!"
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Just as Tyler finished his rant, another corrupted soul stepped forward and spoke in a flat tone, "Lord Grand Marshal, Champion of Darkness, and Wielder of a Thousand Handkerchiefs."
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Tyler stared at him, utterly drained. "You know what? I’ll just take the compliment." He walked up to the man, eyes narrowed. "Your next words..." he said, leaving the threat unfinished—but unmistakable.
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The man didn’t flinch. "A patrol you sent to find out why the Church is taking so long to arrive... has returned."
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Tyler’s eyes lit up with a flicker of hope—only to immediately dampen under the weight of today's repeated disappointments. "And the bad news is?" he asked, already bracing for it.
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The man blinked slowly. "They found something."
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Tyler nodded, trying to stay calm. "I'm glad they found something... Now, what is this something?" His tone betrayed his irritation, as if speaking to a group of particularly dim children.
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The man nodded back, a little too eagerly. "Yes, Lord Grand Marsha—"
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Tyler smacked him across the head.
"Just tell me, damn it!" he shouted.
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The man flinched, then said, "They found... a moose."
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Silence.
Tyler stood there, frozen. Rage simmered behind his eyes. The only action he could manage without losing total control was to blink. Slowly. A few times.
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The corrupted man, unsure what to do, hesitated—then cautiously repeated himself.
"I said... they found a moose."
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Tyler closed his eyes, as if willing reality to reset. "No, I heard you say it was a moose." He took a deep breath. "Let me guess—did the moose bake them cookies and break into song?! Huh?!"
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"No, Lord Grand... ahem—Tyler," the man corrected himself, now visibly sweating. "It did not bake anything."
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"Why are you telling me this if the damn thing didn't do anything?!" Tyler could feel the rage overtake his control.
"They said…the Moose spoke to them." the man said.
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Tyler pressed a handkerchief to his lips, staring blankly into the distance. "Are the people of Silver Falls... fluent in Moose?" He couldn’t believe the words had left his own mouth. "What the hell does moo moo mean in Moose?!"
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"I don’t think a moose goes moo moo..." the woman from earlier offered timidly.
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The other man nodded. "It’s more like a series of grunts."
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Tyler slowly turned his head, watching with hollow disbelief as the two began what could only be described as a very serious debate on moose linguistics.
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"Not just grunts," the woman insisted. "There’s definitely some kind of call it makes."
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Tyler exhaled slowly, dangerously calm.
"Both of you..." His voice dripped with venom. "Go jump off the waterfall. Now."
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Without another word, the two turned and began to carry out his command. Tyler turned his gaze to the messenger, handkerchief still in hand, as if hoping the next report wouldn’t drive him further into madness.
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"The moose told them that the little girl, Elle, and Eric are being protected. They should turn back now," the man said flatly.
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For a moment, Tyler actually considered it.
"Naturally. When a moose tells you to back off, you should do so."
He exhaled a long, tired breath. "Can you imagine? I’ve walked this world for thousands of years," he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. "I’ve watched empires rise and fall. I’ve killed more people than I care to count..."
He shook his head slowly, hands falling to his sides. "If only a moose had told me to change my ways sooner... I might've lived a better life."
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He turned to the man again. Tyler wanted to scream—truly—but it just wasn’t worth the effort.
"Bring me the ones who were on that patrol," he ordered.
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Thud!
Thud!
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Tyler turned toward the sound. Two bodies hit the rocks at the base of the waterfall.
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He blinked once.
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"Well... at least something went right today."
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