Shadow of the Abyss

"You've gotten better," Iliana was saying, one foot pressed over Altair's heaving chest. "It's not bad, but you're not using your Omniscience optimally; you can't keep using it in pulses."

Altair could only growl, unsure how to explain that he wasn't actually using his omniscience in pulses.

Securitizing Atlairs face, Iliana took her foot off his chest. Those dark scarlet eyes, quivering ever so slightly. Excitement? Her gaze had been like that since yesterday. It hardly mattered anymore. Altair had given up trying to comprehend Iliana— he was better off trying to comprehend madness—the woman was crazy.

If not for her lack of ambition, he was sure this one woman might be the most dangerous creature in the Myriad Heavens. Not the Abyss; there were too many things in the Abyss that scared her shitless, as she said. Altair couldn't imagine it, though Iliana said that he couldn't imagine much, that his mind was limited to a fixed dimensional plane of existence.

Still, he could not say he had not learned anything. Altair was sure if he fought himself from six months ago, the battle would be over in five moves. Less if his counterpart didn't pay attention. It was still hardly enough to defeat the Vale King.

"Your battle prowess is acceptable." A proper compliment if he thought about it. "So you'll not humiliate me if it's announced."

Despite his exhaustion, Altair instantly stood erect. "Excuse me!" He did not mean to shout, but her words Were simply too vague.

"Yup. I talked to The Empress, and she has agreed to proclaim you my disciple before all the Abyss and Myriad. It should be happening in about a week."

Altair felt the world suddenly crack like glass. "M-M-Master," he tried sounding respectful, but even he found that nearly impossible. "Why am I learning about this now?"

"Well, the Empress asked me about you… what was it two months ago? And I told her everything. She nodded and said she would proclaim you my disciple."

The woman was mad, and Altair wanted to puke. He could hardly scheme, much less reach the fifty Floor of Babel's Tower if he died to some madman with a vendetta. It seemed almost comical.

"you'll do fine!" she assured him, though her voice did little to ease the tension in his shoulders. The woman was mad!

You'd see me die before—" Altair had not finished before he got knocked back with a flick of Iliana's finger. Hells, did he hate when she did that; the woman simply had no class.

There had been nothing worse than a flick from Iliana's finger— the woman had the hands of a man—though he would never tell her that, not if he wished to keep his head. The emblazoned wound from Iliana's finger was much like a slow burn that refused to fade. No matter how much he called forth Ashen Blood, there was nothing he could do to mend that injury until it faded. Intent control, she called it.

"You've gotten leagues stronger than before. That said, be more aware of what you do. My enemies are plentiful."

Altair could imagine, from what he could gather. Iliana rarely killed her enemies. She enjoyed watching them try, taking away something precious each time they struck to kill. It amused her or rather filled her with hope that one day, she would meet or create a worthy adversary. That reason alone was Why the Empress, Lilith, never gave her a proper title in the abyss aside from Abyssal General.

The woman was crazy.

Altair grimaced, throwing his hands into the air. "fuck it. Why don't I also expose who my father is as well."

"oh? Did he finally tell you?" Iliana asked, and Altair couldn't be sure if she were joking. It certainly wasn't funny. So why was she smiling?

He suddenly began to pale. "Are you serious?"

"I'm rather curious to see what your… masters"—Altair touched the Brand of Cain on his shoulder—" will do. It all makes me so wet."

Fist clenching, he forced himself to sigh. Those stronger than him were always going to do whatever they wanted versus what he wanted.
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"Let's go," Iliana finally said, clasping one arm around Altair. The world gave a shift without any sort of give whether they had moved or if the world had to complement their travel, but faster than he could blink, the familiar carriage walls entered his vision.

"I'll check in periodically. I've most make preparation for the Ball on Genisis," she added, and before Altair could question her by what she meant, the woman vanished once more. For a woman that had zero responsibility, she certainly got around a lot. Snorting, Altair left Iliana's carriage, ignoring the dozen pairs of eyes following him from over a hundred miles away.

He had lost track of how many were looking at him nowadays. If it wasn't the Shadow Tower, it was Atticus and his group, or perhaps other men and women sick of life. He had thoughts of killing them but left them alone; the more that knew of his whereabouts, the better.

It was Ashara who greeted him, her, and the little dog he had given her to properly train. Keiran. Stripped of all his dignity, Altair could not even see a shred of life in him. Six months with a devil, a royal devil, was enough that it left him a husk of his former self. Altair wasn't even sure he was a man anymore.

Naked, bound by a leash and collar, he quivered as the cool breeze of winter caressed him. He was bald now, his once long, silky hair torn out by his hand when Ashara cut off his cock, when Medusa complained about him not being decent for children. She had said, 'There! Now, all he is is a hairless dog. Nothing to see but a dog.' That hadn't gone over well, but Altair managed to stay out of it.

He had given the woman permission to be herself, so long as she didn't go overboard, and she hadn't. The children needed to learn.

"What is it?" He asked, ignoring Keiran licking his boot. He kicked him away.

Ashara jerked at his pronged collar. Keiran yelped before he docily peered at the ground at her heel. If not for his Omniscience speaking to the contrary, Altair was sure Keiran had fully broken. The man certainly had lost all his pride, but he wasn't yet truly broken.

"I'll train him better, your Grace," Ashara said, and Keiran quivered as his tongue lulled out to pant. The portrayal was damn near perfect. He gestured for her to continue. "We will arrive in Vastroph in a few hours. You can already see the gates, I'm sure. Everyone is aware of your action, and there is a likelihood of an attack."

Altair suspected as much, though his Valeguard ought to be able to handle it without many becoming aware of an attack.

"And I've already had the maids ready the Nier Maner in the capital." The emphasis on 'maid' did not go unnoticed. She was talking about the succubi that she was summoning. She had summoned plenty though the total number he had not bothered to ask. She knew what she was doing.

"You'll be met by a Count, Serling Vahn." Ashara continued, her supple lips tightening into a half-smile. "He's a rather loyal customer that will do plenty to… please you."

"A loyal customer?" Altair lifted a brow. He almost smiled. "Is he satisfied with your service?"

"More than," Ashara all but giggled, before speaking in a Soul Wisper, "The man slit his wife's throat to proclaim his love for one of the girls. He will swear loyalty to you, though I doubt he'll truly be loyal. At least not in the way that matters."

That was fine for Altair; the man was a means to an end. So long as he could aid in what he had to do in Vastroph, he was free to worship some woman's feet, then him. It made little difference, though; for some reason, he didn't quite like that.

'Pride,' he thought, shaking his head. He patted Ashara's shoulder, " Good Job, Tasha." she flushed before backing away with a curtsy.

"All I do is for the Glory of the Black Moon."

Altair left it like that, catching sight of the magnificent white walls of Vastroph in the distance, the monstrosity of a castle floating in the skies, so beautifully designed it seemed as if no mortal hands had a hand wrought it from creation. The castle radiated the light of god, carrying the energy of the elements themselves; for a second, he thought he was looking at the sun.

It certainly paled compared to the Palace of Stygian, but Altair had to admit the thing was well crafted. Below, Vastroph's beauty seemed less, but not by much. The architecture said that it was the castle that came first, followed by the city.

"Also, my Lord," Ashara whispered beside his ear. "I've got a few tips on a certain black knight that once followed us and her companion."

Altair grinned. "You've found them. Good. Everything is coming together."

"I live to serve your grace.