“Shitting hells,” he snarled.
The scout’s head snapped up, mouth opening in surprise, before she caught herself and once again stared at his shoes.
Konig hadn’t sent Erdbehüter on some make-work mission, he sent her after Bedeckt, hoping she’d kill the old man. No doubt she had orders to report back to Selbsthass so Konig could kill her and gain control of Erdbehüter and whoever she killed in the Afterdeath. How did he do it? The Theocrat showed no hint of Gefahrgeist power. In fact, aside from being a minor Narcisstic, he showed no power at all. He must be hiding his strength, Morgen decided.
Don’t be a fool, said Nacht, watching from a mirror bright sword held by a nearby soldier.
Morgen sighed and waited for the Reflection to continue.
It doesn’t matter who is where, said Nacht. There is only one man worth fearing. You know who he is.
The real Konig, the man trapped in the mirror. “Failure,” said Morgen.
The scout kneeling at his feet whimpered, assuming he meant her.
It must be such a terrible thing to disappoint your god, said Nacht.
Morgen, lost in thought, ignored him. The walking stones was definitely Erdbehüter. The demonic wraiths? He stifled the urge to swear again. Ungeist, the self-proclaimed Exorcist of the Geborene Damonen. Morgen thought back. I commanded Konig to send three dangerous Geisteskranken priests far from Selbsthass; Erdbehüter, Ungeist, and— “Shite!”
The scout squeaked, shaking.
“Be silent. Be still,” commanded Morgen, robbing her of all will. She was nothing, a distraction. He needed to think. He trampled her spirit, only nominally aware of what he did. She didn’t move.
Drache, the Therianthrope dragon. Could Failure be so foolish as to send her with Ungeist and Erdbehüter?
Of course he is, said Nacht.
Morgen turned on General Misserfolg. “Tell my Geisteskranken to watch the skies. Drache is here. They are to bring her down.” If they can. “Have them watch for Ungeist and Erdbehüter as well.” Should he bring these Geisteskranken back into the fold, or just have them slain? They’d be useful when it came to invading Gottlos.
I told you, said Nacht, you won’t reach Gottlos.
“I will,” said Morgen, and his Reflection grinned that smug Wichtig grin. “Bring Ungeist and Erdbehüter to me,” he told Misserfolg. “If they resist, kill them.”
General Misserfolg nodded and marched away, back ramrod straight. His uniform was perfect. He was cleaner even than Morgen.
That’s because you’re stained and imperfect, said Nacht. And your hands are covered in blood.
Morgen glanced at his hands, clenching them in tight fists until his knuckles hurt. Since the razing of Unbrauchbar, the blood on his hands dripped from his fingertips in a relentless rain. No matter how much he washed and cleaned and wiped, they were never clean.
That’s guilt, said Nacht.
“Guilt is a flaw,” said Morgen, hating that he parroted Bedeckt’s words.
The scout kneeling before him toppled to the mud. Unwilling to move, she’d held her breath until she lost consciousness. “Idiot,” said Morgen, glaring at her. Why did he have to spell everything out to everyone? Why couldn’t they do what he needed, be perfect?
Remember Erbrechen? asked Nacht.
Morgen showed teeth to his Reflection. “You know I remember.” The Slaver tortured him for hours, broke his body.
He broke more than your body, said Nacht.
“Get to the rutting point.” The gods-damned Reflection never said anything without a reason.
He was always annoyed with his followers, said Nacht. He stole their free will and then was angry when they couldn’t care for themselves.
“General Misserfolg is fine.” Morgen gestured at the scout sprawled at his feet. “Her… I was distracted.”
You made a mistake.
“I hate you so much.”
The scout groaned and rolled onto her back. Her eyes flickered open and catching sight of Morgen she once again froze and held her breath, still unwilling to move.
“Breathe,” said Morgen. “Get up. Go clean yourself off. Make sure your uniform is always perfect. Feed yourself. Take care of your needs.”
The scout scampered away, racing to obey her god. She had no choice.
I note you left her enslaved, said Nacht.
“She’s better this way,” said Morgen. “I have to be more careful,” he admitted, glancing at his Reflection, eyes narrowing. “I’m not Erbrechen.”
Nacht shrugged. You’ve been standing here talking to yourself, surrounded by your priests, and no one said anything.
“They know better than to interrupt,” said Morgen.