Chapter 294: The Labors of a Fettered Angel (3).

The turkey strange things in the world offer wonder and curiosity.

And what is the cost of the marvels of wonder?

***

Rummel Abellion clasped all four hands together,

“The first of your labors is simple. I need you to recite a chant for me. They are specific words to be said in a specific order at a specific place within this chamber.”

Nero raised a brow.

That sounded rather… Tame.

“What words?” He asked.

The “angel” chuckled,

“Ah, that’s where it gets interesting. I call them words because they are the closest interpretation I can find in human speech. They are more like… declarations, than regular words. They certainly aren’t in any earthly language, that’s for sure. It will be hard for a human to fathom it it can be worked out.”

Nero took a step back and frowned, “How?”

Rummel Abellion took a step closer and lifted a clawed finger up towards Nero’s forehead.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Nero tensed, his dagger coming up slightly.

“Relax,” Rummel Abellion said. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just going to… share something with you. A small transfer of information, if you will. Nothing more than that. It will feel strange, but it will bring no harm to you. You have my word.”

“Your word means nothing to me.”

“True. But you don’t have much choice, do you? Unless you know ancient Primordial Script, which I very much doubt.”

Nero’s jaw clenched. The creature was right. He needed this information if he was going to complete the task.

And he needed to complete the tasks if he wanted to get Arthur and Jacob out of here alive.

“Fine,” he said. “But if you try anything—”

“Yes, yes, you’ll stab me to death with your little knife. I understand.” The creature moved closer, now standing directly in front of Nero. It was quite a bit larger than him, he realized. By about two or three heads, making it look rather imposing and menacing with its strange, eerie features.

Up close, the details of its body were even more disturbing and grotesque. The welts were growths that pulsed as though something moved beneath the grey skin. The blue glow that wept from the boils dripped down its body in thin rivulets through the natural patterns of its grey skin, creating rather eye-catching formations and tattoos.

“This will only take a moment,” the creature said.

Then it raised one clawed hand and pressed a single finger to the center of Nero’s forehead…

Nero huffed at the moment of contact.

At first, there was nothing…

Then the world exploded into a kaleidoscope of light, lines and colors.

Words, symbols, sounds, smells…

He couldn’t quite make up what it was, and yet it flooded through his mind like water through a broken dam all the same.

There was no rhythm or sense to it. It was complete and utter nonsense his mind could not comprehend.

But comprehension didn’t mean it left his mind.

Nero let out a groan as he fell to his knees, blood dripping down from his nose.

“Be calm. Your mind is simply becoming accustomed to it. Let it happen naturally.” Rummel Abellion said, its voice rather soft, like a whisper in the shadows.

Nero took in a deep shakey breath.

He didn’t need to understand what they were to speak it. Only their purpose.

Slowly, he wiped the blood off his nose.

Seeing this, Rummel Abellion nodded and removed its finger as Nero rose from his knees and staggered backward, nearly falling.

His head was pounding, and a sharp pain thrummed behind his eyes, making his vision blur. But the words were now in his head. Etched with suffering as the stylos into his memory as if he’d known them all his damned life.

“What…” he gasped, his voice rough. “What was that?”

“The first task,” the creature said simply. “Those are the words to be spoken. I assume you should have a basic idea of what they are by now.”

Nero slowly nodded.

This entire ordeal was rather strange.

’Oracle, what in the Seven Hells just happened?!’

{It would seem the Heretic has received a packet of information in the ancient Primordial script. The first of tongues. The Words of the Divine… The Origins of this being are stewer in mystery. There is a high possibility it truly is an Angel}.

Nero grimaced, ’If it really is an Angel, what makes it any different from the ones that fell?’

{The difference between an Angel, and a Gryghori, is their birth. A True Angel is birthed, not from the interpretations and bias of mortals beings, but rather by those of the Divine Will itself. In other words, its nature and essence are crafted from divine origins. This could be why it can conceal its nature and essence so well}.

Nero hummed internally then asked,

“What about the second task?”

Rummel Abellion gestured with two of its arms toward the ground.

“You’ll need to draw runes. It will take some time and precision as the runes must be exact. Even a small error will cause the entire structure to fail.”

“What kind of runes?”

“I’ll provide the designs, of course. The same way I just gave you the words. Though these will be simpler—you’ll need to draw them in the fungus itself. Use your blade to scrape away at the growths.”

Nero’s mind was still reeling from the first information transfer, but he forced himself to focus.

“And the third task?”

The creature’s mask tilted upward slightly, as if looking past Nero toward the pool behind him.

“The third task requires ingredients. You’ll need to gather some of the Blue Fungus, crush it into a fine powder, mix it with water from the pool and a small amount of blood.”

“Blood…” Nero repeated.

“Just a little bit. A few drops of your blood should do the trick. The mixture needs to be placed in a vessel that will be provided and positioned at the center of the runic array you will create. The combination of the spoken words, the drawn runes, and the prepared mixture will complete the ritual.”

“And then you will be free.” Nero said cautiously.

“Not entirely. These tasks will only weaken the seals enough for me to manifest more fully, to regain some of my power. Full freedom will require… additional steps. But those are my concern, not yours. Complete these three tasks, and I will also fulfill my end of our bargain.”

Nero’s mind was working furiously, analyzing every word the creature had said.

“How long will this take?” he asked.

“That depends on you. The words themselves can be spoken in moments. The runes might take longer. The mixture is simple enough once you have the ingredients.”

The creature made a gesture. “Half a day, perhaps. Maybe less if you are efficient.”

Half a day…

“There’s one more thing,” Rummel Abellion said,

“A piece of advice, free of charge. When you draw the runes, do not look into the pool. Don’t let yourself be distracted by what is within those waters. What slumbers there is none of your concern and is better left undisturbed.”

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