#arciere

There's strange weapons here. Four total types at the time, the tools of killing all had themes and abilities. The sword of justice, the bow of hope, the daggers of greed, and the staff of sloth. I choose to wield the daggers, the grips felt easy in the strange inky palms I now knew as my own. The attacks quick and harsh, filled with an eagerness to hoard.

Then through the gate.

Where one can learn just how strong they really are.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

And it seems my soul is cut out for this; all the sounds of metal and flesh, of souls wordlessly crying out, sharp pains, and the riches.

It was like truly being alive again. Even as Arciere aim their weapons, I feel a certain... glee.

I stand still for just long enough daggers held loose and in my hands. Taunting the creatures with a relaxed stance. At the sound of bowstrings straining and releasing, I leap.

And attack.

Takedown.

Straight into the pack of them, the Arciere reel, dazed by the force and flurry of strikes. Daggers start to sing as I continue the attack, clean sounds of blade against skin. Bubbling joy rings in my mind and I'd sing too if I could have. One of them recovers faster and draws again, I feel those red murderous eyes on the back of my neck. But I was caught, footwork difficult in the mess of stun-locked bodies.

I twisted, sight locking onto the arrow I know was going to head my way. The second lasted for ages till a roar crashed into my senses. A heavy blade crushing the Arciere with ease. A surge of energy as blows were blocked.

I gather myself quickly but soon get knocked down as other souls swarm and make quick work from the last few standing Arciere. I grumble, which comes off as shifting shoulders and shifting posture. A glorified pout.

I thought I had made sure to be alone? I'm not keen on sharing my spoils, so I had made sure my map was clear of other souls but... they group had made it's way over.

The air shifts, a tap on my shoulder. I shrug it off and glance at the other soul. It was the who had showed up first. A warrior with a sword of justice,t heir cloak was a bright shining gold. They offer their hand again, tapping at my shoulder with a gentle strength.

Sour souls and those who don’t fully agree with the rebellion don't get a share of the relics and bones.

So I don't swat away the offered hand but instead take it and use the help to right myself. I'll never understand why, but accepting the help made the other soul beam with a sort of pride and happiness. I ended up calling this soul Justice, named for their weapon and humble halo. I don't know why Justice kept following me around, all hot and ready to aid everyone.

So why me? Why stick around me?

Turning my self-serving sprees of violence and bones into charity. Where I had to help! Least someone communicate my less-then-kind spirit to Beatrice. I loathed every second of my time in Inferno and Purgatorio. With Justice and their gaggle of brave souls.

Made me almost want to see if our blades could cross and if one of us could come out on top. Have souls tried to fight one another yet? I shake my head at the thought, instead suffering another victory at the aid of Justice.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

It was just the two of us. My blade itches as I hear the roar and crash of Justice's blade ring against the bodies of our foes, but i focus on the chest. The burning in my metaphoracal pockets was hotter then that of my want to hurt something. The chest springs open and I gather what I want to, then I get up and with a small salute to Justice and I dash away. Only to stop short. An arrow planted itself at my feet.

Only it was one of ours.

It glowed with a light.

Light a bright star.

My gaze snaps up to where it had come from. A hiss escapes me and my glare catches a spark of blue. A choir sounds as whoever the archer was recalls their arrows and didn't show their face again.

I took the hint though.

I throw myself back into the fight alongside Justice, who I don't think saw what had just happened. Our blades made a song as we cut down the last of the creatures. Justice pats my shoulder in thanks once our enemies are gone and done. Their hand gentle but heavy. I gesture to the chest, impatiant. Their eyes squint, a soul's way of smiling without a mouth, and head over to the golden treasure. I guard their back, irritation rolling in my stomach.

Torture chambers, Cocytus with Lucifer, and then back to the Dark Woods. All with that... churning and twisting irritation. With Justice burning behind me.

Again and again and... turning tighter and tighter. My blades itch more and more to test themselves against one of our own. Justice always behind me. Golden like a halo of crushing force and devastating strength. A shield and a sword in one weapon.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 33 rebels go into Inferno, 15 make it to Cocytus, and Lucifer is defeated.

I leave first after snagging my reward.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 33 rebels go into Inferno, 28 make it to Cocytus, and Lucifer is victorious.

Justice was the last soul standing before the end.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 33 rebels go into Inferno, 26 make it to Cocytus, and Lucifer is defeated.

I hang back as i hear shouts that makes my daggers crave more action. Justice cheers for everyone with celebratory jumps and spins, their sword cast aside. Every soul who sees this seems to get invigorated for the next fight.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. We aimed for Purgatorio, 11 out of 12 torture chambers completed. I held Justice back here, I'll admit. The eagerness of their soul could have solo-ed the whole chamber, meanwhile my greed got me killed, and I avoid being resurrected.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again.

I walk through the gate.

And Inferno is silent. No soul shows up beside me. No golden halo, no shimmering ideals.

The fires of hell burn quietly as my blades sing. It fills me and my greed. But some notes of the usual song fall... dull. Flat. As quiet as the crackle of the flames. And as this new pattern began to happen; me being alone to do as I desired, I got a new sinking feeling.

I think a part of myself had the audacity to miss Justice.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 33 rebels go into Inferno -I see yellow cloaks, but no Justice-, 19 make it to Cocytus, and Lucifer is defeated.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 22 rebels go into Purgatorio -I see a familiar blue cloak and mask, but no Justice-, 17 make to the Garden of Eden, and Adam and Eve are victorious. A blue cloak soul stares at me moments before death.

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 33 rebels go into Inferno -I stopped looking for my old shadow, why had I looked in the first place?-, 12 make it to Cocytus, and Lucifer is defeated.

Again I feel watched. My blades shift in my grip. The fight was over, why did I sense an enemy glare?

~~__::::::::::::::__~~

Again. 33 rebels go into Inferno, I'm hunted down by a bow user. A blue cape and halo that shines like old treasures.

The glare feels familiar. Their grasp is strong and they drag me aside from a larger group. Someone tried to follow, but the angry archer must've given them a mean look cause the other soul ran off.

They settle in a small, semi-safe clearing. Tapping the dirt. They start writing. I can't make sense of it till about the third or fourth attempt as we both struggled to communicate.

Our gibberish goes on till God's first attempt to attack. But by this point, I could narrow down the blue archer's issue.