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- A mentoring sorcerer had once said, watching the young man spin sigils and incantations without full intent or heart. Borrowed power could always come at unknown risks. No matter how close the spellcasting, he was always one step away from a misfire. The moment the portal door closed behind him, Nik had felt his first creeping chill that the sorceress was right. It had been over two years since Nikolas' mishap landed him in the streets of an unnamed Russian town.
Buried in the cold mountains like a desert oasis, the paper town was a hidden crossroad of human and supernatural entities alike. Its time-worn streets were fluidly inhabited by those peddling their wares or simply passing through the neutral domain. The arid view greeted him the same as always, overlooking specks of traffic where men and women went on foot, or pulled carts into the merchant town.
For Nik, Katalam was a hiding place. An unlikely home. From the moment Valkyrie opened her doors to him, Katalam had offered him a refuge for those who chased after his demon, and other outside forces. It was a safe place to study the magic he had outright stolen from the entity he hosted. It wasn’t unlike Nikolas’ situation that Valkyrie appeared in Katalam herself. As for why the Berserker chose to take pity on him, Nik would never know.
Three years. It had been almost three years since he stepped foot inside. Nikolas was well used to being a lingering shadow to her operations in Katalam. He was often close at hand, as his abilities were traded to allow her to transfer to other parts of the world. For three years, he was able to put his own troubles aside for whatever higher cause the Berserker woman carried, one he never fully came to know.
It just seems like she needs me, Nikolas had thought once. He never expected any praise from the woman and learned quickly enough not to seek it out. Still, he did what he could to help her, often before it was asked. Maybe, just maybe, he just wanted to prove himself right.
She’s out here alone. I’ve never seen her with anyone. The mysterious mentions of past servants and contracts couldn’t sway Nik from his post. He had nothing left outside Katalam and had realized it long ago. Katalam was the only place he could find true safety. Despite the contractual nature of their relationship, Val brought with it a familial sense of security and purpose that the Vessel had clung to.
She didn’t really mean it. Nikolas told himself on occasion. It didn’t matter that he could sense the wrath which flowed under the woman’s cold exterior, barely restrained at times. It would bubble up the surface and strike like a whip before she lost interest in the servant’s presence. He had learned quickly how to dance around the ebb and flow that was the Void within her. With that wrathful power could come equally potent moments of calm.
If she comes back again, what then? She came back before. I can’t just leave.
The glances down the dusty path to Katalam had grown fewer and farther between with every passing day that Valkyrie’s absence carried on. That never meant he stopped looking. Her last disappearance had ended with a battered, bloodied silhouette staining the sands outside the house. It had taken days for the stubborn, thrashing woman to accept Nikolas’ help. The signs still showed up as cracks and patches on the house’s bare walls.
Something happened, Nik thought. The turbulence he sensed from Valkyrie’s psyche had changed since she woke up. He didn’t know what to make of it, and she never said a word despite his persistent questioning. He couldn’t just leave. Just like that, the ever-turbulent tide under the Berserker’s skin bubbled to the surface.
The room angle shifted suddenly. It took a second to realize that he had been thrown. Even the entity he carried seemed to jolt awake, battling for control of the man’s body where it had none. Nikolas felt the sudden ache in his shoulders as the wall behind them cracked and the house’s frame shook violently around him. A forced breath left his chest while he tried to stand, only to feel his knees buckle once he looked up.
The Berserker’s hands were no longer empty. He watched as a purple-hued aura crept from her figure, twisting like volatile smoke before it manifested into the crescent-bladed executioner’s weapon. He hadn’t seen the scythe more than a time or two since their first chance encounter, years ago. Nikolas felt a tingle of energy on his skin the moment it happened. His face grew pale, and he fell still against the wall he was frozen on.
Suddenly, Valkyrie swung. The Vessel didn’t have time to close his eyes or flinch before the scythe disappeared, leaving behind a rift in the room. Nikolas’ lips parted in shock, then closed. The sudden influx of energy in the room brought a chill through his body and an ache in his chest that said run.
The other side of the narrow gateway showed a desolate, void-tainted wasteland that stretched on without signs of stopping. The sky was a darkened maelstrom of purple hues that raged on overhead, lashing out with lightning strikes like a caged beast showing no signs of rest. It was a place that Nikolas was undoubtedly certain he had never seen before. Somehow, deep down in his core, he still knew what it was. A cold sweat went over him.
“-Val?”
Nikolas’ voice cracked with a pleasing urgency. The servant’s words were cut short when the Berserker closed the gap between them, drawing in close to his chest. Her hand hovered beside his head in a controlled fashion, like it hadn’t held the scythe mere moments prior. He didn’t understand. All he could do was gather his breath while he searched the mistress’s expression for something familiar.
“Val!? W-What do you-”
What happened next felt like an eternity within a second. He remembered the tightening of his shirt when she grabbed hold. He remembered the sudden force with which the room shifted again, and the shock at how fast the Berserker moved. He remembered the flash of light when his body passed through the open rift, and the chilling pulse of energy that passed through him on his way to the other side. The ceiling above him gave way to the clouded purple skies of another world he plummeted into.
What he remembered most was the series of burning impacts, one after another, down the barren stone bluffs that made up the immediate harsh landscape. Nikolas’ body finally came to rest on the other side, rolling in recoil momentarily from the force of the fall.
The words were fated to run through his head, echoing and repeating in the days, months, or perhaps years after. Nikolas drew a ragged breath into his chest. He had barely fought off the soreness and willed his body half upright when he watched the sliver of Katalam slip from his view: Valkyrie’s gaze was as cold as ever in its doorway. Wide blue hues clung to hers in the final moment; it was the last familiar sight amidst the vast chaos he had been thrown into.
He then watched the rift close, taking with it the world that he knew.
