Meld beckoned the knights over to the living room where she directed them to carry Chevrette's daughter over to a comfortably cushioned chair. When the knights gently guided the nobleman's daughter to the chair, she detached from them and moved by herself, straightening the blood encrusted hem of her skirt as much as she could before sitting in the chair.
Meld and Sylvie both took a second to analyze the girl, picking up every possible detail they could off of a single cursory glance short enough to keep the girl as comfortable as possible. She appeared in her mid-teens and was slight of body, on the thin side despite her dress shrouding her figure. Her complexion belonged to that of nobility with healthy and well-maintained skin that remained unscarred, indicating she herself had not suffered any significant harm.
There was blood on her, but it only lined the bottom of her white dress, as if she had been holding onto something leaking blood, and aside from that, there were no signs of carnage upon her.
Hopefully, that meant she was in good condition to tell of what had transpired, though of course, there was the worry that her father's death was weighing heavily on her and making her unstable. Her eyes were puffy from crying and her lip still quivered in tension.
"Ella, was it?" said Meld as she remembered all the files she had read up on the existing nobility in the duchy. She knelt before Ella and smiled. "How are you feeling, my dear? Are you alright? Do you need healing?"
Ella shook her head. Her hands were wrung together nervously, the palms slick with sweat, and her eyes were wide with fear, but it was lingering fear meaning whatever it was that had scared her had passed.
Meld continued. "I know so much has happened to you, and I do not wish to push you. If you so wish, we will have you transferred immediately over to a secure safe haven where you may rest. However, if you feel you have strength enough, would you mind answering a few questions of ours?"
Ella drew her hands close to her stomach and took in a deep breath. "I can answer," she said.
"Are you certain?" said Sylvie. "I know you have lost a loved one. Take the time to be alone if you desire it."
Ella shook her head. "Father…would want me to be strong," she said with halting voice.
"Very well, dear," said Meld. "But if at any time you feel overwhelmed, do not feel it wrong to excuse yourself."
Ella nodded meekly.
"Then Ella, can you tell us what happened?" said Meld broadly.
"I was having dinner with father," said Ella. "And then, and then, I…do not know. Something happened. I saw blood, and father took me to the vault, a woman chased us, and then father himself…,"
She looked down at the blood rimmed edges of her dress and bit her lip, trying to keep herself calm.
"This is useless," began Thunderstrike before Meld raised a hand to silence him.
Meld reached out and put her hand over Ella's. "I understand. It happened quick, too quick for you to know. It must have been horrible, like the world itself had turned upside down in but a manner of seconds."
Ella nodded weakly. Meld gently squeezed Ella's hands before speaking, "But in the end, you are alive, my dear. That must mean something. What is this about a woman?"
"I cannot be sure," said Ella. "I scarcely looked back. Father would not have let me either. He pushed me forwards, and all I could hear was this horrible squishing sound and water dripping on the floor."
"Did someone come to save you, then?" said Sylvie.
Ella shivered, as if remembering something terrible, and nodded.
"Who was it?" said Sylvie hopefully. With worry, she asked further, "Was he injured by any chance? Did any harm come to him?"
Ella shook her head several times. "No, nothing could have injured it. It had such a terrible force about it. It was…it was like death itself."
This time, Azhar perked up. Thunderstrike spoke up. "This is nonsense. The girl hallucinates from terror. I tell you now that it is the vengeful beastwomen and their foul magics that are behind this."
The roof rumbled. The echo shivered down the building until the floor itself started to shake.
"An earthquake?" remarked one of the knights of Lys nearby.
Meld, her perception sharp, had followed the path of the rumble and understood what was coming. "Knights, take cover underneath anything you can find!"
Meld immediately reached over and took Ella in her arms, hunching over the girl to protect her.
Thunderstrike cocked his head in wonder as he stayed afloat with arms crossed as always, but Sylvie was attentive and grabbed Azhar, taking both them under a table.
The roof collapsed at that point, showers of dust, boards of wood, and pieces of stone and marble raining down.
Thunderstrike, completely unharmed by simple falling debris, clapped his hands, releasing a shock wave of air that blasted away the thick layer of dust that had risen up in the room. As everyone peeked out from under their covers, they saw hovering in the middle of the vast living room a creature that they had never seen before.
A gigantic black furred bear, it seemed at first, but it became very apparent that it was no mere animal. It was far larger than any normal bear, almost taking up the entirety of the empty space between the floor and roof – a testament to the hugeness of the Chevrette mansion. Two sets of purple eyes flared with wispy curls of power. Jagged horns protruded from the sides of its head, crackling with bolts of energy.
But perhaps more obviously, there was a certain feeling that emanated from the creature that told all that stood in its presence that it was a creature infinitely beyond mere flesh and blood, beyond the weakness of either beast or man. It was something transcendent, and not in a heavenly way. Its power was colored a deep shade of darkness that promised terror and suffering, ripping out a shiver from each and every human in the building.
Meld kept her hug on Ella, and the girl, terribly frightened, buried herself in Meld's grip. The hero turned her head around to face the creature. A few pieces of sharp wood had stabbed into her back, but she paid them no mind. "For what purpose do you come here?"
Her voice held no hint of fear to it. Or perhaps she suppressed it. In any case, the calmness in her voice was impressive enough to give a sense of comfort to all the knights of Lys that had begun cowering.
"I am here to ensure my duty is done," said the ursine creature. His voice echoed several times, seemingly rumbling and reverberating between the very bones of all those that heard it.
"And that duty is?" said Meld.
"For wrongs to be made right," the creature said. "I…am a primordial spirit of vengeance, and for too long, injustice has festered in the depths of this city."
Sylvie tensed up under the table she hid under, her hand at her sheathed sword as she analyzed the creature above, trying to get a sense of its battle capacities. Black wings that gave it flight. Tough fur that looked impenetrable. Horns that could gut any man. Size and strength likely outclassing anything she could muster. Not to mention its very aura made it unapproachable, unchallengeable.
Azhar put a hand on Sylvie's shoulder, sensing her tenseness. "Don't worry bout' it," he said as he looked up at the creature. "He ain't gonna' hurt us. I know my way round' spirits, so ya can trust me on this one."
Sylvie nodded and instead paid attention to the scene unfolding before her.
"Injustice?" said Meld.
The creature growled, bearing its many teeth. "Yes. Injustice of the foulest kind. When enough anguished souls scream out for wrongs to be made right, I, the Specter, am invoked. Countless souls burdened under the chains of abuse and slavery. Of manipulation and fraud. Of lies and schemes.
All those that have had part in these wrongs, I have judged. You see their bodies before you now."
"The Specter?" said Meld. "Certainly, the deaths of all those involved here match those the supposed specter killed over the course of a century. Then what will you do, specter, now that the vengeance of the wronged has been sated?"
"He will die," said Thunderstrike as he floated up to meet the creature's eyes. Thunderstrike, despite himself being a hulking mass of muscle, was still several times smaller than the ursine being, utterly dwarfed by its presence. Regardless, the hero still squared up in challenge, lightning beginning to flash from his black suit. "I will not accept the justice of a monster."
"Stand down, Thunderstrike," said Meld.
Azhar rushed out from under the table and pointed his bow at the hero. "Get yerself down from there, sparky. Offendin' a spirit ain't the smartest thing to do."
"I see you Hinterlanders are well versed in frolicking with monsters," scoffed Thunderstrike. "And I will not stand down, Meld. What right does a monster, spirit or not, have in enforcing justice? Preposterous. Justice is for the domain of heroes. Justice-,"
All everyone could perceive was a blinding black blur as the creature moved, then a colossal sound of impact that rattled the entire mansion once more. At the end of the room, Thunderstrike lay face down at the center of a deep crater gouged through several layers of wood and pure stone. His form was still, the lightning around his body fading.
"I have simply answered the call of the suffering," said the ursine creature as it drew back its outstretched paw. "And those who cannot accept that will fare little better than that little ant."
The rattling of knights trembling under their armor echoed through the mansion, but they were too terrified to even think of running. All they could do was stand there and let the terror flow through them.
The ursine's round ears twitched, hearing the trembling, and it breathed out, steam curling from his nostrils. "And because justice has been enforced and the vengeful souls fueling me have been laid to rest, I am done here."
"Is there a chance you will return?" said Meld.
The creature paused for a few seconds. Finally, it said, "If ever there are enough souls that cry out under the weight of injustice, then perhaps they may be able to summon me once more. Heed that as a warning."
With that, the creature flapped its wings of dark energy and soared through the collapsed roofs and into the sky, so high that it became but a tiny little dot before fading away entirely.
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