A tall woman walks into the audience chamber of the Dread Lord.
She is muscular, clad in a padded gambeson suggesting armour, removed to stand before the Lord. Her feet and head are bare, nails painted, thick braid bound with chains. Her eyes are points of sullen light, like stars burning out in tired misery within pits of darkness.
Under her arm, she has a hatbox.
OH, HELLO, the Dread Lord says.
“I am known to you—” his visitor says, mouth set grimly at his casual flouting of procedure. “I am Citadel-of-Ash, Dread Lord, bound to you in blood and oath. I serve. Of late, we made pact, and you opened to me the Armoury of Darkness, granting to me the boon of a weapon of dread import, a sacred abomination with which to smite—”
YOU’RE USING THE VOICE, the Dread Lord says.
“I’m not using any voice, Dread Lord,” the woman says.
YOU’RE USING A DISTINCT “PER MY LAST MISSIVE, O MASTER OF DARKNESS,” VOICE, ASHLEY.
Citadel-of-Ash compresses her lips ferociously, pauses, and opens the hatbox. She takes out a skull, ordinary in shape and size, lustrous black.
OOH, CRANIUSTRUM INVIDOUS, the Dread Lord says, leaning forward in his towering throne a little. OLDSCHOOL. NICE.
“It’s a skull,” Citadel-of-Ash says.
BEING GRANTED A SACRED WEAPON OF THE ARMOURY OF DARKNESS IS A MAGNIFICENT GIFT, the Dread Lord says. I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE PROCESS, ASHLEY, YOU KNOW THAT. IF THEY THINK WHAT SUITS YOU IS A CRANIUSTRUM INVIDOUS—
“It’s a skull,” Citadel-of-Ash says, and shakes it a little at him. “It’s called an Armoury. I was supposed to get a weapon.”
LOTS OF THINGS CAN BE WEAPONS! TIME CAN BE A WEAPON. INFORMATION CAN BE A WEAPON. INFRASTRUCTURE—
“It’s a skull that talks sometimes.” She angrily stuffs it back in the hatbox. “But only in an extinct language. And I got Fruiting-Vine-of-Consequences to raise a ghost up that could translate, and it’s making personal remarks about — my behind.”
OH, the Dread Lord says. …LOOK, ASHLEY, THE ARMOURY ISN’T UNDER MY DIRECT CONTROL—
“It was supposed to be a weapon,” Citadel-of-Ash says.
IT IS A WEAPON.
“It was supposed to be a weapon to hit people with.”
WELL, YOU COULD ALWAYS PUT IT ON THE END OF A CHAIN AND SWING IT—
“It says things about my bottom,” Citadel-of-Ash says, and gives the Dread Lord a long, hard, silent stare.
I EXPECT THERE’S A PROCEDURE FOR DOING A SWAP, the Dread Lord eventually concedes.
