The Nightmare Man's Journey

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Elise was used to washing blood and gore off Harrison's robes. She had done it a lot over the centuries. Some centuries more than others, depending on Harrison's mood and his murderous tendencies. It was almost a routine in itself.

Harrison himself hated routines, or anything happening on a regular schedule. Like meals occurring around the same time three times a day. He absolutely loathed that, being confined in any way.

This was why meal times were only regular for some people in Harrison's manor. He could join, when he felt like it, but didn't always eat when others did. Elise had tried to insist it was good for his health to eat on a regular basis. To be fair, she didn't know why she had thought he wouldn't laugh in her face for attempting to use logic on him.

Back to the point. Blood and gore, rinse and repeat. Just that was turning into a routine. Which meant Harrison stopped attacking people at times, when it became a chore, or too much of a scheduled event in his mind.

When it got boring.

Elise didn't mind the blood and gore, just as much as she didn't mind the calmer times. For her, the most important thing was that her master was happy.

That had always been her goal, even back when he had no name, and his cold eyes made shivers run down her spine. Back when his words meant to hurt, his hands meant to bruise her. Back when he ripped her tongue out for speaking too much, or asking too many questions, or caring too loudly.

Back when Harrison didn't exist, and the only master she had was the Nightmare Lord. The man who hated himself. The man who wanted to die and live at the same time.

Oh, how she had feared that man. By the gods, did she fear him. Elise remembered every time his voice would get louder, and his eyes darker. She remembered his raised hand.

Slowly, that man had gone away. The four founders had started the journey; for Elise, they had begun the creation of Harrison. Sowed the first seed of a master she didn't have to fear. Only fear for, because the older Harrison got, the more idiotic things he did. The more reckless and careless he became with his own body. With his own life.

When he went through the Veil, and his magic began to disappear, Elise prayed every night for that reckless, stupid man to return. She would always run after him, make sure he didn't completely destroy himself, if it meant he'd return.

She prayed and promised to do old routines, so old she had almost put them in the past, just a few scares in the last ten years.

Dragging her master's broken body back home and placing ripped off limbs on bloody sheets. Waiting for them to reconnect, or grow anew. Watching organs re-grow, bones slowly coming back and her master's skin knit itself back into place. Waiting for her master's lungs to breathe once more, for his heart to beat… for Harrison to move. Even if it at times had taken days and weeks and months and years.

She would do all that, let him run headfirst into danger and get blasted to pieces, because at least then she would have something solid to touch. She would have something to carry home and put back together.

Her prayers for his safe return were answered at last. Or more like, Harrison had been pushed into the afterlife against his will, by others who meant for him to die, and of course he wouldn't stay then. He had wanted to die for such a long time, but apparently only on his own terms. Not when someone else had tried to push for it.