RealmofMonsters

Chapter 681: Vengeance

“Mortem is one of the scarlet gods,” Freya explained.

“He is the Blood Sovereign. It is Mortem who blesses the blood of the unborn with the gift of magic,” Ulin added.

“Is that right…?” Stryg replied dryly. The Sylvan said something very similar about Lunae and goblin-kind.

“So what colors did Mortem see fit to bestow upon you?” asked Ulin.

The man was still fishing for information. A mage’s colors said a lot about their fighting capabilities and expertise in their overall magic. Generally, the more colors they possessed, the less proficient they were in each. Even among multi-colored mages, they tended to favor one or two colors most of the time.

The fact that Ulin asked about his colors so casually told Stryg two things. One, the dock master did not trust them, or at the very least did not trust Stryg and saw him as a potential threat. Two, the dock master was a naive fool if he thought Stryg was about to tell a stranger the limits of his chromatic abilities. Back in Hollow Shade, everyone knew his abilities, but here in a coastal town far from home, he had the element of a surprise, and Stryg wasn’t about to let that go.

“Blue and yellow,” Stryg answered.

“The most sought-after colors for a sea-faring mage. Mortem has blessed you greatly, it seems,” Ulin narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

“House Goldelm only recruits the best,” Freya added.

“Mortem didn’t bless me. My magic is my own,” Stryg said with an edge to his voice.

“I can see your mage is skeptical, Lady Osprey,” Ulin chuckled.

“Apologies. His spellcasting is great, but his manners are somewhat— lacking,” Freya said.

“It is quite alright, we do not expect outsiders to believe in our gods,” Ulin said.

His captain of the guard, Enyo, shrugged her broad shoulders, and nodded. “Our gods do not need their belief to exist.”

“I believe Mortem exists, I just don’t think he grants anyone their magical talents. If anything, I imagine he cares very little for mortals,” Stryg replied.

Tauri kicked his shin under the table, then smiled at the dock master and his captain. “Apologies, I think my friend here is somewhat tired from the long journey.”

“You two are friends?” Ulin cocked an eyebrow.

“Of a professional sort. I trust him to keep the ship steady,” Tauri replied without missing a beat.

But Ulin didn’t seem to buy it. “Huh… Earlier, you seemed surprised when I mentioned Mortem. Do you not know him or are you simply not a religious woman?”

“Neither. I know of Mortem, but my family worships the ebon gods,” Tauri said.

“Ah, yes, I suppose that is commonplace in Hollow Shade.” Satisfied with her answer, Ulin turned to Stryg, “I can understand why one might think Mortem does not care for mortals. The Blood Sovereign cares little for those who do nothing and expect everything, such as certain arrogant nobles; born into wealth and with no interest in improving themselves. Mortem expects us to seize power on our own, to prove ourselves. That is why no one is born with their magic; it appears later in life.”

“Elementals are born with their magic, are they not?” Stryg noted.

“Mortem is not the god of elementals,” Ulin said.

“He is a scarlet god. Scarlet. As in a chromatic god,” Enyo spoke as if she were talking to a toddler.

Stryg leaned back and crossed his arms. “Then is Mortem a chromatic like us?”

“No,” Ulin said.

“Then is he an elemental like fairies or sea serpents?”

“No,” Ulin said, this time somewhat less jovially.

“So what is he then?” Stryg asked.

“A god. To try and categorize him like anything else is borderline blasphemous,” Enyo warned, her hand wandering back to her sword hilt.

“It’s fine, Enyo. I do not expect outsiders to understand,” Ulin waved her off. “But I do hope you believe my words, Captain Lora.”

Tauri didn’t reply right away, almost forgetting her fake name, but then she quickly nodded. “With all my heart.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Ulin beamed. “It’s a pity, really. Had you grown up in our ancestral lands, you’d have learned so much. Instead, Hollow Shade has stripped so much from you.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Tauri replied tactfully.

“He isn’t,” Stryg interrupted.

“Str— Ostroz, please, enough,” Freya commanded.

“No, let him speak. Your disagreement about our gods is well noted, sir mage. If you wish to share your thoughts on how Hollow Shade has not stripped my fellow orcs of their true religion, then please, by all means, enlighten us,” Ulin taunted. 

Tauri and Freya sent Stryg subtle signals to not respond.

“...You’re right, Hollow Shade has taken much from many, many people,” Stryg finally said.

Freya and Tauri shared a collective sigh.

“My disagreement is with the rest of your statement,” Stryg continued.

Tauri bowed her head and held back a groan. Freya took a swig of her ale and absentmindedly reached for Oginum, but she had left the golden hammer in Kegrog’s care.

“With the rest of my statement…? Well, please, go on. I’m dying to hear,” Ulin said.

“You called this place your ancestral land. But the Silent Marshes are not yours to claim,” Stryg said.

“What did you say?” Enyo growled.

Stryg didn’t back down and pushed on, “Mortem is one of your gods, right? You two said so yourself. He is a scarlet god. Last I checked, this is the Ebon Realm, not the Scarlet Realm. The Silent Marshes is not your ancestral land, it’s the goblins. You simply live in it.”

The dock master bared his yellow-stained teeth in a smile that barely concealed the anger underneath. “Really? That is what you disagree with? That’s rich. You question my homeland while sitting in my home? Whatever ‘formal training’ you received clearly did not include the history of this region. My family has been here for five generations. We built this town from nothing but old ruins. What have the goblins done for our home? Nothing!”

“The goblins were here for thousands of years before an orc set foot in the Silent Marshes. They built the ruins your docks sit upon,” Stryg said.

“Then where are they? Where are these goblin craftsmen? In fact, where are any goblins, really?” Ulin made a show of looking around the tavern. “I don’t see any of them, do you?”

Stryg stared at the orc in silence.

Ulin shook his head. “You know why you don’t see them? Because the goblins were weak. Stupid, little creatures that believed they could stand up to the might of the armies of Morrigan and Katag. Enyo, what is the lesson that every child in our town learns before they can even swim?”

“The strong eat the weak,” Enyo answered.

“Exactly. We took what was ours because it was our right. The goblins could have accepted that reality and run away, but no, instead they chose to fight, and they all died for it. The smart ones ran off into the woods. But even they were not so smart after all. Their pathetic fleet now sails towards the heart of the Silent Marshes. The goblins underestimate the power of orcs once more. Murkton has already dispatched its fleet to intercept, and just like three centuries ago, we will crush the goblin plague.”

“Funny. The village I grew up in also taught us the same lesson. The strong eat the weak… It’s odd. For some reason, it doesn’t quite sit right with me anymore,” Stryg muttered and stared into his tankard of ale.

“Then you’ve grown soft,” Ulin said with disgust.

Freya slapped her hand on the table. “A toast. To the victory of the Murkton fleet over its enemies!”

“Yes, a toast!” Tauri was quick to agree and raised her tankard.

“Aye, to victory!” Ulin held up his tankard, Enyo joining in.

Stryg ignored them and only sipped at his ale after the toast.

“You have quite the charming mage, Lady Osprey,” Ulin chuckled dryly.

“Yes, he’s a delight,” Freya sighed.

“...Have you ever seen a goblin, dock master?” Stryg asked.

“Pardon?” Ulin blinked.

“Have you, personally, ever seen a goblin?” Stryg reiterated.

Tauri closed her eyes in resignation. Freya downed the rest of her drink.

“Goblins haven’t been seen around here in centuries,” Ulin scoffed. “My ancestors ran those rats out of the wetlands long ago.”

“So you’ve never seen a goblin, then?” Stryg asked.

Ulin stayed silent, but nodded begrudgingly.

“And you?” Stryg asked Enyo.

“No, but I own a skull of one of those little creatures. Family heirloom.” The captain gave a malicious grin filled with pride, as if it were a dire bear skull hanging on the wall after a great hunt.

Stryg stared at the two of them, his slit pupils growing thin. After a long, steady breath, he spoke. “Goblins are smaller than orcs, yes. They are smaller than most things in this Realm, especially in regards to Vulture Woods. Goblins learn quickly; they understand the need to work together in order to survive against the much larger world around them.”

“Like ants,” Ulin laughed at his own joke.

Stryg placed his hands on the table and clasped them together so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Like wolves. Goblins value hard-earned wisdom. They pass on their wisdom to help the younger generations survive in the most deadly forest in the world. Chief among those lessons is patience.

“The patience to stay your bow until the shot is clear in your line of sight. The patience to hide and bide your time as large predators roam the woods around you. The patience to hold back even when every single bone in your body screams otherwise. The patience to hold your tongue…”

“It would do you well to learn a lesson or two from the goblins,” Tauri glared at him.

“Yes, patience was the one I could never quite grasp,” Stryg said. “And yet, I’ve never felt so certain about anything as I do in this moment.”

Enyo furrowed her brow, but before she could fully comprehend his words, Stryg lashed out and caught her jaw. Enyo roared in his grasp and jumped to her feet to no avail. Stryg’s grip was ironclad. She grabbed his forearm and tried to pry his hand off her face, but he held her still. “Get off me, bastard!” she screamed.

“Guards!” Ulin scrambled backwards away from the table.

Tauri and Freya were already on their feet, looking at the room filled with sailors and soldiers, all reaching for their weapons. A few were even beginning to cast spells.

“Gods, I miss my hammer,” Freya muttered.

“Dammit, Stryg! This wasn’t the plan!” Tauri hissed.

Their words fell on deaf ears. Stryg stared into Enyo’s panicked eyes as she tried to get free. He squeezed and tore her jaw off her skull in a bloody splash. Enyo fell to the floor, gasping in her own blood and shock. Stryg looked down at her before planting his foot over her throat and letting his weight do the rest.

“Guards!” Ulin yelled over and over.

Stryg caught sight of the dock master running towards the door, yelling for even more help. Stryg grabbed the tabletop with one hand and ripped it off its nailed-down pedestal. He pulled back his arm and flung it across the room. The tabletop slammed into Ulin’s back with a sickening crunch and sent him crashing into the wall, the center of his spine little more than bloodied paste.

“We could use some help over here!” Freya yelled as she blasted a soldier away with a bolt of fire.

Stryg glanced back at the dozens of orcs, his gaze cold, calm. Black mana surged into his body and his shadow exploded outwards, enveloping the entire tavern in darkness.

Chapter 680: Flirting at the Tavern

Stryg wondered how much longer it would take until Gale and the others were in position. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the sound of the river outside, searching for Gale’s voice or any of the others’.

“So how did such a scarlet beauty as yourself end up working on a Goldelm ship?” asked Ulin.

The dock master’s question brought Stryg back to the table and he opened his eyes to find Ulin staring at Tauri with a coy grin. Freya cast a subtle yet worried glance at Stryg, waiting for his reaction. But Stryg’s attention was entirely on Tauri; she returned the dock master’s coy grin with her own. “You know how it is. A desire for adventure and a good set of legs to take you there.”

“Good set of legs, yes.” Ulin’s eyes wandered past her face and down to her wide hips and curvaceous thighs, made only more prominent by her sitting posture.

A bottle resting on a shelf behind the bar shattered. Everyone turned to look at the apologetic barmaster. Enyo had her sword already half-drawn and only put it away when she made sure there was no evident threat. She was fast, Stryg noted. He would have to keep an eye on the guard captain. 

“What the blazes was that?” Ulin asked.

“Apologies, sir. I’m not sure what happened,” the barmaster replied sheepishly.

“What bottle was it?” Ulin demanded.

“It was one of hangover elixirs.”

“Ugh,” Ulin waved the orc off and turned back to his guests with a smile. “Apologies. I got a few elixir bottles from a shady red mage upriver. They work, but sometimes the elixirs can be— inadequate.”

“I’ve seen faulty elixirs explode before, but never one ready to be served to customers,” Freya said.

“Neither have I. Believe me, I will deal with those hedge mages when I get the chance,” Ulin said. “How about another drink, hm? Something non-magical, I assure you.”

“Yes, I think I’d like that,” Freya raised her empty tankard.

Tauri glanced at the broken bottle and then at Stryg, a silent question on her lips. Stryg pretended not to notice.

“Should I get some soldiers to investigate, sir?” Enyo asked Ulin.

“Have you been on any interesting adventures, dock master?” Tauri leaned forward, elbows on the table, arms pressed around her breasts. They were modest compared to others, but that didn’t stop Ulin from staring.

“That won’t be necessary,” Ulin waved Enyo off, his gaze never leaving Tauri’s chest. “Most of my days are spent ensuring the docks run smoothly. Merchant ships come by here all the time. Being in charge of all this is more work than most people realize. Still, I had some great adventures back in my youth.”

Somehow, Stryg doubted that. But Tauri leaned ever so slightly closer, fully engaged with the beady-eyed man’s every word. “Oh, I can only imagine. You must have so many stories to tell.”

Stryg relaxed his tensed muscles and pretended to be unbothered. If Tauri was going to play her part and keep the man’s attention away from Gale and the others, then he would play his part as well. The ship’s mage, that’s all Stryg was. A man with no interest in the woman sitting beside him, none whatsoever. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Oh, well,” Ulin laughed awkwardly. “Some, but, enough about me. How about you? How long has it been since you’ve been back home?”

“Home?” Tauri put a finger on her lips, eyes tilted upwards in thought. “Not too long, I suppose.”

“Do you miss it? Murkton, I mean,” Ulin said.

“Murkton?” Tauri asked.

“Yes. You are from the city, I can tell. There was a way you women carry yourselves. A certain confidence to you. Head held high. Boots unstained by years of mud. A scent of faint perfume. Deny it if you wish. But I notice things. And you, Captain Lora, are from Murkton.” Ulin tossed an arm behind his chair and leaned back with quiet confidence at his deduction.

Tauri smirked and mimicked his posture. “You’re right, but you got the wrong city. My family is from Hollow Shade.”

“Ah, now things are beginning to make sense,” Ulin pointed a finger between Freya and Tauri. “But surely you’ve been to the Silent Marshes before.”

“I have, but I confess I’ve never traveled through these parts,” Tauri replied.

“Yes, I have no doubt about that. I’d never forget a face as beautiful as yours,” Ulin said. “You’ve been to Murkton, though, yes? It is the most beautiful city in the realm, if not the world. Even the ruins are magnificent, I’d even argue they are the most beautiful parts of the city.”

Stryg held back his tongue and quietly ate his food. Those ruins were what remained of Lunis, the Sapphire of the East. Of course, they were the best part of that city, Stryg thought.

“I’ve visited a few times,” Tauri nodded.

“Only a few?” Ulin pressed.

“Work keeps me busy. I don’t have time to linger.”

“Then you have not seen the wetlands? The river towns?”

“Except for passing, I cannot say that I have,” Tauri said.

And this much, Stryg knew, was true. Tauri had told him that she had visited her cousins in Murkton a few times throughout the years, but she had never strayed too far from the Great City.

“Such a pity,” Ulin said. “Had you grown in the Silent Marshes, you would have been draped in gold and silks. Nobles would have been tripping over themselves trying to win your heart.”

“You flatter me.” Tauri laughed and batted her eyelashes.

Enyo turned away from the table and made a face like she wanted to throw up, but Stryg caught it and agreed with the sentiment.

“Nonsense, even I find myself in danger of being smitten with your visage,” Ulin said.

And gods, he actually sounded sincere, Stryg realized. It wasn’t simply lust. The man was actually falling for Tauri. He barely knew her. He didn’t even know her real name and here he was, pining over another man’s wife. Stryg imagined what it would be like to dig his claws into the orc’s chest, pry it open, and watch as Ulin’s innards splayed out on the wooden floor. The idea gave him at least some semblance of comfort.

Tauri laughed at some joke of Ulin that Stryg had missed. Stryg looked at Freya and saw the sympathy in her eyes. The dwarf raised her tankard in solidarity.

“Perhaps I could offer you a tour of the nearby river towns during your stay? You are staying for a while, yes?” Ulin asked.

Tauri glanced at Freya for confirmation. “A while enough. But I feel I must ask, you’re not trying to steal my guard captain, are you?” the latter said.

“Only if she wants,” Ulin winked.

Tauri bowed her head. “I’m honored, but I’m comfortable with my place among the ship’s crew.”

Sensing a challenge, Uline grinned. “You sure I can’t convince you otherwise?”

Tauri sipped her drink. “I’ll consider it.”

“Excellent!” Ulin clapped his hands. His smile was so wide it might split his face, until he noticed Stryg’s cold countenance, and the smile died on his lips. Not one to back down, however, Ulin grabbed his tankard and dipped it slightly towards Stryg. “And where might you be from, mage?”

“Hollow Shade,” Stryg answered tersely.

“Oh, did you two know each other beforehand?” Ulin asked.

“Yes,” Stryg said. “No,” Tauri replied in unison.

Ulin furrowed his brow.

Tauri kicked Stryg under the table. “He means to say that we met before this job. We’ve both been working for different ships under the Goldelm family.”

“...Right,” Stryg said.

“Of course, you two must have been working for the Goldelms for a long time.” Ulin glanced at Stryg, “What brought you to Hollow Shade? Was it the merchant business? Or something else?”

Stryg frowned. “I told you, I’m from Hollow Shade.”

“Oh come now, you don’t strike me as a man from the City of Shades,” Ulin chuckled.

“And why is that?” Stryg asked.

Ulin gestured to his blue complexion. “Your looks are unique to say the least. Where are you really from?”

Stryg gave him a flat look. “I’m a vampire-drow.” 

Ulin waited for him to elaborate but when he didn’t, the dock master cleared his throat awkwardly. “Ah, I guess that makes sense… Ahem, first time meeting a hybrid of your kind. You must be quite the athletic specimen, no? The strength and agility of a vampire, the grace of a drow. The sun didn’t even seem to bother you. Lucky you…” Ulin’s voice trailed off as Stryg continued to give him a chilling stare.

Ulin cleared his throat, “I’m a bit of a mage myself.” A small shadow darkened and twirled around his index finger. He beamed at the party trick and looked around for the usual clapping and cheering, but when he found none, he dismissed the novice spell and took another sip of his ale.

“Are you a formally trained mage?” Enyo asked with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, I myself was taught by one of the river hedgemages,” Ulin interjected. “Not the one who sold me this elixir. My teacher was a reputable old man from a few villages up north. I might have learned more from him if I were gifted with Blue like you, but I only possess Black.”

“You do possess Blue magic, yeah?” Enyo asked Stryg.

“Of course, he does. He’s a ship’s mage. The Goldelms wouldn’t have employed him otherwise,” Ulin said.

But Enyo didn’t care and watched Stryg for confirmation. The latter raised his middle finger and conjured a drop of water over its tip.

“Cute,” Enyo scoffed.

Freya hid her face behind her blonde hair and held back a laugh. She had taught Stryg that particular gesture. Tauri kicked him in the shin again, not that it hurt him; she had more chance of hurting herself.

“Did you have any formal training? Or were you taught by vampire hedge mages? Drow?”

Ulin was fishing for information, Stryg knew that, but he also knew he was a terrible liar, so he opted for the truth instead. “I had formal training.”

“Really? Where did you study? Frost Rim? Undergrowth? Hollow Shade?” Ulin asked.

“Does it matter?” Stryg asked.

“Some academies are better than others,” Ulin said. “Take Hollow Shade, for example. The wealthiest city in the Realm, but they produce the least amount of mages. If it wasn’t for powerful mageborn Houses like the Noirs and Glaz, they wouldn’t even be considered an equal among the other Great Cities when it came to magic.”

“Didn’t Hollow Shade win this year’s Mage Tourney?” Stryg asked, earning him another kick to the shin.

“The tournament is used to gauge the youths of a city. And while yes, the youths reflect the skills of their city’s academy, this year was an exception. The Ebon Aspirant,” Ulin whispered the name warily.

Freya and Tauri tensed, but Stryg just went on. “The Aspirant?”

“A drow with giant’s blood. Two meters tall with arms like tree trunks. And eyes that burn like dark amethysts. They say he can kill you with a simple whisper,” Enyo recalled with a dark expression.

“Two meters tall, ey?” Freya mused.

“That’s what you got from that?” Stryg glared at her.

“Aye. He is a beast of a man. If he even is a man at all,” Enyo said.

“A monster more like it. Which is why this year’s win is an oddity, nothing more. So, what academy did you attend?” Ulin asked.

“...Hollow Shade,” Stryg said.

“Then did you ever meet the Aspirant?” Ulin pressed.

“No, he was after my time. I’m much older than I look,” Stryg replied.

“Yes, of course. Vampire blood,” Ulin nodded.

“And what colors of magic did Mortem see fit to bestow upon you?” Enyo asked.

“What?” Stryg practically jumped in his seat.

“I see your companion does not know our gods.” Ulin glanced at Tauri and noticed the same look of shock on her face, “You don’t know either? What sort of tragedy is this?”

“Mortem is one of the scarlet gods,” Freya explained.

“He is the Blood Sovereign. It is Mortem who blesses the blood of the unborn with the gift of magic,” Ulin added.

“Is that right…?” Stryg replied dryly. The Sylvan said something very similar about Lunae and goblin-kind.

Chapter 679: The River Docks

The Dragon’s Hoard floated half a league from a town on the coast and more importantly, the mouth of a river that would lead them into the heart of the Silent Marshes. The river was too small for a ship as large as the Dragon’s Hoard, and so the ship had thrown its anchor, and the crew had prepared a rowboat to meet with the dock master. 

“Are you ready?” Tauri walked over to where Stryg stood next to the ship’s railing.

He gave a simple nod. “I think so. It’s weird… being here. This land was once the heart of my people. It is our homeland. And it’s the first time I’m seeing it.”

Tauri placed her hand on his back. “I know this is hard for you, but we need you to be calm if this is going to work.”

“I know. I’ll be alright.”

“Alright, it’s time to move. People are gathering at the docks,” Freya said as she watched from her gilded spyglass.

“My lord, don’t do anything stupid,” Gale called out from below.

Stryg leaned over the railing and watched Gale and the others climbing down a rope and into the water. Gale was at the top, looking up at Stryg with a worried expression. 

“I’ll be fine, Gale,” Stryg reassured her.

“Take care of him, Tauri. He attracts trouble like no other,” Gale said.

“I will, I promise,” Tauri smirked.

Stryg rolled his eyes. “See you soon.” He drew Krikolm and sliced the rope clean.

Gale gave him a look that could kill as she fell in a splash. Beatrix, Nora, and Belle channeled Blue and called upon the water, forming a bubble around them and the rest of the infiltration team. Gale wiped the wet blonde locks from her face and spat a mouthful of water before channeling her own mana into the spell. The bubble expelled the excess water within it, then sank beneath the waves.

The Dragon’s Hoard hid the mages’ descent from the docks and town. Soon, the giant bubble discreetly ferried Kithina, Callum, and Kegrog, along with the four blue mages underwater and into the docks to carry out their mission. Until then, Stryg’s team would have to buy them time.

~~~

A group of orc soldiers, dressed in a mismatched assortment of leather, waited at the head of the docks as Stryg’s rowboat drew near. They weren’t the most elite of soldiers, but there were many of them, over two dozen by Stryg’s count. Nothing he couldn’t handle, but that was assuming there were no mages among them. Even if there weren’t, he did not doubt there were at least a few in the harbor and town.

The soldiers eyed the rowboat with suspicion, which only grew as Stryg and Tauri disembarked. Freya cleared her throat and gestured subtly to herself, still sitting on the boat. Tauri held back a glare and helped Freya up onto the dock, making sure to do a grand showing of it, and finishing with a low bow.

Freya played her part spectacularly, keeping her head held high, nose tilted upwards, and sauntered past her two ‘servants’. Stryg would have thought she was an excellent actress, if not for the fact that this was how she had behaved when they first met.

The soldiers formed a line around the dock, blocking Freya’s path. A woman, a head taller than the rest of the orcs, stood at their front. Unlike the others, she wore plate armor, freshly cleaned and oiled. A long scar ran down her jaw. She stared down at the blonde dwarf, hand resting on the pommel of her sheathed sword. “Take another step and you’ll lose that head. Who are you and what are you doing in Bluemere?” she spoke in a voice, deep, yet feminine.

Freya placed her hands on her hip and glared up at the dire orc. “Who in all the bloody realms do you think you are?! Huh?!”

The woman did not budge a step. “I am Enyo, captain of the town guard.”

“And I am Lady Kaessa Osprey, vassal of Lady Freya Goldelm, merchant princess of Hollow Shade,” Freya said without missing a beat.

“So you claim. But until you show me proof, you will not take a single step into our town. Nor will your ship dock in our port.” As if to illustrate her point, Enyo drew her sword slightly out of its sheath.

Freya snapped her fingers. “Lora, if that woman draws her sword, drop her.”

“As you wish, my lady,” Tauri nodded and twirled her mace in a comfortable grip. She appeared comfortable, but Stryg knew her better than that. The way her amber eyes twitched, the slight clench of her jaw.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a diplomatic mission? Stryg thought.

“Hold on, stop whatever this is!” An orc dressed in fine clothing pushed his way through the soldiers. He was a thin man with beady eyes and a black goatee. He stumbled to a halt in front of Enyo and took a moment to straighten his clothes. “Pardon my tardiness. I am Ulin, dock master of Bluemere. And you are?” He asked Freya, but his eyes lingered on Tauri.

“Lady Kaessa Osprey, vassal of Lady Freya Goldelm,” Freya repeated, her expression clearly annoyed.

“A vassal of the merchant princess, truly? May I see your merchant medallion?” Ulin offered his open hand.

Freya produced a silver medallion and a writ bearing the sigil of House Goldelm from her cloak, and handed it over. Ulin inspected them for a moment, then nodded, satisfied, before handing them back. “Stay your blade, Captain. She is who she claims to be.”

Enyo grunted and sheathed her blade.

“Apologies for my people’s behavior, Lady Osprey. The whole coast is up in arms over the recent attacks from the goblin fleet. I trust you’ve heard of the green wretches?” Ulin said.

Freya nodded. “Why do you think we’re here?”

“Yes, I’ve heard the larger ports were raided and burned to the ground by those savages.” Ulin’s expression brightened, “But not to worry. Your cargo is safe here. Lord Morrigan has already dispatched the Murkton fleet. They will make short work of the enemy shortly. I trust you have no problem with the goblins’ demise?” He looked at Freya carefully.

It was no secret that the Sylvan army had aided Hollow Shade. But Freya, or rather Lady Osprey, was a merchant. “The goblins are bad for business. I’ve already lost three of my routes thanks to them. I’ll be happy when they’re gone.”

“A merchant after my own heart,” Ulin smiled. “Come, you and your companions must join me at my tavern. We’ll drink, eat, then talk business.”

“You read my mind. Lead the way,” Freya said.

The soldiers parted to the side as Ulin did just that. Enyo ignored Freya, but kept her eyes on Stryg and Tauri. As soon as Freya had made some space with the orcs, Tauri leaned over and whispered, “What was all that bravado about? You almost dragged us into battle right from the start!”

“Relax, I was improvising. You have to act the part or no one will take you seriously,” Freya whispered.

Tauri grumbled something inaudible under her breath but said nothing more. The port was filled with smaller boats, some ranging from half the size of the Dragon’s Hoard, others to little more than rowboats. The smaller ships couldn’t carry much cargo, but they were perfect for traversing the countless rivers stretching throughout the wetlands.

Three ships stood out, too large to sail on the smaller rivers deeper inland. Warships. Arcane sigils were etched across their hulls and large ballistas sat on their decks. Either they had paid a lot of gold for a brown mage to enchant each ship and its equipment, or there were several mages in town. Probably both, if Stryg had to wager. 

“What are you staring at?” Enyo asked with a suspicious glare.

Tauri tensed, but Stryg replied without breaking his stride, “I should be the one asking you that. Why all the heavy weaponry? You get many bandits around here?”

“I assure you, our rivers are safe. We patrol them heavily. No need to worry, sir—?” Ulin asked.

“Ostroz,” Stryg replied. He chose the name of a goblin he once knew back at the Blood Fang village. The upstart goblin was one of the few who had talked to him and treated him more ‘normal.’

“He’s our ship’s mage,” Freya explained. “Lora here, is the captain of my guard. They’re a bit rough around the edges, but they’re loyal to a fault.”

Tauri grunted and spat into the water, leaning heavily into her character.

“Ah, you have your very own mage? I should expect no less from a Goldelm merchant ship,” Ulin said.

Enyo didn’t seem satisfied but didn’t push the topic. As they walked, Ulin and Enyo pulled ahead of the others. “Have the warships readied to set sail and aimed towards their merchant ship. If they try anything, shoot their ship down,” he whispered.

“And if they don’t?” Enyo whispered.

“Then we make a lot of money from the most lucrative trade deal of the year. Now play nice.”

“Yes, sir.”

Though they kept their voices hushed, Stryg’s sharp ears caught every last word. He would have to deal with those warships before they left this place.

~~~

The tavern was more of a manor, with a tavern built on the first floor. As soon as they entered, Ulin turned towards them, arms opened wide. “Welcome to my home. Please, make yourselves comfortable. The barmaids will show you to our best table.”

With a snap of his fingers, several barmaids appeared almost from nowhere, and guided the group to a round polished table at the back of the tavern.

“Oi! Bring out the good stuff. We have a vassal of the Golden merchant princess with us,” Ulin ordered the barkeep before heading to join Freya and the others.

Two minutes hadn’t even passed since they had sat down before the barmaids returned with tankards of ale and plates of steaming seafood, ranging from grilled fish to marinated lobster.

“Oh, this isn’t half bad.” Freya sipped her ale and tried a bite of the lobster.

Ulin was somewhat miffed by the back-handed compliment, but he let it slide and smiled. “I’m glad you like it. We have the best food this side of the coast.”

“I believe it,” Freya took another bite. “So, about my cargo. Where and when can I unload it? I’d also like to hire several of your smaller trade ships, say, eight or nine?”

“Ah, first we feast. Then business.”

“Fine by me.” Freya dove into her food and started to ask questions about the kind of fish and the sauces used on the lobster.

Stryg tuned out the conversation and studied the tavern. Several soldiers were having their meal a couple of tables away, alongside sailors and a couple of merchants. All of them were orcs. Stryg had grown accustomed to the different residents of Hollow Shade and he felt odd sitting in a room of people who were the Sylvan’s sworn enemy.

He wondered how much longer it would take until Gale and the others were in position. Closing his eyes, he tried to focus on the sound of the river outside, searching for Gale’s voice or any of the others’.

“So how did such a scarlet beauty as yourself end up working on a Goldelm ship?” asked Ulin.

The dock master’s question brought Stryg back to the table and he opened his eyes to find Ulin staring at Tauri with a coy grin.

Chapter 678: The Silent Marshes

After leaving the Dire River and entering the wide expanse of the Ebon Sea, the crew of the Dragon’s Hoard had hoped to break free from the conjured ice storm, but to no avail. It moved with their ship, almost as if following them. Belle suspected that the storm was linked to Lunae and rather, it followed the goddess’ power, never straying too far. 

The storm acted as a deterrent to any who would try to follow. Stryg had thought the storm would have dissipated by now. He had taken off the concealment cloak and revealed himself. No doubt Lunae would have spotted him by now. Perhaps she really could not control the storm, but at the very least she could wane it of mana, until eventually, the storm would have unraveled. But no. It continued to rage on, as powerful as it had been that first night.

Stryg’s bright vision allowed him to see past the mist and guide them through the waters. Believing the storm might break if they stayed close to land, Freya kept the Dragon’s Hoard near the coastline. It did not help. Stryg knew the storm wasn’t alive per se, but he had connected to it, and he felt its chaotic impulse to destroy everything within its vicinity, which at the moment, was their ship. Though he could not command it to disperse, he could push its waves, winds, and mist away from the ship, like an invisible bubble.

So for five days, the crew sailed, and for five days, Stryg held back the storm from devouring their ship. He did not sleep for fear the storm would attack. Instead, he sat on the upper deck near the helm, where Gale had brought him a chair to sit.

He had never stayed up so long, though he did not fret. The years had only made him stronger. After his battle with the dragonbane, his chaotic nature had fully awakened, and he felt his body brimming with strength. Yet as the days went by, with nothing but frost-mist in sight, his mind began to wander, and his body grew lethargic.

Breaks were few— to eat and relieve himself, at most. Keeping the storm at bay became harder each day, his focus wavering every hour that went by. Oginum helped; the golden hammer’s light imbued him with just enough strength to get by.

And so it was, on the fifth day, after having sailed from morning until dusk, that the massive blanket of fog faded away and the Dragon’s Hoard sailed through the last traces of conjured ice storm. 

The crew shouted in excitement and pointed at the horizon. The sun had already set, night had claimed the skies, but the dark was illuminated by the moon, full save for a sliver.

A land of verdant green, doused by the dark blue hues of the night, spread over the horizon. Stryg blinked the sleepiness from his eyes and lumbered to his feet. “Is that…?”

“The Silent Marshes,” Freya confirmed from the helm.

“How far are we from Murkton?” Stryg asked.

Freya gave a short whistle. “The region is larger than the forests of Vulture Woods and Glimmer Grove combined. And Murkton sits at the heart of the Silent Marshes.”

“You said this is one of the fastest ships you own, right? Surely, it won’t be a problem now that the storm is behind us.”

“It’s not that simple, Stryg. These are wetlands. There are large farmlands here and there, but rivers run through the entire region; most of them are too small for a ship of this size to traverse. We can’t sail directly into Murkton.”

Stryg nodded in understanding. “I didn’t really think we could. What’s the closest you can get us?”

“Well, usually we’d go to one of the docks that connect to the sea. From there, we’d unload whatever cargo we have onto smaller ships, and take one of those ships down their many rivers. Unfortunately, I’m not sure how feasible that will be.”

“Why not?”

“Stryg,” Gale said, clambering up the stairs. “Your ordeal is over. The storm is gone. Time to get some proper rest.”

“One moment, Freya was about to tell me about our next move,” Stryg said.

Gale narrowed her eyes at the blonde dwarf. “My ward has been awake for five days straight. He needs to sleep.”

Freya held up her hands in innocence. “I agree completely. Please, do not let me stop you.”

“You heard her.” Gale grabbed Stryg’s hand and began pulling him along.

“Wait, just wait a second,” Stryg tried to pull back, but he could hardly put any strength into the motion.

“I will drag you and tie you to your bed if I have to. You are going to sleep,” Gale growled.

“Just let Freya finish her thought. I’m just going to stay up thinking about it, otherwise,” Stryg said.

Gale didn’t believe him, but she knew how hard he had been working the last few days, so she let him go. Crossing her arms, she gestured with her head towards Freya to continue.

“I was just saying that under ordinary circumstances we’d stop by one of the local docks. Grab a smaller ship and be on our way. But the Sylvan frost fleet is massive. I doubt they’ve made anything but a large entrance. Word of their arrival will be on every sailor’s lips from the coast all the way to Murkton. I doubt anyone will be willing to deal with outsiders right now,” Freya said.

“Especially if the Sylvan fleet is hostile,” Gale added.

“Which they no doubt will be.” Stryg shrugged, “It doesn’t matter. Our plan was to walk once we got to the Silent Marshes. We’ll just have to start walking a little sooner than I realized.”

“We could always steal a few boats,” Freya offered.

“Seriously?” Gale cocked an eyebrow.

“What?” Freya said.

“You’re the head of the wealthiest merchant family in the realm and your idea is to steal from a couple of sailors?” Gale asked.

“It’s not like they were going to trade with us anyway. So long as we avoid any of the larger docks where the Sylvan fleet will probably be at, I think we’ll be fine,” Freya said. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll leave a pouch of gold coins at the docks as payment.”

“And if they resist?” Gale asked.

“We kill them,” Stryg yawned.

“That doesn’t seem to bother you very much,” Gale noted.

“Should it?” Stryg rubbed his eyes. Now that the storm had left, he was starting to feel very sleepy.

“They are not our enemy. I see no reason to kill them if we do not have to,” Gale said.

“Oh… I guess that makes sense,” he said.

“Stryg, are you alright?” Gale asked.

“Fine. Just tired. If you’ll excuse me,” Stryg wandered his way down the stairs.

Gale nodded to Freya, then followed after him.

~~~

Stryg awoke to the comfort of a soft blanket and a warm body pressed against him. He opened his eyes and was met with Tauri’s scarlet neck. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her closer and breathed in the scent of her short, dark hair.

There was something deeply soothing about waking up in bed with the woman he loved. Despite everything that had happened in the last few days and what was going to happen, he knew he was surrounded by his tribemates. There was a solace in that, one he hadn’t known in his younger years, and one he would do anything to protect.

“Stryg? Are you awake…?” Tauri whispered.

“So are you,” he mumbled.

She spun around his embrace and met his eyes, so close that their noses were almost brushing. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

“For food or blood?”

“Both.”

“We can take care of that. How is your head?”

Stryg had to think about it for a second. The headaches had become more frequent lately, but for now he felt fine. “I’m alright. You?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who didn’t sleep for five days straight.”

“I meant mentally.”

“My brother is still in Murkton, which is bad, but I don’t think the Sylvan have attacked yet, which is good. So, I guess I’m okay?”

“We’ll get him out of there, I promise.”

“I know.” She leaned forward until their foreheads touched.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not long.”

“You’re lying.”

“Oh, what makes you say that?”

“You’re wearing socks.” Stryg brushed her foot with his own. “You never wear socks in bed.”

“I got up to use the privy if you must know,” she kicked his shin playfully. “Also, I chatted with Gale and Beatrix for a bit while they ate breakfast. Then I came back to bed.”

“You skipped breakfast?”

“I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“Huh. That’s oddly nice.”

“It’s called romantic and it's what people do. Not that I expect a nocturnal godling to understand,” she teased.

“Funny. And here I was thinking I’d have eaten without you.”

“Of course, you would, you don’t have a romantic bone in your body. Lucky for you, I love you.” She gave him a quick kiss and rolled out of bed. “Come on, let’s go get you some food and blood.” She ripped the blanket off him.

“Were you always this nice?” Stryg stretched and sat up. He went for the blanket, but she kept it out of reach.

She tossed him the blanket. “Only sometimes. After all, is it so bad I worry about my fiancé after he stayed up for almost an entire week to fight off a storm just to keep us safe?”

“We both know I’m not mortal. I can handle a little lack of sleep.” He yawned, running the credibility of his words entirely.

“Uh-huh,” she said dryly.

Stryg leaped out of bed and landed on his feet, wiggling his clawed toes on the plush rug sprawled around their bed. A sudden longing for home overcame him. He missed the foliage and soil of Vulture Woods underneath his feet. Pushing away the feeling, he turned to Tauri and looked her up and down. She was already dressed in a loose white tunic and a pair of form-fitting black leather pants.

Drinking in the sight of the woman he loved, he appreciated the moment of silence. His eyes eventually wandered over to her wide hips and voluptuous bottom, when Tauri caught him. “You’re staring,” she said with feigned annoyance.

“Am I…?” He mumbled distractedly.

She sauntered over, making sure to push out her hips with every step. “We can play later. Gale says we’ll be at a dock soon. You’ll need your strength. You need to eat.”

“Where are we exactly?” Stryg glanced out the small porthole in their room. They were sailing past small patches of green not too far from their ship.

“On one of the largest rivers near the marshes’ coast. It’s nothing compared to the Dire River, but it’s large enough to carry the Dragon’s Hoard. Now come on, breakfast is getting cold.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think it’s quite warm.” Stryg slipped behind Tauri, pulled her into his arms, and brushed his teeth over her neck. His canines could hardly be called fangs by any vampire’s standards, but they were sharper and harder than any vampire’s.

Tauri smirked and leaned into him, tilting her head away for better access to her neck. She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips. “You know, sometimes I can’t tell if you’re more vampire, drow,” she brushed his pointy ear, “or goblin.”

“Goblin,” he said without hesitation and bit her neck. It wasn’t the two thin yet sharp fangs of a vampire, rather it was all his teeth sinking into her soft flesh, every single one as sharp as a knife. It was messy; Tauri would need a new shirt. 

She winced, then sighed, sinking into his embrace. “Are you sure about that, mister blood-drinker?”

“Gods drink blood as well.”

“My point exactly. Maybe you're none of those things. Maybe you're something else entirely.”

“...Maybe.”

Chapter 677: Sigte

Stryg roared at the storm. It was not the voice of a goblin, nor the defiant scream of a godling. It was primal. And it cut through the winds and crashing waves like the howl of a wolf. The frost-mist answered in return, swirling to life around him, pulsating with newfound power.

The frost-mist called to him, all at once familiar and new. It froze the very wood underneath his feet and the soaked clothes on his body, but when it brushed his skin, the magical chill felt like the morning dew, cool to the touch. He shifted his arms and the ice on his clothes fell apart like snow off a thick coat of fur.

Stryg looked about the ship’s deck. His friends were struggling against the crashing waves, howling winds, and the overwhelming cold of the frost-mist. The storm was only growing worse the further they sailed. It all seemed so surreal to Stryg, like waking within a dream to realize it wasn’t real, that he could change it with a simple thought. And so he did.

He waved his hand over the horizon and the frost-mist billowed away from him like the center of impact. Looming waves swept past the ship and lost their swells. The ice that covered every wooden surface of the deck cracked and shattered into a fresh coat of snow. Howling winds fell to a whisper and a warm breeze swept through the deck, as if it had all been a bad dream.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, but the storm did not touch the Dragon’s Hoard. It was as if they sailed in the eye of the storm, untouched by the chilling destruction roiling over the Dire River.

“Stryg…?” Tauri called out hesitantly.

“I’m here,” he replied and walked over to where she had taken cover under a few crates, but his legs failed him and he stumbled.

Gale rushed to his side, catching him before he fell. She staggered back a step from his sheer weight slamming into her, but she found her footing and hoisted him back up. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling sleepy.

“Don’t push yourself,” Gale brought him slowly to the ground and let his back rest on the main mast. 

“Is it over?” Freya shouted from atop the crow’s nest.

“Did you do this, Stryg?” Callum asked, looking around in awe.

Nora leaned over the railing and watched the churning waves swirling around the ship, it reminded her of a shark circling its prey. “How are you doing this, Stryg? And how long can you keep it up?”

“I… I don’t… know,” his voice grew faint and his head slumped over.

“Stryg…?” Gale frowned. “Stryg!”

Tauri hurried over to Stryg’s side as quickly as her stiff legs allowed. Leaning down, she touched his forehead with the back of her hand. “He’s freezing.”

“Do something,” Gale said, panic rising in her voice.

“I’m trying.” Tauri conjured a small ball of fire and held it over him.

Stryg’s eyes had glazed over and his every breath came out in cold wisps. “I’m… fine.”

Gale sighed in relief at the sound of his voice. “No, you’re clearly not. We need to warm you up.” She removed his shirt, but was surprised, the shirt was dry. “It’s not his clothes… It’s him.”

“It’s hypothermia. Caused by his own chaos,” Belle said, coming closer.

“Explain,” Gale said tersely.

“Chromatic and even most elemental mana generate heat the more one converts the ethereal energy into a physical form; spellcasting. But elemental chaos is different. The more one uses chaos, the more heat is sapped away,” Belle said.

“So it’s like mana burnout but the opposite?” Tauri asked.

“Yes, but I’ve never seen this bad before. He must have used an incredible amount of chaotic energy. His body wasn’t ready for it,” Belle noted.

“How do we fix it?” Gale growled impatiently.

“It’s not that simple. The chill is coming from inside him.” Belle gestured to Tauri’s flaming orb, “That will only warm his skin at best.”

“Just like mana burnout.” Tauri furrowed her brow. “The body burns from within; throwing the mage in the ice bath will only do so much.”

“It’s still something.” Gale rushed over to a crate, cracked it open, and threw out its contents. Dragging the crate over, she carefully lifted Stryg and placed him inside. Channeling Blue, she filled the crate with water. “Tauri, fire, now.”

Tauri nodded in understanding and held the orb of fire above the crate’s water. It didn’t take long before it started to steam.

“Hah! I knew we could do it!” Freya yelled in excitement as she came down from the helm. “Stryg? Shit, what happened to him?” 

“He’s in hypothermic shock,” Belle said.

“We’re trying to keep him warm,” Tauri said as she kept increasing her flame’s potency. The water was already boiling.

Gale touched Stryg’s neck and frowned. “It isn’t working.”

“It makes sense,” Belle said, expression grim. “Stryg is a titan. His body can handle extreme temperatures without much difficulty. For him to be in this state, he must be generating an incredible amount of inner cold. Boiling water won’t do much.”

“Well, what else are we supposed to do? We can’t bathe him in fire, he’ll burn,” Gale said in frustration.

“I’m thinking.” Belle wrinkled her brow.

“Can a healing spell help?” Callum asked.

“No, healing magic won’t do anything… But maybe his own magic can.” Belle’s face lit with an idea. “Stryg, cast as much chromatic magic as you can. Throw it all at the sky, whatever you can.”

Stryg nodded faintly and lifted his arm out of the water, pointing it upwards. After a long moment, nothing happened. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” Tauri asked.

“I can’t gather enough chromatic mana. It just keeps dissipating,” Stryg muttered.

“Someone find Beatrix. She’s a True Blue. Maybe she can help,” Gale said.

“On it.” Callum nodded and ran off.

“Maybe I can help,” Freya said, more to herself than anyone, though every head turned to look at her.

“How?” Gale asked.

Freya held up her golden hammer. “I don’t know if it’ll work.”

“I’m willing to try anything,” Gale said.

“Please.” Tauri released her flame spell and stepped aside.

Freya drew closer and with a slow, measured movement, she placed the hammer’s face on Stryg’s chest. The hammer’s head was made of a polished silver-gold. Freya closed her eyes and whispered, “Now or never, Oginum.”

 The countless arcane etchings across the hammer began to glow with an inner golden light. It started as a simple glow, then it flared to life, a golden blaze that lit up the deck, banishing the shadows of the night. Sparks of golden light rained down from the hammer and sank into Stryg’s chest, sending ripples through his blue skin.

At first, Stryg winced, but then he let out a sigh of relief as more sparks fell on him. “It’s warm,” he whispered.

Freya smiled. “It’s the Light of the North.”

“Oginum glows to inspire hope where it has been lost,” Tauri recited the famed words of House Goldelm’s war hammer.

“Think you can hold off the storm until we’re well and far outside it?” Belle asked.

Stryg raised his hand out of the water and stared at the silver scar across his palm. “I think so…”

~~~

Fifty leagues downriver, the Sylvan fleet of ships sailed unobstructed by weather or man. They had stopped only once a few hours ago to meet with a small party of goblins from Evenfall that had arrived to join the fleet. Among them was the high priestess of the Celestial Shrine herself, the Silver Mother Virella.

Silver Mother Silvana had carried her out of Lunis when the city fell. Now, 300 years later, Lunae found it only fitting that the new Silver Mother was by her side when they retook the city. And retake it they would.

The frozen fleet sailed down the river with a focus and zeal that had never been seen by the goblins of Vulture Woods. They were going to war to reclaim that which had been taken from their ancestors. Whatever ship was unfortunate enough to cross paths with their fleet was shoved to the side by massive waves. Any Murkton merchant ships were quickly capsized and dragged to the bottom of the river.

A few Murkton warships had been guarding their merchant vessels, but they had fallen quickly. For the Sylvan fleet was carved from enchanted ice forged by the Mother Moon. There were no sails, each ship was hauled by the river’s current and the power of a goddess. There were none who could oppose their coming, nor any who could follow.

Or so Lunae thought. She was standing at the helm of her warship, her sight focused on the horizon and what lay beyond, when a sharp burning pain seared across her hand. She winced, looked down, and froze at the sight. A dark grey scar stretched across her silver palm. “No, no. It’s not possible. The bond was broken,” she whispered in a trembling voice.

“Your divine majesty?” the Silver Mother asked from a few paces behind her. “Is something wrong?”

“...How well acquainted are you with Sigte?” Lunae asked, her gaze not leaving the scar on her palm.

“The ritual?” Virella cocked her head to the side.

“Mm.”

“Well, the Sigte was an ancient ritual, only to be performed by a very few select individuals of great power. Some acolytes believe it was a simple promise of loyalty, but I’ve records in the Celestial Shrine’s library that suggest it was a magical bond in nature.”

“You would be correct in that assumption. Tell me more.”

Virella beamed at Lunae’s approval. “The Sigte bond was said to be handed down to the Lunar Elects by the black and white wolves of dusk. The moon and the sun. You and Solis taught our people the Sigte,” Virella noted, uncertain of how to continue after mentioning the long-dead sun god.

“And what happened to this Sigte?”

“It was said to carry great risks, even after the ritual was completed. Which is why it was deemed forbidden by… you, after the fall of Lunis.”

“Yes.” Lunae scoffed, a small bittersweet crossing her lips. “Do you know why I forbade the ritual? The risks involved?”

“Not precisely,” Virella answered weakly. If this was a test, she had clearly failed it.

“No need to feel guilty. Detailed records regarding Sigte were destroyed long ago by your predecessors.”

“I see.” Virella sighed in relief. “May I ask then why you forbade the ritual?”

“It was because the bond Sigte formed allowed for many things to cross over between both individuals. Such as power, one’s own lifespan, or even…” Lunae stared at her open palm and slowly closed her fist. “Pain. My brother, at the very end of his life, broke the Sigte bond between him and me. The backlash of that shattering almost destroyed me, but it would have been worse had the bond remained. You see, if one half were to die, the other half would experience the full extent of that death.”

Virella’s expression darkened in understanding. “The other half wouldn’t survive. Both individuals would die.”

“...Yes.” Lunae closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. “Tell me, Virella. If you were immortal and held the power of a goddess, and you loved someone so much that you’d rather die than watch them die from old age, disease, or conflict, would you form a Sigte bond with them?”

“Yes, I would, in a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

“If I can’t live without this loved one, then if they died I wouldn’t care if the Sigte bond killed me. And since I’m an immortal goddess, there would be no risk of my own death and the bond killing them either. I see no downside.”

“Hm. Let’s say you make the bond. Now, what if you suddenly became aware of a very real threat to your life, what then? If your possible death meant the death of your bonded, would you break your bond?”

“My death isn’t a certainty?”

“No, but the threat is real. And it is a threat you cannot evade, not forever. It would find you, one way or another. Whether you’d survive the encounter is unknown.”

Virella glanced up at the night sky and the moon hanging over them, deep in thought. She imagined Solis and what he had done to Lunae. Had the pain of that loss still haunted Lunae to this day? Was the Mother Moon searching for some sort of justification for her brother’s actions? “If I knew I was going to possibly die very soon, and if I could not guarantee my own survival, I suppose I would break the Sigte bond.”

“Even if it meant hurting the person you loved most?” Lunae asked quietly. “Even if breaking the bond would fracture their mind? Could you look them in the eye as they cried and begged you not to do it? See the confusion and pain in their gaze? Could you hold their hand as they forgot you? Forgot what it meant to be loved? Watch as they came to believe that they were never worthy of love to begin with? Could you do it then?”

“I… If I knew I was going to die, I’d have no choice.”

“But that’s just it. You don’t know. There is only the threat. A relentless enemy that desires nothing more than to hurt you. Should you break the Sigte bond?” Lunae sighed bitterly, “Or should you have fought? Held your ground and fought to your very last breath to protect the one you loved?”

Virella chose her words carefully. “I think either way, I would be protecting the one I loved. But I believe Solis didn’t wish to harm you. I think he wanted you to live, your majesty.”

Lunae shook her head. “What if it was all for naught?”

“Pardon?”

“What if you broke the bond, but it survived anyway? What if you inflicted all that pain and suffering, yet somehow the bond survived?”

“I… I don’t understand,” Virella admitted.

“It means the one you love is still in grave danger. It means you failed and hurt the one person you were supposed to protect.”

Chapter 676: Dire River Part 2

The storm continued and grew worse the further the Dragon’s Hoard and her crew sailed into the magical mist. Stryg closed his eyes and tried to focus on a feeling, anything that might help.

“Ah, I can’t see shit!” Freya screamed, their shared sense of sight going dark.

“Sorry!” Stryg snapped his eyes open.

The first iceberg was coming up on the Dragon Hoard’s right.

“Freya…” Stryg said, eyes widening.

“I’m on it!” She turned the wheel as fast as she could. The ship groaned as it heeled to the left. They weren’t going to make it.

Gale and Nora rushed to the edge and commanded the incoming wave to rise even higher. The wave rose between the ship and the iceberg and pushed the Dragon’s Hoard away just enough to scrape by the massive tower of ice.

“Watch it!” Gale yelled at the helm.

“I’m trying! If this idiot doesn’t keep his eyes shut, maybe we can survive this!” Freya snapped.

“I said I was sorry.” But Stryg didn’t dare look at the angry dwarf. Instead, he focused on the incoming icebergs. As long as his vision was linked to Freya, he needed to keep his eyes peeled; otherwise he risked blinding both of them and crashing the ship.

The frost-mist had engulfed their surroundings and the howling winds only empowered the chill as it swept through the crew and deck. Rime was already forming on the railing and the water that had splashed onto the deck from the crashing waves had frozen over, causing several sailors to slip and fall. To make matters worse, the ship continued to rock from side to side as heavy waves crashed into the hull. A few of the fallen sailors screamed as they were sent careening off into the dark waters.

Several of the crew tried to head below deck, but the crashing waves and powerful winds had cut them off from the stairs. Tauri reached them and conjured an orb of flame above their heads for warmth. Despite the constant orange mana she injected into the spell, the flames flickered relentlessly and seemed in danger of being snuffed out by the heavy winds.

Hail continued to pelt the remaining crew as they tried their best to take cover and hold onto anything for dear life. Kithina was in the crow’s nest, channeling Yellow, casting protective spells around the sails. The winds wrapped around the sails like a shield, preventing the frost-mist from freezing the cloth, yet the storm’s wind seemed to fight harder the deeper they sailed downriver.

The freezing mist billowed around Stryg, dampening his clothes and freezing them in the span of a few breaths, but he ignored it and kept watch, occasionally calling the incoming icebergs out to Freya. He could feel the cold trying to seep into his body, like water into a sponge, but its icy touch could find no purchase in his skin. Even as he breathed in the frost-mist, its frigid temperature warmed as it entered his nostrils and flowed down his throat. 

The frost-mist simply passed over him. Though Freya was not so lucky. The mist had frozen her clothes and left her a shivering statue. Her limbs were stiff and her lips had turned purple.

Stryg glanced at the freezing woman standing next to him and nearly pulled his hand away from her head, risking the spell’s collapse. “Freya!”

“K-Keep your e-e-eyes ahead!” Freya said through chattering teeth. “D-Don’t worry about m-m-me.”

“Just hold on.” With his free hand, Stryg conjured his own orb of flame, but as soon as he did, he realized why Tauri had been struggling. Something in the mist was fighting against the fire, dampening its power. It reminded Stryg of when he had fought against Beatrix in the Mage Tourney and she had ripped apart his spells by pulling at the threads that formed them.

Foregoing the flame, he released the spell and instead began to write red sigils in the air, all the while keeping his eyes on the lookout for the icebergs. The sigils quickly fell together like chain links. When the last link connected to the rest, the entire arcane sequence glowed and formed a red dome around the helm.

“T-T-Thanks,” Freya mumbled.

“Are you feeling better?” Stryg asked.

“Still… c-c-cold…”

She was right. The dome should have stopped the hail, frost-mist, and the cold entirely. Yet the mist seemed to sink through the wards, albeit slowly.

“There’s something wrong with this storm,” Stryg frowned. He recast the orb of fire over his palm and let the heat seep into the air, but once again it flickered weakly. The storm was breaking apart his flame spell. 

This was divine magic, he had no doubt of it. Lunae had conjured a storm to prevent anyone from sailing down the river. The question was, could she even stop the storm from this distance? The Sylvan fleet was a day ahead of them. Even if the entire fleet sailed more slowly than the Dragon’s Hoard, they were still far ahead. 

Stryg tossed off his cloak of concealment and hoped that Luane could see him. “I’m here! Stop the storm, please!”

But there was no answer and the storm continued to rage on. It felt as if Lunae had set a tree ablaze and watched as the whole forest went up in flames. Even if she could see him, there was nothing she could do at this point.

Freya licked her lips and straightened her back. “I-I’ll be f-fine, just focus on g-g-getting us out of th-this.”

Freya was projecting strength, but Stryg knew she was still freezing. At this rate, she would fall into hypothermia, as would the rest of the crew who hadn’t taken cover below deck. Gale and Nora were fighting off the incoming waves as best they could. Belle had joined them, adding her own blue magic into the fray. But it was a losing battle. Kithina and the rest of the crew weren’t faring much better.

Stryg found himself wishing blue magic had dominion over ice and the cold, but such spells were limited to the elemental magics. He had tried to call upon the element of chaos within him to command the weather like his sister, but try as he might, the power had not come to him. He wasn’t like Holo, his divine powers lay elsewhere, he thought.

The memory of the Astral Light obliterating the sky above Hollow Shade flashed through his mind. Stryg shook his head; even if he did know how to control the Astral Light, such destructive power would be of no help in the middle of a ship. Not to mention the backlash such a power would have on his body. Melantha had warned him that he had been lucky the first time. There may not be a second time.

“Wait… Is it just me or are the icebergs heading towards us!?” Freya yelled over the raging wind.

Stryg quickly darted his eyes at the horizon. “Fuck.” She was right. The icebergs were floating against the river and heading straight towards their ship. Had it been attracted to all the magic they had been flinging around? Or did the conjured storm have some form of limited sentience?

As the icebergs drew closer, the storm suddenly picked up in strength, the winds roared with renewed life, and the frost-mist grew more potent until even Tauri’s flame flickered out. Hail the size of an infant’s fist began to rain down, pelting the deck in a deafening cacophony. Tauri, Kegrog, and the few crewmates that remained on deck had huddled close under one of the masts and a couple of crates, but soon it wouldn’t make a difference. The cold was growing worse. Even within the red dome, Freya had fallen to her knees, unable to keep her stiff limbs upright.

“Freya!” Stryg released the mind spell and helped her to her feet.

“O… ginum…” Freya reached out feebly to the hammer lying not far away.

Stryg rushed over to the golden hammer and handed it back to her. As soon as the hammer was in her grasp, it flared with a warm glow. Motes of golden light flowed into Freya’s skin, sending small ripples through her body. She closed her eyes and sighed with relief.

“Freya…”

“I’ll be okay… help the others.” She gave him an exhausted grin.

Stryg felt uncertain, but a quick glance at Tauri and his friends more than made up his mind. Time was not on their side. With his divine sight, he could see what no one else could, several icebergs coming towards them fast. They didn’t have long before the first one crashed into the ship. 

“I’ll be back.” Stryg ran out of the arcane dome, the red sigils fizzling somewhat as he moved through them. The wind hit him in full throttle, hail striking an endless barrage. Even the frost-mist seemed to cling to his skin. He winced as a particularly large piece of hail struck close to his eye.

Calm down, he told himself. Panicking would do him no good here. He needed power, the strength to change their circumstances. He thought of his father and silently called out to the divine power coursing within his veins. Something. Anything that could help him.

There was no answer. He clenched his eyes tight and tried to focus, ignoring the howling wind in his ears and the pelting of hail. He called out again, searching for the element of chaos within his heart. Silence answered.

He called a third time and then he felt a pull towards something below deck. Svartna. He knew at that moment that if he called, the orichalcum spear would answer.

No, Stryg cast aside the thought. The spear was a conduit of his own power, it would not save the ship from a storm. The power of Death could not save lives, only take them. He needed some other Aspect of his father. If he could not call upon the Navigator’s Aspect, then perhaps the Star or Traveler? Maybe even the Owl?

He had little understanding of how any of them worked, but he remembered Melantha’s words. A titan’s powers were anchored within their emotions, their instinct. He didn’t need to understand them, he needed to trust them. Or so he hoped.

Stryg called out once more. He searched for a connection in the rhythmic beating of his twin hearts, but the only response he felt was harmonic disorder, the chaos and chromatic energies flowing in an endless rhythm, uncaring and unaware of his own plight.

“Dammit!” He shouted in frustration and fell to his knees. Opening his eyes, he saw the incoming iceberg. It would be upon them soon. A dozen ideas raced through his mind on how to deal with it. Two dozen chromatic ways to obliterate the tower of ice. But then what? When the next one came, he would destroy it. Yet what about the one after that? He would run out of chromatic mana long before even half the icebergs were destroyed.

Did they have to abandon ship? There was no way he could save the whole crew, but at the very least, he would save his friends. Gale’s warning be damned. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t swim. He wouldn’t leave them behind. He wouldn’t forget them. He wouldn’t forget her.

Her? Stryg paused as a familiar sense of hopelessness wrapped around his chest at the thought. No, not hopelessness, a deep, penetrating wound that cut through the noise of the storm. It wasn’t a wound of flesh and blood, but of loss. He had lost her. He didn’t know quite whom, but he knew he had lost someone precious.

Stryg found himself staring at his palm. His hand ached with a familiar sting, yet there was no cut. With a slow hesitance, he called out once more, this time to any power that might listen. And for the first time since the storm had struck, he felt cold. It was faint and it pricked at his palm, like a snowflake melting on his skin. 

He knew the cold sensation on his hand, it was small but familiar. He had ignored the cold nestled in his palm for so long, that he had forgotten it was ever there, but it had never left. 

A sudden warmth slipped down his face. He touched his cheeks and realized he was crying. Stryg closed his eyes and called out to the cold sensation, the wound that had never healed. And it answered with fire.

Sharp pain seared across his hand and when he opened his eyes, he found a pale silver scar across his once unblemished palm. An unfamiliar power swelled in his chest, stretching at the seams, begging to be released. Stryg staggered to his feet, reached his hand towards the roiling clouds, and let his instinct speak where his words failed.

He roared at the storm. It was not the voice of a goblin, nor the defiant scream of a godling. It was primal. And it cut through the winds and crashing waves like the howl of a wolf. The frost-mist answered in return, swirling to life around him, pulsating with newfound power.

Chapter 675: Dire River Part 1

Stryg snapped his eyes open and sat up in bed. He was back in the cabin of the Dragon’s Hoard. Tauri was at his side, slapping his cheek lightly. “Oh, thank the gods, he’s awake.”

“Get him up!” Gale said.

“What’s going on?” he asked blearily. He felt disoriented as if dropping into another of his ancestor’s memories.

Gale drew her sword. “We’ve got a problem.” 

Tauri helped Stryg out of bed as he regained his footing. After a few breaths, the vertigo slowly dissipated, though not entirely. “Everything is moving…”

“That’s not in your head,” Tauri lamented.

Stryg thought about her words and looked around the cabin. “...The ship?”

“Come with me.” She grabbed his hand and led him up to the deck. 

Sure enough, Tauri had been right. It was pouring rain outside and the winds were howling in his ears. Stryg leaned over the rails and watched as massive waves crashed into the Dragon Hoard’s hull, threatening to tip the ship over. The Dire River was known for its massive size and rapid current, but Stryg had never seen waves this high.

“I’m not much of a sailor, but are these waves normal?” Stryg asked.

“Not even close,” Tauri shouted over the crashing waves.

“Where is Gale?”

“Over there!” Tauri pointed at the quarterdeck.

Stryg ran across the deck, faltering in his step as another set of waves crashed into the ship. Kegrog and Kithina were suddenly at his side.

“We’ve got you,” Kegrog helped him up.

“You’re awake?” Stryg asked, mildly surprised.

“Of course, we’re awake. How could we sleep through all of this? Did you just wake up?” Kithina noticed his disheveled appearance. 

“Something like that,” Stryg replied.

“Are we really sailing into all that fog?” Kegrog pointed at the fog bank ahead of them. 

“That isn’t fog. It’s frost-mist…” Stryg whispered.

It was a massive wall that covered the entire river. Stryg hadn’t noticed when he first got on deck. At the rate the ship was sailing down the river, they would hit the wall in a couple of minutes.

Stryg tossed his boots and ran to the quarterdeck. “Find Nora and bring her to the quarterdeck, quickly!” he called back without waiting for an answer. He leaped up the stairs, three at a time, and landed with a heavy thud.

The ship’s captain was at the helm, arguing with Freya and Gale. “We need to turn back, the ship won’t hold at this rate. This storm isn’t natural.”

“We’re fine. Stay on course,” Freya said. She appeared calm, despite the wind lashing at her face, throwing her golden hair into disarray.

“How long has the storm been going?” Gale asked.

“Only half an hour, but the further we sail downriver, the worse it’s become. The waves just keep growing larger. This is foul magic at work. I’m afraid the ship won’t hold,” the captain answered.

Freya patted the railing, “The hull’s enchanted, it’ll hold.”

“I’m not worried about the hull. At this rate, the ship will capsize.” As if to illustrate the captain’s point, another wave, larger than any before, crashed into the ship, splashing water all over the deck. Several dwarves were swept away and disappeared under the raging current.

Freya’s hands wrapped around the rails in a white-knuckle grip and Gale wasn’t far behind, as the water tried to throw them off.

“Man overboard!” a sailor screamed while several more rushed to get ropes.

“We need to turn back!” the captain demanded.

“He’s right, we need to get out of here,” Gale agreed.

Freya furrowed her brow, then noticed Stryg standing at the top of the stairs. The claws on his feet had dug into the wood to hold him steady.

“Don’t go ruining my ship!” Freya snapped, though her tone wasn’t sharp.

“My lord, are you alright?” Gale rushed to his side.

“I’m fine,” Stryg reassured her.

“It won’t be long until the ship hits that fog bank. We might not get a chance to leave once we do. We need to leave now!” the captain said.

“He’s right, we don’t even know what’s on the other side of that fog,” Gale said.

“I think I have an idea.” Stryg raised his index and middle fingers and pointed them at his eyes. He took a quick breath and tensed.

Stryg channeled White and cast a bright spell. Two pinpricks of lights formed at his fingertips and shone with the blaze of the sun. He winced, but forced his eyes open. The pupils grew wide, and the rings of his irises broke and expanded, covering the whites of his eyes entirely.

“Did he just blind himself?” Freya asked, taken aback.

“He’s fine… I think,” Gale replied.

Stryg’s world of color had disappeared in a flash and he was left in a world of darkness. Everything in his sight was black and outlined in silver strings of light, almost as if he was seeing schematics of what the world should be. The frost-mist had disappeared entirely and he saw what lay ahead.

“Pillars. No. They’re more jagged. Made of ice. They’re small icebergs,” Stryg described what he saw.

The captain muttered a curse under his breath. “How many, my lord?”

“Dozens, no, hundreds,” Stryg corrected himself as he glanced around the horizon. “They’re spread all across the river for as far downriver as I can see. Lunae didn’t want any ship following her army.”

“That’s it, we’re turning around!” the captain said and began to turn the wheel.

“No, wait,” Freya said.

“Are you mad? Turn us around, captain!” Gale said.

“Aye, aye, m’lady!” the captain nodded.

Freya bit her lip and stared at the floor, her brow furrowed. Finally, she looked up at Stryg. “This is your quest. It’s your call.”

Stryg saw the determination and realized she was serious. She was trusting him, putting all their lives at risk for his sake. Freya had left Stryg and Clypeus on Widow’s Crag once. Now Stryg realized she wasn’t about to do so again, even if it meant crashing the ship into a million splinters.

 “We move forward,” Stryg said.

Freya grinned. “I knew I liked you. Captain, you heard Lord Veres, keep us on course.”

“But we’ll crash!” The captain looked at her as if she were crazy.

“That was an order, captain.” Freya cocked an eyebrow.

“I won’t do it,” he replied adamantly.

“Is that so?” Orange mana flowed into Freya’s hand and with a flick of her wrist, she sent the captain stumbling backwards with a faint blast of flames. “Get this mutinous dwarf into the brig!” she ordered a pair of soldiers, before turning and manning the wheel herself.

Stryg walked over to Freya’s side and gave her a nod. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always.” Freya winked.

“You’re both insane! Do you even know how to steer this thing?” Gale groaned.

“I’m Freya of the House of Goldelm, of course, I know how to steer my own ship!”

Nora and Kithina clambered up the stairs. Their clothes and hair were soaked, but they seemed relatively unscathed. “Stryg, Kitty told me you needed us. What’s wrong with your eyes?” asked Nora.

“They do that sometimes, it’s weird, I know,” Kithina said.

“Perfect timing. Nora, you and Gale are the only blue mages on board besides me. I need you both to direct the incoming waves away from us, the best you can. Kithina, I need your help with the frost-mist. Don’t let the mist hit the sails, otherwise, they’ll freeze up. Throw all the yellow magic at it you can, just keep our sails steady,” Stryg said.

“I can try,” Kithina looked up at the sails and began to channel Yellow.

“We can’t stop all these waves, Stryg, they’re massive,” Nora frowned.

“You don’t have to stop them, just weaken them enough so that we don’t capsize,” Stryg said.

“What do you think?” Nora sent Gale a questioning look.

Gale sighed deeply. “Fine. But just know that your safety is my number one priority, Stryg. This river is several leagues wide and you can’t swim. Your blue mana will only last so far in these stormy waters. If this ship crashes, I will do all in my power to get you to shore. The others will be on their own, understood?”

“Understood. Now please stop telling people I can’t swim.”

“Aye, aye, my lord.” Gale waved him off and turned towards her task, Nora at her side.

“Stryg, we’re about to hit the fog. Now would be a great time to tell me your plan,” Freya said, the slightest quaver betraying her nerves.

“Hold on. This is going to feel strange for both of us.” Stryg channeled Purple and placed his hand on her scalp. Violet tendrils of energy extended from his fingers and sank into her skull.

Freya tensed and swayed on her feet. “What is this…?”

“I’m connecting our sense of sight. You’re seeing what I see,” Stryg replied.

“What the fuck? Are you colorblind?”

“Just focus on the icebergs.”

Freya’s golden eyes widened at the sight ahead of her. “I can see them… Holy shit, they’re everywhere.”

“Can you guide us through?”

Freya wiped the rain from her face. “If I don’t, we’re fucked.”

“Not the answer I was hoping to hear.”

The wall of mist struck the ship and slapped them with a wave of freezing cold. The rain froze in mid-air and fell down in barrages of hail. Their soaking clothes and hair quickly froze, sending shivers down the crew’s bodies.

“If you got any mystical Ebon Lord powers that could help, now would be the time to show off,” Freya said through chattering teeth.

There wasn’t any Ebon Lord spell he knew that could magically get them out of this storm, but perhaps there was something in his father’s blood that could help. He was the Navigator, god of the Azure Realm. Stryg had witnessed Nora command the winds and waters. He had even seen her call down lightning on occasion when she joined Melantha and him for training. If Holo could do it, then maybe he could too.

Stryg called upon the roiling energy beating within his second heart. It filled him with a cold sensation, liquid ice flowing through his veins. He imagined what it would be like to part the winds and command the waves to fall back. But the storm continued and grew worse the further they sailed into the magical mist. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on a feeling, anything that might help.

“Ah, I can’t see shit!” Freya screamed.

“Sorry!” Stryg snapped his eyes open.

This wasn’t going to work. He needed a different plan. The first iceberg was coming up on their right.

“Freya…”

“I’m on it!” She turned the wheel as fast as she could.

Chapter 674: Winter

The world had shifted in a blur and fallen into darkness, leaving Stryg with nothing but a floating orb of light. The strange sensation was disorientating but Stryg was beginning to get used to the book’s magic.

Seeing his father recall his childhood in a world that had been destroyed and left in nothing but ruin had made Stryg uncertain of all the things Holo and Melantha had warned him about the Calamities. He had seen his father obliterate the ebon lords’ army single-handedly. And yet the way he spoke to Stryga, Death was soft-spoken, even thoughtful. Stryg wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Show me the next memory,” Stryg said.

The orb of light shifted into a cold blue hue and expanded until it swallowed the darkness, before shifting into a scene of a wooden cabin. Stryg was a ghost, watching from the center of it all, unseen.

The brisk wind slipped through the cracks between the wooden shutters and slowly flooded the room until Stryga had no choice but to get out of bed. She groaned in annoyance, threw off the blankets and shuffled her way to the window.

Sevryn mumbled something, half-asleep.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it. Go back to sleep,” Stryga waved him back down. She closed the shutters tightly and blinked the sleepiness from her purple eyes.

Her stomach rumbled with hunger. Deciding she was too awake to head back to bed, she threw on her clothes and a fur cloak, before stepping outside.

The cold wind slapped her across the face and strands of white hair got into her eyes. She pushed her hair back and took a stroll down the village, the crunch of snow resounding with every footstep.

A dozen hunters were already up. Having cleared the snow in a large rectangle that served as their training grounds. They were going through the basic spear maneuvers Stryga had taught them.

She had to hand it to them. They were committed to the training, more so than most of the soldiers back in Holo’s Shade. Being trapped in the most deadly forest in all the realms either broke a person or forced them to dedicate themselves to survival. 

It had been three years since Stryga had taken over the hunters. Since then, their camp had become a small village. Meanwhile, more and more goblin refugees had entered the forest. But for every three entered Vulture Woods, only one survived past the first few months.

Even her hunters had taken several losses, try as she might to prevent them. The Lunisian army had splintered into several factions, each forming their own small villages throughout the forest. At first, each group only cared about trying to survive, damn the others. But as time went by, they had begun to realize what Stryga had always known; they needed each other if they were going to survive in this place.

The only problem was, among the hundred or so villages, half of them thought they were the ones who should lead. Only Evenfall could put an end to the squabbling and unite them, but the paths into the hidden keep hadn’t opened ever since Lunis fell five years ago.

The scent of venison brought Stryga back to the present and she made her way to the long cabin that served as the dining hall for their village. She grabbed a plate from one of the cooks tending the fire and the roasting meat, gave him a silent thanks, and sat at an empty table.

The table was simple in design, a slab of wood with four legs. A far cry from the furniture carved by master artists and carpenters back in the Veres manor, but there was a beauty to its simplicity that Stryga had grown accustomed to.

“Stryga, I’m surprised to see you up.” Lenore shuffled over to the table with her cane and sat down. “Weren’t you out on patrol last night?”

“Yeah. But I couldn’t sleep,” Stryga yawned. “You?”

Lenore frowned, highlighting deep wrinkles on her forehead. “Have you ever tried to sleep with two babies and a toddler?”

“I can’t say that I have.” Stryga winced in sympathy. “I remember when my baby brother was born, but he had several maids dedicated to taking care of him every hour of the day.”

“Yes, well, these children’s parents are all dead and it seems the whole village has decided it is my job to look after them.”

“Didn’t you once say as a priest of Lunae, it is your job to act as a mother to those who need you, just as the Mother Moon does so for all goblins?”

“There is a reason why we acolytes never work alone. And I’m getting old.” Lenore rubbed her wrinkled hands together. “I can’t do this forever.”

“The kids will be old enough to look after themselves soon enough. Once they can talk and get about, I’m sure the rest of the villagers can help look after them.”

“And what happens when the next orphan is dropped in my lap? Or do you think no one else is going to die?”

“You’re right. Let’s go talk to Captain Nalindor and see if something can be done about it.”

“Good luck with that, he isn’t here.”

Stryga stopped eating and narrowed her eyes. “The meeting with the other village leaders should have been over yesterday morning. He should have been back last night. ”

“Relax. It’s not as if he went off to fight a dragon. He’s just talking to a couple of friendly villages we’ve been trading with for the past year.”

Stryga shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. He should have been back already. How am I not hearing about this until now?”

“You were out on patrol. I assumed someone would have told you when you got back.”

“Outside of the hunters, few people talk to me,” Stryga sighed. “I’ll go find Halrin or Myn, see what they know. Excuse me.” She got up and left her unfinished meal.

“Hello,” a goblin greeted her as she walked out into the cold winter morning.

“Hello,” she said off-handedly and made a beeline to the hunter’s lodge.

“You seem to be in a hurry,” he replied casually and matched her pace.

“I am. Are you looking for someone?” Stryga glanced at him. He must have been one of the most recent refugees, she didn’t recognize him.

“Not anymore.”

Stryga did a double-take and noticed that his feet weren’t sinking into the snow. Slowly, she looked up and met his pale lilac eyes. “It’s you…”

“Hello, Stryga.”

She looked around, eyes darting back and forth in a panic. The last thing she wanted was Lenore or anyone else to accidentally walk up to them and annoy a walking calamity.

“Relax, no one is going to bother us,” Stjerne said. 

“Have you come to check up on me?” she asked cautiously.

“I was in the Realm. Thought I might see how my gamble was paying off.”

“You were just in the Realm?” His words implied that Stjerne could come and go whenever he wanted, even though the realm bridges had fallen and the Ebon Lords had ordered the chrome gates destroyed.

“I am a god,” he said, as if he could read her thoughts.

“Can you read my mind?”

“Do I have the ability to see your every waking thought without casting the simplest of spells? No. I’m just old and you’re easy to read.”

“But you could read my mind if you wanted?”

“Purple mages can read people’s minds with the right spell. Why should I be any different?”

“Right. Of course.” She was too tense, she needed to relax. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to gather herself. “Did you do something to Captain Nalindor?”

“What? I don’t even know who that is.”

“He’s the leader of our village. He left two days ago to meet with some other village leaders. He should have been back by now.”

“Oh.”

“Could you tell me if he’s dead?”

“Asking a favor from a god, bold of you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Relax. You mortals can never take a joke.” He winked.

Stryga didn’t know what to say. What was one supposed to say to a small child who could quite literally wipe out her entire village with a wave of his hand?

“...He’s alive,” Stjerne said.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Happy to help. I find myself in a good mood this morning.”

“Oh? Did something happen?” Stryga felt as if she were in one of those elegant dinners with a bunch of nobles, making polite small talk so as to ensure she didn’t offend any powerful noble house.

“As I said, I came here to check on my gamble, you. And there you were, asleep in bed with that white mage. It seems you’ve finally taken my directive to heart. Good.”

“Wait, you were in my house?”

“I’d hardly call it a house. It has a single room.”

“You can’t just walk into someone's home when they’re asleep.” She glared at him.

He gave her a withering look that cowed her anger into fear. “Careful how you speak to me. I am in a good mood, but that does not mean I will tolerate your disrespect.”

“I’m sorry,” she bowed her head. “I meant no offense. I was just surprised.” She stayed there, head bowed, until he finally relented and walked on ahead.

“I didn’t walk into your house. I don’t need to physically enter your house to sense your whereabouts.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense.” It didn’t. But little did when it came to gods.

They walked in silence for a while, until Stjerne broke the silence. “You have something on your mind. What is it?”

“I’m never going to see my family or friends again? Am I?”

“No. But they will live, thanks to your sacrifice. If it had not been for the deal you struck, Holo’s Shade would have been obliterated. You can take some comfort in that.”

“I need a drink,” Stryga muttered. “Gods, I miss bloodwine.” She winced, “I mean— I meant no disrespect when I said gods…”

“None taken. Though if I were you, I’d avoid bloodwine or any spirits for that matter for the next nine months or so.”

Stryga stumbled to a halt. “What did you say?”

“I told you I was in a good mood. You’re keeping your end of the bargain.”

A scream echoed in the distance. Stryga turned to see several goblins helping a wounded Nalindor into the village. She glanced back, but Stjerne was gone. Pushing back the thoughts of her own pregnancy, Stryga ran towards the goblins.

Stryga reached Nalindor; his skin was pale and his breathing was ragged. “Someone get Sevryn, hurry!” she ordered.

A goblin ran off with a nod.

“...Nelli…” Nalindor whispered.

“Who did this to you, Captain? What happened?” Stryga asked. 

“There was an ambush,” said a goblin Stryga recognized as one of the soldiers who had accompanied Nalindor.

“One of the villages betrayed us?” Stryga asked.

“No. They were others, some other village we didn’t know. They attacked us all when we gathered. They had a mage.” The man teared up but tried his best to keep his voice steady. “Nalindor protected us. The mage conjured spears from the ground. Nalindor pushed me out of the way and he…”

Stryga carefully lifted Nalindor’s red-stained shirt. A long gash ran down his back and side. There was so much blood. “Hold on, Captain. Sev is coming.”

“The white mage won’t make it,” noted Stjerne.

Stryga almost jumped at his voice. The god was standing along with the others as if he were just a goblin like any other. No one seemed to be paying attention to him.

“What do you mean he won’t make it?” Stryga asked.

“He’s lost too much blood. The wound is too deep. If they had brought your captain to the healer as soon as he was injured, then perhaps, but it’s too late now,” Stjerne said.

“Can you save him?” Stryga asked.

“Yes.”

“Please, save him,” Stryga pleaded.

“No.”

“Why not!?”

“Death is a natural part of this world. It is simply his time,” Stjerne replied, his demeanour calm.

“It doesn't have to be. You can save him!”

“Nelli…” Nalindor muttered. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of Stjerne. “You’re it, aren’t you?”

Stjerne kneeled next to him. “Yes,” he said in a soft voice.

“You’ve come to take me?” Nalindor asked weakly.

“People walk into the Chasm alone. They need no help from me.”

“My daughter…” Nalindor swallowed his own blood. “Is she… Is she in Evenfall?”

“Nelli is with her mother in the Chasm. She has been for five years.”

Nalindor closed his eyes tightly. A single tear slipped down his cheek. Then he exhaled and the strength seeped out of him, his body going lax. “I see…”

Stjerne reached out and held his hand. “I will guide you to her.”

Nalindor gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

“Where is Sev!?” Stryga looked around, hoping against the inevitable.

“Protect them, Stryga. Keep our people safe,” Nalindor whispered.

“Our people?” Stryga asked in surprise.

The light in Nalindor’s yellow eyes faded and his body went slack. Stjerne picked Nalindor up in his arms and the crowd parted, their eyes glazed over in a daze. A pair of silver wings sprouted from his back and he wrapped himself and Nalindor in their embraces. Pale light shivered through the wings in a ripple, before the feathers flared brightly, and then they were gone.

The goblins looked around as if waking up from a stupor. Stryga fell to her knees. “No,” she whispered in a broken voice.

“Stryga!” Sevryn called out as he ran through the snow. “Where is Nalindor?” he asked when he reached her.

“...He’s gone.”

“ryg… Stryg… STRYG!!!”

~~~

Stryg snapped his eyes open and sat up in bed. He was back in the cabin of the Dragon’s Hoard. Tauri was at his side, slapping his cheek lightly. “Oh, thank the gods, he’s awake.”

“Get him up!” Gale said.

“What’s going on?” he asked blearily. He felt disoriented as if dropping into another of his ancestor’s memories.

Gale drew her sword. “We’ve got a problem.” 

Chapter 673: The Calamity Children

Stryga Veres held the pressed blue flower close and walked with a spring to her step as she made her way through the campsite that had become the home of Captain Nalindor’s company over the last two years.

Many refugees had come to Vulture Woods after escaping Lunis and its surrounding lands over that time. Some found shelter with their camp, other refugees had joined with the camps made up of the other splintered Lunisian armies, none managed to make it inside Evenfall, which had kept its path closed off ever since the fall of Lunis.

Most of the refugees never made it far enough to find one of the camps and fell prey to the monsters lurking among the scarlet woods. Even now, as Stryga walked through the provisional camp, she spotted several destitute faces, eyes filled with the grim acceptance of despair. They had lost everything, their homes, friends, and family.

The sight dimmed Stryga’s happiness and she found herself slowing down. There were more sad faces today than usual. Dinner was being served and most were already in line, waiting for the cooks to cut a few slices of roasted bear meat and serve it to them in wooden bowls.

Stryga reminded herself that Sevryn was waiting for the herbs. She needed to find the herbs before nightfall. Reaffirming herself with the need of her task, she turned away from the dinner procession, but her eye caught sight of Lenore.

The old woman was a priestess of Lunae and many a refugee and soldier had sought her council since the fall of their city, in hopes of finding some comfort among all the tragedy. Stryga hadn’t dared do the same, but she had come to appreciate the old woman’s gruff, but kind attitude. Lenore was wise even for one her age and when it came to decisions for the camp, Nalindor always sought her advice.

But what caught Stryga’s attention was the infant in the old woman’s arms. “Good evening, Lenore.”

Her yellow eyes slowly looked up from the child and took in Stryga. There were dark bags under her eyes and she moved with the heaviness of age. “Ah, Stryga, hello. I heard you were the one who killed that urseid today.”

“Not quite. My team helped. I couldn't have done it without them.”

“Don’t be modest. I’ve seen your skill with a blade during the mornings when you train. I bet you could kill an urseid without breaking a sweat.”

“You flatter me. I’m not what I used to be.” Stryga held up the stump where her left hand and half her forearm used to be.

“Maybe, maybe not. In any case, thank you. Fenwyn and I appreciate your help.” Lenore held up the little baby girl. Her green, pudgy face was in a pout, as if disagreeing with whatever words the adults were saying that were clearly taking attention away from her.

“Someone doesn’t seem happy?” Stryga made little faces at the baby. “I bet she wants to see mom and dad. Where are they anyway?” They usually left Fenwyn in Lenore’s care as they went about their duties as soldiers, but they should have been back by now this late in the day.

Lenore’s grim silence said more than any words could.

“No…” Stryga whispered.

“They were both assigned to hunting duties today. Hunting teams one and two. Both teams took losses.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. This forest is cursed.” Lenore glanced around at the ashen trees surrounding their camp, as if some monster were about to jump out and attack them.

“What will happen to Fenwyn?” Stryga asked.

“She isn’t the first orphan this forest had made. But she is definitely the youngest… I’ll look after her for now. Once the path to Evenfall opens back up, I will take her to the orphanage. This forest is no place for a child.”

“You’re a good person, Lenore,” she said warmly.

“Shut up.” She slapped Stryga on the arm. “I am a priestess of Lunae. Just as she is our Mother Moon, it is my duty to be a mother to those in need around me. I am only doing what is expected of me.”

“Have you ever had any children of your own?”

“No. Our oaths to Lunae require us to give up the possibility of having our own families. We dedicate our entire selves to her divine lunar eminence.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for. I am honored to serve. It is the way of things.”

“Still, it seems… lonely.”

“We have our goddess, we need nothing more.”

“But you are the only priestess in the camp...”

“I do not expect a vampire to understand. I have served Lunae my entire life and I will gladly continue to do so.”

“Forgive me, I misspoke.” She bowed her head. 

“Take care of yourself, Blue Rose.” Lenore carried the infant away.

Stryga grimaced once the old woman had left. She regretted speaking out of turn. Stryga had met Lunae and felt the goddess’s wrath, but that did not mean others felt the same way about the Watcher. 

Stryga had always felt different. A vampire-drow hybrid in a House full of vampires. Her surname had carried weight that had dissuaded others from bothering her, but she could still always feel their eyes watching, judging. But here, her last name was a stigma, and her blue skin and fangs only marked her as different. Any mistake she made here would be judged all the more harshly.

The truth was that Stryga was greatly responsible for their current situation. Lunis was gone and their people had lost everything. And now, what little remained of the goblins were dying out in the woods, hunting for food. Stryga thought of Sevryn’s suggestion. Perhaps, she should take over the training of all the hunting teams. If she could teach them, then maybe they could survive out there in the woods. The only question was, would they even listen to her in the first place?

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Stryga pushed the question to the back of her mind. A contemplation for another time. She needed to get those herbs.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Stryga to find the herbs she needed. There was a grove full of herbs and roots not too far from the camp, near a pond. She had already collected seven of the eight plants she needed, save for a yellow flower with flecks of dark green interspersed between the petals.

She could have sworn she had seen some a few days ago, but now, no matter where she looked, she couldn’t find it. The sun was already below the horizon and the last traces of light were fading away. “Where is it?” she muttered in frustration and scanned around the grove, hoping for a small miracle.

“Looking for this?”

Stryga stiffened in fear as the melodic voice sent a shiver down her spine. Slowly, she turned around and saw a pale youth, sitting cross-legged on a small rock protruding above the pond’s surface. She didn’t recognize his face, but those pale purple eyes she’d never forget.

“Stjerne,” she whispered.

“Is this not what you need?” He held up a handful of the yellow flowers.

She nodded warily.

“Well, take it.” He gestured the flowers towards her.

She swallowed, slowly reached out, and grabbed the flowers, before quickly pulling back as if his touch might burn her.

“It’s good to see you, too,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” she finally worked up the courage to ask.

“I’m not going to kill you if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said flatly. “I’m simply checking up on you. Like I said before, I’m betting on you.”

“To do what exactly? You never told me.”

“To survive.”

“And do what?”

“My, you’re full of questions tonight, aren’t you?”

“Only if it does not bother you. If not, I’ll hold my tongue.” The last thing she wanted was to offend a god. She had done so already and it had cost her everything.

“No. No, don’t do that. Relax. I rather enjoy conversation, at least with those I’m interested in. To answer your question, I need your bloodline to continue.”

“Yes, so that one day when you come back, my descendant’s life will be forfeit, I remember. But what do you want with them?”

He cocked his head to the side, so much so that it reminded her of an owl. “Does it matter? You already made the deal. I could simply kill that descendant one day and you’d have no say in the matter. You struck a divine bargain, remember?”

“I thought you said you’d answer my questions?” she said slowly, accepting the risk that her words might annoy him. If they did, she wouldn’t ask another question.

He cracked a smile. “Not what I said, but I suppose it could be inferred. She’ll help me save the world, but there is a good chance she’ll die in the process. Satisfied?”

Stryga felt her face grow pale, but she pushed on. “So you need a woman?”

“What I need is a perfected one. The woman is simply a potential way to get there.”

“What is a perfected one?”

“Perhaps one day you’ll live to see it. Or perhaps not. Your species live such short lives.”

Among the Ebon kin, none lived longer than the vampires; few among the other Realms’ kindred could match their lifespan, either. The idea that someone thought their lives short, felt ludicrous, if not outright insulting. And yet, there was no such malice behind Stjerne’s eyes. 

His eyes were a swirl of purple light that seemed to lull her into a dream. She could practically fall and—

“Focus,” he snapped his fingers and brought her back.

“Sorry, I— what was that?”

“Don’t stare too long. My eyes aren’t meant to be gazed upon by mortals.”

“Oh. I, uh, okay.” She nodded slowly, somewhat dazed. But this time, she made sure to keep her eyes downwards.

“So, any more questions for me?”

“You don’t mind?”

He laughed. “Not at all. I enjoy the conversation. I have very few interesting ones these days. I’m quite busy. Being here is like a break of sorts. Ask me whatever you like, though I can’t promise you’ll like my answers.”

Stryga didn’t know if she could believe him and had a gut feeling that he was here for more than just conversation. He was up to something, but she didn’t have the luxury of knowing what that might be. So, instead, she did the only thing she could. “Who was it that took Gwyn?”

“The Gale girl?”

“Yes. Who took her?”

“That would be my little sister, Fear.”

“Her name is Fear?”

“As is her nature. It is a part of her, as much as her flesh and bones.”

“And who were the others at the hot springs?”

“My siblings. Agony and Desolation.”

“What sort of names are those…?” she muttered.

“Primordial ones. Gifted to us by our mother, the soul of this world,” his words took on a solemn tone.

“And your name is Stjerne?”

“I have many names. But the one my mother gave me is Death.”

Stryga felt her stomach turn. The thought of dying tonight no longer felt like such a far-off possibility.

He noticed the worry in her eyes and gave a disarming smile, “You may call me Stjerne. It is what your paternal ancestors called me when they first set their eyes upon my visage.”

“My lord Stjerne,” she said carefully, “if I may ask, what has happened to Gwyn? Is she… does she still live?”

Stjerne closed his eyes for a long moment. “Yes, she lives still.”

“Is she alright? Is she hurt?”

“I do not know. Fear drags her toys somewhere deep and far away, where no one can steal them. I blame the habit on Agony.”

“Are you saying Gwyn is a toy?”

“Gwyn’s life belongs to my sister. Gwyn is whatever Fear says she is. Whether that is dead or a toy, neither of us has a say in it.” Stjerne noticed her clenched fists, “You disagree?”

Stryga released her clenched fists and exhaled deeply. “...We are not toys to be played with by gods. We are people, not objects.”

“A toy isn’t so bad, they can be cared for, protected. The right object can hold more value than the right person. How many have been killed in pursuit of your precious Krikolm over the centuries?”

“Many, people are greedy. That doesn’t invalidate my point.”

“True, but even among people who aren’t greedy, there are those who would die for an object, even a small one.” He pinched his fingers together. “People aren’t as valuable as you think.”

“Are you implying life is cheap?”

“Life is cheap, Stryga.”

“Is that so?” She found herself holding back a scoff. He reminded her of so many arrogant nobles from back home. The kind that sent thousands of soldiers to die on their behalf to destroy a city full of innocent goblins. He didn’t care what happened to those at the bottom, he had never seen what it felt like to struggle to survive. Neither had she, until recently. He was just a god, playing with the lives of mortals.

Stjerne stared at her in silence and she suddenly felt exposed as if he could somehow read her thoughts.

“People will kill each other over anything, even a scrap of bread. You should have realized that by now, general.” Stjerne held his hand over the pond from where he sat on the rock and wiggled his fingers as if manipulating the strings of a puppet. A glob of water arose and formed into the shape of a loaf of bread. “We had very little growing up. The world was not as it is now, or what it was before then. At the time, the land had been— fractured. Whether it was from the fiery blood of the earth splitting open, the poison miasma seeping into the air, the destruction of food leading to starvation, or what desperate people always do when they have nothing, the end result was the same; countless people dying.

“The lucky ones were those who died in the initial shockwaves of space ripping open as the world fell apart in ten jagged splinters. But we few, the children of a Primordial, were immortal. Even when hunger ate at us, even when thirst threatened to drown us, we did not die.”

As Stjerne spoke, Stryga’s eyebrows furrowed, until finally a horrible thought of realization struck her. “You were born in the Sundering Age…?” If that was true, then he was as old as the Realms themselves.

His lips curled in a slight, bittersweet smile. “I was born the day the world was Sundered. My siblings were still in the womb. They were born a few months later, all to different mothers who died not long after, but we were each infused with a fragment of our true mother on that fateful Sundered day.

“The five of us were scattered across the Realms. Hope and I found each other first, or rather, she found me. Somehow, we knew, the moment we laid eyes on one another, we knew. She was a part of me, just as I was a part of her.”

“Hope?” It was the first time Stryga had heard the name.

“The only other born on the same day as I. We were four years old when we met. We had no one but each other. Our powers were only beginning to develop, but Hope somehow managed to lead us to the others not long after. Agony was relieved to not be alone. Des was skeptical, uncertain, as if having a family was too good to be true.

“And Fear, well, she was the most sensitive of us. She was sweet, kind, and she was scared at the sight of all that ruin and death. The people that were left turned on each other, blaming my kind for what had happened. Dragons hunting down and massacring what remained of my kind didn’t help.” Stjerne sighed, “All those things haunted Fear for a long time. She bore it quietly, but it affected her more deeply than we realized— until eventually, it became a part of her.”

Stjerne wiggled his fingers and the loaf of bread turned into a little girl made of water who danced to an invisible tune. “At the time, I understood so little, I just wanted to cheer her up, so I made my sister a doll from what bits and pieces I could find in the remains of the land you now call the Ashen Realm. I wasn’t very good with my hands, I was only six. The doll was misshapen, crude, really. 

“But Fear cherished it, more than anything. She didn’t let anyone touch it, not even when Agony asked to play with the doll. One day, when Fear was sleeping, Agony borrowed the doll just for a little bit. Unfortunately, Agony’s abilities were beginning to manifest, and her power responded to her emotions. She accidentally incinerated the doll. It could have happened to any one of us, but it happened to her.”

Stjerne snapped his fingers and the watery sprite fell back into the pond. “Agony was mortified. It made no difference. Fear was heartbroken. I still remember holding Fear as she cried herself to sleep that night. She didn’t speak for weeks after that; she only held my hand. You see, when you have so little, you realize that an object, even a small one, can mean the whole world to you.” He glanced pointedly at the pressed blue flower hanging from Stryga’s pocket.

Without realizing it, she had placed her hand over the flower protectively.

“Ever since then, Fear has kept her toys away from others. You will never see Gwyn Gale again, I doubt any of us will,” Stjerne said.

“Then how do you know she’s alive?”

“Because I know she’s not dead.”

“...What does your sister want with her?”

“What indeed?” he mused.




(AUTHOR'S NOTE:)
I usually aim for about 2k words when writing chapters, but I felt as if these last two chapters needed more to round up their scenes, especially this one. I ended up writing an extra 1k words this chapter, but I still don't feel fully satisfied with the chapter's scene, but I don't want to make you all wait longer either. It is what it is. Thanks for reading~
~Frostbird

Chapter 672: The Blood Fang Hunters

A scream broke the silence of the forest. Drale and Nalindor glanced at each other, a silent exchange of words. Leaping out of their hiding place among the bushes, they dashed towards the sound of the screams. They slung their bows on their backs and pushed their legs as fast as they could take them.

Where, for a moment, there had been a single scream, now there were several joining in. An ear-splitting roar drowned out the screams and shook the scarlet leaves of the ashen trees all around. The screams grew louder, then began to fall one by one.

Nalindor prayed to all the gods that would listen that they would make it. As if a spiteful deity had heard his pleas, Nalindor broke through the treeline and came across a stream.

The third hunting team was strewn about the river and rocky shore. Nalindor froze at the sight of the carnage. His fellow goblins dyed the water red around them. Half their bodies had been torn to little more than viscera. A massive bear larger than any he had seen loomed over the corpses, dark scales covering its back.

Urseid, the term echoed in the back of his mind. Old Lenore had mentioned the species from her days reading about them and other Vulture fauna as an acolyte in the Celestial Shrine. He had hoped her stories had been exaggerated. They were not.

A single woman lay among the dead, her leg torn wide open from a long gash. She whimpered quietly and dragged herself away, but the urseid had its yellow beady eyes on her, and moved in for the kill.

A chill ran through Nalindor’s body and he thought of his little girl. Had she managed to escape Lunis’ ransacking? Had she made it to Evenfall? He had to live, if not for his own sake, but for hers. He couldn’t leave Nelli alone in this world.

Nalindor stood still with indecision until Drale almost crashed into him from behind, breaking him from his fear. Nalindor met the wounded woman’s eyes, Alia, and his decision was made.

“Get Alia out of here!” Nalindor shouted and drew his bow and let two arrows loose on the Urseid in quick succession.

“Yes, Captain!” Drale said.

The arrows did little and bounced off the dark scales harmlessly, but they did grab the monstrous bear’s attention. It roared with indignity and charged Nalindor. He glanced at Drale, who was throwing Alia over his back, then turned back and fired one more arrow before running in the opposite direction from Drale.

Memories of Nelli rushed through his mind. Carrying his little girl in his arms as she fell asleep. Watching her take her first steps. Teaching her how to swing a wooden sword as he pretended to be a troll. Having to say goodbye to her when he left Lunis for war.

Something sharp swiped at the back of his leg and caught his calf. Nalindor went tumbling to the ground and his head smacked into the dirt. Dazed, he looked up at a scarlet canopy until the urseid came into view, casting a shadow over him. 

The urseid bared its salivating maw and opened wide. A spear fell from above and sank into its eye. The bear flinched and the spear failed to go deep enough for the kill, yet it had done its job. Roaring in pain, the urseid stumbled backwards, lashing out at nothing.

“Avoid the scales! Go for its underside!” shouted Stryga as she rushed out from the trees and stood between the Nalindor and the urseid.

He had never felt so relieved to see the cursed one. Several more goblins came into view, and quickly surrounded the giant bear. Nalindor recognized them as the unofficial fourth hunting team, formed from a ragtag group of goblins who had chosen to follow the vampire’s teachings rather than stay back at camp. 

Half the goblins in the fourth team hadn’t even qualified to be accepted into the three hunting teams and had been remanded to stay at camp doing other jobs instead. Nalindor himself had deemed them unfit for excursions into Vulture Woods. Many were refugees from Lunis who had been barred from entry into Evenfall. They weren’t soldiers. They were too scared, inexperienced, or simply lacked what it took to be a soldier in this damned forest. And yet, here they were. Unafraid, bows in hand, arrows notched, eyes steely in focus.

With her single remaining arm, Stryga drew a simple steel sword from her hip and pointed at the urseid. “Loose!” 

The fourth team fired in unison. Several arrows splashed harmlessly off the urseid’s scales, but several found their way into its thick hide. The bear roared, but Stryga didn’t give it a chance to react. She sprinted forward in a blur and dived below the bear’s massive body. With four quick slashes, she sliced at its ankles, and rolled out from underneath it.

A deep moan of pain erupted from the urseid and it collapsed, unable to hold its weight. Blood frothed at its black lips and it tried dragging itself towards Stryga to no avail.

“Fire at will!” Stryga ordered.

The fourth team didn’t hesitate. They fired volley after volley at the beast until its moans of pain became nothing more than dying whines. Finally, the beast fell silent.

“We did it!” Shouted one of the younger hunters, a young man hardly older than seventeen.

“It’s no time to celebrate,” said Halrin, gesturing to the grim sight of their fallen comrades from the third hunting team.

“Dear gods…” the young man grimaced in horror.

“I’ve seen dire bears before but this was… something else,” muttered another hunter.

“That’s because it isn’t a dire beast. It is an urseid. They’re uncommon this far from the mountains.” Stryga turned to Nalindor, “Captain, are you alright? Can you stand?”

How he wanted to say yes and to shrug her off, but the sharp pain in his calf told him otherwise. “...I can’t,” he sighed.

Stryga crouched down, ripped off the last bloody tatters of his pants where the urseid had caught him, and used the cloth strips as a makeshift bandage. “This should stop the bleeding for now. Myn.”

“Yes, Huntmaster?” Myn appeared at their side, standing at attention. Where once she had seemed timid and afraid, the last two years had hardened her. She held herself with an air of certainty and her yellow eyes tempered as steel.

“Take your squad and escort the wounded and Drale back to Sevryn at camp, he’ll take care of the rest,” Stryga said.

“Drop them with the healer, understood,” Myn nodded.

“Make sure to come back with haste. I will not leave the bodies of the third hunting team to be food for the animals. And I’d rather not linger here until nightfall,” Stryga said.

“At once, Huntmaster.” Myn beat her fist to her chest, bowed her head, turned on her heel, and went to work. With a quick shout, three others broke off from Stryga’s hunting team. Two of them helped Nalindor to his feet, wrapping their arms under his shoulders, while the last gave Drale a hand with Alia.

“Halrin, your squad is on lookout,” Stryga said. “The scent of blood may attract other beasts. The rest of you gather the bodies of the dead and line them up at the side of the stream. When you’re done, wash up, and help me with cutting this giant of a bear. I want us done and ready to leave when Myn’s squad comes back.”

“Yes, Huntmaster!” the fourth team said in unison.

“Stryga, a word,” said Nalindor. Myn’s squadmates paused in their steps and brought him over to Stryga.

“Yes, Captain?” A flicker of uncertainty crossed her purple eyes.

“...Thank you,” Nalindor whispered. He hated to thank the woman who had commanded the armies that ransacked Lunis, but she had saved his people’s lives today, and his honor wouldn’t let that go without comment.

Stryga relaxed her tense shoulders. “No need to thank me. My hunters are doing most of the work.”

“When you first started training them, I thought you were up to something, possibly sabotaging us or worse. When I realized you were earnest in your endeavour, I thought you simply stupid. But now… Well, your Blood Fang hunters are quite something,” Nalindor admitted begrudgingly.

“Are they still calling themselves that?” Stryga blushed and winced.

“Well, whatever you call them, you’re doing something good here,” Nalindor said in a gruff voice.

“That sounded almost like a compliment,” she beamed.

“Forget I said anything.” He shook his head and urged the two goblins at his side to help him along.

“Thank you, Captain. When I came to you, I had lost everything…” Stryga whispered, her voice turning raw. “But these men and women who dare believe in me and call themselves my Blood Fang hunters, they give me purpose. I cannot return that trust with nothing but my all. If you need me, Captain, I will be there.”

Nalindor grumbled in acknowledgement and went on his way.

~~~

“How are they doing?” Stryga knocked on the door and stepped inside into one of the few buildings in their camp, or as like many had taken to calling it, a makeshift village. The small log cabin, made by a couple of carpenters who had joined them in the last refugee wave, served as the infirmary. It was a simple affair, but Sevryn kept it clean and made sure the carpenters had added several windows to air out the stale air of the sick and wounded.

“Ah, Stryga, you’re back,” Sevryn lit up at the sight of her. “They’re hanging in there.” He shrugged with a yawn, “I used all my mana, but they’re hanging in there.”

“What would we do without our healer?” Stryga smirked.

“Probably die. Were there any other survivors?"

“No,” she whispered. “We can’t keep losing so many people.”

“I know… but what else can we do? There is only so much we can forage for, we need to hunt for food. The plants in this forest are practically magic. They’re so rich in nourishment that the deer herds are incredibly abundant. It’d be foolish not to hunt them.”

“Except we’re not the only ones hunting deer.”

“That’s the problem. But if we can get more people to learn your hunters’ methods, we might have a shot at surviving in this place.”

“Maybe…”

“Maybe? Do you really not know the effect you’re having on those goblins? Your hunter ‘squads’ have the least amount of deaths by far. People want to know your secrets.”

“It’s just some advanced military tactics and simple weapons training, nothing more. Most of the people here were never trained to fight, let alone hunt in packs. I’m just teaching them how to fend for themselves when I’m—” She stopped herself from saying anymore.

Sevryn narrowed his eyes. “When you’re what?”

“...When I’m gone. I can’t use my magic anymore and I only have one arm. So far, I’ve been lucky. I don’t know how long that luck will last in this forest. There are far more dangerous beasts than urseids in Vulture Woods.”

“That’s why you have your Blood Fang hunters, right? To support you when your luck runs out.”

“Oh, please, don’t call them that?” She grimaced abashedly.

“Come on, you know they love it, right? They’re building up a reputation and not just in our camp but the few others we’ve encountered have all been impressed by the ‘Blood Fangs.’ Don’t shy away from it, you’ll only embarrass them.”

“Can we talk about something else, please?” She pleaded. “Have you had dinner yet?”

Over the last few months, she had grown used to sharing dinners with the only other mage in the camp. He had been the only one to treat her with openness from the first day they met. Stryga was surprised to find how much she enjoyed his company and without realizing it, dinner had become the part of the day she looked forward to the most.

“Not yet. I’ve been busy taking care of the wounded. The third team wasn’t the only one that took losses, I’m afraid,” Sevryn said.

Her expression grew dark. “How many did we lose?”

“Four dead. Nine wounded.”

“We can’t keep this up.”

“I am well aware. Maybe if you took over all the hunting teams, we might stand a chance.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please. The soldiers hate me. They’d never listen to any of my commands, let alone training.”

“That was before. For the last two years, they’ve kept seeing their friends and loved ones dying around them. You’d be surprised how many are willing to swallow their pride if it means living another day.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Just think about it, okay?”

“Fine. Dinner, please? I’m starving,” She gave him a pleading look.

“Yeah, let’s go— Oh wait.” He winced, “I actually ran out of a few herbs for some poultices I was going to make. I still need to go collect them before it gets dark.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Just give me a list.”

“Stryga, I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve already been out of the camp all day. You need to rest. I’ll get a couple of the foragers to join me and we’ll be done in an hour.”

“I can halve that time. And unlike the medically untrained you call ‘foragers’, I actually know what to look for. I won’t need to risk anyone else by going out of the camp.”

“I don’t know…”

Her lips curled in a mischievous grin. She drew close, until her chest was at his eye level. “Come on, Sev. I can take care of myself.”

He looked away, to her disappointment. “F-Fine. You can take one of my medical journals. I have written down all the herbs I need on a single page. I’ll put a bookmark in so you can know which page.”

Grinning wider in success at her little ploy, she stepped back and nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

He rummaged through his table, his back turned to her. “One sec, just need to find my bookmark.”

“You lost it? You love that ugly thing,” Stryga teased.

Sevryn had carried a strip of cloth with him ever since his days as a novice mageborn. It had once belonged to a washcloth that he had on him the night he discovered his magic while he was working at a tavern. Ever since then, he had called it his lucky washcloth. Over the years, it had grown frayed and torn. Now all that was left was a narrow strip that was stained through the years.

“Don’t mock my lucky washcloth, it’s saved my life more than once.”

“It should be an injustice to even call it a washcloth, you know.”

“Says the princess.”

“I’m not a princess.”

“Yeah, because you didn’t grow up with a household of servants at your every beck and call.”

“That makes a noble lady, not a princess.”

“Yeah, same thing. Ah, here we are. Now, don’t lose the bookmark. Keep it close.” He turned around and handed her the journal.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have your precious journal and bookmark back to you soon,” she winked.

“Thanks, Stryga. You’re a good friend,” he said with genuine warmth.

“Friend. Yeah, you bet,” she said stiffly and walked out. Why Sevryn’s words threw her off, she didn’t know. They were friends, weren’t they? That was a good thing, right? So why did his words bother her so much?

There was no point in dwelling on such thoughts. The sun was already beginning to set. She needed to hurry. Opening the journal, she found a pressed blue flower instead of the usual strip of cloth.

She held the flower up and felt the faintest of blushes touch her blue cheeks.

Chapter 671: A Story for the Bards

“May I enter?” asked Lily with a knock on the doorway.

Holo glanced up from her desk and waved her in. “Ah, Lilandria, come in. How is Loh?”

Lily walked into the study and closed the door behind her before answering. “She’ll recover, but her wounds are extensive. She needs rest.”

“Yes, I can only imagine. Being possessed by a wraith puts great strain on the body and judging from Unalla’s account of events, you pushed Loh far beyond her limits.”

Lily narrowed her scarlet eyes. “It was the only way to keep the Noir family safe. And I didn’t possess her. Our bond allows us to co-exist in a single body. It’s different.”

“Is that so? Hm.” Holo shrugged slightly and went back to reading from an old tome that had seen better days. 

“What are you doing?” Lily asked, walking over to get a better look.

“I’m researching old arcane sigils used in magical prisons. I’m hoping to find a pattern with the ones that were in the pit that trapped me last night.”

“For what purpose? If you seek to understand the meaning of the sigils in the pit, I can help.”

“For a price?” Holo cocked an eyebrow.

“Naturally. I am a wraith.”

“Naturally. But no. I can study the pit in more detail later. I’m trying to find out any connection with the pit’s sigils and any of the great magic orders from the Realms. If I can find a connection, I might be able to figure out who was behind the attack.”

“We already know who was behind the attack. I told you, it was Agony.”

Holo sighed and put the book down. “I remember. But I’m searching for alternatives.”

“Why do you seem so adamant in denying what is so plainly obvious? They had Agony’s daggers. Only she could have crafted them. You said you encountered one of Agony’s children. What more evidence do you need?”

“Enough to be certain.”

Lily scoffed. “For someone who distrusts Calamities almost as much as I do, I’m surprised you’re so quick to defend Agony.”

“I’m not defending her.”

“Then why? Why did you dissuade everyone about Agony back in the meeting?”

“Because.” Holo’s expression grew dark. “Do you know what it’s like to fight a Calamity, one who doesn’t hold back? They have earned their names many times over. You do not cross a Calamity lightly. If we are about to declare war on Agony, I wanna be damn sure she is our enemy.”

“She has always been my enemy, she wiped out my people,” Lily whispered with venom in her voice.

“Even more reason to stay away from her. And for all we know, Agony still doesn’t know where you are. I’d rather keep it that way, if we can.”

“This is assuming that Agony didn’t send those assassins to kill us all.”

“True. But if she did, then you might as well run away and hide, because there is no way we can stop her from killing you if she finds you.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Lily scowled.

“Because of Loh?”

“I will not leave her.”

“She is not a possession for you to keep.”

“I am well aware of what she is. And she is not a pawn for you to manipulate either. If you want something from me, ask me. Do not try to weasel your way into her ear just to get secrets out of me. It will not work.”

“You’d share the wraith’s infamous trove of knowledge? Just like that?” Holo asked, her expression somewhat skeptical.

“Not without a price, but for you, I’ll give this one for free.”

“Oh? I’m listening.”

“Several of the assassins’ cloaks went missing earlier tonight, along with a particular blue goblin and his Shadow.”

“What?” Holo jumped to her feet. “Where is Stryg?”

“I imagine by now he’s sailing down the Dire River towards Murkton. You’re welcome to chase after him, but you risk leaving your son and granddaughter exposed if the assassins return.” Lily sauntered to the door.

“And you only tell me all of this now?” Holo growled.

“And leave Loh exposed?” Lily smirked and left the room.

“Fucking wraiths,” Holo cursed.

~~~

“Wow, this is nicer than I thought,” Tauri whistled as she walked around the spacious room that would be Stryg and her cabin. It was twice the size of her father’s cabin on his own pleasure ship. The bed could fit four people easily and was draped in silk blankets and a small army of pillows with golden tassels. A polished standing mirror was placed next to a pair of desks with open cabinets displaying all sorts of personal-care items, such as oils, elixirs, and more.

Stryg stepped in front of the standing mirror and stared at his own reflection. He could hardly recognize the boy from Vulture Woods. It hadn’t even been a whole three years since he had left. And now here he was, on one of the fastest ships of the Ebon Realm, owned by the wealthiest noble in all the land, who also happened to be his close friend. Younger Stryg would never dare believe it. He smiled to himself.

“When it comes to luxury, the Goldelms are nothing if not thorough.” Gale leaned on the doorway, arms crossed, her face staunch in impassivity.

“You disapprove?” Tauri smirked.

“I prefer simpler quarters,” Gale said. “Things like this can make one go soft over time.”

“If that’s true, then,” Tauri opened her arms and let herself fall backwards into the bed, sinking into its comfort. “Bring on the softness.”

“What do you think, my lord? My lord…?” Gale asked.

“Huh?” Stryg blinked and looked away from the mirror. “Oh, it’s nice, I guess.”

“See. He likes it,” Tauri said in triumph.

“That isn’t what he said.”

Stryg threw down his leather satchel and began to rummage through its contents. 

“I wish Rhiannon were here to see it. She’d like it, I think,” Tauri mused.

“Why isn’t the centauress warrior here?” Gale asked.

“I thought you didn’t want more people to come?” Tauri asked.

“Rhiannon is a loyal warrior, who happens to be able to traverse long distances with great speed and without tiring. If there was anyone I’d want on this journey, it would be her. Not all of you,” Gale added the last part almost as an afterthought.

“Rude,” Tauri said.

“Rhian chose to stay behind. I think she was worried about Lysaila,” Stryg said.

“Why?” Tauri asked.

“She found out some things about the beastkin’s curse,” Stryg sighed. “Lysaila will be alright, she just needs time.”

“I see…” Tauri yawned. “I don’t know about either of you, but I’m exhausted.” She shimmied under the covers and closed her eyes.

“Typical. You’ve hardly done anything today, but you’re already too tired to do anything more,” Gale shook her head.

“I was training just before we left,” Tauri glared at her.

“Pfft. Only for an hour. If you were truly serious about becoming a great battle mage, you would train well into the night.”

“Not all of us can be nocturnal, you know.”

“Blaming your own species for your weakness? How disgraceful.”

“At least I don’t become a walking tomato if I step out into the sun for more than five minutes without a cloak on,” Tauri said.

“I really don’t get what you see her in, my lord. Whatever made you interested in this pampered woman in the first place?” Gale said.

“Her ass,” Stryg said off-handedly, his focus entirely on the contents of his satchel.

“Excuse me?” Tauri sat up, her amber eyes staring at him like daggers.

Even Gale seemed surprised.

Stryg blinked and looked up. “Her ass…thetics?”

“You’re sleeping on the floor tonight,” Tauri said.

Gale laughed. “He’s nocturnal, he doesn’t have to sleep at night. He only does it because you do. And unlike you, my lord is a true warrior, sleeping on the floor will pose no hardship for him.”

“Fuck you both,” Tauri turned her back to them. “I’m considered one of the premier beauties in all of Hollow Shade, I had letters sent by suitors every week. I was the eye of every ball I went to. My very presence demanded respect. Now I have to deal with this idiot duo everywhere I go,” she muttered in contempt.

“I was just answering Gale’s question.”

“Seriously? That’s all you have to say?” Tauri scowled.

“What? Gale asked what was the first thing that caught my eye, right?”

“You’re supposed to say a lady’s kindness or elegance—”

“But you’re not kind. You hit me all the time.”

“It’s not like it even hurts you! And you bite me all the time!” Tauri said. 

“I like the taste of your blood and I heal you afterwards.”

“That’s not the point! We’re going to be married soon, and when we’re invited to noble parties, everyone will ask us how we met, what we liked about each other, etcetera! You can’t say things like that.”

“Like what?” Stryg asked.

“All of it! We have an image to maintain, Stryg,” Tauri snapped. “If someone asks us how we met, it needs to be something romantic, something that makes the nobles nod their heads and says to themselves, ‘how fitting for the Ebon King and his Queen.’”

“I’m not a king and besides, we hated each other for the first couple of years.”

“Stryg—”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t notice you were beautiful,” Stryg tried to explain.

A faint smile touched the corner of Tauri’s lips. “Hm. That could work, actually. A story of enemies becoming lovers. Yes, the bards could sing stories about that.” 

“About how an instructor at the magic academy fell in love with a student, how improper I mean romantic,” Gale said sarcastically.

Tauri glared at her. “Not that Stryg was ever much of a student, he was always skipping my class, but we didn’t begin a relationship until after he graduated from the academy, for your information. And like he said, we weren’t very fond of each other.” 

“So what changed?” Gale asked.

“She taught me how to swim, I guess that’s when things first started to change,” Stryg recalled.

“Yeah, he’s right,” Tauri replied softly.

“But Stryg can’t swim, he literally sinks like a rock. He just uses blue magic to move around in the water. You really suck at teaching,” Gale laughed.

“Get out of my room,” Tauri said.

“I am my lord’s Shadow. You do not command me.”

“Stryg, tell her to get out.”

“Ah, found it.” Stryg reached into his satchel and pulled out his great-grandmother’s book of memories.

“Stryyyg, what are you doing?” Gale frowned.

“Look after my body, please,” Stryg channeled mana into the book. His eyes glazed over and his body sagged.

Gale sighed and carefully picked him up, before placing him on the bed next to Tauri. “You ever think his headaches are because of this damned book?”

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Tauri whispered, her amber eyes tinged with worry.

Chapter 670: A Dwarf & A Friend

“Boat approaching off port side!” called out a sailor.

Stryg leaned over the edge of the Dragon’s Hoard to get a better look. It was dark, but his eyes easily caught Belle standing atop the bow of a small rowboat. She was channeling Blue and making the water propel the rowboat forward.

“Am I late?” Belle grinned up at them.

“Just on time,” Stryg reached his hand down.

Belle tossed a leather sack over her shoulder, and kicked off, sending the front of the rowboat dipping dangerously close into the water. Belle soared several meters and caught Stryg’s forearm. He clasped her forearm tightly and pulled her up in one smooth motion.

Belle landed with an even wider grin, “You’re stronger than I last remember.”

Stryg looked up at the giant of a vampire, or rather a titan, he supposed, and matched her grin with his own. “Getting worried about our rematch?”

“Never, cousin.”

“Um, what is she doing here?” Kithina asked.

“Kitty…” Cal whispered.

Belle’s smile fell. “Oh, I, uh, heard from Gale that Stryg was heading to Murkton. I wanted to help.”

“Cal told me your mother ordered you to stay in Hollow Shade. By leaving the city, won’t that cause agents of the Ebon Order to chase after us?” Kithina asked.

“I mean, maybe?” Belle winced.

“What happens if the Order does come after us? Will they attack us?” Nora asked, already moving to the railing of the ship to keep an eye out for anyone else on the massive river.

“No one is coming after us. The ships in the harbor are all still frozen. Even if they managed to break one out of the ice, they’d still need to thaw out a path out of the harbor,” Gale said.

“There are other ships besides this one that weren’t in port when the moon goddess froze the harbor,” Freya pointed out.

“In that case, we should get moving,” Stryg said.

“Aye, aye, m’lord,” Freya gave a mock salute with a foolish grin and headed over to the ship captain. 

“Good to see you, Sylvie,” Kegrog nodded and followed after his partner.

“So, we’re all okay with this?” Kithina gestured vaguely to Belle.

“The goddess of war will be at Murkton. I can somewhat shield us from Lunae giving us any trouble, but I can’t do anything about Bellum. Her daughter can. Belle stays,” Stryg said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“Fine.” Kithina sighed and strode off towards the bow of the ship.

“I’m gonna go get settled in,” Stryg muttered.

“As will I.” Gale followed after him. Tauri wasn't far behind.

“Sorry about that,” Callum said quietly.

“It’s fine, Kitty makes a good point,” Belle said, though the pain in her eyes betrayed her.

“For what it’s worth, I am glad to have you with us,” Callum said.

“Thanks, Cal,” Belle said with genuine warmth in her voice.

“Okay, come along,” Nora grabbed Callum by the arm and dragged him away.

“Huh, what are you—?”

“Shh, those two need to talk,” Nora admonished Callum.

Belle could only watch them go, before resigning herself to her own awkward discussion. She walked over to where Kithina sat, her legs dangling between the boat’s railing.

“Hi.” Belle leaned over the railing, or at least tried to. The wood rails barely reached up to her thighs. If she wasn’t careful, she could tip over and fall into the icy water.

Kithina’s green eyes shifted for a brief moment before going back to staring at the water. “Most ships aren’t designed for dwarves. This one is, the railings are just the right height. But I find myself still preferring to sit like this. It’s odd, isn’t it? Things change, but people usually don’t.”

“Sometimes they do.” Belle thought of her mother and how she had changed after Caligo had murdered Belle’s brothers and sisters. The mother she knew had disappeared that night and she never really came back.

“So, are you like, super old?” Kithina asked.

“Huh?”

“You’re some kind of goddess, right? That means you’re immortal. So how old are you, really?”

Belle chuckled. “I’m more of a demi-goddess and I’m really just 22. A year older than most of you, but I’m not some ancient granny either.”

“Huh,” Kithina muttered, not even bothering to look up at her.

Sylvie’s shoulders drooped. “Look, I’m not very good with talking to people or ‘reading the room.’ I didn’t really get out a lot growing up. So uh, if you have a problem with me, please just tell me. I don’t want us to fight.”

Kithina sighed deeply. “...I don’t have a problem with you, Sylvie. I think I did, for a long time. I was jealous, I guess.”

“Of me? Why?”

Kithina gave her a dry look. “Really? You were one of, if not the most powerful mage in our academy. And if that wasn’t enough, you weren’t some bookworm who all she did was study, you hardly ever touched a book. No, you’re a 2-meter-tall goddess who catches every eye in the room without even trying. You were perfect, you are perfect, I guess.”

“Me?” Belle gaped, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? I ran away from home because I was never enough for my mother. She wanted me to be like my siblings, but I could never meet her expectations. My father never took my side either, he always deferred to ‘o’ great Bellum’. I was alone, Kitty. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I ran. And then I met all of you guys and I thought, for once in my life, I had friends, people who didn’t care that I wasn’t perfect, that I just wasn’t enough.”

“I… I didn’t know that.” Kithina’s lips curled wryly, “I guess having a goddess for a mom must be hard.”

“Oh man, you have no idea. What are your parents like—?” Belle’s face paled in horror, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

Kithina’s eyes grew distant. “My mom was one of the sweetest people you’d ever meet. She supported me through all my ups and downs. Dad was ecstatic when they discovered I was a mageborn. I ruined his whole office with an accidental wind spell, but he didn’t care. He was so proud. I didn’t want to disappoint either of them. So I tried to be the best student I could. Then I met Callum, Freya, and other nobles.”

Kithina clasped her hands together in a shaky grip. “It was overwhelming. I thought to myself, ‘What am I doing here?’ I’m just a commoner rubbing shoulders with scions of ancient Houses, who, if they wanted to, could have my family killed with a snap of my fingers. Then there was Stryg. Here was a guy who was at the bottom of the barrel. A nobody, outcast, a goblin from Vulture Woods for crying out loud. I thought that if he could somehow make it here, then so could I.”

“You thought he was a nobody?” Belle made a skeptical face.

“You didn’t know him back then. First time I met him, he stumbled into class hungover, smelling worse than a drunk covered in vomit. Even worse, I had to sit next to him. But I was going to be a mage, I was going to make my parents proud, I was going to travel the world… So I ignored Stryg and swore to do my best.”

Belle sat down next to Kitty, but her legs were too thick to fit through the rails, so she opted to cross them instead. “What happened next?” she asked eagerly.

“Professor Rime assigned us group projects for the year. I was put with the ‘Callum Veres.’ I was going to be in a group with an actual Veres. My family wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it.”

“But weren’t you already sitting next to one?”

Kithina blinked. “Huh?”

“Stryg is a Veres, too. Heir of House Veres, actually.”

“Yeah, I guess he was, is,” she corrected herself. “I never thought of it like that... Gods, it’s still weird that Stryg is Lord Veres now. Anyway, through a lot of hardships and late nights studying together, we all became friends. Things were looking good. I thought we’d graduate and become heroes of the realm, like the stories they tell in taverns. Then Clypeus died… And nothing was ever the same. Stryg grew withdrawn, Callum wasn’t much better. Then you showed up. And you…”

“I made things worse?” Belle grimaced.

“No, you… were just trying to make friends. I can’t blame you for that, even if some part of me really wants to.” Kithina ran her hands through her orange hair and sighed. “But you had secrets, you still have secrets. The kind that hurt Callum.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“Bullshit. Don’t answer that. Just— look, I’m only here to help my friends and save lives.”

“So am I.”

“Are you? Because there is still so much we don’t know about you. How do we know when things get hard, you won’t just split and join up with your mother?”

Belle frowned. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Like what happened in Undergrowth?”

Belle pulled back as if she had been struck.

“Yeah, I heard about that. You left, while everyone was fighting for their lives. You were part of the Ebon Order. Which means you had people in the city who could have helped, but none of you did anything. ”

“I’m not with the Ebon Order, not right now at least. I’m here as your friend.”

“We were never friends.”

Belle swallowed the lump in her throat. “I thought we were.”

“Well, we’re not.”

“Oh…”

Kithina sighed, “Sorry, I know that’s rude to say. I just don’t have it in me anymore to try and be polite about this. But I’m not here to antagonize you either. I’m willing to put aside my personal resentment for the sake of this quest. Nevertheless, the truth is that we really don’t know anything about you. You’re the outsider on this team, one who already failed us once back at Undergrowth. So forgive me if I trust you as far as I could throw you.”

Kithina got up and walked away.

“You’re right,” Belle called out. 

Kithina stopped and looked back, eyebrow cocked. “About what?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Belle’s voice trembled as she spoke. “But believe me when I say I know how you feel. I’m here for the same reasons you are.”

“You know how I—?” Kithina scoffed. “Your parents are still alive. For fuck’s sake, your mother is an immortal goddess. So don’t tell me you know how I feel.”

“Caligo murdered my sisters and brothers. I was only a kid. I hid behind the door and watched… I couldn’t do anything. I was so scared. I just watched. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I had done something, anything.” Belle took a shaky breath and tried her best not to tear up, “Sometimes I wonder if my mom wishes they were here instead of me. I was ashamed and I hated myself for not being enough… So I ran, and I kept running, but not anymore. I’m here to save the lives that I can, even if it’s just a handful. You may not be my friend, Kithina, but I am yours. So I will fight for you and everyone else on this ship.”

“Sylvie, I…” Kithina faltered.

Belle wiped at her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “You don’t have to say anything. I know this doesn’t change anything between us. I just wanted you to know that you’re not alone. Excuse me.” Belle bowed her head and quickly left.

Kithina watched Belle go, guilt swelling up in her chest. “Goddammit!” she groaned quietly.

Chapter 669: Ship & Crew

Freya Goldelm leaned back in the chair, propped her feet on the desk, and steepled her fingers, and stared at her guests sitting across from her. “So, you want my Dragon’s Hoard?”

Gale and Evelyn Katag glanced at each other. “Um, we want a ship…?” Gale hazarded.

“We require the fastest seafaring vessel not frozen in a block of ice in the port. My contacts inform me that your House has recently managed to excavate such a ship from the ice,” Evelyn explained.

“Your contacts were wrong,” Freya said flatly. “We haven’t managed to get a single ship out of the ice yet. We’ve spent the last two days assessing damage to the hulls of our fleet to ensure they won’t sink the moment they enter open water. I’m not sure how they did it, but the Sylvan army did serious damage to the entire port worth of ships with that massive wave of ice.”

“So this was useless,” Gale muttered and got up to leave.

Evelyn clenched the armrests of her chair, but kept her expression pleasant. “Are you sure you have no ships free from the ice?”

“Even if I did, what would the Lady of House Katag need with it?” Freya asked.

“A simple voyage, it shouldn’t take longer than a few days, one week at most,” Evelyn explained.

“And where would such a ship be sailing?” Freya asked.

“Nowhere too far, I assure you. I will pay handsomely. Thrice the usual rates.”

Freya gave Evelyn a long, hard look. “Uh-huh. Look, my father and you never really got along, on account of you and your husband siding with the Noirs, who were, until recently, on the other side of many council decisions.” Freya held up her left hand, “Katags and Noirs,” then she held up her right hand, “Veres and Goldelms. So forgive me if I don’t trust your word.”

“If you didn’t trust me, why even bother entertaining this meeting?” Evelyn asked.

“Because I trust a Veres,” Freya glanced at Gale.

“I’m not a Veres,” Gale replied.

“My father said the Gales and Veres were one. I see no reason to doubt him now,” Freya said.

Gale sighed, “We need a ship to get to Murkton.”

“I should have guessed. The city of orcs. I get why you wish to go, Evelyn, you probably have plenty of contacts there.”

“It isn’t some contact. My firstborn child is in Murkton. I need to get him out of there before— I know our families haven’t gotten along great these last few years, but this is my son. Please, I’ll pay whatever amount of gold you wish,” Evelyn held nothing back and hoped it was enough.

“I understand... Is that why you’re here, Gale? To help convince me? Or do you need a second ship?” Freya asked.

“No second ship. House Veres and House Katag have entered an alliance, as you are well aware. I am simply here, honoring said alliance,” Gale said.

“I wasn’t sure you would take this meeting as soon as possible if Gale hadn’t petitioned for it,” Evelyn admitted. 

“I see, smart.” Freya sighed, “Unfortunately, even if we had managed to thaw a ship out of the ice, I couldn’t risk its crew by sailing them straight into Murkton. We all saw the frozen fleet. The Sylvans are preparing for war. I’m not sure what sort of magic they have, but I can’t knowingly put my people in danger for a bit of gold.”

Evelyn bit her lip and stood to her feet. “Thank you for your time.” She turned and headed for the door.

“I’m sure we can come to a compromise,” Gale said.

“We’ve wasted enough time here. I need a solution, not more stalling from a little girl who may or may not have a ship,” Evelyn said.

“Evelyn, wait—”

“Leave her be, Gale. I’m sure she can find her own way out,” Freya said.

Evelyn slammed the door open and stomped out.

Gale cursed under her breath. “You don’t have to antagonize her like that, you know.”

“She called me little.”

“Gods, I heard you were petty, but I didn’t think you’d be petty enough to deny Lady Katag the chance to save her son.”

“Did Stryg tell you I was petty?”

“No, Callum did.”

“I’m gonna punch him in the face next time I see him.”

“You’re admitting to hurting a Veres in front of a Shield of Veres?” Gale cocked her eyebrow.

“Yes,” Freya said unabashedly.

“Right, well. Thanks for your time, but I should go find Lady Evelyn.”

“Look, this isn’t about some pettiness with the Katags. I’ve only just become head of my House. I need to put the lives of my people first. How would it look if one of my first orders is to send a ship and her crew to their guaranteed deaths? Or do you not think walking into an army with Sylvan ice magic isn’t suicide?”

“I understand, I do,” Gale reluctantly admitted. “It wasn’t Sylvan magic. The goddess of the moon destroyed the port and created their frozen fleet, not the goblins. I don’t think there is any mortal alive who could have achieved that feat.”

“A goddess?” Freya whistled. “And you still want a ship to go to Murkton? Are you crazy?”

“I don’t want to go to Murkton. Stryg does.”

Freya frowned. “Stryg?”

“Yeah, he’s dead set on going himself. You know how he gets.”

“Wait, you didn’t tell me Stryg was going.”

“What difference does that make? Were you hiding a ship in port after all?”

“No, I wasn’t lying. All the ships in port are frozen.” Freya smirked, “Fortunately, the Dragon’s Hoard wasn’t in port that day.”

“The Dragon’s Hoard?”

“One of our fastest ships. She arrived last night. She is docked a league away from port. I thought it best to keep her at a distance in case anyone grew desperate enough to try and steal her.”

“You’re helping us? What happened to not putting your crew in danger for a bit of gold?” 

“This isn’t for gold. This is for a friend. Knowing Stryg, he’ll go with or without my help. And I’ll be damned if I let him wade into that battle alone.” Freya hefted her golden hammer resting behind the desk and placed it on her shoulder. Oginum hummed faintly with power.

“Wait, you’re coming with?” Gale did a double-take.

“What kind of lord would I be if I let my crew go by themselves?”

“Freya, this mission will be more dangerous than I let on. I don’t even want Stryg going—”

“We can talk about the details later. I am meeting up with Callum and Kitty for lunch in a few minutes.” And with that, Freya walked out of her office, whistling a happy tune.

~~~

As the sun began to set, Stryg found himself sitting in a rowboat with Tauri as Gale rowed through the Dire River. It had been easier to sneak away from Holo than he had thought. She had been distracted by the recent attacks by the unknown assassins.

“That’s the ship?” Stryg asked as he stared up at the gilded boat floating in the middle of the churning waters.

Its hull was narrower than he imagined, with a sleek design that would have given it an air of ‘swiftness’ if it wasn’t for the gold plastered across the hull.

“That’s a lot of gold,” he muttered.

“It’s not real gold. Just paint. It’s not easy to make metallic paint like that, though. The Goldelms must have paid a hefty price for the red mages to make so much,” Tauri surmised.

The ship was a labour of love, that much Stryg could tell as they drew close. Intricate designs decorated the hull’s every plank.

A shipmate spotted their rowboat and shouted a couple of orders to someone behind him. A few moments later, they threw down some rope. Gale tied them to the rowboat and gestured for the sailors to pull them up.

When they reached the top, Stryg hopped onto the ship with a light step, Gale and Tauri following suit. The sailors quickly got to moving their supplies below deck. Freya was waiting on the deck, a broad grin plastered on her face. “Welcome to the Dragon’s Hoard, Lord Veres.”

“Freya, it’s good to see you—” Stryg stopped when he caught sight of the ones standing behind her. “What are you all doing here?”

“Well, cousin, I wasn’t about to let you have all the glory,” Callum winked, but winced in pain at the action.

“What happened to your eye?” Stryg asked.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” Callum said.

“Freya told us your plans over lunch. I… I couldn’t save the people I cared about when Hollow Shade was attacked. If I can help Miss Tauri save her brother, I will,” Kithina spoke in a solemn voice.

“Thank you, Kithina,” Tauri said with sincere warmth.

“I didn’t want to go. Freya forced me to come,” Kegrog admitted with a grumble.

“Shut up, you big oaf! You’re ruining it,” Freya kicked him in the shin.

“You guys didn’t have to come,” Stryg said, though his small smile betrayed his feelings.

“On the contrary. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you go all alone,” said a familiar voice from behind.

Stryg turned around and froze, surprised. “Nora?”

“This isn’t Widow’s Crag. We’re not letting you stay behind while we head to safety. This time, we’re in this together, Stryg.” Nora grabbed him by the shoulder.

“What about Kamilo? He’s—”

“He’s fine. Stellan and Willow are looking after him. He’ll be safe with the Gale siblings,” Nora assured him.

“I may have spoken with a couple of people before we left. I was hoping they’d convince you to stay in Hollow Shade, but mentioning your name had the opposite effect,” Gale sighed.

“I wasn’t going to let you use my ship if you didn’t let us all come along,” Freya explained triumphantly.

“Ooh, that’s why you brought the extra cloaks,” Tauri said to Gale.

“Boat approaching off port side!” called out a sailor.

Stryg leaned over the edge and saw Belle standing atop the bow of a small rowboat. She was channeling Blue and making the water propel the rowboat forward.

“Am I late?” Belle grinned up at them.

Chapter 668: Headaches

Stryg rummaged under his bed and pulled out a couple of cloaks.

“Is that what I think those are?” Tauri said, eyes wide.

Stryg nodded. “I had Gale go back and retrieve them from the assassins we killed.”

“What are you planning to do with them?” Tauri asked suspiciously.

“I’m not letting you go to Murkton alone.”

Tauri frowned. “What? But you said—”

“I know what I said.”

“Then why?”

“That’s the same thing I asked him,” Gale muttered from the corner of the room.

“Because I know you’re going to go no matter what I say,” Stryg admitted.

“Of course, I am. My brother’s life is at risk. If I don’t get him out of the city, he’ll die,” Tauri replied.

“And if you go, your life will be at risk. I don’t see the Sylvan army differentiating from one orc or another. To them, you’ll all be the enemy,” Stryg said.

“Lucas is worth the risk,” Tauri said.

“Which is why I’m going,” he said.

“I mean, I appreciate it, I do,” Tauri squeezed his hand, “But what about Lunae? What changed your mind?”

“Let me worry about Lunae.” Stryg shrugged and held up one of the cloaks, “That’s what these are for. I haven’t been able to figure out how to activate their distortion effect—”

“We believe the cloaks are linked to their owners,” Gale added.

“But their magical shrouding ability seems to be a passive trait. We tested the cloaks against a couple of wards Gale set up and they didn’t set off a single ward,” Stryg explained.

“Okay, but how does that help us against Lunae?” Tauri asked.

“That’s what I said,” Gale nodded.

“Lily said the cloaks offer concealment against magical wards and farsight,” Stryg said.

“You really think they’ll prevent Lunae from seeing us?” Tauri asked warily.

“Think about it. Whoever set up the pit that trapped Holo must have been at it for several days, if not weeks. Lunae would have noticed them building the pit, but she didn’t. Which means the cloaks work,” Stryg said.

“Okay, even if that is the case, and that is a big if, Lunae does casual, cursory glances all around the city. It’s not as if she were focused on finding some assassins. If she had, we don’t know if the cloaks would hold. And she’d definitely be looking for you, if you suddenly disappeared. For all we know, she is watching us right now. It’s not as if my wards could stop her,” Gale said.

“True, but I have no intention of hiding my plans from her. There is no way to know when she is watching me, so I have to assume she already knows what I’m going to do,” Stryg said.

“So why even bother with the cloaks?” Gale asked.

Stryg smirked, as if he knew something they didn’t. “Say I put on the cloak right now and I don’t take it off until we reach Murkton. Lunae will notice I’ve disappeared and she will definitely be suspicious of whichever ship we take down the river.”

“Because the harbor is still frozen and even if a ship was thawed out, no captain would be dumb enough to sail to Murkton right now after witnessing the goblin armada sailing down that way,” Gale noted.

“Exactly,” Stryg said.

“Your plan isn’t sounding very convincing,” Gale said dryly.

“In theory, not yet, no,” Stryg said. “Luane will probably be waiting for us by the time we reach the Silent Marshes. But what if we slip into the marshes before the Sylvan warriors catch us? With the cloaks on, they won’t be able to find us. It doesn’t matter if she knows we’re coming. Once we reach the marshes, she can’t stop us. We could slip into Murkton unnoticed and sneak Lucas out.”

“This is all counting on the fact that the cloaks will really hide us from Lunae’s divine farsight,” Gale pointed out. “And we still have to somehow navigate through the Silent Marshes. Some areas are flat grasslands, but others are almost entirely covered in water.”

“I spent several summers down in Murkton. If we reach the Silent Marshes, I can get us to Murkton,” Tauri said.

“We’d have to move through the night, it’s the least likely chance we get spotted by goblins or orcs. Can you guide us in the dark?” Gale cocked an eyebrow.

“I’m not a vampire or goblin if that’s what you’re saying,” Tauri crossed her arms.

“Exactly, you don’t have night vision. And you’re not a black mage either, you can’t cast a spell to help you see in the dark either,” Gale said.

“She won’t have to. It’ll be a full moon by the time we arrive. There’ll be enough light to guide us through the dark,” Stryg said.

Gale stiffened. “It’ll be a full moon?”

“You ask that like it’s a bad thing. What aren’t you saying?” Tauri said.

“Lunae blessed me with a shard of her power,” Gale held up her white lock of hair against the rest of the blonde strands. “Ever since, I’ve been doing my best to learn more about the gods. I’ve gone through every arcane history book in our library regarding the Ebon Pantheon. Lunae is the goddess of the moon. She grows more powerful the closer we are to the full moon.”

“Okay, what’s your point? It’s not like she’s our enemy,” Stryg said.

“No, she’s your step-mother, and you’re disobeying her direct order. Back during the siege, you said Lunae fought a fox goddess. If Lunae could fight that goddess to a stand-still during a new moon, what do you think she could do during a full moon?” Gale whispered.

“I don’t really know,” Stryg admitted.

“And you still want to disobey her?” Gale asked, incredulous.

He met her scarlet gaze. “Yes.”

“This is a dumb plan.” Gale shook her head. 

“Then why are you going along with it?” Tauri asked.

“Because I know that if I don’t, then Stryg will go behind my back and sneak out anyway,” Gale glared at the guilty goblin in question.

Stryg held his hands up, his face a perfect picture of innocence. “I haven’t done anything. And how would I manage to sneak anything past you? I can’t even take a piss in my own house without you having a guard posted outside the bathroom. Besides, you’re my Shadow, I’d never leave the city without you.”

“You’re a shit liar, you know that?” Gale scoffed.

“No, I’m not.” Stryg looked at Tauri for support.

Tauri winced. “It’s not your strong point, sweetheart.”

“I have two hearts and neither is sweet,” Stryg thumped his chest.

Tauri smiled at the gesture. It was meant to appear fearsome, but she couldn’t help but think he looked adorable, though she doubted he’d appreciate the observation.

“Okay, how about this? Did you ever sneak out of your village back when you were a kid?” Gale asked.

“Hmm, maybe once or twice?” Stryg waffled his hand back and forth.

Gale narrowed her eyes, marched up to him, and poked him in the chest. “You think I don’t know?”

“Uh…” Stryg took a step back.

“I spoke with Lady Aurelia. She told me you used to sneak out of the village almost every single day, ever since you could walk! You were just a toddler and you were already creating problems for everyone!”

“Seriously?” Tauri frowned. “How could a toddler survive in Vulture Woods all alone?”

Stryg scratched his cheek and looked away. “I dunno, it was fine, I guess.”

“Ignore him, Tauri. I had the same question, which is why I consulted Lady Holo about it. Turns out the Traveler has the uncanny ability to go unnoticed while roaming about, as if things simply fall into place for him. Uncle Gian experienced it firsthand when Stjerne snuck into the mansion to heal Lady Aurelia.”

“Seriously?” Tauri stared at Stryg, amber eyes wide.

“I can’t do that. Believe me, I would have definitely used something like that if I could,” Stryg said.

“Then explain how a toddler managed to sneak out of a Sylvan village every day without fail?” Gale pressed.

“I got lucky?”

“Your mother put up wards, Stryg. They would have picked up anyone leaving the village, but you somehow made it past every time. You don’t find that— strange?” Gale cocked an eyebrow.

Stryg stared at his hands. “I did that…?” How had he not noticed? More importantly, why had he never done so since? Such an ability would have been useful countless times. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the memory, a feeling. Lunae had told him titan abilities were rooted in emotions. Perhaps if he felt like he wanted to disappear from notice, then it might work.

“Can you see me?” He cracked an eye open.

They both stared at him like an idiot. 

“Let me check,” Gale drew her blade and slapped his shin with the flat side of the sword.

“Ow.”

“Yup, I can see you,” Gale said.

“Great…” Stryg grumbled. Was he missing something? How had he done it when he was a child? He hadn’t tried to disappear when he snuck out of the village. He simply walked out. But why did he sneak out in the first place? What was he looking for?

An image of Vulture Woods flashed through his mind. Ashen trees, scarlet leaves. A giant white wolf curled up in a grove. He was on top of the wolf, her thick fur providing a soft cushion for him to lie on. She was humming a song to him, no, a lullaby, as he drifted to sleep.

A sharp pain stabbed at his brain and brought him back to the present. Stryg grimaced and fell to the floor, head held in his hands. “Agh…!”

“Stryg!” Tauri rushed to his side, but Gale reached him first. The vampire picked him up, ignoring his weight, and carefully placed him on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Gale asked.

“I saw something… A memory,” Stryg muttered and slowly opened his eyes. Why was Luane there? He was a child. Why hadn’t she mentioned their meeting before?

“Stryg, talk to me. What was the memory about?” Gale asked.

“Let him rest,” Tauri said softly.

“I’ve seen him have a headache like this before, but never this bad,” Gale said.

Tauri said nothing and held Stryg’s hand instead.

Gale gave her a suspicious look. “You don’t seem surprised. How often has this happened?”

Tauri nodded reluctantly. “The headaches have become more frequent over the last few weeks.”

“It’s fine… they’re not that bad,” Stryg whispered. 

“You’re both just telling me about this now!?” Gale threw her arms up. “Unbelievable.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” Stryg mumbled.

“We need to get you to a white mage. And a purple one, too,” Gale said.

“Wouldn’t make a difference,” he said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Gale asked.

“I heal faster than mortals. Physically, I’m fine. I’ve checked. And mind spells don’t work on me, so a purple mage wouldn’t find anything either.”

Gale pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed dramatically. “You need to rest. We’ll talk about plans to leave Murkton in the morning.”

“You’re not going to try and stop me?” Stryg asked.

“As I said, you’d sneak out if I did. Probably.” Gale released her wards and opened the door to leave.

“Where are you going?” Stryg asked.

“To find us a ship that isn’t stuck in all that ice. I hear a certain lady has already set free one of her best ships. Let’s hope she’s willing to part with it,” Gale said. “Take care of him, Tauri.”

“I will,” Tauri nodded.

Satisfied, Gale nodded and closed the door behind her.

“I’m a grown goblin. I don’t need to be taken care of,” he grumbled to Tauri.

She smirked and slipped into bed with him. “Not at all?” She stroked his pale silver hair.

“...Maybe a little.” He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his skull. Tauri’s touch made it easier.

Tauri nestled close. “Thank you for coming with me,” she whispered.

Stryg wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

Chapter 667: A Meeting of Titans

Una knocked on the door with a soft rasp. When there was no response, she slowly pushed the door open just a tad. “Lily, the meeting is about to start.”

Lily sat next to Loh’s bed. The latter was thankfully unconscious. Kaitlin, the lead white mage of the Singing Willow Troupe, had administered a sedative elixir to spare Loh the pain. The backlash of the wraith merging had been exacerbated by the use of spells and lifeforce skills too advanced for her body. 

Now, Loh lay unmoving save for the faint rising and falling of her chest. Lily watched her with a downcast look, dark bags under her scarlet eyes.

“I’ll keep watch of her while you’re gone,” Kaitlin offered from the corner of the room, where she had set up a desk. Several anatomy and arcane books were strewn on the small table.

“...I’ll be back.” Lily leaned down and kissed Loh softly on the cheek, then left. She stopped at the doorway and spoke without meeting Una’s eyes, “The others?”

“Loh’s parents are doing fine, they're having dinner downstairs with some of the others,” Una replied. “Ismene is resting in the next room over. Lord Vayu Glaz was taken back to his manor by his servants after Kaitlin stabilized him. He should make a full recovery. …Are you alright? I heard you haven’t let Kaitlin or any of the other healers check on you.”

“I’m fine, please lead the way if you will,” Lily gestured.

Una seemed as if she wanted to say something, but decided against it and led Lily out the door and through the winding halls of the Veres manor. A pair of Gale blade masters were guarding the library and they stepped aside when they saw Una and Lily approach.

Before they entered, Una turned to Lily. “I never thanked you for saving my daughter.”

“Don’t thank me. Thank Loh when she wakes up.” Lily stepped past her and walked inside.

The two-story room was fairly large and had an extensive collection for a private library. It was the shared library of the Gales and Veres, and it carried books they had been collecting since the age of Ebon Lord Koval. The library was a repository of knowledge of magic, weapon arts, geography, secrets, and more. Which was why it had been enchanted with hundreds of wards and was therefore the most secure room to have a meeting in the entire mansion.

Stryg sat in a large wingback chair at the end of a round table, the group had gathered around. He practically shook with irritation and impatience. And if it wasn’t for Tauri sitting in the chair with him, he probably would have been pacing around the room. Instead, he held her close, his arm wrapped around her waist protectively, as if someone might jump out of the shadows and attack her. 

Aurelia gave her son a disapproving side-eye from the next seat over, but he didn’t notice. Gale and Gian stood behind their respective wards, hands clasped behind their back. 

Holo sat at the other end of the table from Stryg, her focus entirely on the black cloak lying in front of her. Calantha Ashe and Belle sat next to one another, the latter sipping her third cup of tea. Una walked over and joined her husband and daughter. 

Lily spotted an empty seat next to Calantha, but instead, she dragged another seat over next to Holo and sat down. Holo raised an eyebrow in curiosity but said nothing.

“Thank you all for coming,” Holo began.

“It is an honor to be among your kind, Lady Holo,” Calantha smiled.

“I live here,” Stryg replied.

“Stryg, be quiet,” Aurelia chastised.

Holo sent Aurelia a silent thank you before continuing. “Tonight, it seems we were all attacked by an unknown common enemy. The question is— who? At first, I thought they were targeting my family and me. The man I encountered told me as such. However, they did not target Una. Which led me to believe that it had something to do with my bloodline, not the Noirs. This was later supported by the fact that my brother was attacked. The issue is, so were you,” she glanced at Belle.

“We were attacked as the sun went down,” Belle nodded.

“Just like the rest of us. It denotes a conjoined effort. Which leads us to a more prominent problem,” Holo steepled her fingers. “Someone is hunting titans.”

“But who would be so foolish as to even dare try?” Gale asked. “Last I checked, most titans are gods.” 

“Which is why they conveniently attacked the day after Lunae’s departure. Nel and Bellum have also left the city,” Holo said.

“Which implies they knew about their identities and whereabouts. Bellum’s arrival in Holo’s Shade was a secret only a select few people knew,” Calantha noted.

“They also attacked after sunset, when my powers were at their weakest,” Belle added.

“They were waiting for the moment we were at our weakest. It is what a hunter would do,” Aurelia said.

“Except, Holo was still here. If they knew about Bellum, surely they knew about my sister,” Stryg said. “Why would they risk attacking while a goddess still resides in the city?”

“They had a plan for that, too,” Holo sighed. “Some of my people discovered a pit with highly advanced arcane sigil patterns. Not even an archmage would have been able to decipher it all. The only person in the city who could was me. Our enemy knew I would go to investigate why such a pit existed in the Commoner District. Turns out, it was a trap, an arcane prison meant to hold someone as powerful as me.”

“How could they have made something like that?” Stryg asked.

“It implies our enemies have a being whose powers lie beyond those of an archmage. Few mortals have ever achieved such power,” Gian said.

“We managed to trap a few assassins in my manor, but they quickly killed themselves by activating an enchanted collar,” said Calantha. “The thing is, the Grey curse that was holding them should have prevented the collar from activating at all. Whoever created those collars possessed power beyond mortal-kind.”

“Are we dealing with a god?” Stryg asked.

“Worse. A titan god,” Holo muttered.

“My mother and I encountered him. He is likely the one who created the arcane pit as well,” Atlas said.

“He called himself ‘One.’ He is a son of the Calamity of Agony,” Holo said, her voice filled with consternation.

“Did you kill him?” Stryg asked.

“No, he escaped,” Holo said.

“Could you kill him?” Stryg pressed.

“I don’t know,” Holo admitted. “He was stronger than I anticipated. Even with Lyrae and my Flicker magic, I couldn’t land a strike. Though neither could he.”

“Forgive me, Lady Holo, but are you saying a Calamity ordered all of these assassinations?” Calantha asked. “Because if that’s the case, how are we supposed to deal with a Calamity?”

“No, I don’t believe One was working for Agony,” Holo said.

“How do you know that?” Stryg asked.

“Because—”

“It was Agony,” Lily spoke up, her voice cold. “Agony did this.”

Holo furrowed her brow. “How can you be so sure?”

“This,” Lily held up the black cloak in front of Holo. “I’ve seen these before. It is an enchanted cloak capable of passing undetected through most wards and distorting the wearer’s visage from others. Alongside various protective enchantments, its greatest ability is that it can hide its owner from farsight, even that of a moon goddess.”

“Interesting, but how does that confirm Agony’s involvement?” Atlas asked.

“There is only one being capable of creating these enchantments, because they require a unique, powerful, and ancient chaotic magic that only one being possesses. Agony,” Lily explained.

“It could have been her son,” Holo said.

“No. There are certain magical feats only a Calamity can achieve, this is one of them.” Lily withdrew a golden dagger from her sleeve and tossed it on the table. Several people made faces of recognition.

“I saw a man who had that same dagger,” Stryg growled.

“It is imbued with a sliver of Agony’s divine elemental power. Only she could impart that power into an object. Not her son, nor daughter. Only she,” Lily said.

“One had a dagger like that, too,” Atlas said.

“Perhaps One stole them from Agony?” Holo said.

“Along with dozens of the most uniquely enchanted cloaks in the world?” Lily said.

“Maybe?” Holo shrugged.

Lily frowned. “Why can’t you simply accept that Agony sent assassins to kill us?”

“Because Agony would never do that,” Holo shook her head. 

“Do what? Kill people? She eradicated my entire people,” Lily seethed.

“Your people?” Tauri whispered without thinking.

Everyone turned to look at her. 

“Sorry, forget I said anything,” Tauri winced. She had forgotten how sharp a vampire, let alone a titan’s hearing was. The last thing she wanted was to involve herself in the problems of gods. From the stories she heard, it never ended well for mortals.

“Look, I’ve met the Calamities,” Holo said. “Among all four of them, Agony is the only one who actually cares about mortal kind. I’d even go so far as to say she is a good person.”

“A Calamity is not a good person. They aren’t people. They are walking calamities of nature. They were born out of the pain and rage of a wounded World Soul. Their nature is one of retribution, not justice,” Lily argued.

“Even still. Each Calamity has internalized that nature differently. Agony doesn’t wantonly seek to inflict pain. Rather, she despises those who inflict pain.” Holo glanced at Lily, “It’s why she committed genocide on your people.”

“Agony tortured my sisters before she killed them,” Lily scowled.

“I didn’t say Agony doesn’t inflict pain, just that she doesn’t do so without cause,” Holo said.

“Then why attack us?” Belle asked.

“My point exactly. Agony has no reason to attack all of us,” Holo nodded.

“You built a wall out of thousands of helpless souls your city damned into execution and eternal servitude,” Lily said dryly.

Holo winced, “Well, fortunately, Agony doesn’t hunt family. And I am still her niece.”

“How lucky for you,” Lily glared at her. “I, on the other hand, have been hiding from Agony for centuries. So, forgive me if I am skeptical of her involvement in trying to murder us.”

“So if Agony isn’t behind this, then who is?” Stryg asked.

“...I don’t know,” Holo admitted. “We recovered fourteen cloaks and some of the assassins’ equipment, but I’ll need more time to examine them and their bodies. Hopefully, I’ll find a clue or two.”

“Can we ask Agony?” Stryg asked.

Lily stiffened in panic. “Do not tell Agony of any of this!”

Holo gave her a sympathetic look. “We aren’t going to talk to Agony. It’s not as if I would even know where to look. The Calamities are all secretive, their whereabouts included. Even if I did find her, I wouldn’t tell her about you, Lily.”

Lily nodded stiffly, though she didn’t seem altogether convinced.

“So what do we do now, Grandma?” Unalla asked.

Holo leaned back in her chair and sighed. “Keep an eye out for the enemy. I doubt they’ll attack us any time soon after their last failure, but you should all stay nearby, preferably in the city, until we know more.”

~~~

The meeting lasted another hour, with each group retelling how they had been under attack in more detail. The sun was beginning to set by the time Holo declared the meeting over. A servant was waiting outside the library to lead them to dinner, but Stryg declined, which immediately raised Tauri’s suspicions.

Stryg let everyone know he was retiring early for the night and headed to his room. Tauri quickly announced her shared sentiment and followed after him. Gale was never far behind.

When they reached the bedroom, Tauri grabbed Stryg by the shoulder and turned him around to face her. “Okay, spill it. What is going on?”

Stryg glanced at Gale, “Close the door.”

Gale closed it behind her and quickly began writing red sigils in the air. They flared to life and formed a barrier over the walls. “It’s secure. No one will be able to hear anything we say.”

“Good.” Stryg rummaged under his bed and pulled out a couple of cloaks.

“Is that what I think those are?” Tauri said, eyes wide.

Stryg nodded. “I had Gale go back and retrieve them from the assassins we killed.”

“What are you planning to do with them?” Tauri asked suspiciously.

“I’m not letting you go to Murkton alone.”

Chapter 666: Trap

The window exploded in a burst of golden flames as Belle grabbed one of the assailants by the arm and tumbled down. For once, the man opened his mouth, only to scream as he plummeted to his death. Belle held him tight, her body covered in flames as she landed on top of him. His body splattered with a wet crunch into the hard cobblestone of the courtyard.

Belle heaved her shoulders, her breath ragged, and pushed herself to her feet. It had been a nightmare trying to catch the little bastard. Her senses told her five different men were somehow standing in one place and at the same time, they weren’t. But an inner sense, borne from her divine war nature, told her a different story. A single man hiding in a blanket of distortion.

Only now, as he lay dead beneath her, was his body still. She needed answers. Who were these people? What were they doing here? And what was with this strange magic? It wasn’t chromatic, that was for certain. It seemed almost—

“Belle, watch out!”

A sharp pain dug into her leg. The arrow lodged clean into her thigh. Belle glanced up to see three more assassins standing at the edge of the courtyard, one of them knocking another arrow.

A powerful wind swept through and slammed the three of them into a wall. “This way!” Calantha stood in the manor’s doorway and waved Belle over.

“Perfect timing,” Belle grinned and yanked the arrow. The golden flames swirling over her body burned the poison from her flesh before it could spread, but the poison had already done its work. Her leg was already growing numb. She limped over to Calantha as quickly as she could.

Once Belle reached the doorway, she turned around and prepared to face her enemy, a maniacal smile on her face. “You cover, I’ll fire.” Blue tendrils of electricity crackling around her fingertips.

“What? No.” Calantha gave her a look.

“But we need to fight back!”

“No. Follow me, hurry.” Calantha didn’t even wait for a response and rushed inside.

Belle glanced between the assassins rising to their feet and back at Calantha’s fading back. She cursed under her breath, slammed the door closed, and hobbled her way towards the vampire.

Calantha moved fast, even for a vampire. And Belle found herself struggling to keep up. Her leg had gone stiff, but it was more than that. Her golden flames had already petered out. The lack of sunlight had made it hard to draw upon her grandfather’s flames and she could feel her inner light growing dim. A poisoned leg only made it worse. How there was a poison that could even affect her titan physiology, Belle didn’t know.

If it had been the daytime, she could have drawn power from the sun and channeled it into raw strength. But the sun had already set. The idea that these assassins knew when to strike at her weakest bothered Belle more than she’d like to contemplate.

After a solid minute of hobbling through the mansion, she found Calantha standing in front of an unassuming wall, waiting. 

“Apologies, Belle. I’d lend you my arm if I could, but my hands are currently busy.” Calantha was writing red arcane sigils into the wall, her eyebrows furrowed, brown fingers moving with uncanny speed.

“Whatever you’re doing, do it fast. They’re coming.” Belle stepped in front of Calantha and channeled Blue.

“Done!” Calantha said triumphantly and slammed her hand into the wall just as the three figures came into sight at the end of the hall.

Red, brown, and grey arcane sigils flared to life all around the manor, from the walls, to the ceilings and floor. Dozens of needle-thin ropes of light latched out from the sigils and wrapped around the assassins, holding them in place.

“What the…? How did you do that?” Belle muttered, amazed.

“Remember, I told you how your mother had the Order inscribe complex wards into the manor years ago? She may have had the Ebon Order passively add to them over the years, especially after you came to the city last year. She even added to them while she was here recently. The entire manor is one large complex confinement curse. Every assassin that has stepped into the premises has been trapped.”

“Usually I complain about how over-protective Mom is, but…” Belle limped over to the three assassins. “This is nice. Don’t tell her I told you that.” 

“Of course, my lady.” Calantha bowed her head.

The strange distortion effect around the assassins had disappeared and Belle finally had a good look at them, though their faces were still hidden by their black cowls.

“Can they move if I take off their hoods?” Belle asked.

“No, the curse holding them is quite powerful. You can move them, stab them, punch them, they will not move. Their bodies are paralyzed, save for their ability to speak. Perfect for torturing intruders to get information out of them.”

“Is that right?”

“They killed several of my guards, we will not go easy on them,” Calantha said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Belle smirked.

“Then I shall get started right away.” Calantha drew a thin knife from her sleeve. “Who are you and why did you attack the Ashe manor?”

The assassins said nothing.

“They attacked at night. And whatever poison coated their arrows was potent enough to hurt me. You wouldn’t need anything like this to kill a vampire,” noted Belle.

“So they know who you are. Interesting. Do you think they have anything to do with the people who tried to kidnap you last year back at the academy dorms?” 

Belle frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“This would be easier if you hadn’t torched all the kidnappers,” Calantha said dryly.

“I’m aware,” Belle rolled her golden eyes.

“In any case, if they are the same group, then they failed once and now are trying again. This time with more—” Calantha glanced at the quiver hanging from their hip. “Assurances.”

“Man, it really didn’t work out for you lot, did it?” Belle said.

The assassins kept their mouths shut.

“I don’t expect you to speak, not yet. Even with a bit of torture from my cousin, you won’t say too much, I wager,” Belle tapped a finger to her lips. “But that’s why we have purple mages. They’ll extract whatever secrets you’re hiding. This,” she pointed to Calantha as the woman slowly stabbed one of the strangers’ hands, “Is only the beginning.”

One of three opened their mouths and muttered something so quiet, not even Belle quite caught it. “What was that?” she asked.

But then the other two quickly began to mutter something as well. Belle scowled, they were speaking in a language she did not understand. “Can they cast any magic?”

“Impossible, the curse disrupts their bodies’ mana flow.” Calantha shook her head.

The three assassins’ collars suddenly lit up with green sigils and a harsh pop pealed from the metal.

“No!” Belle pulled one of the hoods off.

The veins around the man’s neck had gone blue and foam bubbled around the edge of his mouth. His eyes had already glazed over.

“Shit!” Belle yanked off the others’ hoods, but they were dead as well.

“I, uh, I didn’t expect that,” Calantha admitted.

“I thought you said they couldn’t cast any spells!”

“It was not a spell, but a simple command to activate their enchanted collars. But even then, the curse should have stopped the collars from activating.” Calantha frowned. “Whatever these collars are, they were made with magic far more powerful than any mortal is capable of.”

Belle sighed. “Now what?”

“We should look for any assassins still trapped in the manor. Stop them from speaking until we have a purple mage rummage through their minds.”

“Why do I get the feeling they all have the same collar?”

~~~

What was left of the ruined homes in the Common District’s street was now only ash as it burned in azure flames. The neighborhood had been leveled by Holo and One’s skirmish. Neither side had managed to get the upper hand.

Black tendrils wrapped in eerie green light jutted out from the ground and slithered through the air, searching for their prey. Holo Flickered away, only for the tendrils to move with uncanny speed. They passed through rubble without the slightest disturbance, ethereal yet deadly to the touch.

With a swing of her arms, Holo slashed Lyrae’s blade through the tendrils, severing them from their source of power. The severed tendrils slowed and fell as if sinking into water.

“Is that all you’ve got!?” Holo taunted.

“Never.” One smirked and raised his arms. Two dozen more tendrils rose out from beneath him and shot out in a volley.

Holo broke into a malicious smile. “Fuck you too, then.” She waited until the tendrils were upon her, then Flickered in front of One, scythe in mid-swing. He dodged by a hair’s breadth, and leaped back with a cat’s grace.

But just as he landed, the ground sank underneath his feet and tried to swallow him whole. He scowled and threw his hands out, a blast of energy echoing off his palms and freeing him.

“Two on one? This seems hardly fair,” One clicked his tongue.

Holo glanced at the newcomer and saw Atlas entering the fray, his arms charged with green mana. She Flickered next to him and looked him over. “Good to see you on your feet, son.”

Atlas gave her a nod, but kept his eyes on the enemy. “We need to deal with this and get back home to Unalla.”

“Unalla?” Holo froze. “What do you mean?”

“He means I sent a few friends to visit your mansion,” One said.

“You fucking bastard!” Holo roared.

One flicked his wrist and the tendrils pulled back to wrap around his shoulders like a cloak. “Really? You still wish to fight? And here I thought you’d rush to save your precious baby. Which will it be? Fight me or save the offspring?”

Atlas narrowed his eyes. “You’re running away.”

“Oh, we’ll be seeing each other again, I’m certain,” One replied.

“...I am going to kill you if it’s the last thing I do,” Holo growled. “Atlas, hand.”

Atlas took her hand and she channeled Orange. The two Flickered in a burst of ash and motes of cinder.

One sighed and turned to leave. He needed to leave this damn city and get to the rendezvous point. Two would be waiting there to hear news of the mission. At the very least, One had distracted the two most powerful titans in the city. The others should be easy pickings. The others would have found more success than he had.

One knew trying to trap Holo in an arcane prison made from a simple dirt pit was a bad idea. Sure, it would be easy to sneak into the city and build it, but there were too many variables that could go wrong, even if he was guarding the pit. But Two had been insistent on her prison’s design. If Four had helped create a more permanent place for the prison, made from far more durable materials than perhaps…

No, it didn’t matter anymore. They needed a new plan. One took a last glance at the city and Ebon Tower looming behind him, born from Mortem designs. “Disgusting.”

Chapter 665: Holoson

The sun had set and the last rays of light bathed the sky in a deep orange as Atlas made his way through the Commoner District. The farther he walked, the worse his surroundings became. This close to the wall, the damage the Valley Tribes had dealt was evident. Ruined homes were all Atlas saw, if they could even be considered homes anymore.

Many of the houses in the Commoner District had been built with wood in a time when Undergrowth and Hollow Shade were still on good terms and the sale of Glimmer Grove trees flowed freely. It had been over a century since then and the old wooden homes had fallen into disrepair. When the valley tribesmen had come with torches and orange magic, it hadn’t taken much to set the neighborhoods ablaze.

Now, all that was left on this side of the district was charred ruins. The houses that had been lucky enough to catch fire had been ransacked and left to rot. Atlas did not understand why his mother had come to this place. And he knew she had, this was the last place he had sensed her presence before she had disappeared.

It had occurred to him only after he had set off from the manor to ask Kaitlin or one of the other higher-ups of the Troupe if they knew anything about Holo’s whereabouts tonight. Perhaps one of them knew, or perhaps not. Holo often went off on her own with none the wiser. She had always been like that, ever since he was old enough to remember. His mother would simply disappear, sometimes to another city-state or to an altogether different Realm. But something felt off this time.

The darkness of twilight filled the sky and Atlas felt his eyes shift into their natural purple hue as they adjusted to the dark. He wandered down the street, searching each ruined house for signs of his mother.

As he drew close to one particular unassuming ruined home, he caught the faint scent of chemicals and elixirs; the kind black mages used to preserve bodies while working necromancy. His mother had spent the last few days down in her arcane atelier, perfecting a new set of undead sentinels.

Atlas made a beeline for the building. Before he could walk into the sorry, ruined excuse for a doorway, he caught the sound of something whizzing through the air. Instincts took over and he spun around, Yellow surging through his body. An outline of yellow scales wrapped around his flesh as an arrow punctured clean through his cloak and slammed into his left arm. The protective scales cracked but held, the arrow sliding past.

“Good evening,” said a calm, masculine voice.

Atlas turned to find a cloaked individual with a green mask standing across the street. Atlas twitched as a burning sensation stretched across his forearm. The arrow had left some sort of green ink over his skin and it was quickly eroding the protective scales with a hissing, bubbling noise.

With a thought, Atlas channeled Orange and burned off the poison with a flicker of flames. But the damage had been done, the arm had gone limp. His natural resistance to poison should have stopped anything of the sort from happening. Something was wrong.

“Apologies, that seems painful.” The stranger raised his bow and shrugged. “I was aiming for your neck. It would have made this far less painful and simple.”

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you?” Atlas bared his teeth in a deep growl. 

“On the contrary, I know exactly who you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Soon, Atlas’ healing would eliminate whatever poison had invaded his flesh and restore function to his left arm. Until then, he needed to keep this man talking. “You have me at a disadvantage then, I don’t know you.”

“Apologies, once again. Where are my manners? I am simply called One.” The figure gave a flourishing bow. “It is an honor to be in your presence, your majesty.” His voice held a bite to it, almost a mocking tone.

Atlas narrowed his eyes. How much did this stranger know? Had he done something to his mother? “I am no king,” Atlas replied cautiously.

“Are you not Atlas Thorn, firstborn son of Atreus Thorn? The lost prince? This is your city, is it not?”

“The Royal Thorn House was overthrown. Even if it hadn’t, I gave up my family name long ago.”

“Ah, yes. You go by a different name now.” The man clicked his tongue. “Holoson. You abandoned your mortal people and sided with the spawn of Death.”

“So you do know me,” Atlas said slowly as he glanced around, searching for others.

One noticed his gaze. “Rest assured, we are alone.”

“Am I supposed to believe you?” Atlas cocked an eyebrow.

“I sent my constituents to deal with the rest of the wretched progeny of titans.”

Atlas glared as blue flames erupted over his right hand. “If you fucking dare lay a finger on my daughter—”

“Oh, now you believe me?”

“What have you done with my mother?” Atlas tried to move his left arm, but he could barely twitch a finger. The poison was taking unnaturally long to heal.

“Why do you continue to ask about others? I am here for you.” He withdrew a golden dagger from his cloak.

Before One had a chance to point the dagger at him, Atlas slammed his foot into the ground with a pulse of Green. A slab of stone rose in front of him, blocking whatever attack might come. Atlas threw his hand to the side, and blue fire roared as it erupted from his palm and filled the street.

The scent of burning wood and smoke filled the air. Atlas couldn’t see and neither could his opponent, but Atlas didn’t need his sight, he could hear the bastard just fine. He charged through the smoke, fist pulled back ready to strike, and came up behind the masked man.

One turned on his heel in a flash and pointed the golden dagger at Atlas. Pain exploded in his heart and Atlas stumbled. He gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain, tackling One to the ground.

The golden dagger fell on the scorched dirt, not far away. One scrambled for it, but Atlas pulled him back and slammed him back to the ground. He planted his foot on One’s shoulder to hold him down and punched him in the mask. One’s head snapped back and rebounded off the floor with a heavy thunk.

Atlas punched him again with all the strength he could muster. “Did you think your trinket would stop me? That a little pain would stop me!?” He punched him again. “That you could try and hurt my family?!” By the second punch, One had gone limp, but Atlas punched him over and over, rage filling his every thought.

The green mask was surprisingly durable, but even it began to crack under the onslaught of a demigod’s strength. Atlas finally stopped after a minute of senseless beating. Dark blood covered his fist and a small crater had formed underneath One’s head. 

Atlas unclenched his fist and tried to calm his breathing while he rallied back in his anger. Something was off. Atlas frowned and stared at his shaking hand. Was that his blood?

“Ow.” One muttered.

Atlas snapped his head back down. But One moved quicker and shoved him off with a flat palm. Atlas felt the air escape his lungs as ribs cracked and he flew backwards into a ruined house, shattering what little remained. Atlas lay on the floor, dazed, and wheezing for breath.

“You wound me.” One rose to his feet and dusted himself off. “To think that I need trinkets to kill you? I am not like the others; I need nothing.”

“Is that why you shot me with an arrow?” Atlas grimaced as he staggered to his feet.

One picked at a green piece of his mask that was crumbling off and flicked it aside. “I wanted this to be less painful for you.”

“Then why the dagger?” Atlas flexed his left hand. Feeling had mostly returned, though now his every breath made him wince. He had underestimated his opponent. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. With a subtle shift of his foot, he channeled Green into the ground.

“The dagger? Do you think that was pain?” One chuckled.

Atlas summoned Yellow and covered himself in fresh protective scales. “What would you call it—”

One appeared in front of him in a blur and snatched the giant of a man by the throat before Atlas could react. “You have no idea what pain is,” One hissed and tossed him away like a rag doll.

Atlas threw several houses before coming to a bloody halt. He groaned and tried to blink the stars away from his vision. The scales had cracked and shattered in several places. The scales around his neck were gone entirely and were covered in cuts where One’s nails had squeezed into his skin.

“I waited here because I believed you were the greatest threat among the rest of the targets.” One appeared above him, crouched on the last standing beam. “Was I wrong? Should I have dealt with the baby Aspirant instead?”

Atlas kicked the beam from under him, shattering it. One didn’t flinch and landed on the ground with an acrobat’s grace. Atlas rolled to his feet and raised his fists in a defensive stance. He sent several more pulses of Green into the earth, having found what he needed. “Is that all you’ve got?” Atlas spat a glob of blood at his feet.

One stepped forward in the same blur of unprecedented speed. Atlas threw a hook on instinct even before he saw One move, but the latter was faster and caught the fist with ease.

“As I said, you do not know pain. This is pain,” One said and held Atlas’ fist in an iron grip. Atlas’ veins turned a sickly green, starting from his hand and quickly working up his shoulder. Strength left Atlas and he fell to his knees, helpless. He could only gasp a shallow breath as excruciating pain filled his every fiber.

Atlas’ vision began to fade at the edges, but whatever magic tortured him, stopped him from falling unconscious. One stared at him, half his mask having fallen off, revealing a dispassionate green eye. 

Atlas rallied what little focus he could through the blinding pain and smiled defiantly.

“Arrogant to the end,” One noted.

Holo Flickered behind him, murder-filled rage in her cold eyes, and sent a high kick straight at his temple. The foot connected with a satisfying crack and One went flying into the street, skidding on the dirt like a skipping stone.

Atlas collapsed, but Holo caught him, her small frame making it seem almost comical. “Perfect timing, Mother,” he mumbled.

“Don’t speak,” Holo whispered soothingly and laid him on the ground.

“You escaped,” One called out in a begrudging tone. 

Holo Flickered into the street, a few paces from him. “And you hurt my son, you are going to die for that.”

Slowly rising to his feet, One touched the blood trickling down the side of his forehead. The last bits of his mask had fallen apart, revealing a pale complexion and green hair so dark it appeared almost black. 

Holo frowned at the sight. “You’re a son of Agony. Why are you doing this? You’re one of us!”

“I am nothing like you.” 

“Are you sure about that, cousin?”

He narrowed his green eyes and stared at Holo. “How did you escape? Those wards should have held you for days.”

“From the inside, sure. But from the outside?” Holo clicked her tongue. “That’s the problem with complex arcane prisons made in a simple dirt pit. Sure, they can be made anywhere, but all it takes is a bit of tampering with a Green stone spell to break the seal from the outside.”

One glanced at the ruins where Atlas lay. “Interesting.”

“Heed my call, Lyrae.” Holo stretched her hand out and a black scythe rained down from the sky and landed in her grip.

“An orichalcum weapon. Do you think that will protect you?” One spoke nonchalantly, but his hardened eyes betrayed him.

Holo smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “I imagine you enjoy inflicting pain on others. So tell me, what do you think I enjoy?”

Chapter 664: Attack in the Trade District

People screamed and ran as arrows shot out from the rooftops of the trade street. Some were merchants, a few even nobles. Their guards raised shields to protect their charges. A few arrows slipped past and sank into their limbs or chest. The guards cried out in pain as the arrow sizzled in their flesh. Their bodies seized up and they collapsed as their veins turned a sickly green.

“What is that…?” Stryg muttered from behind a stall. He cycled through various alchemical potions and poisons he had learned or read about in books at the academy, yet none of them matched the type of poison coating the arrows.

“Keep your head down!” Gale shoved him underneath the stall. “Focus on calling for help.”

“I already called Rhian and told her to get help,” Stryg said.

“How long until they get here?” Gale asked.

“I don’t know. It’s not a two-way communication,” Stryg said.

“A little help here!” Tauri yelled as she flung a fireball at one of the cloaked archers at the edge of a roof.

The archer ducked as the fireball exploded. The smoke settled and the archer reappeared with another arrow notched. Tauri pulled back just in time, the arrow narrowly missing her and landing right behind the stall. It burned the ground with its acid, leaving a dark splotch.

“I don’t get it. I thought I got him,” Tauri said.

“Then stop missing.” Gale peeked out from the stall and were fired off a bolt of lightning. It ripped through the roof’s edge and struck the archer true. His cloak flickered and lit up a bright blue for a brief moment, then he was there still, unharmed, as if the lightning bolt was a mere illusion.

Two more arrows fired off and Gale pulled back. 

“You were saying?” Tauri cocked an eyebrow.

“I hit him, I know I did,” Gale muttered in frustration. 

“Is it just me or are you guys seeing doubles?” Stryg stared at another archer.

“I said keep your head down!” Gale yanked him back by his collar. Stryg hissed at her, but Gale hissed right back. “They’re here for you. Don’t you get that!?”

“So what? Doesn’t mean I can’t shoot back at them!” Stryg said.

“Stryg’s right,” Tauri added.

Stryg smiled triumphantly. “See?”

Gale tried to turn on her, but the stall was too cramped. She settled for turning her head. “I’m not letting my ward endanger himself just to try and kill a single assassin.”

“No, not that,” Tauri said.

“Huh?” Stryg blinked.”

“Although Stryg is still an Ebon Aspirant, he can handle himself,” Tauri added.

“He’s only a master mage, not an archmage, not even a high master,” Gale said.

“Yeah, and he’s got three or four times our mana reserves combined. Let him shoot a couple of fireballs,” Tauri said.

“No,” Gale said adamantly.

“Whatever, not the point. I meant Stryg is right about the archers. It’s like there are several of them in one place,” Tauri said.

Gale peeked out from the stall’s edge and glanced at several different archers. “You’re right… Is it some kind of illusion magic?”

“We can’t just stay here, we need to move,” Tauri said.

Gale cursed under her breath. “Alright. Stryg, can you create some illusions to give us cover?”

“We won’t get far. Do you hear that?” Stryg closed his eyes.

“The dying?” Gale asked.

“No, the footsteps,” Stryg said. “They’re getting further away. Everyone who didn’t get shot has already left this street. But all the archers are still here. Meaning they're waiting for us to come out to kill us.”

“Wait, how do you know all the archers are still out there?” Tauri asked.

“I’ve been listening to their breathing. It took me a bit to drown out the screams and hone in on them, but I’ve got them now,” Stryg said.

Tauri grinned at Stryg’s droopy, pointed ears. “Never thought I’d be so happy for your sharp hearing.”

“How many are there?” Gale asked.

Stryg furrowed his brow. “Fourteen. Seven on the roofs. Seven others on the ground. They’re blocking both sides of the street. We’re cut off.”

“Either of you remember seeing any nearby alleyways?” Gale asked.

“No,” Tauri said.

“Don’t think so,” Stryg replied.

Gale took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay. When I say go, Stryg, you’re going to make illusion decoys. We run out with the illusions and head towards the northern bridge.”

“What about the enemies blocking our way?” Stryg asked.

“I’m going to break through their line. Tauri, I need you to get Stryg out of here as fast as you can. Don’t look back, just run.”

Stryg frowned. “Gale, I’m not leaving you behind.”

She grabbed his hand and put it on his chest. “I am the Shield of Veres. I will always put your life ahead of my own.”

“So did Cly. I’m not letting you do the same.” Stryg grabbed her hand with his own.

Several more arrow thunks echoed over the stall and the three of them could clearly hear the sound of sizzling wood.

“Guys, we’re running out of time,” Tauri said anxiously.

“Let’s head into one of the shops. We can hold out for help until then,” Stryg said.

“What if the enemy gets more help too? Did you think about that?” Gale said.

“I’m not leaving without you.” Stryg channeled purple.

Gale glanced up as the stall sagged and began to fall apart. “Move, now!”

Three different copies of Stryg, Gale, and Tauri leaped out from the stall, two groups sprinted to either end of the street, while the last charged into a nearby shop. Arrows rained down, catching a few of the illusions. They fell apart like sand, fading in a cloud of purple dust.

Stryg made a beeline to the shop, making sure to keep an eye on both his companions. A sharp pain stabbed into his chest and he staggered, and fell to his knees. His flow of purple mana crumbled and the illusions all fell apart. A cloaked assassin on the street held a golden dagger and was pointing it at him.

“Stryg!” Gale threw herself over him and cut down an incoming arrow.

The archers all turned and began to fire at the downed Stryg. The ones on the ground rushed them, swords in hand.

“Tauri, get him inside!” Gale yelled as she met the enemies with her sword.

Brown mana filled Tauri and her muscles took on a bronze sheen. Newfound strength filled her veins as she grabbed Stryg and threw him over her back. 

“Don’t let them escape!” shouted the assassin with the dagger. The golden blade flared with light and the pain in Stryg’s chest doubled. 

An assassin leaped at Tauri and Stryg, but the former waved them off with a blanket of flames. Tauri ran into the building, kicked the door open, and threw Stryg inside. Tauri stood in the doorway and began to hurl fire bolts at the ones rushing Gale.

The arcane pain pierced Stryg’s heart and flowed through his muscles like poison. He clenched his teeth and moaned low in anger. A cold sensation bloomed from his second heart and washed over the pain like ice over a cut. He sucked in a deep breath and rolled onto his back.

Gale barreled through the doorway and crashed into the floor. Her scarlet cloak was in tatters, but she seemed relatively unscathed. Tauri flung the door closed as arrows stabbed into the wood. She grabbed a nearby shelf filled with metalwork goods and dragged it in front of the door. “This won’t hold them for long, let’s go!” Tauri said as she went to help Stryg up.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her and pushed himself to his feet.

“What happened to you? Are you alright? You went down all of a sudden. Were you shot?” Gale looked him over frantically.

 “No, it was some kind of magic, I think. It was like venom was being pumped into my heart. I lost control of my illusion spell.” Stryg explained as they began to make their way to the back of the building.

“But you’re alright now?” Gale asked.

“Yeah. My chaos mana reacted to the attack and broke the spell somehow. What about you? Are you alright?”

“Somehow,” Gale admitted. “They’re good, but they’re no grandmasters of the blade. I managed to block their attacks, but every time I tried to strike back, my sword just went through them. And you were right, when I look at them it’s like I’m terribly drunk; I see three or four where one should be.”

Stryg suddenly paused in his steps. “Wait.”

“We can’t. We need to cut across the back and move to the next street. We don’t have time to waste,” Gale said.

“Exactly,” Stryg pointed up. “I can hear them rushing the shop. The archers are all already on top of the building. If we walk out, they’ll shoot us down.”

“So, what? We just hold up here?” Tauri was already flipping over a table and shoving it in front of the hallway.

The sounds of windows breaking echoed in the shop. 

“They’re coming,” Tauri said.

“How many?” Gale asked.

“Seven, the rest are on the roof,” Stryg answered after a moment of listening.

Tauri conjured an orb of fire in her hand. “I want to see them dodge this while stuck in a hallway.”

“Careful, we don’t want this place to go up in flames while we’re still in it,” Gale warned.

“Any better ideas?” Tauri snapped.

Gale began to write red sigils into the air. “I can conjure a ward shield around this room. It’ll buy us a bit more time. If we get them close, we have a shot.”

Stryg stared at the fire orb, his eyes widening in thought. “No. Tauri has the right idea.” He drew Krikolm and cut through the wooden floors. The scarlet blade sliced through the wood with ease. He tossed the broken planks aside and hopped inside. “Come down here with me.”

“We’ll be trapped,” Tauri said.

“No, they’ll be trapped,” Stryg replied.

“Stryg…” Gale looked at him, uncertain.

“Trust me, please.”

The two women glanced at each other, then crawled into the small opening. Both of them turned to the opening and prepared to shoot anyone who came into line of sight.

Stryg knelt, closed his eyes, and took a deep, slow breath. He placed his hands flat on the dirt and called forth Green. Mana surged out from his chromatic heart and through his body. But still, he called more, and more, until his body burned with Green mana. Sweat covered his brow, his cheeks were flushed, and his breathing ragged, the first tell-tale signs of manaburn. He was drawing upon far too much mana at once. If he didn’t stop his own blood would begin to boil.

The cold taste of elemental chaos mana rippled out from his second heart and tempered the heat. Stryg took several more deep breaths as he drew upon even more chromatic energy.

Someone entered the hallway, only a few paces away. Stryg dug his fingers into the dirt and poured Green into the ground, the foundations, and the stone blocks above them. He screamed in the exertion as the entire shop began to lift.

Someone yelled in panic from within, followed by several more shouts, and heavy footsteps running towards the doors. But it was too late, Stryg smiled, his teeth bared in defiant anger. He roared and poured more mana into his spell.

The foundations flew into the air, the walls breaking apart from the stress. Every stone block moved in synchronous motion, carrying the rest of the building 10 meters above the street. Tauri and Gale watched from the ground, eyes wide in disbelief. The building was now a slow swirl of rocks, wood, and other bits of rubble. The assassins staggered inside the ruined shop, trying to get out.

“Tauri, Gale, now!” Stryg yelled.

The two of them threw their hands up in unison and channeled. Flames shot out from Tauri’s hands as a torrent of water erupted from Gale’s palms. The fire and water met at the base of the floating shop and exploded in a cloud of boiling water particles, filling every nook and cranny of the ruined building with scorching vapor. Neither Gale nor Tauri stopped channeling even as the screams intensified above them and eventually died out.

“I can’t hold it… any longer…” Stryg gasped, the last strands of Green leaving his fingertips.

Gale threw him over her shoulder and dashed into the street, Tauri right on her heels, as the ruins of the building fell straight down. Laughter bubbled out of Stryg’s throat and he tried to throw his arms up in triumph, but they were noodles and they dangled helplessly at his side. His laughter was infectious, however, and both Gale and Tauri soon joined him.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Tauri asked.

“The spell was pretty simple. I just threw a lot more mana into it than usual,” Stryg grinned.

“Just when I think I have you figured out,” Gale shook her head, a faint smirk on her lips.

“Now what?” Tauri asked and glanced up at the night sky. “Where are the sentinels?”

“Destroyed, I reckon. At least the ones nearby. This was planned. We need to get back to the manor as soon as possible,” Gale said.

“Happily,” Stryg groaned, exhausted.

Chapter 663: Abomination

Brown mana surged through Unalla’s fist as she punched one of her assailants, or at least she tried. Her fist went right through the rippling cloak, only hitting darkness. She leaped back just in time to evade the slash of a sword, though the blade managed to nick her sleeve.

She glanced at the sleeve and saw the blue fabric turn a sickly brown as it began to sizzle. Without a second thought, she tore the entire sleeve off and tossed it on the ground. Orange mana flowed into her body as she cast an agility spell. Her body’s weight lightened and her muscles practically vibrated with energy. 

Unalla leaped back in time to dodge an attack from another intruder. She scurried backwards into the corner of the room to make some distance. Four figures closed in around her, or at least she was pretty sure it was four. Their silhouettes seemed distorted as if she had drunk a gallon of ale. She was seeing triples, no, quadruples, and each version of them seemed to be going in different directions.

Had they poisoned her?

She had just been sleeping on the couch next to the fire when a barrage of explosions had rippled through the mansion. Unalla wanted to rush outside and find out what was happening, but her father’s warning had resounded in her mind. She was to stay inside the manor.

Something was happening. Her parents were missing and so was her grandmother. Indecision to leave or stay wracked her mind, but before she could make a decision, the assassins had burst into the room. If she had reacted a moment too slowly she would have been riddled with arrows.

As it stood, she had no idea who these people were. Unalla briefly considered casting a powerful flame spell to incinerate them, but releasing that sort of magic in an enclosed room would guarantee mutual destruction. And that was assuming their enchanted cloaks didn’t have some sort of protection against heat. The fact that they attacked House Noir, a mage House known for their flame magic, made her doubt that was the case.

Gods, she wished she still had Votum. The orichalcum sword had been reclaimed by Caligo during the siege. Despite the strain the weapon put on her body, Unalla found herself sorely missing the sword’s overwhelming power.

“What do you want?” Unalla shouted as she glanced around the room, searching for options.

The assassins said nothing and moved in closer. Unalla kicked off the floor and threw herself into the window. Someone shouted behind her. The glass shattered on impact and Unalla leapt into the night. She felt herself go weightless as she fell from the fourth floor. Black mana pooled into her shadow and an inky arm shot out of her silhouette, latching onto the roof’s edge.

With a mental command, Unalla willed the arm to yank her up. She grimaced at the sudden pull as the world blurred past her. She landed on the rooftop and almost slipped on a tile before finding her footing.

The sound of several more windows shattering resounded underneath her. Unalla scurried from the edge and turned to face her attackers. The four rose onto the rooftop, their cloaks billowing and rippling as if underneath a river. The way they moved made it seem as if they hadn’t climbed, rather they had hovered right over the wall and onto the roof.

“Bring it on, you fuckers,” Unalla growled. She still had no idea what was wrong with their cloaks, but her instincts screamed at her to not let them get close. The rooftop wasn’t ideal, but it was far better than her family room. 

“I suggest you rethink that statement, Unalla Noir,” said a voice from behind.

Unalla spun around and found another figure standing atop a dormer. He wore a black cloak like the others, but his face wasn’t hidden by a cowl, rather a green porcelain mask.

“Who are you?” Unalla called out. “And what do you want with me!?”

“I am simply called Eight. And what I want is for you to not resist and come with us. We mean you no harm.”

“Yeah, right,” Unalla spat. The poisoned blade that had almost cut her arm told her all she needed to know about their ‘harmless’ intentions. They wanted her dead and if she gave them the opportunity, they would sink a knife into her back. 

Eight shrugged and threw his hands up. “The choice is yours, Miss Noir. But the longer you resist, the more people my mages will kill. Even now, your family and servants are being slaughtered inside the manor.”

“Is that why you attacked my home?” Unalla glanced at the flames rising from the other side of the manor. “Because you care about my family and servants?”

Eight crouched and looked down at her from above the dormer. “Let me be clear, Miss Noir. They do not need to die. Their deaths are an unfortunate casualty that need not be if you simply choose to not resist.” 

“I’m going to kill you first,” Unalla snarled.

“Ever the bloodthirsty scion of Death.” Eight shook his head.

Unalla faltered. “How do you know about Death…? Who are you people?”

“We are the Blessed, tasked with the burden of saving this world.” Eight reached into his cloak and pulled out a golden dagger. “Let it be known that I did try and reason with the monster until the end.”

Unalla went to charge at him, when he pointed his dagger at her. Pain blossomed in her chest and she stiffened with a spasming choke. Her mana dissipated like water in a broken glass, flooding outwards into the air. The sound of her heartbeat thrummed in her eyes like a drum. Unalla clutched at her heart and gasped for air. She fell to her knees, her vision fading at the edges. 

“There you are,” came a rippling voice of two. “I was wondering where the last of you had gone.”

The cloaked assassins turned in unison and stared at a lone figure shambling across the roof. Unalla looked up with what little strength remained and saw her cousin, walking towards them with a heavy limp. Was that… blood? Was she covered in blood? How was she even still standing?

“Ah, the Lady of the House— Wait. You’re not…” Eight frowned, then his eyes widened in realization. “Abomination…!” He withdrew his dagger and leveled it at Loh with an accusatory thrust of his hand.

Unalla sucked in a breath of air as the excruciating pain suddenly disappeared like a weight lifted off her chest. Loh stood still as the dagger’s strange power was focused on her.

“Cousin!” Unalla called out weakly. She tried to stand, but her body still felt like it had been through a wretched beating.

Loh stared at the dagger and narrowed her eyes. “Fuck.”

Eight gripped the dagger even tighter and sneered underneath his mask. “You will die first, abomination.”

Lily, what’s happening to you? Loh asked frantically in their shared mind.

“That dagger… I wasn’t entirely certain who attacked us, until now. I had hoped I was wrong.” Lily closed her red eyes and sighed in defeat. “...Fuck it.” She opened her eyes with purpose and strode forward.

“How can you move?” Eight fell back a step. 

“Did you think pain would stop me?” Lily bared her teeth in a malevolent smile.

“Kill her!” Eight yelled as he scrambled for something in his cloak.

The four other assassins rushed Lily, swords in hands. Lily cracked her whip and flicked her wrist. The whip disappeared from sight and the wind cracked with a cacophony of strikes. One by one the charging assassins were flung back in a spray of blood, dyeing Loh’s clothes more red.

“Enough!” Eight pulled out a circlet triumphantly. He tossed the circlet into the air and it broke apart, expanding into a massive ring high above Lily. Suddenly, a powerful light beamed down on her, trapping her in a magical prison. 

Lily staggered and her limbs stiffened to a halt as the rays froze her every muscle in a magical lock. Her veins bulged as she tried to move to no avail.

“Did you think we came unprepared!?” Eight yelled.

“Loh!” Unalla pushed herself to her feet, but Eight pointed the dagger at her and she collapsed once more, helpless.

“That is not your cousin, not anymore,” Eight hissed, before turning back to Lily. “I had hoped not to waste such a precious artifact as the Radiant Ring, but my master will be ever so pleased to learn that I used it to capture a remnant wraith.”

Lily tried to move her neck, but failed. Even breathing was becoming difficult as the magic prison bore down on her. “I’m sorry, Loh,” she whispered.

Lily… Loh recalled Lily’s question, ‘What are you willing to endure for those you love?’ Loh didn’t know how, but she reached out through a mental touch and took hold of Lily’s hand. I’ll endure anything.

Lily’s lips curled in a faint, tired smile. “Good answer.”

“Tell me, abomination, how did a remnant like you manage to escape our sight all these years?” Eight asked.

Lily clenched her teeth and glared at the masked man. “...We are no remnant. And we are no one’s prisoner.”

A dozen shadow arms arose from her back, each one moving of its own accord, writing grey arcane sigils in the air.

“That’s impossible.” Eight stared in disbelief. Each hand was writing a different curse. To cast so many spells simultaneously would require a grand archmage, but even then, none could split their mind so many ways to write a dozen arcana expressions at once.

“H-How…?” Eight whispered. No remnant wraith could possess such abilities, even with a talented host. Unless… It was no remnant.

“You don’t know our limits,” Lily said.

His eyes widened in horrid recognition. “Lilandria?”

The arcane sigils flared with power and the curses wrapped around the prison of light, covering it entirely in grey markings. The Radiant Ring wobbled briefly, its golden seams tearing, and then the whole thing shattered abruptly.

Eight turned to flee, but the curses lashed out at him, a hundred swirling vines snapping onto his body and yanking him back. His scream died on his lips as his body withered. He was no more than a husk on the ground when he reached Lily.

“Loh!” Unalla stumbled towards her.

“Sorry, I can’t… hold on…” Lily’s eyes rolled up and Loh’s body split in two in a flare of red light. Lily fell on all fours, coughing and covered in sweat.

Loh collapsed. She cried in pain as she began to spasm. Lily scrambled over to her and held Loh’s head in her lap, and placed her hand in Loh’s mouth to prevent her from biting her own tongue. Lily didn’t flinch as Loh clamped on her fingers, drawing blood. “It’s okay, I’m here, Loh. I’m here,” she whispered.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to her?” Unalla asked, bewildered.

“She’s suffering from severe mana burnout and heavy backlash from using advanced life arts… and her first bonding. She needs a healer, find one,” Lily said, she tried to keep her voice steady, but it broke midway through her speech. She had adored feasting on Loh’s pain and yet as she held Loh in her arms, Lily felt the pain stab into her heart as if it were her own. No, this was far worse. She hated this feeling. “Stay with me, Loh. Please,” Lily whimpered.

“Kaitlin is the Troupe’s best healer. She shouldn’t be too far,” Unalla muttered to herself in thought.

“Hurry!” Lily screamed. 

Unalla nodded and moved as fast as her battered body could.

Chapter 662: Lilandria, Last of the First

Loh ran through the burning halls of the Noir manor. Except, it wasn’t her in control, but Lily. Loh could still feel her legs as they kicked off the ground in a sprint and the wind passing through her hair, but she couldn’t control any of it. She was paralyzed and yet moving all the same, the sensation was disorientating.

How are you doing this? Loh asked, her voice resounding only between their minds.

“Our bond allows us to become one temporarily. I’m simply the one controlling the body at the moment, but it is still your body.” As Lily spoke aloud through Loh’s mouth, her words vibrated with both their voices.

How did you heal my injuries?

“I didn’t. You’re not a white mage, therefore neither am I.”

Then why can’t I feel any pain? Why don’t I feel light-headed anymore? Loh asked.

“I am blocking your pain receptors and using my own heightened innate senses to dispel your light-headed state.”

You can just cut off my pain like that? 

“Eh, more like I’m stepping in between and taking the pain for you,” Lily answered without breaking her stride. 

You’re— what? Are you okay? Loh’s disembodied voice suddenly took on a worried tone.

Lily couldn’t help but laugh. 

What’s so funny?

“I endured far worse the day I was born. Trust me, this is nothing.”

Lily shuffled to a halt when she came across an assassin standing over a dying guard. Several guard corpses lay around them. The assassin held the guard by the throat. “Where is Unalla Noir?” he asked.

The guard sputtered blood from her lips and bared a fierce grin. “I’d rather die.”

The assassin noticed Loh, or rather Lily in Loh’s body, standing a few paces away. “So be it.” He slit the guard’s throat with a knife and dropped her unceremoniously. 

No! Loh screamed internally.

The assassin turned to Lily, the black magic cloak shimmered with a distorting effect as he moved, making him appear as if he were looking at several different places, but somehow Loh knew he was looking at them. “Where is Unalla Noir?”

Loh began to panic. Lily, we can’t fight him head-on. We need to run.

“Unalla is right behind us,” Lily replied.

The assassin’s face was mostly hidden by the cowl, but Loh caught the hints of a frown on his lips. He charged at them, his footsteps silent. The cloak blurred his body, he appeared as four different men, attacking from different angles.

Lily leaned forward and ignored all four of them. Orange flooded her veins and she moved with lightning swiftness. Her hand shot out between the four mirages and caught the real one by the face. Mana surged through Lily’s fingertips as she shot flames into his nostrils. His neck snapped back at the thrust of her wrist and he collapsed, writhing on the floor as the flames burned through his insides.

What was that? How did you know where to strike? Loh asked, amazed.

“I still have my senses, which are far more and sharper than your own.” Lily took one last glance at the bodies and then fell back into a sprint through the halls.

But you were so fast. I’ve never seen you move like that.

“You’re an Orange chromatic mage and therefore so are we.”

Yeah, but I’ve never moved that fast. It was like you were using the Black Amber arch spell, but it was some other spell.

“I’ve had many hosts throughout many lifetimes. I’ve learned from my hosts, acquired their knowledge and skills over many years. I am simply performing some of those skills with our shared body.”

Lily… Who are you really?

“This isn’t the time for that.”

You’re controlling my body, I think it really fucking is. 

“Our body,” she corrected.

Lily.

She sighed, but kept running. “My name is Lilandria, Last of the First Wraiths…”

Wraiths…?

“Children of the Blood Gods, or rather, their prized creations.”

Loh paused, unsure of what to say next. …Tell me more.

“The Blood Gods were old, older than the Sundering. And they were powerful, but with that came hubris. They reached too far. They thought themselves unstoppable, even in the face of Calamities. They were not.”

I’m not sure I follow.

“You need not. All you need to know is that while you and I are alone we are weak, but as long as we’re together, we are both so much more.”

And what exactly is that?

“Power.”

Lily reached the main hall leading to the Noir family’s private chambers. As soon as she turned the corner, she came across a bloody scene. A handful of assassins were standing over dozens of dead, mutilated guards and were slowly encircling a small, but dense dome of red wards constructed in the corner of the hall.

Underneath the red dome stood George and Dolores. Loh’s mother seemed afraid, but relatively unharmed. Her father, on the other hand, was covered in sweat. George’s breath was ragged and his tunic was torn with several cuts. Worst of all, his left arm hung limp at his side, covered in blood.

The assassins struck at the dome, their blades bouncing with a clash of sparks, each strike draining the ward’s mana.

Something primal broke out from the depths of Loh as she saw the pain and distress in her parents’ faces. The anger reverberated through the bond.

“Stay calm, Loh,” Lily warned quietly.

Orbs of fire swirled to life around Lily and shot out in rapid succession. Only one assassin was struck before the others noticed her presence and leaped out of the way. They moved with deft coordination and with unnatural speed that would leave an Orange mage intimidated. 

Lily fell into a defensive stance and began to dodge their attacks, while sending out several more fireballs. Her shadow snapped outwards like a whip and caught one of the invaders by the ankle, only to yank the screaming woman forward and obliterate her in a stream of flames. But the surprise move cost Lily. 

To your left! Loh screamed.

It was too late. A towering man managed to catch Lily’s wrist. His muscles swelled with Brown’s vigor magic and his grip became like steel.

Loh panicked as she watched from somewhere behind Lily’s eyes. An Orange could move faster than an arrow, but once caught by a Brown, there was no escape. Her panic rose as she saw the other assassins rush forward, their intent clear.

Loh’s rising despair reached through the bond in overwhelming waves. Lily staggered at the unintentional mental assault. The assassins drew closer, their blades only centimeters away.

Lily gritted her teeth and pushed her bonded’s panic aside. She ripped her arm out of the Brown mage’s grip and backhanded him in the chest. The air exploded with a crack, and his body went flying to the wall, crashing in a wet, red splat.

Lily spun on her left heel, raised her right leg up as it began to glow an eerie blue, then kicked in a wide arch, catching the last three remaining assassins. Blue light flashed in a burst and the three went spinning in crumpled bloody messes.

How did you…? Loh stared in dumbfounded shock. The whole exchange had happened in a single breath.

“Dammit, we have a problem,” Lily cursed with a sigh.

“Elohonoir…?” George called out hesitantly.

Loh’s parents stared at what they presumed was Loh with a mixture of awe and confusion.

“You’re safe now,” Lily tried her best to emulate Loh’s smile. She knew George and Loh hadn’t spoken since he had found out about Loh’s part in Aizel’s death.

But after a tense moment, George released his dome and leaned on the wall, exhausted. Dolores ran past him and embraced Lily. “Elohonoir! I thought— Thank the gods you’re safe,” she cried in relief.

“Mom…?” Loh whispered and she realized she had spoken aloud this time. She was back in control of her body, though she could still feel Lily’s presence within her.

Dolores pulled back, smiling tearfully. “Honey, your hand!” she gasped.

Loh glanced at her left hand and went slack-jawed in terror. Her hand was a mangled mess, fingers bent in the wrong directions, and bloody bits of bone sticking out. She could feel no pain, but the horrific damage was obvious. “Liiilyyy…!” her voice rose in sheer panic. “What happened to my arm!?”

A problem, Lily replied.

“And my leg, oh my gods!” Loh stared at her right leg. It was in a similar sorry state. She was amazed that she was even still standing.

You have had little to no lifeforce training. Your body was incapable of handling the strain of Paragon-level techniques. Don’t worry, I made sure to avoid permanent damage. You’ll heal with proper white magic treatment.

“Paragon-level— what!? Why didn’t you use something else!?” Loh snapped.

I was going to, but your panic temporarily overwhelmed my senses and forced my hand. I warned you to stay calm.

“How am I supposed to stay calm when I can’t even move my body?!”

Fine, next time I’ll stick to grandmaster arts at most.

“What do you mean, grandmaster? I’m not even a master of life arts—”

Exactly. Your body is woefully ill-prepared for this battle. Fortunately, you have me. I can push your body far beyond its limits, but there is a price to such actions. Like your leg and arm.

“Honey, who are you talking to?” Dolores asked worriedly.

“No one, Mom. I mean, someone, but, ugh, don’t worry about it.” She stared at her ruined limbs and swallowed hard, “Lily, what am I supposed to do now?”

What are you willing to endure for those you love?

Loh stared at her mother’s worried face. “Anything,” she whispered.

Time’s up, we need to move. 

Loh felt herself get pushed back as Lily took control of her body once more. Lily channeled Black and formed a splint of shadows around her leg. It would be clunky, but the shadows could move the leg well enough to at least walk. Satisfied, she nodded to herself and glanced at Loh’s father. “George, do you still keep a small armoury in your study?” her voice spoke as two.

“Uh, y-yeah,” George nodded warily. “But they’re mostly older weapons for display only.” 

“Hopefully, it’ll do,” Lily said.

“Elohnoir? Why are you talking like that? And your eyes…” Dolores touched her cheek gingerly. “Are you okay?”

“Everything will be fine, Dolores,” Lily assured her. “Get to Elzri’s study. There is a hidden room behind the bookshelf. The room has various cloaking wards on it, but it will open for you. Take your husband and stay there until I come find you.” She turned to leave, but paused and glanced back, “Your daughter— What I mean to say is, I… love you a lot. I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I love you too,” Dolores smiled weakly.

Lily nodded and headed for George’s study.

You didn’t have to say that last part to her, Loh grumbled abashedly.

“I know, but you wanted to, even if you weren’t going to,” Lily replied. With a limp, she reached George’s study and pushed the door open with her good arm. An array of weapons hung from wooden racks behind glass displays. Lily perused them, searching for what she needed. 

A blade would require lots of footwork, which in her current state was unfeasible. She needed something that allowed her to defend and strike with ideally few movements. Finally, her eyes settled upon a black whip with sharp steel bits at the end. She smirked, “This will do.”

Chapter 661: Wraith

The scent of smoke filled the air. The windows were shattered by the explosion and a sharp ringing resounded in her ears.

“—ohnoir… El… oir… Elohnoir!”

Loh groaned and opened her blue eyes. 

“Oh, thank gods, she’s awake,” Ismene sighed in relief.

Loh blinked repeatedly, her vision was blurred, and when she tried to sit up, the world swayed. “Ugh, my head.”

“I’ve got you.” Lily grabbed her shoulders and carefully helped Loh to her feet.

“What happened? Ismene, are you—?”

“I’m fine, child.” Ismene was still sitting on the bed, but she seemed relatively unharmed. “Elohnoir, you…”

“I’m fine. Just a couple of scrapes.” Loh rolled her shoulders.

“You’re bleeding,” Ismene noted.

“Huh?” Loh touched her temple, winced, and drew her hand away. The fingertips were dyed red.

“I told you to get down. Next time, listen instead of questioning me,” Lily growled.

“...Okay.” Loh stared at the vampire, surprised. She had never seen her angry. Lily was always aloof, relaxed even, as if nothing could bother her.

“Are you alright? Can you stand on your own?” Lily tore off the edge of her skirt and dabbed at the cut on Loh’s head.

Loh winced each time the cloth touched her wound. “Y-Yeah, I think so. I’m fine, trust me.” 

Lily stared at her dubiously but let it be.

“What’s happening out there?” Ismene started to get out of bed.

“What are you doing?” Loh asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You can’t fight in your condition!” Loh insisted.

Ismene snorted. “So, what? Am I supposed to just lie here in bed and wait for another explosion to kill me? Do you even know what’s going on out there?”

“I don’t…”

“We’re under attack,” Lily answered. “I saw several cloaked assailants climbing the walls right before they threw some kind of projectile at the mansion.”

“How is that possible? The wards should have stopped anyone from trespassing,” Loh said.

“There are ways to get past mortal arcane wards, none of them bode well for us. We need to get you two out of here,” Lily said.

“Is Vayu still here?” Loh asked.

“I believe he is still somewhere in the house,” Lily replied.

“We have to make sure he is okay— My parents!” Loh’s eyes suddenly went wide. “I need to find them!”

“Loh, wait. You’re the Lady of the House. If someone decided to attack this place, it’s most probably because they want you. We need to prioritize getting you out of here first,” Lily said.

Loh stared into her eyes. “...I’m not going to abandon my family, Lily. Not again,” she whispered the final words.

Lily sighed, “Alright.”

“What of Little Una and her family?” Ismene asked.

There was nothing little about the archmage Una, but the worry in Ismene’s voice warned Loh to comment on it. If anyone could survive this blast, it was definitely Una and Atlas.

“Lady Una left earlier this afternoon. Young mistress Unalla is still here, but I cannot sense Lord Atlas nearby,” Lily said.

“Sense?” Ismene asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“She does that. If Lily says he isn’t here, then he isn’t,” Loh said.

Ismene sighed. “Then we need to find Unalla. Someone hand me my cane.”

“I thought you couldn’t walk yet,” Lily said, though she still grabbed the cane hanging by the closet and offered it to the old woman.

“I’m not an invalid.” Ismene rummaged through her nightstand’s drawer, pulled out a small vial and downed it. “I’ll be fine with my cane, at least for a little bit.”

“Let me go first,” Lily said and cracked the door open. Smoke seeped into the room. “It’s clear.”

Smoke covered the ceiling. Large chunks of the wall had been blasted off and what little remained was now covered in flames.

Lily glanced around with a sharp eye. “We have to be careful, the people who did this are still out there. Loh, wait!”

But Loh wasn’t listening, she was running. She ran past the hall and down the stairs. There were no servant bodies strewn about. Most of them had probably gone to sleep by now. The servant quarters were at the back of the house. They should have been spared from the blast, or so she hoped.

“Vayu!” Loh spotted the young drow noble lying underneath some rubble. She rushed to his side and dragged his legs out from underneath the bricks.

“Loh…? What? What’s going on?” he mumbled, dazed.

“We’re under attack. Can you stand…?” The question died on her lips when she spotted the state of his legs. They were mangled and covered in blood.

Angered shouts rang not too far away. Loh’s head snapped up at the sound. She grabbed Vayu’s shoulders and dragged him into a corner. “I’ll be back for you,” Loh promised. She crept close to the wall and moved towards the sound of fighting. As she drew close, she stopped, and peered past the corner.

Several of the manor guards were fighting off a cloaked assailant. The man was tall, but he moved with the agility of an acrobat, smoothly dodging every sword that came swinging. His black cloak shimmered with an unusual blur and Loh found it difficult for her eyes to keep track of him. 

The assassin drew a pair of long daggers and in a matter of seconds, he had taken down half the guards; the rest wouldn’t last long, Loh realized. With a deep breath, Loh summoned orange mana from her heart and channeled it through her veins. The world began to sway again and she held her head with a grimace. Her legs gave out and she fell over with a thump.

The sound of fighting and clashing died out. Loh lay on the floor, screaming internally for her body to get up, but the pain and vertigo left her limbs unresponsive. The floorboards creaked as the sound of heavy footsteps crossed the room ahead of her and turned the corner. The cloaked assassin loomed over her. His daggers dripped with blood. “Elohnoir Noir. Where is Unalla?” 

“Hey! Over here, you big brute!” Ismene called out.

The man swiveled around, his cloak rippling like black water. Loh stared up at the man. He was right there in front of her, but her eyes somehow lost focus of him, and she couldn’t quite tell if he was still in front of her or a few paces away.

“Ismene, run,” Loh moaned weakly.

Lightning crackled around the assassin’s bloodied daggers. Ismene stared him down, unafraid, or at least she tried to; her eyes couldn’t keep focus on him either.

“Where is Unalla Noir?” he asked in a muffled voice.

“I’ll die before I let you near her,” Ismene spat.

He raised one of his daggers at the old woman in response. Lily jumped out from the shadows and leaped on the giant man’s back. She drew her own dagger, a small, thin, but sharp blade, and plunged it into his shoulder. He roared in pain and spun around, trying to shake her off. Lily held on tight, pulled out her dagger, and plunged it back in over and over again with quick, methodical repetition. 

The assassin slammed his back into the wall and crushed Lily. She didn’t even flinch, only letting out a grunt as she kept stabbing him. Finally, he let out a weak moan and fell to his knees, and collapsed face-forward. Lily stumbled off him, her breathing ragged. She dropped her dagger and hurried to Loh’s side, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m alright…” Loh sat up and rested her back against the wall. She glanced at the assassin’s body, even now his cloak rippled like water, and she couldn’t quite tell where his body was. “What is that?”

“A very rare and unique enchantment. It distorts one’s own perception, making them almost impossible to hit. It also allows the owner to go unnoticed by wards and various forms of magical sight,” Lily explained as she searched Loh for injuries.

“Then how did you manage to hit him?” Ismene asked.

“I possess innate senses that you do not.” Lily glanced back at the corpse, “There is only one being capable of creating a cloak like this. The fact that this man has one implies we are dealing with an enemy whose very possibility I do not wish to even contemplate.”

“Who?” Loh asked warily.

Lily took a step back. “You have no new injuries, at least, good. What happened?”

Loh knew Lily was avoiding her question, but she let it go. “I was casting a spell. When I tried to channel, I couldn’t. I lost my balance and fell over.”

“Channeling magic requires clear focus. Pain and blood loss have always made that difficult. Especially a head injury like that,” Ismene noted as she hobbled over. “She needs rest.”

“I said I’m fine,” Loh frowned and tried to stand to no avail.

“Ismene’s right. You can’t fight in your current state, you can’t even stand. We need to retreat,” Lily said.

“They’re after Unalla, you heard him. I’m not abandoning her,” Loh insisted.

Lily stared at Loh, her expression unreadable. After a long tense moment, she spoke. “I can help you, but it’s going to affect you— us, permanently. This decision will be irreversible. Do you understand?”

Loh shook her head weakly. “Not really, but if you can help me protect Unalla, then I’ll do it.”

“Do you trust me?” Lily whispered.

Loh gazed into her eyes. She knew so little about Lily, save that she was older than she looked and kept her secrets close. Yet Loh saw something deeper in her ruby eyes; worry and affection. Lily was many things, most Loh did not know, but one thing she did know, was that Lily would not harm her, or so she hoped.

“For now,” Loh nodded.

Lily’s lips curled in a wry smile. “Good enough.” She cupped her hands over Loh’s face and put her forehead on hers. Their lips were centimeters apart. “Close your eyes. Relax. Let me in.”

Ismene watched on in wary silence as Loh closed her eyes. Lily leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. A fiery sensation filled Loh’s body and she opened her eyes to find Lily had disappeared.

“What is this…?” Loh stared at her own hands. A scarlet flame-like mist enveloped her body, an aura of power burning through her.

“I’m here.” Lily’s voice echoed in Loh’s mind.

“Where are you?” Loh glanced around.

“I’m here with you.” The scarlet aura flared. “We are one.”

“What did you do?” Loh asked as she marveled at the aura flowing through her.

“What’s going on?” Ismene asked, confused. “The vampire just crumbled away like dust. There is nothing even left of her.”

“She cannot see or hear me. Tell her I am fine.”

“I’m fine. We’re both fine. Lily, what did you do?” Loh pressed the question.

“Our souls have formed a permanent bond, allowing me to temporarily become one with you. I will explain more later. We must move quickly if we are to save your parents and friends.”

“What are you?” Loh asked.

“Your other half.”

A scream echoed in the distance. Loh’s heart dropped. She recognized the voice. “Mom!” She leaped to her feet and regretted it immediately as her head swam. She leaned on the wall to steady herself.

“Elohnoir, you need rest,” Ismene said worriedly, but the old woman could only watch as Loh fell to her knees.

“No, I’m okay. Give me a moment,” Loh grimaced.

“There is no time. Just hold on.”

The pain and vertigo abruptly disappeared, and the world snapped into focus. Loh blinked and looked down at herself, or so she tried. Her body moved of its own accord. She rose to her feet in one smooth, graceful motion.

“Elohnoir?” Ismene asked.

“Stay here and keep watch over young master Glaz. I’ll be back,” Loh and Lily’s voices vibrated in unison with each word.

Ismene narrowed her eyes. “You’re not Elohnoir.”

“No, I am not.” Loh’s blue irises had taken a scarlet hue. She spun on her heel and headed straight towards the shouting and clashes of steel.

Chapter 660: Deviating Paths

“Dad? What’s wrong?” Unalla asked, raising her head, but refusing to sit up from the sofa. The two had been resting in the solar room next to the fireplace when her father had suddenly stiffened in his chair and frowned. 

“Something’s wrong with my mother,” Atlas said, his expression darkening.

“Grandma? Is it Caligo?” 

“No, I would have sensed a battle of chaos nearby if it were. The problem is I can’t sense anything.”

“And that’s a— problem?”

“Usually, I can feel your grandmother’s presence if she isn’t too far. Always present, like something in the corner of my eye. She was somewhere in the city and then she disappeared.”

“So she teleported. Grandma does that all the time.”

“No, this is different, I think. Something doesn’t feel right. Where is your mother?” 

“I think she went to the merchant's guild to negotiate some kind of deal on behalf of our House. Something about stocking up on food and supplies with a potential war on the horizon.”

“When will she be back?”

“I dunno, I didn’t ask.”

“Don’t leave the manor until she gets back.” Atlas stood to his full towering height.

“Wasn’t planning to.” Unalla yawned and stretched. “Where are you going?”

“To find your grandmother.”

“Good luck.” Unalla relaxed and settled back into the plush cushions. Whatever it was, Holo could handle it, she always did. 

~~~

Loh walked through her home, reminiscing about the days when she used to run through these halls with her brother. They were so young. It was long ago, before Aizel had awakened his magic and their grandfather discovered how little talent for it he truly possessed. Back then, things were simpler, life was brighter.

Lily sighed in delight behind her. Loh stopped and glanced at her assistant, eyebrow cocked. “What is it?”

“Hm? I’m simply enjoying your nostalgia mixed with bitterness and a dash of longing,” Lily said as if she were talking about food.

“You say the strangest things, you know that?” 

“Do I?” Lily tilted her head to the side, her red lips puckered in a pout, scarlet strands of hair falling over her sculpted face. Loh looked away and kept walking.

Loh knew Lily was odd, possibly even a bit addled, but the vixen was smart enough to know how beautiful she was and how to use it to her benefit. Lily also knew her beauty unnerved her mistress, not that it ever stopped her from trying to throw Loh off her composure. All it took was a simple pose, a shift of the hips, and bending down ever so slightly. Loh always found herself looking away, lest she stare. The last thing she needed was to get involved with a quite possibly insane woman.

Which was only made worse by Lily sneaking into Loh’s bed most nights. Loh didn’t even notice her until the morning, at which point she promptly kicked the vampiress out. But there were times when Loh found herself waking up from a nightmare of her past, screaming in the dark hours of the night. Lily held her close in silent comfort until the screams disappeared and her tears faded.

Loh didn’t quite know how to feel about that. At the same time, Lily had been her grandfather’s right-hand, and she had proven herself several times over in the last few weeks by helping Loh adjust to her new position as head of the family. So for now, Loh tolerated her unnerving presence and she pretended not to notice the vampire’s constant flirtations.

“Does it bother you?” Lily suddenly asked.

“Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about?” Loh said.

“Being an open book.”

“I’m not an open book,” Loh tried her best to keep her tone calm, but there was an edge to her voice, and she scowled for it. Thankfully, Lily trailed behind her and could not see her expression. This damn woman somehow always managed to get under her skin.

“You are to me. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone what I find.”

“How benevolent of you.” Loh rolled her eyes.

“Someone else is in there,” Lily noted as they reached the door at the end of the hall.

“How do you know?” Loh asked.

This was another odd trait Lily possessed. The vampire was no mageborn, but she somehow always knew things that no ordinary person would. Before she could prod Lily for more, Vayu opened the door. The two froze as their eyes met. Silence hung in the air until Lily coughed pointedly.

“Loh, it’s, uh, good to see you,” Vayu said.

“Y-Yeah. You too. I heard about your mother and brother. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. My condolences for your grandfather, as well. Lord Elzri was a pillar of this city, his loss is felt by many.”

“Thank you.”

The two stood in silence for a long moment, thinking about their loved ones who had passed on. There was more pain there than either cared to wallow in. Finally, Loh spoke up. “Vayu, I… We didn’t really get a chance to talk back at the council meeting.”

“I’ve been busy. I still am. I just came to check up on her.” He threw his thumb back towards the door.

“I’m sure she’s glad for the visit. Nora visits her a couple times a week, too,” Loh said.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you managed to talk the Tempest Archmage into staying at your home while she recovers.”

“Well, it was either that or dealing with countless white mages fussing around her in the academy’s infirmary. It was a pretty simple choice for Ismene if you ask me.” Loh shrugged.

“She fought you the entire way, didn’t she?” Vayu asked.

“Quite,” Lily answered for Loh.

“Yes, thank you, Lily,” Loh noted sarcastically.

Vayu finally noticed her and furrowed his brow. “I saw you at the council meeting. You were Lord Elzri’s assistant.”

“I am the seneschal of House Noir, yes. A pleasure to see you once again, Lord Glaz,” Lily curtsied, the top of her dress dipping dangerously low.

Vayu forced himself to look up and cleared his throat. “I should get going. My carriage and guards are waiting for me.”

“Can’t you stay? Just a little longer? I was hoping we could talk,” Loh reached out to grab his arm but pulled back.

Vayu noticed the gesture but didn’t move. “Talk about what?”

“How we left things…” Loh took a deep breath. “I said horrible things to you back at Undergrowth, but you still came to save me when I was surrounded by Thorn’s soldiers.”

“To be fair, I did divulge your secrets to Stryg.”

“Only after you were stupidly drunk. And I deserved it. All of it,” Loh admitted. “Even still, you came and fought by my side when I was alone. I thought we were going to die.”

“So did I,” Vayu said wryly.

“You almost did. Because of me…”

“I also survived because of you. Consider us even.”

“I owe you far more. Ever since Aizel, I—” Loh’s voice caught in her throat. Even now, she struggled to say her brother’s name aloud. “I manipulated you and led you on. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Vayu cracked a small, bittersweet smile. “I knew what I was getting into. I just thought I could somehow win your heart over. Call it pride or arrogance. Either way, I was wrong.” He scratched his cheek, “That night at Undergrowth when you told me there was no future between us, it hurt, more than I care to recount. But in the end, I’m glad you did it. You helped me finally let go of you and move on.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted,” Loh whispered.

Vayu cleared his throat and showed a brave smile. “Nonsense, now I can have my pick of the most beautiful women in the city.” His eyes wandered over to Lily before focusing back on Loh. “Excluding your lovely damsel, of course.”

“She’s not my— We’re not— You know what I mean,” Loh rambled.

“She’s lying,” Lily mouthed silently from behind her.

“Understood.” Vayu smirked.

“I really do hope you find a woman who can make you happy, you deserve it, Vayu,” Loh said.

“Oh, Elohnoir, neither of us deserves happiness,” he said softly, his eyes growing sad. Then he shook his head and gave a charming grin, though it did not reach his eyes, “It doesn’t mean we can’t try. If you’ll excuse me, I have to get going.”

“About the council,” Loh called out as he walked past her and Lily.

Vayu didn’t break his stride. “If you’re talking about Stryg, don’t bother. I’m fond of the kid, but I’m not interested in helping you turn him into a king. Hollow Shade has had enough of kings and queens.”

“Vayu…” Loh whispered as he turned around the corner.

Lily opened the door behind them. “Shall we?”

“Right.” Loh scrubbed her face with her hands, put on a pleasant smile, and walked into the room. “Good evening, Ismene, how are you feeling?”

The old woman appeared as if she had aged another twenty years. Where once, there had been strength in those beige eyes, now there was a deep-set tiredness. The woman had single-handedly held a gate against Marek’s horde. She had almost died from the mana burnout. Many mages had been cooked alive from the inside just by wielding half the amount of mana Ismene channeled that day.

 “Better than yesterday,” Ismene grumbled.

“Is there anything I can get you?” Loh sat next to the bed.

“No. Your servants have seen to that.” Ismene grimaced and fell into a coughing fit.

Lily poured a glass of water from a nearby pitcher and gently lifted Ismene into a sitting position before holding the cup to her lips. Ismene took a couple of gulps before settling back down. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, young one,” Lily said in a soothing voice.

Ismene stared at her for a long moment, then she paused, seeing something deep in Lily’s ruby eyes. “You know, I never did like you. I thought you were just some pretty little thing Elzri kept around for his own pleasure.”

“I know. I made sure you did,” Lily said.

“What are you really?” Ismene asked.

“A friend. If you’d like,” Lily replied.

Ismene stared up at the ceiling. “I always thought I’d die old and decrepit in a bed like this, while Elzri still looked middle-aged. But now he’s gone and I’m still here. Not for much longer, I reckon. I suppose you’ll be the only one who lingers.”

“I suppose I will,” Lily said solemnly.

“The healers say you’re recovering, Ismene.” Loh grabbed the old woman’s frail hand.

Ismene scoffed. “I can hardly cast a simple novice spell. I’ll be lucky if I can ever walk again.”

“Ismene, I… I’ve met people, more powerful than even my grandfather, far more powerful. I think they can help you. I’ll talk to them and—”

“I’ve lived long enough, child. I do not fear death, not anymore,” Ismene said.

“I don’t want you to go.” Loh’s voice quivered.

“I’m not dying,” Ismene chuckled, which ended in a cough. “At least not yet.”

Loh laughed and wiped the tears in the corners of her eyes. Lily wandered towards the window as the two talked. She idly stared at the carriage waiting outside; it no doubt belonged to Vayu Glaz. Something moved in the corner of her eye. Lily turned and spotted several dark figures clambering up the outer walls, somehow entirely ignoring the various wards in place. A flicker of light appeared in the treeline.

Lily spun around, “Get down!”

Loh frowned, “What?”

A cacophony of explosions echoed throughout the manor and rocked the very foundations.

~~~

Eight watched the blessed alchemy bombs tear through the Noir Manor’s walls, sending half the mansion up in flames. They were far more potent than Six had led him to believe. 

A cloaked figure glided up beside him. “My lord, the house has sustained more damage than we anticipated.”

“I am aware,” Eight replied calmly.

“What are your orders?” 

“Nothing has changed. Proceed as planned. Kill the titan offspring.”

Chapter 659: Ambush

“Here, have some,” Stryg offered Tauri a whole roasted chicken on a spit. The stall in front of them would roast a dozen chickens at a time until they were nice and juicy. Then he’d sell pieces of them to customers walking by. This was one of the few instances Stryg was happy to have money to spend. He could buy as many whole chickens as he wanted. Back in the Blood Fang village, such a luxury was unheard of.

Tauri, however, did not appreciate the marvel of easy to come by food. “I’m good, thanks.” Her voice was despondent and her eyes stared elsewhere into nothingness.

Stryg glanced at Gale and offered the roast chicken.

“I already ate.” Gale politely shook her head. She had spent enough time with Stryg to know he’d continue to offer one food until they declined. Her lord didn’t seem to understand that not everyone shared a titan’s appetite.

“More for me.” Stryg shrugged at the two of them and began to wolf down the roast chicken. 

Tauri walked off into the merchant street, wandering from one stall to the next, without particularly looking at anything. Stryg followed behind her, silently enjoying his meal. Gale followed behind both of them, keeping an eye out for any threats.

It didn’t take long for Stryg to finish devouring his meal. He licked his fingers and lamented not having bought another.

“There is a winery not too far from here that sells delicious bloodwine if you’re interested, my lord,” Gale said.

“That sounds nice. Tauri, do you want some blood—, I mean, do you want some regular wine?”

“No thanks,” Tauri said without any emotion.

Stryg frowned. He stepped into her path and she almost bumped into him by accident. Where once he had been a head shorter than her, now they were about the same height. Though she was never tall, especially in comparison to most of her family, it was still strange for Stryg to have matched her height. He pushed that thought away for now.

“Tauri, what’s going on with you?”

“Huh?” She blinked and refocused her gaze, then frowned. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been distant. What’s wrong?”

“I said I’m fine.” She sidestepped him and kept walking.

Stryg followed. “You didn’t take a single bite of the chicken.”

“Not everyone likes simple street food. You realize I grew up with cooks preparing fine meals for me every day, right? Gale’s no different.”

Gale shrugged in silent agreement.

“You always eat when we come to the Commoner District.” Stryg slipped his hand into Tauri’s.

Tauri interlaced her scarlet fingers with his blue without slowing down her pace. “That’s because you like the food here and I’m a good partner.”

“What does that mean?” Stryg asked.

“It means she humors you and your eating habits, my lord,” Gale said.

“Okay, so you don’t like the food. That still doesn’t explain why you’re acting this way,” Stryg said.

“What way? I told you I’m fine,” Tauri said.

“Okay. I could just find out for myself.” Stryg raised his free hand and wiggled his fingers. Purple strands of light extend from each finger tip.

Tauri stopped in her steps and glared at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Read your mind? Nah. Cast a simple mind spell to tell if you’re lying to me or not about being okay? Most definitely, yes.” Stryg matched her glare with a smirk.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“I’ve been told I’m a genius, actually.”

“A prodigy,” Tauri corrected. “A prodigy is someone with extraordinary talent. A genius is a person with superior intelligence. You are the former, not the latter. In other words, you’re still an idiot.”

“People have still called me a genius.”

“So you’re happy to be complimented incorrectly by the ignorant?” Tauri cocked an eyebrow.

“Isn’t that what you nobles do?”

Tauri narrowed her eyes, but she couldn’t help but crack a small grin. “Fair enough.”

Stryg smiled and bumped shoulders with her. “So, wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s my brother, Lucas,” she admitted with a sigh.

“We’re still going to send a team to go and find him. You don’t have to worry.”

“How? Half the ships were damaged when Lunae raised her frozen fleet from the Dire River. And the rest of the ships have been cut off from leaving the docks because of all the broken boats blocking the port. It’ll take days, maybe even weeks, before the blue mages can clear it all out.”

“We can get a ship out onto the river, I can make sure of that.” Stryg glanced at Gale, who nodded in reassurance. 

“Even if you did, no captain worth their salt would sail towards Murkton after Lunae’s display,” Tauri said.

“I’m sure we can find someone. Gold has a way of swaying people,” Gale said.

“Even if it does, what then?” Tauri asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Stryg.

“Say you gather a party and Beatrix doesn’t betray them. Say you manage to commandeer a ship and her crew. If by some miracle they manage to slip past the Sylvan lines and into the city, how are they going to get Lucas out of the city safely? If the orcs don’t catch them, the goblins will.”

“The Sylvan wouldn’t hurt your brother,” Stryg said.

“How do you know that? He is an orc. They won’t think twice about killing him on sight,” Tauri said.

“Not if I’m there—”

“But you won’t be there, will you?”

Stryg stopped in his steps. “I promised Lunae I wouldn’t go…”

“That’s my point. If you’re not there, who will stop the Sylvan from attacking my brother and the rest of the party? A Gale vampire?” Tauri said.

“I could send Uncle Jahn.” Stryg knew it was a flimsy idea when he said it. Jahn was the chieftain of a tribe, but he wasn’t a high-ranking member in the Sylvan army. The warriors outside his tribe would have no reason to listen to him. “My mother could do it. She is still Lunae’s favoured. The tribes respect her.”

“Didn’t you say Lunae exiled her from Vulture Woods and forbade her from joining the Sylvan army?” Tauri recalled.

Stryg winced, he had almost forgotten.

“Tauri is right, my lord. Lady Aurelia will not go to Murkton no matter what you tell her,” Gale said.

“Then Uncle Gian.”

“Gian is Aurelia’s Shadow now. He would never travel so far away from her, not when she has a target on her back now that every noble in the city knows that she is an Ebon Lord,” Gale said.

“There is no one in this city but you, Stryg, who can ensure the Sylvan do not kill my brother when he leaves the city,” Tauri said. “And if he doesn’t leave, then the Sylvan will kill him anyway when they attack. If you don’t go, Lucas will die.” 

“I promised Lunae …” Stryg muttered.

Tauri pulled him to her and stared into his pale eyes. “Stryg I always go along with all your antics.”

“Antics?” Stryg asked.

“Like all the biting, especially you know where,” Tauri gave him a knowing look.

“Oh.”

“Spare me the details, please,” Gale said dryly.

“My point is, this time I’m asking you for help, Stryg,” Tauri said.

“You’re asking me to break a promise to a goddess,” Stryg said.

“Did you make a divine oath to her?” Tauri asked.

“Well, no, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't suffer her divine wrath.”

“You’re a god, you’ll be fine,” Tauri said.

“Will I, though? Lunae pushed me off a cliff once and I almost died, and that was her being nice.”

“Since when were you a coward?” Tauri scowled.

“I’m not a coward. I just know Lunae can quite literally see everything I do whenever she wants and that she keeps an eye on me. If I go, she’ll probably have a battalion of warriors waiting for me when we get there. The plan will fail even before it begins.” 

“So you’re saying it’s hopeless?” Tauri’s shoulders drooped.

“No. I’ll ask my nephew to help,” Stryg said.

“Your nephew?” Tauri asked.

“Atlas Holoson. He is a demigod. He’s currently staying with the Noirs. If anyone can safely get your brother out of Murkton, it’s him.”

“And what if he decides not to help?” Tauri asked.

Stryg scratched his cheek. “I’ll find a way…”

“I’m going with the rescue party,” Tauri said.

“What?” He blinked. “You can’t. It’s dangerous.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for me,” Tauri pulled away and walked off.

Stryg chased after her. “Tauri, wait—”

“Get down!” Gale shouted and tackled Stryg to the ground.

An arrow zipped past Stryg’s head and thunked into a stall behind him. The arrow sizzled on the wood and scorched it a sickly dark green. Gale had already drawn her sword and was searching for the assassin.

“Tauri!” Stryg yelled as he scrambled to his feet.

Tauri had spun around at Gale’s warning and was taking cover behind a stall. “I’m fine!”

“We can’t stay out in the open,” Gale said without taking her eyes off the nearby roofs. 

“We stand and fight,” Stryg growled. Yellow mana surged into his body and covered his skin in translucent, protective scales.

“No. That arrow isn’t normal. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with. We need to move, now,” Gale said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Someone screamed in the crowd and people began to run as several more arrows flew past, taking down several bystanders. A few came close to Stryg, but Gale cut them down with her sword in a flash of steel. “I said move, Stryg!”

He cursed under his breath and ran towards the stall where Tauri was taking cover. Gale was close behind.

~~~

“So, how was your day? I hope your rooms are comfortable,” Calantha said over the dinner table.

“They’re nice, thank you, cousin. It beats sleeping on a ship, that’s for sure.” Sylvie smiled and took a bite out of her steak.

“I’m glad to hear it. Is the food to your liking?”

“It’s delicious, as always. Your cooks are incredible.”

“Good, good… I’m sorry, it’s just, you seem a little off today.”

Sylvie’s smile cracked. “Yeah, well, everything feels off. I thought coming back to Hollow Shade was going to be just like when I left, but it’s not. I haven’t spoken to Poppy yet, not that I blame her. I didn’t leave on the best of terms. With Cal, I thought things would be different, but…”

“I’m assuming by Cal, you aren’t referring to me?” Calantha asked.

Sylvie chuckled. “No, Callum Veres.”

“Oh, the Veres boy,” Calantha smirked. “Tell me more.”

Sylvie felt her cheeks growing hot. “Well—”

Calantha jumped to her feet, knife in hand, and glanced at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Sylvie asked, standing up as well.

Calantha raised her wrist and pointed at her bracelet. A dozen gems were embedded into the golden loop, four of them were glowing a soft green. “Your mother inscribed a series of complex wards into the manor years ago. They’ve just been breached in four points. We’re under attack.”

Chapter 658: The Pit

“Our souls are connected to Mortem…?” Lysaila asked. The lamia’s and Rhian’s expressions had grown darker with every word Stryg had spoken to them. He really didn’t want to say anything more, but he owed it to them.

“Technically, you don’t have a soul.” Stryg winced. “Only the World Soul is capable of creating souls. What my father and sister accomplished was to create an organic shell. Then my father used his own connection with the World Soul to impart a sliver of his power into the beastkins, thereby imitating a soul. It’s also that sliver of power that gives him control over all of you.”

“And because you inherited that power, you can also exert control over the beastkin,” Lysaila surmised.

“Whoa, is that what you did the other day?” Rhian asked.

“No. No, I’d never try to control you, Rhian, or any beastkin. I simply reached through our connection and spoke to you. It’s different,” Stryg said.

“Not really,” Lysaila muttered. “At the end of the day, we are bound to you, whether we want to or not. It’s the same reason I can’t hurt you even if I tried.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Rhian asked. “I’d never try to hurt Stryg. I like being connected to him, we watch each other’s backs.”

“It’s not just Stryg, Rhiannon!” Lysaila hissed. “Every single son and daughter of Mortem can command us at will and we can do nothing to stop it, nothing! What do you think will happen when Mortem’s scions, the ones who used us as pawns in their wars, find us? Do you think they will be your friend like Stryg? Huh!? 

“I… I didn’t think about that,” Rhian mumbled.

“Of course, you didn’t! Because you’re a brainless idiot who only cares about being a hero like those stupid children stories Karen tells to the orphans! We’ll guess what, Rhiannon? We’re tools! That’s all we are! Tools for the cruel gods that made us. ”

“Lysaila, that’s enough,” Stryg said.

But the lamia pushed on. “When a Mortem scion appears at your doorstep, you won’t be able to stop them from sending you off to fight for their wars until you’re dead. Which turns out, will be the actual end for us. We don’t get reincarnated like everyone else, because it turns out we’re not even really alive!” 

Rhian’s cheeks had grown red and she bit her trembling lip as she struggled not to cry. Lysaila stopped at the sight, her shoulders heaving from her anger and lack of breath. 

“I’m sorry,” Stryg said. “I understand why you’re angry, but it’s not Rhian’s fault. Don’t take it out on her.”

“You don’t understand...” Lysaila turned her back on them. “What this really means for us. For all of us. My family,” her voice cracked, “They’re all dead… and they’re not coming back. They’re gone, forever.”

“I…” Stryg’s words failed him. What could he say? How could he respond to such a tragedy?

“How do we stop it?” Lysaila asked quietly.

“Stop it?” Stryg asked.

“How do we break this hold Mortem has on us? Remove his power from our bloodlines?”

Stryg cleared his throat. “You can’t. My father’s power is what gives you a connection to the World Soul. Without it, you’ll all die.”

Lysaila stiffened. “What did you say?”

“Without my father’s power, all the beastkin will die,” Stryg replied reluctantly.

“Does Holo know?” Lysaila whispered.

“I’m not sure, but my father said she did.”

“I need to go.” Lysaila slithered out of the room without another word.

“...I think I’m alive,” Rhian mumbled.

Stryg broke into a smile and hugged her, his arms barely reaching up around her waist. “You are alive.”

“I’m your friend, right?” Rhian swallowed hard. “Not just a tool?”

“Rhiannon.” He looked up and met her eyes. “You have never been a tool. You are my family and that’s never going to change.”

Her lips tugged at the edges with the faintest hint of a smile. “We’re the Ebon Tribe?”

“Always.”

~~~

Holo was in her office, skimming through a stack of papers regarding the reconstruction of Hollow Shade and the weak points of integrity found in the wall. After the Sylvan army left yesterday, Holo had been flooded with paperwork and reports from guards patrolling the now unoccupied neighborhoods.

Holo heard Lysaila barrelling her way through the hallways long before she saw her. The door slammed open and Lysalia rushed in. “How long have you known!?” she demanded.

“About?” Holo replied without breaking her calm composure.

“That my kind can’t be set free. That it isn’t a curse. Mortem’s power, your power, runs through our bodies. It’s what keeps us alive, and without it, we’ll die.”

Holo sighed. “My father told me such a thing once, yes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me? You’d rather lie and manipulate me all so I could do your bidding like a dog!?”

“If I wanted to force you to do my bidding, all I’d have to do is command you. Sit,” Holo gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

The word ran through Lysaila’s body with a shiver and she found her body moving of its own accord as she sat down on the chair. “What are you doing?” she hissed.

“Proving my point. That was a simple command enforced upon your body. Now, I could take over your mind and make it so that all you think about is wanting to obey my every word and you’d relish every second of it. But I won’t, because like you, I’m searching for a way to break the beastkin free from their curse.”

“Don’t ever command me like that again,” Lysaila growled.

“Gladly. Now, as for the nature of your curse. We still don’t know the entire truth. Sure, my father claims there is nothing that can be done about it, but so was the concept of creating life, and yet here you are. I swear to you, I will never give up on finding a way to free you and every other beastkin, Lysaila.”

“And why should I believe you after everything?”

“Because believe it or not, as your grandmother, I do, in fact, care for you.”

“You’re not my grandmother.”

“Eh, several generations removed,” she added as an afterthought.

“You are my species’ creator, it’s not the same.”

“I raised the first lamia as my own daughter. I rocked her to sleep as she cried every night. I was there when she spoke her first words. I was there every step of her life. She was my daughter and I was her mother. I loved her. Do you have any idea what it was like to see the light in her eyes disappear when my father activated his ‘curse’ and she became a lifeless soldier in his army? The first beastkin were all my children; I raised every single one of them, and they were taken from me.” 

“I didn’t know…”

“Why would you?” Holo smiled weakly. “I ordinarily try to distance myself from beastkins. It’s easier to pretend as if I do not care what happens to them, because when I look at you, I am reminded of all I’ve lost. But I want you to know, I have been searching for a way to break the curse long before you were born and I will never stop until you are free from it. Even if it costs me my life, I will never stop fighting.” 

“What was she like?” Lysaila whispered. “The first lamia?”

“She was kind. She never wanted to hurt a soul. She loved to paint. You were not made to be soldiers, Lysaila. You were made to live.”

A knock brought their attention away and they looked up in unison. Kaitlin, the chief healer of the Singing Willow Troupe, stood in the doorway. “Hey, Captain, sorry to interrupt. One of our own just brought in a report I think you’d like to see.”

“Show it to me.” Holo gestured for her to come in.

Kaitlin gave a quick nod to Lysaila and handed Holo a slip of paper. “Some of the southern guards were on patrol and found a 6-meter deep pit of sorts under a ruined house in the Commoner District. They think it was dug during the siege. There were a bunch of arcane sigils on the pit’s walls. The local barracks’ mage couldn’t make sense of the sigils. He copied a few and had one of the guards send it up the ladder. Our people intercepted it and gave it to me. The thing is, I couldn’t make sense of the sigils either. Any idea what they are?”

“This is a highly advanced and complex concealment arcane lattice.” Holo narrowed her eyes. “What were they hiding?”

“No idea. Want me to send in a party?”

“No. They wouldn’t be able to understand it. I’ll go myself. Lysaila, forgive me, but we’ll have to continue this conversation some other time. Feel free to stay as long as you’d like. Kaitlin will keep you company. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Holo inclined her head in an apology, then Flickered out of the room, leaving behind a shower of orange sparks.

Kaitlin glanced at Lysaila. “So, wanna get a drink?”

She sighed. “...Yeah. I think I do.”

~~~

Holo found a couple of guards standing outside the shattered walls and caved-in roof that had once been a home. She walked up to them and showed them a writ that stated she was the right hand of the Southern Bulwark Commander, a convenient lie that made it so nobody asked questions. No one wanted to get on the bad side of Commander Stonehand.

The soldiers straightened up as they read the writ and quickly moved out of the way. Holo stepped under the broken doorway and watched her head as she made her way through the ruins. 

No wonder nobody had found the pit. This place was a hazard, bound to fall apart any day. It was a miracle that anything was still standing. Holo stepped into what she assumed was once a bedroom and found the pit. It was a small hole, only a meter wide. She leaped down without hesitation.

Holo landed on her feet with a heavy thud and glanced around. She was mildly surprised to find it widened significantly the deeper down it went. The bottom was as large as the entire house. Her eyes shifted to their natural lilac color and the darkness faded away, revealing countless arcane sigils over the walls.

“What is this…?” Holo marveled at the sight. This wasn’t the work of a couple of barbarians during the siege. No, this level of complex sigil work would have taken weeks of painstakingly careful planning. Only someone of incredible arcane skill and knowledge could have accomplished this. It would take a few minutes for Holo to even begin to understand its purpose.

The concealment sigils she had seen earlier in her office now began to make more sense. Whatever this was, its creator didn’t want anyone to find it. “What were you trying to hide?” she muttered.

“You,” came a voice from above.

Holo glanced upwards and saw the two guards from earlier standing by the edge of the pit. Before she could react, the sigils flared to life, and a deafening shriek assaulted her sensitive hearing. Holo grimaced and held her ears, and reflexively Flickered away. Her orange mana surged throughout her body, but when the sparks faded, she found herself in the same spot.

Blue flames wrapped around her arms and she threw her hands outwards. The flames crashed into the walls and surged up the pit. A magical barrier manifested over the hole and blocked the flames from escaping. As the smoke cleared, the walls appeared unscathed. And still, the screeching shriek remained, disorientating her. 

“Heed my call, Lyrae!”

The once strong connection Holo felt with her orichalcum spear was nowhere to be found. She reached out to the weapon bound to her soul but there was no answer. Holo fell to her knees, head in her hands, and cried out in pain. 

“Inform them the first phase is complete,” said one of the false guards.

The other nodded and left.

Chapter 657: A Miracle

A week had passed since the Lunar Elects met with the Seven Ruling Houses in the High Chamber. The Sylvan armies had gathered their belongings and once again mobilized for war. Lord Katag Krall had ordered a retinue of soldiers to be stationed throughout the entire path, from the Commoner District to the city gates, in order to prevent any disgruntled Hollow Shade resident from trying to ‘interfere’ with the goblins marching down the streets. The last thing the city needed was for a drunk idiot to throw a rock at one of the goblin warriors. 

People lined up on the side of the streets to watch the goblin army march down the cobblestone streets, spears in hand. The goblins didn’t wear the heavy armour favoured by Hollow Shade soldiers; instead, they opted for lightweight leather and grey mottled cloaks that blended into the ashen trees of Vulture Woods.

The giant Frost Wolves led the army, while their smaller wolf cousins brought up the rear. Despite being far smaller than Frost Wolves, the wolves of Vulture Woods, like so many beasts from that forest, were much larger than any wolf found in the Northern Lands. People stared, and children pointed excitedly at the wolves and their riders.

Stryg stood on the wall, atop the city gate with Gale and some of the Sylvan leaders. Watching and waiting for the army to arrive. Stryg worried that a small fight might break out amongst the residents and the army, but when he spotted the army coming down the street, he was surprised to find the crowds of onlookers cheering and wishing the goblins well.

“How…?” He had expected many outcomes, but not this one. Stryg had the cruelty and indifference that the people had towards the goblins. To see them cheering his own kind, it broke something in Stryg, and he felt his throat tighten at the sight. 

“My lord?” Gale asked.

“It’s nothing, just… It’s like they’re cheering on heroes.”

“They are heroes,” Gale said. “If it wasn’t for the Sylvan, the Commoner District would have been the first to have burned and been ransacked. To the people living here, the goblins are the heroes.”

“You should mingle with the people more often. It would do you well to learn how their sentiments have changed. Especially about you, Little One,” Lunae said.

“When was the last time you mingled with the people?” Stryg cocked an eyebrow.

“My farsight allows me to see them just fine from up here, cheeky boy,” Lunae flicked him on the forehead.

“Ow.” Stryg winced and rubbed his forehead. “Aren’t you two supposed to protect me?” He looked at Gale and Elayne, the captain of his Sylvan honor guard.

“Not from her,” Elayne replied.

Gale just laughed in his face.

“They will be arriving soon. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head down first.” Elayne glanced at Stryg and bowed, “It has been an honor fighting by your side, War Master.”

 Stryg returned the bow. “The honor was mine, Captain.”

Elayne smiled, then turned to Lykos, the Warrior Elect. “Father.”

Lykos nodded, “Daughter.”

Elayned bowed one last time to Lunae, more deeply than the rest, before heading towards the wooden lift hanging from the side of the wall.

“I’ll be heading down as well,” Lykos hoisted his spear.

“I’ll join you,” Aurelia said.

“I need to speak to you first, Aurelia,” Lunae said. She was in her humanoid form, only a third of her usual height, though still taller than any goblin. A cloak of silken white wrapped her shoulders, but did nothing to hide her lustrous pale hair.

Lykos glanced at Aurelia, but said nothing, then bowed to Lunae and left.

“How may I serve, Mother Moon?” Aurelia stared at her feet.

“Fir the last twenty-five years, you have served me well, as an acolyte and then as my priestess. But,” Lunae’s eyes grew hard. “You broke your vows and not only slept with a man, but had a child.”

Aurelia’s face grew pale at the goddess’ words. Lumi, the Shaman Elect, watched on in silent surprise, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Stryg stepped forward, “Lunae, you can’t fault her for–”

“Silence,” Lunae held up her hand. “I can and I do. Aurelia knew very well what her duties and vows entailed. And still, she broke them. To make matters worse, she fled Evenfall to escape her punishment.”

“My mother fled to protect me!” Stryg said.

“I said silence!” Lunae snapped. “You have done much since then to redeem yourself, Aurelia Veres, but that does not absolve you of your crimes. For far too long, your punishment has been withheld. But as a new dawn begins for our people, I cannot allow the crimes of old to go forgotten.”

“I understand,” Aurelia whispered meekly. She dropped to her knees and bowed her head. “I will accept whatever penance you deem worthy, no matter how severe.” Head still bowed, she glanced at Stryg and silently mouthed, ‘I love you.’

“For your crimes of breaking your divine vows and abandoning your post in the Celestial Shrine, I strip you of the title of Sylvan Motherhood.” Lunae tore the scarlet-black laurel from Aurelia’s head and tossed it over the wall. “You shall never bear the name of First Mother again. You shall never serve as shaman of a tribe. And you shall never lead the armies of the Sylvan Tribes. Do not try to fight alongside our warriors in search of absolution; you are forbidden from joining their ranks. From this day forward, you are banished from Vulture Woods. I suggest you find another home, Aurelia Veres.” Lunae turned and walked away.

Aurelia slowly looked up, tears in her eyes. “...Thank you, Mother Moon,” she called out quietly.

Lumi’s jaw hung slack in disbelief and incredulity. “W-What…? You can’t just—!”

Lunae glared at her, daring Lumi to say something. The goblin shaman shrank back in fear and hurried to move out of Lunae’s way.

“What just happened…?” Stryg muttered.

“I get it…” Gale smiled.

“Get what?” Stryg asked.

Gale leaned and whispered into his ear, “Lunae just relieved your mother of all her sacred, life-long duties. Your mother could have never chosen between the responsibilities to her tribe and to your family; so Lunae made the choice for her, absolving Lady Aurelia from any guilt or judgment from others. She is now free to stay in Hollow Shade with you and live as Lady Veres.”

The Shaman Elect glared daggers at Aurelia, but said nothing and followed after Lunae.

“Mom… are you alright?” Stryg asked carefully.

Aurelia hadn’t moved. She was still on her knees, tears flowing freely. “I’ll be okay.”

~~~

Beatrix dai-Morrigan watched the Sylvan procession from atop the roof of a tavern on the docks. Her injuries had almost fully recovered thanks to the week of rest and the expert treatment of the Katags’ white mages.

“We were supposed to meet with the ship captain inside the tavern,” Lady Evelyn Katag grumbled as she hoisted her dress, and clambered out the window and onto the roof.

“I wanted to see the Sylvan army,” said Beatrix.

“You can see them from the window.”

“I wanted to feel the breeze.”

“You can feel the breeze with the window open—”

“I don’t want to be in a stuffy room for another minute.”

“Fair enough.” Evelyn sat down next to her. “I’ve commandeered the fastest ship money can buy. You will be heading out tomorrow night. The Dire River is rough this time of year, but large armies move slowly. You’ll arrive at Murkton and have at least two weeks to get my son out of the city before the Sylvan forces arrive.”

“Stryg isn’t joining me. Did he tell you that?” Beatrix asked.

“He did. It seems Lunae has forbidden him from getting directly involved. Don’t worry, I’ve arranged my own personal guards to accompany you.”

“Does that not bother you?”

“Try to be more specific, child.”

“Gods walking among us? Does it not bother you?”

“Does it bother you?”

“Of course, it does! Why do you and Lord Krall seem so nonchalant about it?”

Evelyn shrugged. “We are mortal, Beatrix. Krall and I have never had any disillusions about that. We do not seek to circumvent the natural order of this world, unlike so many mortals who’ve wielded power. We understand that true power has always belonged in the hands of gods, long before we knew they walked among us.”

“What are you saying? That we cannot go against fate?”

“No. I’m saying that if you don’t want to be crushed beneath the world’s heel, it’s best to stand on the shoulders of giants. My House has already pledged itself to Lunae and is building a shrine in her name in our gardens. A few words of wisdom, child; if you wish to survive what is to come, it is best to swear yourself to a god, not a lord.”

Beatrix thought of the deal she had struck with Stryg and its potential lethal ramifications. If it hadn’t been for Stryg informing Beatrix and Evelyn of their mutual knowledge of the divine, Beatrix wouldn’t even be able to speak a word of any of this to her without breaking her side of the deal.

“It’s easier said than done,” Beatrix scoffed.

“I suppose it is, but nothing in life was ever simple. Wait. What is that?” Evelyn narrowed her eyes and pointed at a massive white wolf that had emerged from the front of the Sylvan procession. The she-wolf towered over the other Frost Wolves and the rest bowed as she walked by. “Is that… Lunae?” Evelyn whispered.

Lunae walked over to the shore of the Dire River and stepped into the river, but where her feet touched the water, ice formed around her paws, keeping her afloat, and forming a path of ice behind her. The river was massive, its width about a league across, even more when it rained. Lunae walked across the river until she stood at its center, a small white speck amidst the vast waters.

The sun was beginning to set and the mostly full moon could be seen hanging above the orange skies. Lunae tilted her head upwards and howled a deafening sound that sent massive waves outwards, smashing many of the boats into the docks.

“Why is she doing this?” Evelyn grabbed onto the roof in a panic.

“She doesn’t want Hollow Shade’s armies to follow,” Beatrix said in understanding.

“Lunae really doesn’t trust the city council.” Evelyn cracked a wry smile. “Wait, I see something!” She pointed to the river.

Massive peaks of ice jutted out of the water like spears. No, they weren’t spears, Beatrix realized in horror, they were the bows of ships. Frozen galley ships formed out of ice rose from the river. The ice path Lunae had created now served as a pier leading outwards towards the frozen ships that now lined its path.

“A miracle…” Evelyn whispered in awe.

Beatrix and Evelyn could hear the Sylvan army’s cheers even from atop the docks’ tavern as they marched onto the ice path, unafraid.

“I don’t think it’s going to take weeks for them to reach Murkton,” Beatrix muttered grimly.

Chapter 656: A Trace of Hope

The air was cold enough that Holo could see her own breath as white whisps. The temperature had to be almost freezing down in the underground chamber to prevent the bodies from decaying. Her assistants couldn’t stand to be down here for too long before heading back up to the manor Holo had built as a headquarters for the Singing Willow Troupe.

As for Holo, she didn’t mind the cold. She had swum in the deepest waters of the Hoarfrost Bay, where the sun did not reach, and even sirens would avoid for fear of hypothermia. A little cold meant nothing to her. In fact, she preferred it.

Perhaps it was because her mother had been a northern drow and she had grown up in the Northern Lands, in a castle nestled deep in the mountains. The snow had been a constant companion. So it came as a surprise to her when she had first stepped into the warmer islands of the Azure Realm, where the people had never known snow. A tragedy and a beauty all at once.

It had been some time since she had visited the Azurian islands and she made a note to herself to visit soon. Though perhaps, she thought as she examined the corpse on the table, that would have to wait.

The body had once belonged to a vampire, before a spear to the gut had relieved her of her life. Holo didn’t know much about who she was, save that her name was Natalie and she had been a soldier serving on the southern side of the shade wall. Or so the ledger had stated. A single sentence on a piece of paper. That was all Natalie would be remembered by. 

Death had never bothered Holo, a trait she shared with her siblings. But unlike most of her brothers and sisters, Holo wondered who the dead might have been. Were they scared when they died? Were they happy when they were alive? Was Natalie? Would Natalie be angry for what Holo was about to do?

Questions that had no answers and yet Holo found herself asking them just the same. She raised her index finger and shapeshifted her nail into a sharp talon. With careful and precise movement, she pierced the corpse’s flesh and began to write a series of complex runes all across the body.

This time around, she would take her time. Holo had thought of improvements on the design and she was eager to put them into practice. It had to be perfect. Starting with the vampire Natalie.

Holo was so focused on etching the runes and imbuing them with her power that she almost failed to notice the footsteps walking down the stairs.

“I’m busy. Unless it’s terribly important, come back later.”

“Still playing with corpses, I see. You must be oh so terribly busy,” replied Melantha.

Holo resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead continued with her work. “The body isn’t rotten, it’s in pristine condition. And I’m not playing. These new undead sentinels will be placed around our Stryg’s home.”

“As protection? You do realize that anything that could harm Stryg will tear apart through any undead you create?”

“Our little brother has more enemies than just dragonbanes and gods. Many mortals see the return of Ebon Lords as dangerous and some might get it into their little heads to try and do something about it. My sentinels will act as a deterrent from most such people.”

“Fair enough.”

“And they’re not only meant to protect Stryg. The sentinels will be guarding the Noir manor as well. I’ll sleep better once I know my granddaughter has an army guarding her home every hour of the day and night.”

“You’re leaving Unalla in the city?”

“She has spent her whole life traveling. It’s time she learns about her roots. It’ll be good for her to spend time with the other Noirs.”

“She’d much prefer to travel with you,” noted Melantha.

“Oh, I plan to still be here for quite some time. The city is in shambles. I have a lot of work cut out for me.”

Melantha walked around the cold underground chamber, noting the various lattices of sigils etched on the walls. “This place is protected from all forms of farsight, yes?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Even Lunae’s?”

“Yes. What is this about?”

“What about your son and his wife? Are they staying in Hollow Shade, too?”

Holo clicked her tongue, but decided to let Melantha’s change of conversation go, for now. “Yes. Una has decided to mentor Loh and help her become a ‘worthy’ head of House Noir. Whatever that means.”

“I sometimes forget how little you care for nobles and their duties.” Melantha cracked a smile.

Holo scoffed. “Nobles. They think the whole world is counting on them to be a king or duchess or whatever. When the truth is, they’ll die in a couple of years and someone else will take up the job and the world won’t even notice.”

“My, you have a morbid outlook on nobility. Wasn’t your mother a noble?”

“That she was and she was no different. Actually, she was worse. Sleeping with a god made her think she was special, integral to the grand scheme of things. She wasn’t.”

“Is that why you don’t care for nobility, because of your mother?”

“Not even close. Trust me, Melantha, after a thousand years, the affairs of nobles will seem quite ridiculous to you, as well. It’s why I never lingered with Atreus for too long at a time. He was different in his youth, but the older he became, the more he fell into the same follies of mortal kings.”

“I suppose I’ll find out someday. If I live long enough.”

“Now who’s the morbid one?”

“I’d say I’m quite hopeful.”

“Since when?”

“Since I found a legitimate clue to where Hope might be.”

Holo stopped what she was doing and looked at her sister, wide-eyed. “...My gods, you’re serious.”

Melantha nodded. “I wasn’t certain until yesterday.” She held up a weathered shard of rock. Thin, crystalized lines ran across its surface.

“I can’t believe it.” Even from here, Holo could feel faint traces of Hope’s energy coursing through the stone. “It’s recent… she must have poured incredible amounts of energy into this a few days ago at most. Where did you find this?”

“In the Ashen Realm, two decades ago. I estimate Hope made the crystal fissures in the rock over a thousand years ago.”

“What?” Holo frowned. “But then how—?”

“The stone began to glow yesterday on its own. It emitted a huge surge of energy and then it stopped. I don’t know how, but the rock is somehow still connected with Hope. Which means—”

“She’s alive. Hope is alive.”

“I have to find her. I’m leaving tonight for the Ashen Realm. If I can find any more traces of her, then maybe—”

“Tonight? What about Stryg?”

“You’ll have to watch him for me. This is more important. Tell him I’ll be back in a few weeks and to not slack off on any of his training.”

“...If you do find Hope, what will you do?”

“She is the only Calamity who could rival Father. If anyone can help us stop Queen Ananta and the dragonbanes, it’s her.”

~~~

“Can I offer you something to drink? Or eat?”

“No, thank you. That will be all.” Calantha dismissed the servant.

The old man bowed and left her alone in her study. When the door closed, Calantha heaved a sigh and fell back into the cushioned bench in the corner of the room. 

How had everything gone so wrong? she thought as she stared at the ceiling.

The Lunar Elects had completely disregarded any negotiations Calantha and Vayu had tried. The Sylvan were going to war and there was nothing they could do to stop them. The Sylvan army was the greatest and the only real deterrent Hollow Shade had against the other Great Cities.

Now, with the Sylvan forces leaving, Undergrowth could retaliate, or even Frost Rim might seize the chance to attack. Calantha had hoped the Sylvans would see reason; that a war against Murkton, the city with the largest armies in the Ebon Realm, would be long and exhausting. Now was the time for the Sylvan and Hollow Shade to band together against their common enemy, Undergrowth. To rebuild their forces and mount an attack against the Thorns. But such a possibility was gone now. All thanks to Aurelia Veres.

The windowed doors of her balcony swung open with a gust of wind and Calantha sat up, her hand unconsciously gathering Yellow. A figure wrapped in a black cloak stepped out from the balcony; stooping her head under the doorway, before entering the study. 

Calantha released her mana and dropped down to one knee, head bowed. “My lady.”

The stranger pulled down her hood, revealing scarlet red hair and two wolfen ears on the top of her head. Bellum smiled down at her Chosen, golden eyes alight with warm power. “Calantha, it is good to see you.”

“Forgive me, I was not aware of your arrival. I would have prepared—”

“Nonsense. I need nothing.” Bellum shifted and her body shrank until she was about as tall as the average mortal woman. She sat on the cushioned seat and patted the seat next to her, “Come, sit with me.”

Calantha dipped her head and sat down. Her back was rigid and she tried her best not to appear nervous.

“Why are you so tense? Relax.” Bellum smiled wryly.

“But you are a goddess, I am a mere mortal, your servant—”

“Please, you’re my Chosen. You know, I still remember the day we first met as if it were yesterday.”

“My family’s ambush at Glimmer Grove forest. You saved us. Thank you.”

Bellum waved the thanks away. “I was simply there at the right time and I heard your mother's cry for help as she prayed to me. Your mother was a good woman. I remember when she saw me and the first thing she did was to place you at my feet. You were so small, only a few months old. But you looked up at me and right then I knew there was nothing mere about you.”

 Calantha blushed and bowed. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Now, tell me what happened at the High Chamber.” Bellum clapped her back.

Calantha almost pitched forward from the force of the pat and struggled not to wince. “It was a disaster. The Sylvans have it in their heads to start a war with Murkton. Winter will be here in a few months, supply lines will be cut off, and the orcs will have the advantage. Not to mention, it will leave this city exposed. The whole thing is ludicrous. I tried to reason with the council and the Elects, but they were both being swayed by the Veres.”

“This is not the Veres’ doing. It’s my aunt’s.”

“Lunae? But why?”

“She has decided to avenge her city of Lunis. I’m not sure why she chose to do so now, after 300 years, but she seems adamant in her decision.”

“What will you do, my lady?”

“I am the patron of the city, I cannot simply stand by and do nothing. I am going to Murkton to see what can be done to shore up the city’s defenses. It will take a few weeks for the Sylvan army to march all the way to the Silent Marshes. Hopefully, we can mount a powerful enough defense that Lunae will be dissuaded from this bloody campaign.”

“And if she isn’t?”

“I imagine there will be war.”

Chapter 655: The Council & The Elects

Gian followed close behind Aurelia as she strode into the room, each step purposeful, her gaze strong, unbothered. The scarlet laurel wreath she usually wore sat atop her brow, but where once it signified a First mother, now it seemed more like a crown upon the head of the realm’s most powerful arch mage.

“Mom?” Stryg mumbled, wide-eyed.

Aurelia spared him a glance but nothing more. She joined the two Elects, and they sat down on the three chairs that had been prepared for them, facing the half-ring table of the Seven.

Calantha scoffed with a forced smile. “Thank you, herald, for the illustrious and unexpected welcome, but surely everyone here can see how ridiculous this is. Lady Aurelia is a Veres. A member of her family is already sitting right there.” She pointed at Stryg.

“Believe me, High Priestess, I’d rather not have anyone besides an Elect sit by my side during this meeting of powers, but—” Lumi gave Aurelia a begrudging look. “Aurelia the Blooded is a Favoured of our Mother Moon and she is a First Mother and once upon a time the apprentice of the Mother Elect. She is Mother Sabina’s heir and therefore the most qualified to sit upon that chair, regardless of her status as a Veres.”

“Lumi…” Aurelia stared at her as if she had grown a second head. Lumi ignored her.

“Quite the illustrious life you have lived, Lady Aurelia. Even if that is the case, there is a conflict of interest. We cannot be certain Lord Stryg Veres will have Hollow Shade’s best interests at heart when his mother sits on the Evenfall council, especially because Lord Stryg grew up amongst the Sylvan folk,” Calantha said.

“What are you implying?” Loh asked.

“That to ensure a fair treaty amongst our people, Lord Veres’ power to vote shall be withheld from this meeting,” Calantha replied.

“Huh?” Stryg said. Why was everything going exactly how he did not expect it to go?

“You cannot be serious.” Freya shot up to her feet. The motion was meant to show her outrage, but the high table made it so only her head stayed visible like a toddler, ruining the effect.

“This is not unprecedented. Several of your families have cadet branches living in the other Great Cities and when the time came to deal with them, your predecessors would step back to ensure fair dealings. It is how we prevent collusions, the kind that allowed us to overthrow the previous seat of power in this city,” Calantha said the final words with a poignant voice.

“You think they’re going to overthrow us?” Freya laughed. “The Sylvan just saved our asses from a literal warlord bent on murdering every noble in this city, which, last I checked, included every member of this council.”

“And we are grateful for your contribution,” Calantha said to Lunar Elects, then turned back to Freya, “But that does not change the fact that Lady Aurelia Veres is an Ebon Lord, the same power that we overthrew centuries ago. Forgive me for being cautious for our city, but I stand by my decision. All in favor?”

“Aye,” Vayu said, surprising several others. Dark bags were under his eyes and his usual calm, even mirthful, expression was gone, replaced by a grim lord. “To protect our families from foreign Great Cities, Stryg’s power should be withheld for this meeting.”

The middle-aged woman who served as Tristan’s advisor leaned over and whispered to him. The boy listened intently and nodded before speaking up. “House Helene agrees with Lady Ashe and Lord Glaz.”

Calantha looked at Loh expectantly. The fourth vote would ensure the majority. But then Loh did something Calantha did not expect.

“I do not side with Lady Ashe’s decision,” Loh said.

“Neither do I,” Freya said.

“What?” Calantha mumbled. Freya, she understood, the Goldelms and Veres had been close for a thousand years. But Loh Noir quite famously had a falling out with her apprentice, Stryg Veres. So why would she help Stryg? Could they have made up? When? Was it at the ball? Calantha had spotted them dancing, but Loh had seemed uncomfortable, as if she were struggling with something. Had something happened after the dance, before the Blackveins had ruined the ball? How could Calantha have missed it?

The last few days, Calantha had been busy preparing for the arrival of her goddess. She cursed her own ineptitude for having missed such a crucial change in the political tide of power.

“...House Katag stands with House Veres,” Krall said a moment later. He seemed distracted. The Katags stared at the Elects, thinly veiled suspicion practically dripping off of them.

And there it is, Calantha thought. Veres had managed to obtain a majority vote among the council.

“Obviously, I vote to keep my power,” Stryg added.

Gale sighed quietly in relief. For a moment, she was worried Stryg would say something stupid.

“As de facto leader of this council, I would like to remind all of you that Aurelia Veres is an Ebon Lord. Do you really want to give the most powerful being in this chamber even more power?” Calantha asked.

“This one is annoying,” Lykos muttered quietly to Lumi.

“Agreed, but she is still the goddess of war’s chosen,” Lumi whispered. “This must be a play by Bellum herself to limit the Mother Moon’s power in this city.”

Aurelia agreed with Lumi’s assessment but held her tongue. She would not interfere in the inner politics of this city.

Evelyn Katag leaned over and whispered to Krall. He nodded and cleared his throat, “Lady Calantha makes a point.”

“Lord Krall?” Calantha asked, a thread of hope in her voice.

“Our High Priestess has graciously taken upon herself the burden of serving as our de facto leader ever since Lady Ayda Glaz fell in battle. We have been unable to vote in a new council leader since. I motion we amend that situation right now,” Krall said.

“What are you doing?” Calantha asked with a sinking feeling. She could see what was unfolding, but she didn’t want to believe it could happen so soon.

“I second that motion,” Freya said.

“Then we shall proceed. I vote that Stryg Veres be inducted as the leader of this council. All in favor?” Krall raised his hand.

“What the fuck?” Stryg whispered. What in all the blood realms was happening today? Why was he not told about any of this previously?

“Aye.” Freya raised her hand, a smug smirk on her lips.

Loh gave Stryg a solemn look and slowly raised her hand. “Aye.”

“This was clearly planned and will not serve our city’s best interests. I had hoped better of you, Loh. I understand Stryg is your protege, but you are playing a very dangerous game trying to consolidate all that power into him. He is young and brash, you know this better than anyone,” Vayu said.

“I understand how you feel, Vayu, and I do not fault you. But I’m doing this for the sake of the city. We need someone who cares for more than the noble caste,” Loh said. 

“I see.” Vayu sighed. “I vote nay.”

Tristan looked at his advisor expectantly. She gave him a subtle shake of the head. He turned back to the council. “House Helene votes nay as well.”

Calantha turned to Stryg. “My vote will not matter if you vote aye. So what will it be, Lord Veres?”

Stryg blinked. He hadn’t seen this coming. No one had told him. His focus had been entirely on the war with Murkton, not a play for power. Had Krall planned this advance? Or had it been Evelyn?

“Say aye,” Gale whispered into his ear.

If it meant keeping his voice on the council… “Aye,” Stryg whispered. “Aye,” he repeated, this time louder and more confident.

Calantha held back a sigh and closed her eyes. “Very well. As de facto leader, I relinquish my powers and stand aside for the council’s chosen leader, Lord Stryg of the Great House of Veres.”

“Thank you, Lady Ashe.” Stryg gave a nod. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do next and looked at Gale for help. She gave him a subtle glance towards the Lunar Elects. “Thank you, Elects, and First Mother, for joining us today.”

“Are you all done with your politics?” asked Aurelia.

“Uh? Y-Yeah,” Stryg replied. It felt weird speaking to his mother in such a formal setting, or rather, it felt all too familiar. It was as if he were a child again, standing in front of the village’s Mothers after being caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“In that case, I am here to inform your council that the Sylvan armies will be leaving your city by the end of the week,” Aurelia said.

“Thank you for your aid in battle. Our city would have fallen if it were not for you. I can only hope you leave an emissary behind. My House would be honored to maintain a strong relationship with your people,” Vayu said.

“An emissary shall be left,” Aurelia replied.

Calantha narrowed her scarlet eyes. “May I ask where your army will go?” 

Aurelia turned to Lykos, who spoke in turn. “Our armies will be heading to Murkton.”

His words made the rest of the council, but Stryg and Krall, sit up in their chairs.

“Murkton? Why would you go to Murkton?” Calantha asked.

“War,” Lykos said.

“Why? We have not heard anything regarding a war,” Vayu said.

Calantha didn’t bother to ask the same question as Vayu. She already knew the answer. Many had forgotten the atrocities that were wrought upon Lunis. Calantha was not such a person. The look in the goblins’ eyes said it all.

“We are telling you now, aren’t we?” Lumi cocked an eyebrow.

“But for what reason are you starting a war?” Vayu pressed.

“We are not starting a war; we are simply ending the one that has been ongoing for the last three centuries,” Lykos explained.

“We are allies with Murkton. Surely, you can see how that poses a problem,” Vayu said.

“We did not come here for your opinion, drow. We came to warn you all to stay out of our way,” Aurelia said.

Vayu’s expression darkened, but he did not reply.

“Is that your stance as a Sylvan or a Veres, too, Lady Aurelia?” Calantha asked. The way Stryg did not respond to the Warrior Elect’s announcement told her that House Veres already knew about the war. The Veres were playing a very dangerous game. The last thing Hollow Shade needed right now was to be implicated in another war by proxy.

“I came as a representative of the Mother Elect and my words represent the will of the Sylvan Tribes.” Aurelia took off her scarlet laurel and eyed Tristan, Vayu, and finally settled on Calantha. “But as a Veres, as an Ebon Lord, and as a mother, trust me when I say that if you harm my son, I will end your bloodline, alliances be damned. There will be no explanations or justifications, there will only be death. Do not test me on this, or you will sorely regret to find that your gods will not save you.”

“I like her,” Freya whispered to Stryg.

Chapter 654: The High Chamber

The Central District was home to the High Chamber of Hollow Shade, where the Ebon Lords of old gathered and ruled over the city. A long, rectangular table made of black stone sat at the center of the circular chamber. Ashen wood chairs lined the table, one for each of the great Ebon Lords.

Yet in time, the Ebon Lords began to fall, one at a time. Many were slain during the war against Lunis. Some passed from the after-effects of the creation of the Shade Wall, while others were found dead from mysterious and dubious circumstances.

In the end, only Atreus Thorn, a young Ebon Aspirant, survived. When he came into his own power, he waged war against the Houses that once proudly boasted Ebon Lords. Without their Ebon Lords, the Houses’ power had waned, and they were swiftly crushed.

Atreus declared himself king of Hollow Shade and had his green mages destroy the High Chamber’s black stone table and fashion it into a throne that he placed on a dais, watching over the rest of the chamber, where he placed a new table. It was a half-ring in shape and made of a dark wood. His most loyal retainers were given a seat, each chair aimed in the direction of the Rose Throne.

The Last Ebon Lord’s reign would not last. When Atreus died, his death was as mysterious and unclear as those that came before him. With the Last Ebon Lord dead and his heir nowhere to be found, there was a hole left in the power structure of the city-state. 

The second son of Atreus declared himself king and acted quickly to try and keep a stranglehold over the other Houses, but open rebellion broke out, led by six powerful families, some more ancient than even House Thorn.

But it was a minor merchant House, composed of humans, the Helenes, that proved the Thorn’s downfall. They betrayed the Thorns at a crucial moment in battle and allowed the Six to deal a decisive blow against the king. Atreus' second son was killed and his relatives were forced to flee to their ancestral home of Undergrowth.

The era of the Ebon Lords that had begun in the Age of Memory and spanned throughout the entirety of the Nexus Age had come to an abrupt end during the early years of the Schism.

In exchange for their betrayal, the Helenes were awarded a Ruling Seat in the new era of Hollow Shade, and the Six became the Seven Ruling Families. The true Rose Throne was ripped off the dais and taken out of the High Chamber. 

The half-ring table would stay, but the chairs would not. The Seven each fashioned a new chair for themselves, with small details carved into the wood, each carrying details of their House’s heraldry.

“...and to this day, the Seven Ruling Families’ chairs reside in the High Chamber right behind those doors.” The old historian gestured to the massive double doors of steel that stood imposingly at the end of the hall.

“Whatever happened to the Rose Throne?” Stryg asked.

“The Thorn family would replicate the Rose Throne in their castle, deep in the heart of Undergrowth. As for the original? I believe it was taken by the Goldelms. Legend has it, they stashed it away in their treasure vaults. But you might know better about that than I.”

“Would I?” 

The old man nodded. “The Veres and Goldelm’s friendship dates back a thousand years, to the inception of their families. Well, the Goldelm’s were technically a relatively young minor House at the time, but you understand my point. I’m sure Lady Goldelm could enlighten you on the validity of her family’s history.”

Stryg made a mental note to ask Freya about the throne later. “Thank you for the tour, Lord Archivist.”

“It was my honor, my lord. It has been a long time since someone of your station has taken an interest in these old walls and the chamber it bears.” The old man spoke with genuine mirth and he bowed as low as his back would allow him.

“Might I bother you with one more question?” Stryg asked.

“Of course, my lord. I will answer to the best of my ability.”

“If one wanted to, could they change a chair in the High Chamber?”

“Change it? The Seven Seats are practically relics. Ancient parts of our city’s history. More importantly, they are physical representations of the power of the Seven Ruling Families. No one would dare even touch one of the chairs, save for the servants who clean and the lords and ladies who sit upon them.”

“What if I wanted to change a seat? My own, for example.”

“Well, you are the Lord of House Veres. If you replaced your chair or had changes made to it, I suppose no one would voice their objections, even if some archivists find it inappropriate. Of course, trying to do anything to the seats of the other seven would be an assault on their power and practically an open declaration of war.”

“Good to know.” Stryg made another mental note to not touch any of the other chairs in the High Chamber.

“My lord, the Lunar Elects have arrived,” Gale whispered into his ear. 

Stryg almost jumped at her voice. Even for his sharp ears, her footsteps were as silent as they were light. His Shadow was never far away from him these days. It was commonplace for a Veres and his Shadow, but Stryg had been a Veres for only a few months, and he was still getting used to having someone following him.

“Thank you for the lesson, Lord Archivist. It was most enlightening.” Stryg bowed his head.

The old man froze at the sight of Stryg’s bow. No lord of Stryg’s position would grace him with a bow, even if he was the head archivist. The powerful did not notice the small and weak. “The honor truly was mine, my lord,” he whispered and bowed in return. He held the bow long after Stryg left.

~~~

The rest of the Seven Lords and Ladies of Hollow Shade were already in their seats around the half-ring table. Freya gave him the least subtle cocked eyebrow. Stryg ignored her look, and walked past the massive iron doors and into the High Chamber. Gale followed behind.

Gale pulled out the black chair for him, and Stryg studied the chiseled skulls and the rubies engraved in the wood before he took a seat. The Goldelm seat was to his right and the Noir seat to his left.

It was customary for the Seven to bring two retainers, who served as their bodyguards and advisors, with them into the High Chamber. Stryg wondered where Gian had gone. He was supposed to have met Gale and him inside the chamber.

As for the others, Stryg noticed Freya’s brothers behind her. Cedric stood to her left, hand hanging loosely on the handle of his hammer. Aric sat in his wheelchair to her right, hands clasped on his lap. He looked better than the last time Stryg had seen him. Una Noir stood behind Loh and to Stryg’s surprise, so did Lily. Elzri’s assistant had grown closer to Loh than Stryg thought.

Lady Calantha Ashe spared Stryg a glance, then continued leading the talks as Vayu and Loh voiced their opinions on one matter or another.

Freya leaned over to stryg and whispered, “What took you so long?”

“I was taking a tour of the building,” he replied.

“What?” Freya gave him an odd look. “The meeting has already been going on for half an hour.”

“And it’s been nothing but talks about the price of rebuilding, I’m guessing. That’s all the last few meetings have been about. How much gold this is gonna take? How much gold that is gonna take, and so forth, and so forth,” he grumbled.

“Well, yeah. Buildings and merchandise cost money, Stryg. If you recall, there was a little thing called a war that destroyed lots of it a few weeks ago.”

“We are the wealthiest Great City in all the Ebon Realm. We can afford to fix all of it. Why even bother with these talks?”

“You really don’t care how much we end up spending?”

“Why should I?” Stryg asked.

Gale cracked a small smile at his question, but hid it well.

Freya shook her head. “I remember back in the academy when Callum told me you didn’t care whatsoever for coin or how much of it any of us had. I thought he was kidding.”

“It’s all just soft metal. Gold breaks with little more than a snap of the finger.” Stryg shrugged. Why everyone outside of Vulture Woods was obsessed with gold, he would never understand.

“I wish everything were as simple as you see it,” Freya sighed. “Every noble is claiming to have lost more than they have in hopes the council grants them more gold. Meanwhile, we still haven’t finished rebuilding the Commoner District, which has only been made more difficult because of the Sylvan armies residing in half the district.”

“Lady Freya is right,” Calantha Ashe said. Clearly, the vampiress had been listening.

Freya sat up in her chair. “Pardon the interruption, High Priestess.”

“My, you are far more polite than your father,” Calantha noted. “I suppose only Krall and I would recall. Everyone else here is rather quite new to the High Chamber.”

Krall was unusually quiet, his expression dark, distant. He didn’t seem to even register Calantha’s words. Evelyn and his son, Niko, sat behind him. Neither of them seemed particularly interested in the topic at hand, either.

Calantha turned from the orcs and addressed the council as a whole. “I believe we can move away from redundant monetary conversations for now, don’t you all agree?”

“I do,” Loh said, relieved.

“What do you have in mind, Lady Ashe?” Vayu asked.

“As Lady Freya so aptly put it, the Commoner District is still in ruins after the siege. The Sylvan armies deny our soldiers and mages access to their side of the district, making it impossible to continue reconstruction. Even worse, the Sylvan’s leader, the Lunar Elects, has refused any sort of meeting with our emissaries.” Calantha looked at Stryg, “You informed me your connections with the Sylvans could open communication between our people. But as of yet, we have heard nothing of the sort.”

Stryg smiled, “Not to worry. I am told the Lunar Elects arrived a few moments ago.”

“What? Here? In the building?” Calantha rose to her feet.

Vayu followed suit and his drow guards grabbed the hilts of their swords. Tristan Helene looked at his caretaker, worried. She placed a reassuring hand on his little shoulder as their bodyguard stepped between them and the doors. Even Loh and Freya looked surprised. But it was the Katags whose expressions darkened.

As if on cue, the giant doors slid open slowly on silent hinges. The chamber’s herald walked in and spoke in a crisp, clear voice. “The Lunar Elects of Evenfall request permission to enter the High Chamber.”

“Permission granted,” Calantha replied, her scarlet eyes on edge.

The herald nodded. “Announcing the Eyes of the Watcher, the Shaman Elect, Lady Lumi, Daughter of Frost Whisper.”

Lumi strutted into the High Chamber, head held high, yellow eyes sharp and filled with judgment. She wore the blue silk cloak of her position and it rippled with the currents of unseen mana with each step she took.

“The Hands of the Watcher, the Warrior Elect, Lord Lykos, Son of Storm Howler.” Lykos walked in halfway through the herald’s announcement. Instead of his usual ceremonial garments, he wore his battle armor and carried his ax in his hand. He stepped up next to Lumi and glowered at the council, daring any of them to make a move. His eyes settled on Krall’s and he noticed the burning anger within the orc’s eyes. Lykos smiled at the challenge.

Calantha spotted the rising tension in the room and cleared her throat. “We welcome both of you into our High Chamber. I am Lady Calantha of House Ashe, High Priestess of Hollow Shade and de facto leader of this council. Thank you for accepting our invitation. I hope that our meeting today will be a pleasant one—”

“Standing in place of the Voice of the Watcher, the Mother Elect, Lady Sabina, Daughter of Elder Bloom,” the herald suddenly stepped aside and went down one knee, head bowed, much to the council’s surprise. “I give you Lunae’s Favoured, First Mother of the Blood Fang, Daughter of Nalindra, the First Ebon Lord of our era, Lady Aurelia the Blooded of the Great House of Veres. Accompanied by her Shield and personal Shadow, the legendary Sword Paragon of the Realm, Lord Gian of the Great House of Gale.”

Gian followed close behind Aurelia as she strode into the room, each step purposeful, her gaze strong, unbothered. She wore the iconic black cloak of House Veres, the inner side of the cloak a bright scarlet, with a golden clasp in the shape of the Veres skull. Her locks had shed their black dye, regaining their natural white sheen, and her hair was styled in the elegant fashion of nobility.

The scarlet laurel wreath she usually wore sat atop her brow, but where once it signified a First mother, now it seemed more like a crown upon the head of the realm’s most powerful archmage.

“Mom?” Stryg mumbled, wide-eyed.

Chapter 653: Comfortable Silence

A servant of House Azol quietly entered the parlor and placed a tray of hot tea on the table, bowed to Nora, and left. Nora grabbed a cup and handed it to Kithina, “Here, I guarantee you’ll like it.”

Kithina sipped the cup with a tentative expression. “...It’s good.”

Nora smiled. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Thank you… not just for the tea. For everything.”

“That’s what friends are for. I’ll always be here to listen, Kitty, whenever you need me. But— If I may?”

“What?”

“Your story, there is one part I disagree with. It wasn’t your fault, Kitty.”

She shook her head, her fiery hair rippling over her face. “You’re wrong, it was my fault. If I hadn’t gone with Lysaila, then I would have been here. I would have protected my family when the barbarians came.”

“Maybe. As someone who questioned countless times what could have been had I just stayed at Widow’s Crag with Clypeus and Stryg, trust me when I say, there is no way you could know what would have happened had you stayed. That sort of thought process will only lead you to madness.”

“Maybe I deserve it… They’re dead and I’m still here. Drinking tea,” Kithina chuckled bittersweetly. “I’m a failure.”

“I know you’re looking for someone to blame and the fact that you blame yourself more than anyone else shows how good of a person you are. It wasn’t your fault, Kitty.”

“But it was. It is my fault. I could have protected them.”

“Many mages fought against Marek’s armies and died. We don’t know if you would have fared any better. But I will tell you what we do know.”

Kithina glanced at her, curious.

Nora leaned back on her chair as she gently rocked a sleeping Kamilo in her arms. “I’ll tell you the same answer I found when I looked into my son’s eyes one night; Just like Stryg and Clypeus at Widow’s Crag, you saved people, Kitty.”

“I didn’t save anyone, I wasn’t even here.” Kithina frowned.

“Exactly, you weren't here. You chose to accompany Lysaila. And because you did, when Callum came to your door, he begged you to let him join. If Callum hadn’t come along, when Lysaila had caught the Ebon Order agent, neither you nor Lysaila would have recognized the agent for what she was. Callum would have never given the agent the message to alert Bellum. Your mission at the isle would have failed. The dragonbane would have gone through the chrome gate and countless lives would have been doomed across the other Null Realms.”

Nora looked Kithina in the eyes. “But it didn’t. Because you, Kitty, chose to help a friend in need, because you’re a good person. You’re not a failure. You’re a hero and thousands of people across the world will get to live out their lives thanks to you. They’ll never know it, but they’re alive because one dwarf girl chose not to abandon her friend.”

Kithina sniffed and wiped the tears in the corner of her eyes. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

Kamilo yawned, stretched his little arms, and scrunched his face.

“I’ve got to get this little guy to his crib. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want. I’ll have the servants prepare a room for you. Dinner should be ready soon,” Nora said.

“Thank you. I think I’ll stay here for a little bit, if you don’t mind?” Kithina turned to the large open window and the gardens beyond.

“Not at all. Take your time.” Nora carried Kamilo out of the room.

~~~

A knock thumped three times on the Azol manor front door and a servant soon opened it. “Ah, Lord Callum, good evening. How may I help you?”

“Is she here? Is Kithina here?” Callum asked, breathless.

The servant led Callum down a hallway and out back into the gardens. It was a minor affair compared to the massive curated gardens that stood as a bridge between the Gale and Veres manors. But there was a comfort in the small things. Callum found Kithina sitting on a stone bench, staring at the small pond at the center of the garden.

“Thank you,” Callum whispered to the servant. She bowed and left without a word.

With quiet steps, Callum walked over to Kithina. The grass brushed across his feet and the faint noise seemed loud in the quietness of the garden. Kithina glanced up and her eyes widened slightly in surprise. “Cal?”

“Hey, Kitty.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Mind if I sit?”

After a moment of indecision, she scooted across the bench. He shifted his cloak aside and sat down next to her. Kithina looked at him curiously, waiting for him to say something. But he didn’t. Callum simply sat with her, watching the fish in the pond. After a while, Kithina shifted her gaze and watched the fish as well. 

Though neither would admit it, they both felt alone in a merciless realm that had taken so much from them. Yet for that brief spell of a moment, in a garden tucked away in the corner of the city, they sat together, comfortable in their own shared silence.

~~~

Stryg dragged his feet in the cold makeshift throne room Lunae had taken up in an abandoned temple. There was a proper temple, a grand temple dedicated to her name, situated in the Central District, right next to the other three temples of the ebon gods. 

The grand temple acolytes would have been ecstatic to welcome her; in fact, many had already come by after hearing rumors of Lunae dwelling in the Commoner District. Or rather, they had tried. The Sylvan warriors and shamans guarding the abandoned temple had turned the acolytes away multiple times. Stryg briefly wondered if one day they would succeed; perhaps Lunae would show mercy upon her Hollow Shade priests.

“Stryg,” Lunae said icily.

Or perhaps not.

“Hello, Mother Moon. You called for me?” Stryg tried his best to appear innocent.

Lunae lounged across her throne of frost, shards of ice protruding in a wide circle at the base. Frost-mist filled the throne room and Stryg could barely see anything, save for the throne and Lunae. “What have you been up to, Little One?”

“You mean besides trying to stop your pet sabertooth from murdering my lover and her family?”

“I apologize for that mishap. Arden was there only for the Morrigans. He went too far and he is being punished accordingly.” Lunae waved her hand and the mist parted enough for Stryg to spot Arden in the corner, trapped in a block of ice, save for his face. His eyes were closed in meditation, but the discomfort in his expression was clear. With another wave of her hand, the mist coalesced back into the air, and Arden disappeared from sight.

“I thought you’d kill him,” Stryg muttered.

“He is still the Guardian of the Sylvan. His life has value to our people. Arden will not make the same mistakes as he did today.”

“If he does, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Eager to protect the Morrigans, are we?”

“I don’t care about the Morrigans. Tauri on the other hand, I’d gladly kill for.”

“Your loyalty to Tauri is lovely, but,” she let the final word hang in the air. “You care nothing for the Morrigans?”

“Why would I?” Stryg tried to keep his voice steady and shifted his feet.

“Where did you go after Arden fled the Katag manor?”

“I stayed with Tauri. Arden left her bleeding out.”

“Of course, again, you have my apologies for that. Did you go anywhere else afterwards?”

“Not that I can recall.”

Lunae narrowed her eyes, “Is that so?” The giant icicles around her throne grew a hand’s width. “You didn’t perhaps speak with a Morrigan?”

“Nope, not at all,” he said a little too quickly.

“Really?” She rapped her fingers on the ice. “It’s strange. You claim not to care for the Morrigans. Yet you make a deal with one of them.”

Stryg winced. “Deal? Oh, you mean, Beatrix. Technically, she is a dai-Morrigan, so she is not a Morrigan.”

Lunae gave him a flat stare. “Your excuses are flimsy as ever. You were never a good liar, Stryg. Best to stick with your blunt honesty.”

“In that case, I think I made the right decision with Beatrix.”

“By telling her your true nature? You don’t think that could lead to problems for you in the future?”

“No. I trust Beatrix—”

“You trust a Morrigan!?” Lunae growled and the room’s temperature dropped so much that even Stryg began to shiver.

“I trust Beatrix to value her own life. She won’t spill my secrets. In any case, I needed her help.”

“To rescue Lucas Katag?”

“If you were watching the whole thing, why even bother asking me?”

“I forbid you from going to Murkton.”

“What? You can’t—”

“I have spoken. I will not have you walking into a trap when Beatrix ousts you to her father as soon as you walk into Murkton.” 

“She won’t.”

“You don’t know that for certain. Send someone else to rescue the Katag.”

“Beatrix made the deal with me. I don’t know if she’ll honor that deal if I am not there,” he admitted.

“I suggest you figure out a way that she does. I will not have you walk into the den of our enemy, vulnerable, and unprepared.”

“And if I can’t?”

“Then the Morrigans are as disloyal and heartless as I knew them to be.”

“Why must you hate all the Morrigans? I understand the reason for war, but Beatrix knew nothing about Murkton’s plan of attack.”

“It does not matter. Her bloodline murdered thousands of innocents. Her House was doomed long ago.”

“What about House Veres? Stryga was the Bane of Lunis. Why should my bloodline be spared?”

“Your situation is different.”

“How?”

“Your mother. She chose to make amends for your bloodline. Aurelia became my acolyte and dedicated her entire life to that endeavour. Although she has made mistakes, I have recognized her sincerity. The Blue Rose was much the same, as much as I hate to admit it.”

“Then why can’t the Morrigans be the same? Why not give them a chance?”

“Because in 300 years, none of them have shown remorse for what was done to the sons and daughters of Lunis.”

“You can’t know that for certain.”

“If any of them were truly remorseful, they would have searched out the Sylvan Tribes to make amends long ago, but not one soul did. The time for chances is over. War will come to Murkton and this time you will stay here.”

“I made a promise to Tauri to save her brother. I am going,” Stryg said defiantly.

“You will not.”

“What will you do? Freeze me in a block of ice, too?”

“I WILL NOT LOSE YOU!” Lunae slammed her fist into the icy throne and her voice reverberated across the chamber.

Stryg stumbled back a step, eyes wide. Lunae’s expression broke at the sight of Stryg’s fear. Her silver eyes softened. She stepped off the throne and made her way to him. Lunae brushed her fingers over his cheek. “I cannot lose you, Little One. I have let you risk your life time and time again, because I respected your choice. But after what happened with Queen Ananta. I— I am afraid of what might happen to you. I will not risk your life, not over something so trivial. Send someone else to rescue Lucas Katag. Please, just this once, listen to me.”

Whatever argument he had on his mind died when he saw the fear in her eyes. “...Okay,” Stryg whispered.

“Thank you, Little One.” She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “Now, for the reason I called you here.”

“This wasn’t the reason?”

“No, this was you doing things you're not supposed to, as per usual.”

“So, why did you call me?”

“It is time we pay a visit to this city’s council. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Veres?” Lunae smirked.

Chapter 652: Morrigan Interrogation

“Meet Gale VIII, my Shadow, and the person I trust the most in this world. She also doesn’t trust you, don’t take it personally,” said Stryg.

“Ah, the legendary Shield of Veres. I should have guessed,” Beatrix said flatly.

“Alright, now tell me about your father.”

“I still have more questions.”

“You get one, then it’s my turn,” Stryg replied impatiently.

“What is that strange energy lurking in your body?” Beatrix pointed at his chest.

“Strange energy?”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t know. I can see it lurking in your heart right now.”

“Right, you’re a True Blue, I had almost forgotten.”

That comment stung more than Beatrix wanted to let on. She had replayed their battle countless times over the last few months, whereas he hardly remembered who she was.

“Answer my question.” Beatrix clenched her jaw.

“It’s chaos mana.”

“Chaos…? That’s not possible.”

“Well, I’m standing right here, aren’t I? You tell me, Miss Blue.”

“Even if you were part-elemental, no one can possess chaos. The 11th element is unstable, it does not bond with living beings, and it particularly rejects chromatic mana. A prime mage like you would be long dead.”

“I guess I’m different.” Stryg shrugged. He wasn’t inclined to share his true nature with someone he hardly knew.

“No, I’ve seen the chaos mana flowing through Shadow Lake’s waters. This is different. Your energy is— more controlled. The color variation isn’t the same either.”

“Well, chaos is different for each person among my kind. I imagine it would look different to your eyes.”

“Your kind?” Beatrix gave him a strange look.

Stryg winced. He had said too much. “That’s another question. It’s my turn to ask.”

“...Ask away.”

“Your father, Lord Corvus Morrigan. If we were to let you go back to Murkton, could you convince him to stop this war?”

“What war? Your assassin attacked us.”

“He isn’t my assassin.”

“He’s a Sylvan goblin, isn’t he?”

“I mean, yes, but—”

“My uncle, our city’s emissary, is dead because of a Sylvan assassin. It doesn’t matter what you claim. Murkton will see his death as an act of war from you.”

Stryg sighed. “It doesn’t matter. Your father was already going to war with us.”

“My father wasn’t interested in war, you idiot. Why do you think he sent my uncle here as an emissary?”

“Disrespect my lord again and I’ll reopen that wound of yours,” Gale interrupted.

Beatrix had almost forgotten the vampire was in the room. “Thanks for the warning, at least this time I’ll have a heads up before I’m stabbed.”

Stryg stared at Beatrix. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” Beatrix glowered.

“Your father is preparing for war against the Sylvan Tribes. He plans to march his armies into Vulture Woods soon.”

“What…? Why would he—? Unless… The Sylvan armies. He plans to strike first,” Beatrix muttered to herself.

“So you believe me?” Stryg asked.

“My father is many things. Ruthless is chief among them. If he believes he can end a potential threat, he’ll do it without remorse, no matter who else suffers.” Beatrix scoffed, “That’s why he sent us here. To keep Hollow Shade occupied until he could make us move.”

“My question still stands. If we were to let you go back to Murkton, could you convince your father to stop this war?”

“No.” She laughed bitterly.

“How can you be so sure?”

“For the same reason, he never told me of his plans for war. I am a dai-Morrigan. A bastard.”

Stryg glanced at Gale for more information.

Beatrix answered instead. “It means I have little value in my father’s eyes. Even if I were his heir, like Gilgard, Father would still not listen. My father did not become the War Lord of Murkton by bending to others’ wills. He did it by slaying his uncle in a duel. Family ties mean little to him, especially that of a bastard.”

“So she’s useless to us,” Gale noted.

“No, we still need a guide to find Lucas Katag and get him out of Murkton.”

“You want to send her?” Gale frowned. 

“Beatrix must know the Morrigan’s palace inside and out. Who better to help us find Lucas?”

“Even if Beatrix does help us, who is to say she won’t just turn around and betray us to her father?”

“Your pet vampire is right. Why would I do anything for you?” Beatrix asked.

Stryg shrugged. “Because if you help me, I will tell you everything I know about chaos and my kind.”

“Your goblin kin?” 

“No, not my goblin kin.”

“...How do I know I can trust you?”

“I could ask the same about you.”

Beatrix crossed her arms. “Then it seems we’re at an impasse.” 

Stryg closed his eyes and took a deep breath. As he inhaled, the room grew cold and the blue magestone lanterns flickered. He opened his eyes and they were alight with an inner lilac glow. “How about this? You and I make a deal,” his voice had a vibrating ring to it, almost as if it were echoing in the room.

“A deal?” Beatrix asked skeptically.

“Stryyyg, what are you doing?” Gale asked.

“Beatrix dai-Morrigan, I will tell you everything I know about chaos and my nature, but you can never tell another soul about what you learn. In return, you will help guide a team of my choosing through Murkton to help find Lucas Katag and escort them out of the city. You will not betray them in this endeavour, nor will you divulge any information you have learned about the impending war to your father or anyone else, for that matter. Are the terms acceptable?”

“What if you don’t hold your end of the deal?” Beatrix asked.

“I will fulfill my end of the bargain as soon as the deal is struck. No need to wait.”

“Everything?”

He nodded.

“How can you be sure I won’t betray you?”

“If you do… There will be consequences.”

“What consequences?” She narrowed her eyes.

“The kind you cannot escape. So,” Stryg offered her his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Beatrix stared at the clawed blue fingers hovering in front of her. There was something very unnerving about the way those lilac eyes glowed, the sharp pupils as thin as slits. There had been a heaviness to Stryg’s words, as if it was being engraved into the very air and this moment for all time. Her instincts told her not to accept, but her curiosity had been eating at her ever since that fateful day in Undergrowth. She had to know Stryg’s secrets, and something told her that if she didn’t accept right now, she would never know.

Beatrix raised her hand and clasped his hand. “Very well, I accept.”

“Then we have a deal.”

The air in the room was electric with power as Stryg spoke; it enclosed around both of them, pressure building until Beatrix couldn’t breathe, then it was gone. The world returned to normal, but something felt different in Beatrix that she couldn’t quite place. She ripped her hand away and scurried back in bed.

“What did you do to me?” Beatrix asked, bewildered.

“Honestly? I’m still trying to figure this all out myself. It just felt right.” Stryg stared at his hand.

“You’re acting like the Monster in the Dark,” Gale muttered.

“I’m not anything like her.” Stryg whirled around.

“Really?” Gale cocked an eyebrow. “I’m pretty certain you just made a deal with a mortal that she cannot escape. Do you not remember what happened to the Blackveins? You damned them, quite literally. And now you might have just done the same to another mortal.”

“It’s different,” Stryg said.

“Damned them? What do you mean ‘another mortal’? And what is the Monster in the Dark?” Beatrix asked, confused.

“How is this any different, Stryg?” Gale threw her hands up.

“For starters, I don’t feel drained,” Stryg spoke slowly. “Tired, sure, but I’m not about to fall over. I didn’t have to force my will on her fate. She bound it to me on her own. Besides, nothing will happen if she keeps her end of the bargain.” He wasn’t sure how he knew his words were right, but he knew they were.

“That doesn’t make it any better, Stryg,” Gale said.

“Hey, can someone listen to me!? What the fuck is going on!?” Beatrix yelled.

Stryg and Gale looked at her.

“Lesson number one. Never make a deal with a god,” Gale said.

 “What…?” Beatrix whispered.

“I guess I should make good on my end of the bargain. Where to begin…?” Stryg murmured.

~~~

“Ba-ba!” Kamilo cried at the injustice as his little, pudgy hands reached for the spoonful of blood.

“No, only a little at a time. Stop it, you’re gonna get blood all over you,” Nora admonished him as she held him on her lap.

Despite the aching hole in Kithina’s chest, she found herself cracking a small smile at the infant. “He’s adorable.”

“Try saying that when his fangs tear through your skin,” Nora said dryly.

“What? No, really?” Kithina’s eyes went wide.

“Those little suckers came out after 3 months,” Nora gestured to the two small fangs poking out of Kamilo’s mouth. “Turns out baby vampires, even half-vampires, need blood. They bite into your skin until they draw blood while you breastfeed them.”

“That sounds awful.”

“Thankfully, the Gales have sent a white mage to stay with us and heal me after every feeding. However, I have since grown wise and have some blood prepared beforehand.” Nora held up a small bottle full of red liquid. “Doesn’t stop him from biting me, though.”

“How often does he need blood?”

“Too often. But enough about me and my little monster. How have you been?”

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I hope I’m not intruding. I just didn’t know where to go.” She bowed her head.

“Nonsense. We’re friends, Kitty. I’m happy you’re here, truly. I was worried about you. I know you left the city before the siege, but still.”

“You knew?”

“Elise Veres personally came by and asked me a few questions about you and Callum. She was respectful, even nice, but I knew something was off. I’m glad to see you’re alright.”

Kithina’s expression broke and her eyes watered.

Nora sat up, reached over the table, and grabbed Kithina’s hand. “Oh, Kitty. What happened?”

Even Kamilo stopped his cries and stared up at her with large purple eyes.

“I lost them, Nora. I lost all of them. My mother, father, brother… They’re all gone,” she whimpered.

Kamilo’s bottom lip trembled, and he began to cry at the sight of Kithina’s tears. Nora stood and embraced Kithina as she sobbed into her friend’s arms. Kamilo sat between them, crying in solidarity.