Chapter Text
It is daunting to look at the camp of soldiers. I don’t fear them by any means- quite the opposite, I’m glad to see them- but as I look over them I feel realisation. I knew before that of course some of them would die, we are going to war after all. But it feels different to see them in the camp. You know they laugh, they cry, that they are also alive.
But it feels different to see them so close up knowing I’ll remember them when they’re dead or when the war leaves them a shell. I find it strange to experience. All of them are willing or they would not be at this camp. But the strangeness does not go away and if I do not lose my mind to this curse, neither will their memories.
One of my soldiers has even given me a symbol of Iomedae to tie to my belt for luck. He had the look of a pious man, but I cannot deny being touched by the gesture. Tied the symbol to Finnean with some twine but he didn’t complain. He seemed to find it funny.
I found myself arranging my things last night. Everything I own fits into a bag. Nothing of much value beyond my coin and the kit I use to care for my box lute. A handful of neat baubles. A spare change of clothes, old but usable. The books Nurah loaned me would get packed with the tent and I’d have ration supplies like the others. So perhaps it is understandable that the one thing I did not expect to find in my bag was another severed head.
My whole tent was so cold that I felt the very hairs on my neck rising. I was alone. Nobody else was inside. There were no strange footprints, no tears in the tent’s fabric, no sign someone snuck in. But does that mean anything in a camp this big? Even with all the time we talked inside the tent- it would leave little time for someone to sneak in.
Daeran’s party had a killer, Camilla I found standing by a maimed body. Her mansion had torture devices of all kinds as well. Daeran’s party killer might be in the camp, perhaps. Or Camilla? But how, I don’t know. The head is severed so neatly and there’s no signs of anything strange beyond the obvious.
The head isn’t rotting, severed as neatly as unnaturally possible, and there’s no blood to drain from it. There’s nothing inside the mouth, the clouded eyes are just that, and I can find nothing else from them on my own. None of my magic deals with the dead and I have only made dead bodies, not studied them extensively.
The heads themselves are a message, surely. Buf if Daeran’s party killer isn’t at the camp and it is not Camilla then I don’t know. It would then be limited to the Defender’s Heart Inn- but who among those would do this? It would be in poor form to accuse Camilla of murder with no evidence. But Daeran might know who among his party guests are in the camp. And even if he does not, I still have a chance at answers.
The necromancer who interrupted the funeral of Sosiel’s friends is still in my camp. Perhaps if I bring this head to him I will obtain answers. I cannot worry about a murderer leaving severed heads on top of the rest. There is too much to do. But even that must wait.
The fifth crusade begins.
-Yunessa
Unexpectedly my first challenge as a commander came in the form of foul weather and dangerous foliage. The map says it is an easy trip to Drezen, scarcely two weeks. It should be easy to reach and siege while Queen Galfrey is out and doing as she said she would, reinforcing other cities around the Worldwound and handling the demons at its edges.
No matter how elite the army, how skilled they are- they all need supplies. Unless I cared to make a new road to Drezen our path was set. It’s not like all of our carts and supplies can make it on uneven terrain in the Worldwound. So we set out, moving as fast as our slowest man. I cannot explain why it seems like the best idea to me.
But my friends and advisor agreed with me. So we move as quickly as we can, leaving none of us behind. With no siege materials we will have difficulty taking Drezen. With no supplies, we will starve.
So it was, one the afternoon of the first day we encountered the putrescent skies above the first riverbank we crossed. The clouds spilled across the sky, spreading their rotting colours as far as we could see. It was either wait it out or move forward.
I decided no matter the weather, we had to keep moving. Pus rain, corpse fogs- any of the things the soldiers whispered about mattered little. What mattered was how they saw me handle this phenomena. The first challenge they would see me undertake with their lives on the table so to speak.
For bards appearance matters- have you seen many bards who like wearing normal clothing? No, we all set ourselves apart. Because how we are perceived matters. If they perceived me as less now it would snowball into a problem, I was certain of that. Every tavern I’ve ever done poorly in was never warmly receptive to me. But every tavern I did well in would always receive me again.
As the clouds growled in complaint above, I decided I would lead us all through it- waiting it out was out of the question when we didn’t understand the weather in the Worldwound to start with. Avoiding it by walking around would potentially add weeks to the travel time. And as I’d heard from several people- caustic rain or acidic snow were among the milder things in the Worldwound’s weather patterns.
I had no time once I had decided I’d lead the army through- because then the clouds roared in the sky, tornadoes coming from the putrescent clouds like tentacles. They came from all sides- front, back, left and right- howling like banshees.
I ducked low, telling them to follow me. I heard the order being repeated as they closed ranks, moving faster to keep up with me. A howling tornado came down on me from above, and windy hands raked through my hair, stealing my hat and whipping my hair like a pennant. It lacked the strength to pull me into the sky and I tore away from it to keep running.
They kept close to me, following my example as it became a gauntlet. Tornados would reach down as if the Worldwound’s sky desired to pluck us up and toss us like toys. But our closed ranks and the speed with which we moved prevented the cloud’s tornados from being able to grab us. Nenio later said something about momentum, but in the moment, running the gauntlet, as the wind raked its hands through my hair and tugged at my clothes I felt alive.
Not afraid like the first time I died. Oh, the worry was there, the fear that I would do this poorly. But when it occurred to me that this was another stage. Not like my usual campside or tavern performances, it felt like the worst slipped away.
The struggle lasted over half an hour, hats were lost, bags torn away, and a single banner torn away before the clouds abruptly subsided, the howling wind dying so abruptly it was like it never occurred.
The putrescent clouds dispersed like they never were. The weather had returned to the sharp chill of autumn, the sky a clear blue. We ended up having more trouble getting our supplies through a large river later that day.
Maybe I could manage this.
The Sellen river by the Worldwound was as tainted as everything else. The river was wide, the waters sluggish and still. It looked like an ordinary river, it even had plants bordering the edges. But when we crossed it it became evident that the river was deceptively normal. It burned the skin like lye. At the edge of the bank green wildgrasses had cut through the leather in my boots. Something I only noticed when stepping near the banks and some of the river water began to burn my skin. I shook it off the pain as if it was a minor annoyance and continued on but the skin was a raw angry red when I took the boot off.
On that thought, I need worldwound-proofed boots, I will requisition some from Wilcer as soon as I find the quartermaster. But first, I’ll tend to it myself. I don’t want to handle an infected wound this early on in the Crusade.
“Aron, have you seen Sosiel?” Yunessa asked as the stopped at the edges of Aron and Sosiel’s tent. “I needed something for a burn and thought he might have some salve.” That and his tent was the closest to Yunessa’s own. He’d made good on staying near Yunessa as he’d promised.
“I haven’t seen Sosiel. Last I heard he was doing confession for the cultist we were bringing along with us.” He rose up from the makeshift workspace he had made on top of a decently sized rock and moved over to his bag. “But I have some you can take.”
“Sosiel doing confession for the cultist?” Yunessa repeated.”I thought he wouldn’t want to see him again.”
“I was just as surprised as you are.” Aron confessed. “It might not seem like it but he can have a temper. Admittedly someone has to really work to make him that angry but, well, the funeral…” He shrugged. His travelling bag was nearly empty and he turned it upside down to shake loose the remaining contents. “I thought he would just ignore him.” When the first aid kit fell out he beamed and offered it to Yunessa with a smile. “But he said doing more wrongs won't help him. More wrongs won’t make it right, he said.”
“He’s far too kind.” Aron smiled at Yunessa, nodding in agreement. Yunessa opened the first aid kit, searching for the silvery-grey burn salve. The kit was crammed full of supplies. A vial slid out of its pouch and Yunessa started, grabbing at the glass but they fumbled it and the vial shattered on the stone Aron had been using as a makeshift desk. “whor*sson.” They cursed watching the dark purple liquid ooze down the stone along with glass shards. “I’m sorry Aron.”
Aron stared at the liquid trailing down the stone, his pale skin turning sickly in colour as he stared at the broken vial. “Commander-” He broke off and took a slow breath. “That, that is-” He looked stunned, unable to take his eyes from it.
Yunessa felt their face flush in embarrassment. “I’m sorry Aron.” They repeated, pulling out a scrap of cloth from their pocket, reaching down to clean it up. “Tell me what it is and I’ll find ingredients to replace it. Daeran tells me I have a salary now so however costly this is- I can buy a new one.” The remaining liquid that hadn’t sunk into the dirt was trailing sluggishly down the side. Yunessa made to wipe it off. “I’ll at least make sure the smell doesn’t bother-”
Aron’s hand lashed out, grabbing their wrist. Yunessa dropped the cloth and it fluttered to the ground, the grey cloth stained a dark purple. “No!” he said quickly. “It’s ah. It’s damaging to the skin, Commander. You shouldn’t touch it.”
“Why was it in the first aid kit then?” Yunessa asked, bewildered as Aron looked over their hand, using his sleeve to wipe at where their fingers might have touched it. “Aron?”
“It was a mistake! It-” He closed his eyes as the strong smell of the potion hit them both- a strange smell like powdered iron and violets. He guided Yunessa out of the tent, closing the doorway. “I’m sorry.” He said quietly. “ Did any of it get on you?”
“No.” Yunessa flexed their fingers at Aron. “See? All’s well.”
Aron exhaled slowly. “I’m glad. I’ll get Sosiel. Will you be at your tent?” At Yunessa’s nod, Aron turned. “I’ll go get him. Don’t wander too far Commander.
Yunessa had barely made their way back into their tent where their companions had gathered when Anevia’s scouts returned alongside Anevia and Irabeth. Bringing with them a desperate looking lad, trembling and soaking wet.
“Commander.” Anevia waved behind her to the lad between the scouts.”We found a suspicious lad on the road. He claims to be an ally and he’s desperate to talk to you.” A single gesture and the scouts on either side of the lad moved forward. “Who knows- I’ve brought him to you to decide.”
The lad straightened, his clothing torn and soaked like he’d swam through a river. His boots were barely hanging onto his feet, so torn up and slashed it was a miracle they even vaguely looked like boots. Blood oozed from wounds on the lad’s chest and shoulders, his skin raw and inflamed.
“Commander…” He breathed, straightening into a proper military pose before he slumped. He struggled to speak, his breathing as raw as his voice. “My squad-” he swallowed. “My squad… ambushed. Beyond the river! Help-” He choked as he tried to force more words out but they refused to leave his throat and a painful cough escaped his throat.
“Give the man some water and something for his wounds.” Yunessa had to resist the urge to turn and reach into their bags. But the scout next to the lad followed the order immediately and they all patiently waited as he chugged down the potion, taking swallows of water as the potion began to help his wounds heal at a rapid pace. He handed the water back to the scout, wiping his mouth before he snapped to attention, weary eyes becoming alert as the fog of exhaustion faded.
“Yaker Ankelle, Hellknight of the Order of the Godclaw, under the command of Paralictor Regil Derenge.” Yunessa watched their companions stiffen as Yaker continued. “Our squad is under attack by demons far surpassing our number. Without your assistance, we are lost.”
“Hellknights!” irabeth breathed. “They’ve supported the crusaders more than once in their battles against the demons. Despite their…” Irabeth cringed. “Questionable reputation, we should not abandon our allies in trouble.”
“If they really are our allies, then of course.” Anevia agreed. But her eyes looked over Yaker as if she was trying to read his mind. “It’s just…. Well Commander, I don’t think he’s a knight at all. A real Hellknight would have been skinned alive for losing his infamous black armour.” A slender finger pointed at Yaker. “No ranks, no insignia, not even a necklace to identify and confirm he is who he says he is. Seems like a trap- he wants us to march who knows where? To get the Commander and us killed more likely.”
Irabeth’s brow furrowed at Anevia’s words.
“Allright then Yaker. What is attacking the Hellknights and why can’t they handle them on their own?” If Yaker took offence at Yunessa’s question or Anevia’s words then it didn’t show as Yunessa studied him.
If anything Yaker stared straight ahead at Yunessa, keeping his posture rigid, arms behind his back as if he was at inspection. “They are large creatures attacking from the air Commander. Some are fighters, at a guess, with clerics of their own. They looked like stone come to life so I am almost certain they were gargoyles.” He did not move from his rigid pose, not even when Yunessa made sure to move. Yaker’s eyes just followed Yunessa as he talked, not budging. “They came upon us when we were setting up camp. Waiting for our most vulnerable moments no doubt. And they caught our forces at partial strength.”
Yaker took a breath and continued. “The flying beasts didn’t fight us nor did they come in to kill us. They fell upon us, grabbed our fighters and the ones that didn’t fall down we never saw again. We were unprepared.”
“What do you all think?” Yunessa asked. They had set aside a space for themself and their companions- originally to rest and discuss the crusade that night before they all went to rest- but now they all were gathered appropriately to discuss this new matter. “I haven’t met any Hellknights before so like Anevia said, Yaker could be a fake.”
“The Hellknights are heartless executioners.” Sosiel stated flatly. “Saving people from the claws of demons is a good cause in itself. But these people are doing everything they can to become just like the devils. Shelyn forgive me, But I don’t believe we should help them. We should leave the Hellknights to their fate, and continue our offensive on Drezen.”
Yunessa was surprised to hear Sosiel give a flat out rejection but they kept their eyes focused on Yaker. With some strength returned to him, the man had remained still, his face set as if he was watching a particularly dull play. After watching these crusaders I’m starting to get an idea of who’s a trained man and who isn’t. Rigid posture, a careful expression even when his possible order is being talked about poorly or when his request for aide could be rejected. “That doesn’t seem like something that you’re offer up normally Sosiel.” They began. “Are you saying we throw them under the cart when you’ve been trying to help the cultist we imprisoned?”
“Do you remember Prelate Hulrun?” Daeran began, his tone light as he watched Sosiel. “The man who wanted to hang your head and Ramien’s on a pike? Well, picture an entire army of soldiers just like that.” At Yunessa’s questioning glance he managed to offer a neutral shrug. “Do we need allies like that? If they die I shan’t shed a tear. Neither will our lovely cleric from Andoran.”
“I think it seems like a trap..” Lann trailed off, the human half of his face tugging into a deep frown. “But even if he isn’t lying- our goal is to get to Drezen. If the army is delayed then we won’t get another chance to retake the city.” Lann’s eyes moved between Yaker and Yunessa. “You can’t move the entire army everytime someone needs help along the way to Drezen.”
“Hellknights.” Seelah began reluctantly. “Well, with allies like them we don’t have a need for enemies. If it suited them, they’d abandon us to the demons without a second thought. But we’re not like them, are we? We have to help them!”
“We should help them.” Camilla said in agreement, her voice as sweet as honey. “But only if they join us in return. We could use them.” She paused, eyeing Yaker up and down. “Fresh blood will keep our crusade alive after all.”
“Hellknights keepin’ us alive? I hope not. Not for all the gold they have. Do you know what kind of people they are chief?” Woljif’s eyes moved between Yaker and Yunessa, histhoughts written on his face.
“I don’t know who these knights are either. But if they’re suffering out there then of course we should help.” Ember smiled serenely.
“No, we shouldn’t. Don’t you know who these guys are Ember? One minute you’re going about your business and the next you’re locked in the stocks and there’s a butcher in black armour in front of you.” Woljif looked down at Ember as if Ember had sprouted her own set of horns.
“We came here to help. Isn’t that what we should do?” Ember blinked at Woljif. Soot waited until Yunessa looked at the crow before its head bobbed and it let out a croak in support of Ember’s words.
“Thank you Soot.” Yunessa didn’t understand the familiar but it seemed to be trying to offer advice. Soot let out a low croak before going silent.
“I’ve never heard of knights like these!” Ulbrig said loudly before Woljif could respond to Ember and Soot. “The name sounds nasty though, they are probably ghouls or wargs. Possibly even a hybrid of the two. I’d stay away if I were you.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, the Sarkorian chieftain managed to seem as serious about those words as he did when speaking of other ‘fey and goblins’.
“Not entirely out of the realm of possibility, I suppose Ulbrig. Well.” Yunessa looked over to Nenio. “Everyone else has given an opinion Nenio- you might as well too.”
“Huh?” Nenio blinked owlishly at Yunessa as if her train of thought had been interrupted.”This has no scientific significance to me. But what’s interesting is how the river water, poisoned by the world wound, will affect the boy. With your permission I’d like to inspect his corpse in a few days.”
“Thereee we are. No. Denied Nenio.” Yunessa exhaled, turning their eyes to Yaker. The man met their eyes without flinching, waiting. He could be lying. But if he was then the cultists have a trained military man and a planned ambush off the beaten path? It’d be too much work to do that off the main road with no payout. There’s no cities on the map that aren’t ruins either. Their other companions talked but Yunessa paid them little mind. “Allright Yaker, we’ll help.”
Something in Yaker’s face relaxed at Yunessa’s words. “Thank you, Commander.” He breathed. “I can show where our forces are on a map. The situation is critical- please, let’s leave as soon as possible.”
Irabeth held out a map Anevia had given and Yaker immediately pointed at it. “Hmm. It’s not far, dangerous for a fighter but since you swam here by the river it was easier to travel. But we just moved our army across the river today. So going back…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing as her mind worked on the logistics of moving an entire army.
“Yaker, give us a bit.” Yunessa glanced at the man.
“I’ll wait for you Commander.” Yaker gave a crisp salute before he turned, leaving with the two that had escorted him. They watched until Yaker had gone out of earshot before Yunessa spoke.
“There’ll be no need to take the army.” Yunessa shook their head. “We can’t move everyone and expect to get there quickly.”
“What are you suggesting then?” Irabeth asked slowly.
“Me and some of my companions will go. If time is of the essence moving an entire army back over that caustic river again will be detrimental- to them and us. I’ll take a handful of my friends with me and the rest will remain and you guys will keep moving.” Seeing the expression on Irabeth’s face Yunessa added: “The army needs to keep moving and the Hallknights need help.”
“I did say that sometimes you would need to venture into the Worldwound with a group. I didn’t think it’d be less than a week into the crusade.” Irabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. “And for Hellknights at that.”
“If Yaker can run and swim here then we won’t be long.” Yunessa promised and Irabeth squinted down at Yunessa. “Go in. Kill some demons. Save a few Hellknights and then we’ll be back.”
-
“You said your name was Silence?” Yunessa watched the cultist. Compared to when they had seen him at the funeral for Sosiel’s friends he looked less like a bruised apple. He was chained to a hitching post, sitting atop re-purposed rubble. His green eyes watched Yunessa, his pale face looking as if the skin was stretched over the bones. Despite the dirt of the road and his chains, he sat with a calm air about him.
“Roan.” He said hoarsely. “I am Roan, Commander.” The manacles that held the necromancer kept him from running or performing his magic. The chains whispered as he turned to fully face Yunessa. “The manacles make it difficult to salute you. Do forgive my lapse in etiquette.”
“Roan then.” Yunessa nodded. “Don’t worry about the etiquette. I heard you were willing to redeem yourself from Sosiel, Roan. Is that true?” They watched the cultist carefully. “Because if you are then I’ll hold off your trial for a while.”
Roan canted his head curiously. “I said-” he cleared his throat, rubbing at his neck and Yuneessa caught sight of the heavy scarring beneath it. “I said I would perform what was needed as penance. I know what I did. There is no forgiveness to ask for.” His green eyes held no regret in them. No sorrow or cunning gleam. No desperation.“So tell me what you need of me and I shall do so to the best of my abilities.”
“Allright then Roan. I have a easy task to start you with.” They slid off their leather bag to offer it to the necromancer. “Take this.”
The chain between his manacles noisly protested as Roan took the bag without question, setting it in his lap.
“You’re accomplished enough to raise the dead and I heard before that you had some experience with the dead.” Anevia had told it to Yunessa, delivering her report quietly and with little fanfare, including the details Sosiel had been unaware of.
“I am skilled with what I do, yes.” Roan nodded in agreement with Yunessa’s words.”Once, I prepared them for their rest. Before all of this.”
“Open the bag then.” Yunessa gestured to it. “And then tell me what you think of what’s inside.”
He reached into the bag, pausing only for a second before he saw what was inside. He paused. Eyed the head. “A head, Commander?” he inquired, the rough rasp of his voice shifting from neutrality to curiosity.
“Yes, a head. I know it’s strangely well preserved and his cause of death was unnatural.” They didn’t need to state it for Roan was already turning the severed head in the bag to look at it.
“Not done by a normal weapon.” He muttered, moving his finger over the stump of the neck. Yunessa resisted a grimace and fought down the desire to puke as he touched the eyes, studying the severed head as if it was a puzzle.
“Don’t.” Yunessa began as he continued. “Studying a severed head in the open. Where everyone can see, is perhaps not ideal.”
“I forget myself Commander. Apologies.” The necromancer closed the bag, drawing the bag into his arms as easily as if he was holding a child. “What did you want done?”
“For a start, Anevia will be overseeing you.” Yunessa pointed a finger behind them. “If Anevia doesn’t like what you’re doing then she can kill you on the spot. If she says jump, I expect you to jump. If she says stop…” Yunessa trailed off.
“Stop. Yes. I understand.” Roan agreed easily.
“Good. I want you to find everything you can about the head. Anything at all, I want to know about it. You’ll get your mortuary tools and whatever Anevia deems necessary for you to have.” Yunessa watched Roan nod again. He didn’t look eager but there was a curiosity as if he enjoyed what he was potentially going to do. “If you’re honest about working for the crusade then this shouldn’t be a difficult task for you.”
“I understand. Yes. This- this I can do.” His eyes searched Yunessa’s face. “If there is anything to find then I shall learn of it. How much time do I have, Commander?”
“You have until I come to you again. I hope you’ll find something, Roan.” Before he could speak, Yunessa held up a finger. “I would hate to send a letter to your son in Absalom if you decide to return to your cultist activities rather than focus on oenance.”
Roan went rigid. “My-” He croaked. “My son has nothing to do with what I have done here Commander. Do not-” He broke off and the chains clinked as he started to rise. “I beg you, my son is innocent of his father’s crimes.” He didn’t drop the head, but he clasped his hands together tightly, the pale skin turning a sickly yellow. His hoarse voice, which had been alarmed, began to turn, the tone pleading.
“Stop Roan.” The necromancer’s calm was gone now. His wide green eyes staring at Yunessa as if the bard was a monster. Yunessa held up a hand. “If you focus on what you’re doing now then your son will never see a letter.”
“That- yes.” The necromancer’s shoulders sagged. “Thank you Commander.” Relief filled his words. “I will do whatever you require of me. Just please, please do not…” He trailed off, struggling to push the words past his scarred throat. “Not even if I die. Don’t send him anything.”
“Do your duty and he never will see a letter or your urn.” Yunessa agreed. “Prove that I was right to keep you alive.”
“Did he break?” Anevia asked, She leaned against a tent pole, watching the tent the necromancer had been escorted into.
“He did. Though how you knew he had a kid I’ve no idea Anevia.” Yunessa looked away from the tent to Anevia. She grinned in response to Yunessa’s look and held her hand up, the index finger and thumb forming a circle.
“Did you know a good accountant can find anything? He worked in Kenabres for a while with the mortuary folk. He tried to hide where he was sending money. He might have fooled the other cultists, but his son still shares his last name.”
“How did you find out he was in Absalom?” Yunessa asked, unable to stop themself. “Wouldn’t that take weeks to find and confirm that?”
“Normally. But we can still open a small- very small, mind you- portal for things like letters, if we have a skilled enough mage. It’s expensive but with the money you gave Beth for the crusade, we could afford to have someone follow the trail. Right to one of Absalom’s universities and there you have it.” Anevia held her hands out, bowing as Yunessa clapped.
“Would never have guessed. Does anything escape your eyes Anevia?” Anevia’s grin widened at Yunessa’s words.
“Don’t go too far. I’m still investigating him. He won’t talk about anything pre-kenabres. But I’ll find it out for you.” Anevia eyes Yunessa. “Beth said you decided to help out that guy?”
“Yaker? Yes. I’ve got a feeling he’s not a cultist and like Irabeth said- at some point I’ll be leaving Drezen and the army for whatever comes up that needs me to attend to it. While we’re slowly making our way there to Drezen is the best, ah, test to see how it goes.” Yunessa frowned. “Not that I’m not needed here. But you know how a feeling goes.”
As Yunessa gestured, Anevia nodded. “Prior Ramien preached about them. I get them when I’m working too. Just make sure to come back alive, alright? We won’t manage without you.”
“I’ll come back.” Yunessa promised. “What would you do without me?”
Anevia chuckled. “Still be stuck in a cave for one.”
“I once ordered three wheels of the most excellent blue cheese, but they delivered three hundred by mistake.” Daeran held his hand over his eyes, squinting up at the blinding sunlight. “I lived off the stuff for two weeks, but a man can only take so much mould.”
“I once lived off mould for two weeks. Just mould, mind you, no cheese.” Lann kept his face deadpan as Daeran’s eyes turned to him. “They didn’t deliver cheese belowground.” he said, as if it needed explanation.
“There’s nothing around here that looks like cheese. Where did that even come from?” Yunessa asked. High ridges, steep hills and a sharp chill to the air heralded the promise of winter’s arrival.
“Clouds can look like cheese.” Ember offered up. “I saw one that looked like a ship once but it blew away.”
Sosiel didn’t participate in the conversation as they made their way up the mountainous terrain. There was a subtle tension in his body that had been there since he tended Yunessa’s burn at their camp. Did the broken vial upset him as well?
Yunessa grimaced but pushed the thought away. “Well you aren’t wrong Ember.”
“You want to avoid walking under those trees Commander.” Yaker turned his head. “They're as tainted as everything else. Sap falls from the branches- when it touches the skin I’ve seen men hack their limbs off to stop the pain.” Yaker had refused more potions, speaking up when needed. The man’s eyes were focused and the more they walked, the more certain Yunessa felt their impulse to help had been right.
“I suppose it’s useless for burning to?” They kept their tone conversational.
Yaker nodded. “The smoke is poisonous- blinds you if it gets in your eyes, burns your nose and throat if you breathe it in. Most medical kits lacking potions don't seem to help much if either happens. Potions do- or a very good healer. But the latter is difficult to obtain and potions are worth their weight in gold in the Worldwound.”
“I see. I appreciate the information.” Yaker nodded crisply at Yunessa’s thanks, as if the thanks itself were just for conversational purposes. “How much farther is the paralictor?”
“If we keep our pace, very soon.” Was Yaker’s answer as the possibly-a-hellknight’s brow furrowed.
Very soon turned out to be accurate. From their spot on the mountain Yunessa could look down and see the camp. “Commander! Come quickly!” Yaker was tired once more but he was already moving.
White and yellow armour mingled with black armour. A tall man in priest’s robes gestured as he spoke but his voice was too loud. Loud enough Yunessa could hear his weary, fretting tone rise up the mountain to them,if not the words as the air carried it up to them.
“We need to move down.” Yaker said. “And get to the Paralictor.” His eyes moved over the rocky terrain, trying to pick the best route. “Try to move under the trees if they come for you. It forces them to abandon you or touch the ground.”
“Who’s the man in white talking to?” Yunessa asked.
“The paralictor.” Yaker replied immediately.
“The gnome?” Yunessa asked, catching a glimpse as the priest moved. Yaker nodded. “Alright then. Let’s get down there.” Yaker immediately began to move downhill, though the rocky terrain forced the group to take a disadvantageously slower route beneath the trees rather than a direct route. Yunessa kept an eye on the soldiers below as the screams of gargoyles began to come from above.
The gnome- Paralictor, Yunessa reminded themself- didn’t speak but instead turned his head. Around him every Hell Knight moved, their swords burying themselves in the bodies of the wounded before the gargoyles could descend close. The execution was so swift, so quickly done that the wounded didn’t have a chance to cry out before they were killed. “Did-”
“Commander! The paralictor will lead them to shelter. We need to go down this way if we want to make it to him! Hurry!” Yaker tugged at Yunessa’s jacket, not letting them have a moment to process what had occurred. It was for the better as a cloud of grey descended, bringing the smell of foetid winds and blood.
The gargoyles descended upon the camp, blocking any view of it.
“You heard Yaker! Go, go, go!” Yunessa shook their head and broke into a run. I’ll get answers when I get there. Slowing down in the Worldwound would mean death. And I don’t want to die again.
They had manoeuvred down the mountain as quickly as they could, Daeran even sparing a quick spell to give them added haste. But not quick enough. The bulk of the gargoyles seemed to have disappeared into thin air by the time they had broken through the thick trees and found themselves on the path towards the camp.
Blocking that path was a macabre sight. Surrounded by dead gargoyles were two dead priests, a lifeless couple tangled in death with their enemies. Their skin torn by claws and gargoyles bites with the man’s chest pierced by the gargoyles sharp talons, protruding through the man’s back.
Yaker walked over the bodies, only keeping enough of an eye to ensure he wasn’t stepping on a live monster. “The Paralictor would have lead the group to safety Commander.”
Yunessa followed after him, looking over the priests. Their shadow covered the woman’s face as they looked her over. “Yak- whor*sson!” The woman’s eyes opened when Yunessa had pulled away. Finnean was in their hand without realising it.
“The sun won’t ever rise again.” The woman’s wearied voice broke through her cracked, bloodless lips. “There’s only darkness above me. Even the sky is cursed.” Each word carried a deep sorrow mixed with the agony that only true tragedy imparted.
“The mendevian faithful break too easily.” Yaker said disdainfully. He had turned at the sound of the woman’s voice, eyeing her like an unpleasant bug.
“Oh, if all Mendevian devotees broke easily I’d be much happier.” Daeran began. Yunessa waved Daeran closer and he stepped over a gargoyle to stand by her. “Unfortunately most of them have good health, unconquerable will, and a never ending desire to moralise..” He jeered at the woman, leaning over to inspect her with some hesitation. “She has no wounds.” He shrugged at Yunessa’s questioning look. “She is not just wounded. I can see the signs of severe exhaustion, I wonder what happened here.”
“All people are easily broken.” Ember had also come close, Sosiel picked Ember up. Setting her on the other side of the woman. “The knights in pale armour help each other through the horror.” Ember told Yunessa. If her tone was quiet then it would have been as if she was confiding. But her eyes moved to Yaker. “The knights in black only break each other and everyone around them.”
“Let’s heal her and hide her under a tree before we go help the Paralictor- Priestess, can you hear us?” Yunessa waved their hand but the Priestess let out a moan of anguish.
“No. Expend your efforts on another. My crusade is over.” She took a slow breath, pushing Daeran’s hand away when he started to reach out. “I am a priestess of Ardent Sarenae from the other of the Sunrise Sword. Next to me is Ashus Striegher, the head of our order. We were…left without supplies when the monsters raided our camp in the middle of the night. It was impossible to survive with no provisions here.”
“We encountered the hellknights, wounded and exhausted. They spared us two flasks and a sack of dry bread. Two flasks between all of us! And they told us to use the sack for bandages after. The pain on Ashus’s face…”
“Hellknights.” Sosiel had also tried to reach out to the Priestess but they had shared a look, her face filled with the days of her agony and tragedy and he reluctantly pulled away from her. “It’s better to ally with wyverns.” His expression was unreadable as he looked down at the priestess.
“Did you see where the Paralictor went, Priestess?” Yunessa asked and the woman took a slow breath. Shuddering as she nodded.
“I saw where he went when the gargoyles attacked. Ashus had endeavoured to help them. Ashus endevored to help them. We even carried their wounded alongside our own. But that monster-” She broke off to let out a choked moan. “That monster had them slaughtered before we could take them to safety! Ashus was beside himself- it’s difficult to conceive of such evil. He told our people to retreat with the Hellknights to find shelter while he stayed to cover our retreat. I couldn’t let him stay alone. He neglected himself too much and he paid for it.”
Sosiel crossed his arms, his polearm resting behind them. “What a terrible injustice. But alas, all too common. Those who care for others often perish first.” He seemed to be struggling not to aide her, even as he respected her wishes. He threw Yunessa a pleading look.
“Priestess, please let us help you. We can’t help Ashus, but we can still help you so you can continue on for him.” Yunessa tried their best, putting on as much charm as they were able, the smallest of magic layered in their words.
But the Priestess was immune to it, looking at Yunessa wistfully. “Why? So many deaths, so many sacrifices, such bravery- and for what? No, I will not go with you stranger. I will die with my Commander. We lived for compassion and nobility. But to keep fighting for a world that has neither- no. Sarenae forgive me. Leave me here with Ashus.”
“I’m sorry these good people treated you that way.” Ember told the Priestess. Daeran, Woljif and Lann had begun to move around the corpses. “If you don’t have the strength to go any further then you should rest. We will continue the crusade. I promise.”
Yunessa picked Ember up. “Swift travels.” They told the Priestess. “And may Sarenae welcome you with open arms.” The priestess offered no response. Her eyes following Yunessa a moment longer before they closed.
“You are just going to leave her Yunessa? I thought you’d convince her to get up and fight to the end.” Sosiel looked back as the Priestess let out a soft exhale. Somehow Yunessa knew it was her final breath. “I thought you would convince her to get up and fight to the end.”
“Yunessa can’t.” Ember said. “She cannot get up. She won’t. She has already died inside…. Not from the gargoyles, but from the wounds those knights made in her heart.” Ember didn’t complain as Yunessa continued to carry her and kept on walking. “Soon she will go completely cold. You and I will remember her, won’t we? And we’ll fight for her as well.”
“You’re- you’re right Ember. I promise.” Sosiel adjusted his pole arm to rest more easily on his shoulder as he began to follow after Yunessa. He stayed at the back of the group, careful not to swing his polearm.
“I’m not fit to give advice Commander, but we shouldn’t waste time on fools like these.” Yaker stated. “The Gargoyles swoop in, take whoever they can manage, and then they regroup and attack again. I’m going back to my unit now, gargoyles or not. I’d advise you not to stay long either!”
“I told you.” Woljif grumbled. “Don’t expect any goodness from those black tin cans Chief! If you meet them, count yourself lucky if they don’t nail you to the nearest fence post!” He moved close to Yunessa who lead the group now, moving just ahead of the rest, Yaker at their side and Woljif close behind.
“A leader has to take care of their own tribe.” Lann began and Yunessa could feel the start of a headache in the back of their skull. “All the scandalised gasps - ‘how could he do such a thing’- suddenly fall away when you’re first faced with the hard choice: are you going to take food out of your own child’s mouth to feed a starving stranger?”
“Let’s keep moving. Hurry on.” Yunessa didn’t wait, following alongside Yaker and the now-certainly-a-Hell Knight began to move faster. The chatter continued as they reached the fallen camp the Hell knights and Sunrise knights.
“whor*sson.” Yunessa cursed softly as the group continued to talk and bicker. They caught a smell in the wind and felt the hair on the back of their neck rise. Catching the smell of feotid air in the wind. “Yaker! Get to your unit and tell the paralictor we’re coming! Gargoyles!” Shadows cast themself on the ground and Yunessa turned, spotting Woljif and shoving Ember into his arms.
A sharp whistle from their mouth saw the gargoyle about to descend on Woljif stagger, falling to the ground with a crash as the strength Yunessa put into the spell saw more than just its eardrums burst- its whole head spilled over the ground like a ruddy red watermelon cracking open.
Lann’s hand grabbed at their leg but it was too late- taloned feet grabbed Yunessa’s shoulders and with a weightless lurch Yunessa saw the ground abruptly get left behind as a gargoyle grabbed them. Ascending with such speed that the ground became distant far to quickly.
“whor*son!” They cursed, trying to twist in the gargoyle’s grasp. Foetid air assaulted their nostrils as the cold wind slapped at their exposed skin. That hurts. The claws dug into a shoulder, failing to hold both as Yunessa flailed. “Damn you!” If I’d listened and moved faster. If I’d only-
Their thoughts were interrupted as the one taloned foot holding their shoulder tightened, sending a wave of red hot pain from their now-bleeding shoulder to the rest of their body. As the ground beneath them began to blur Yunessa let out a cry, grabbing at Finnean. Finnean yelled as he became a sword, the silvery metal cutting into grey flesh and curdled blood spilled over Yunessa.
The gargoyle screeched, letting go of Yunessa, a sharp talon cutting at their stomach before they were free of it. The world once more lurched unpleasantly as their ascent reversed. There was sound and wind, cold air cutting at them and trees stealing droplets of crimson as Yunessa fell through their branches.
The trees are ugly. It was the last thought Yunessa had before the wind went out of them, blunt pain hitting them all over as the world changed colour. Something cracked- several things at once all cracked- and the colour in the world changed from dull greys and autumn to complete darkness.
Yunessa woke up in complete darkness. Gasping and then rolling over to feel at the sandy earth as they clutched at their side. “f*ck. f*ck. f*cking bloodless son of a whor*.” They cursed as they held an arm where they had been slashed. But as much as Yunessa tensed, the pain never came. Nor did their innards fall out as they pressed their arm tightly against their abdomen. “It doesn’t hurt? I- Finnean?” The pathfinder didn’;t answer, even when Yunessa called for him again.
When they pulled their arm away from their stomach, it was with dizzying realisation that their abdomen was unmarked that had them feel where the wound should have been. “FInnean?”
The pathfinder didn’t answer. Nor did Yunessa feel his hilt at their waist. I feel farther than I must have thought. Surprisingly free of any aches and pains, they pushed themself upright. “Okay, hold on.” They exhaled slowly, trying to force their heart to calm. It slammed against Yunessa’s ribs with the force of a hammer, desperately trying to escape as Yuness struggled to control their breathing. The dark shape of where they had fallen into revealed itself as vague black walls with a distant light from above.
“Finnean?” YUnessa called out, listening for the pathfinder. “Hey Finnean!” No response came when they raised their voice again. “No?” Yunessa exhaled slowly. “Well, it’s lucky you have the best bard in Mendev willing to search for you, Finnean.” They called a small bit of light by humming a bar.
The illuminated space was dark and grey. It struck a familiar chord within their memory, itching at the back of their skull like a rusted nail scraping at the bone. Only one path laid before them. “Well, with a wall on every side but one where else would I go?” They kept their voice cheerful as they took a step forward.
“Holy Mother of…” Anevia’s voice echoed through the tunnel. A dream? Just a memory? Hallucination? Yunessa didn’t wait to listen. They broke into a sprint down the tunnel, keeping their small glob of light with them as they ran.
An endless wall of grey stone met Yunessa on nearly every side. Anxiety began to well in their chest but they kept it at bay only because they were able to keep going forward. They couldn’t feel the same crisp autumn air they had breathed in the worldwound. There was sandy dirt under their boots- their old boots, Yunessa realised with a start. They could still taste ale in their mouth, could breathe in the overwhelming smell of freshly pulped meat. Deja vu hit their senses dredging up memories of the beginning. Still they kept moving.
Still they kept going until they reached a familiar place. Illuminated by light from above, Seelah stood over Anevia, trapped beneath the rubble. Seelah’s silver plate, dirtied by dust and ash shone no less brilliantly in the dim light. “Hey, hey!” She talked but Yunssa heard none of the rest of her words as it registered where they stood.
Or when they stood.
“- Everything’s going to be just fine… tell me something-” And Yunessa completed the sentence in their mind as Seelah said it aloud: “Can you feel your legs?”
“I feel them all right, wouldn’t say no to a little less feelin’ in them… my ankle’s killing me.” Yunessa watched as Aenvia’s brown eyes moved past Seelah, then back. Carrying a silent warning for Seelah to hear as Anevia continued. “- But my back seems to be in one piece. My head to.”
“That’s all that matters. Now we’re going to… hey!” Seelah turned her head to ‘see’ Yunessa. Her hand reached for her weapon. But are you doing that for show or because you didn’t catch what Anevia said with her eyes? It played out like a dream as Seelah moved her hand from her weapon to wave it at Yunessa. “Fancy meetin’ you here- you’re the one Terendelev healed today, right?” Seelah gestured to Anevia, her smile friendly and her hands clearly free of weapons. “You aren’t injured, are you?”
“No. I’m- I’m fine.” Their mouth was dry as they reached up to squeeze the shoulder that the gargoyle had pierced with its taloned feet. There were no wounds beneath their fingers. No broken flesh, no blood. Not even an ache to mark where the talons had cut into them. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“It’s alright.” Seelah said encouragingly. Her tone was gentle, her smile so friendly it looked real. “We all fell down from Kenabres. Can you help me get my friend out from under the boulders? We can take a break after.”
“Yeah.” Their throat was dry. The world moved surprisingly fast for exactly when in their memory Yunessa knew they were.”If you- if you keep holding that bit there I can get a lever to help pull her out of the rubble there.”
“That’s the spirit!” Seelah said approvingly. “Don’t worry friend.” She turned towards Anevia. “We’ll get you out from under there in no time.”
I know the Gods can be generous. Sometimes fate can be as well. But I am unsure what to make of this. Yunessa sat in Neatherholme, watching deformed shadows between slumped houses as firelight chased them away. Anevia and Seelah didn’t recognize me. Neither does Wendaug, Horgus, or any of the other Mongrels.
Yunessa checked their bracelet. The stone still looked dull, but it was functioning. I haven’t lost my mind or the stone would be darkly coloured and out of charge. I haven’t lost my mind. Their eyes watched the firelight play with the shadows. This feels real. The cold stone I’m sitting on. The cold air brought in by the river still smells like chalk, as dark as pitch with its blind fish swimming beneath the water. The fire they sat by warmed their cold hands and Yunessa sourly eyed the stack of firewood. Dried mushrooms weren’t normally something that was good to burn, but whatever kind of mushrooms grew down here seemed able to be a passable substitute.
I can feel myself breathe. I see. I feel tired, hungry. Is there such a thing as a second chance or am I having a dream? One of the many things Yunessa had heard of death was that you relived your life if Pharasma was deciding where to send your soul and had trouble finalizing their choice. But if I was standing before the Lady of Graves surely I’d be standing before her and not reliving this memory. I went almost the same as the first time. It wouldn’t deviate either. Yunessa hadn’t claimed any visions from Desna this time and it had been easier to default to how they had acted the first time.
The angel sword remains. Yunessa felt it when their mind turned towards it and as they closed their hand around an invisible hilt, they knew it would come if they called for it. That much they felt was true. The sword remains and so does this. They took off the necklace they had strung Daeran’s ring on. The scratched silver ring looked no different than before with some of its fine gems missing or chipped. Not even the initials of Daern’s ring had changed.
“I’m sorry.” They told the ring. Daeran couldn’t hear them. I’m not sure why my thoughts keep moving to you. Perhaps it’s that you’re stuck in a party again with a killer and it bothers me. It’s not like I won’t save you again.
Something about that thought made them pause. Was it worth it to go through Kenabres again? They could recall it all. From meeting their other companions to the corpses in the street. The rain and chill.
Ember singing children’s rhymes as she splashed through the puddles. Woljif chained in the Defender’s Heart basem*nt, stuck there as Keresmei wanted to (rightfully) blame him for theft. Finnean stuck beneath a bookcase, crying for help. Ramien stubbornly refusing to leave the city even as Hulrun wanted his head on a pike. Anevia would still have a limp.Galfrey standing in the tent and calling them knight Commander.
But would any of them be able to get through the Shield maze if Yunessa left Kenabres? Would Daeran survive the serial killer at his party? Or would Ublrig wake up in the library at all if they hadn’t gone poking around there? Would Aravashinal survive the streets of Kenabres? Would Lann survive Wendaug? Defender’s Heart Inn might survive. Might.But the citizens Yunessa had saved wouldn’t survive.
So many questions. So many possibilities that Yunessa just being there had changed just by existing in the right moment. The longer Yunessa stared at the fire, the more it gnawed at them. The answer was obvious. As much as they wanted to slip through the shield maze and leave Kenabres right now, there was no question what they’d do next.
One of them tried to grab at me when the gargoyle plucked me from the ground. Woljif put his hands over my throat as I bled out. Without thinking about it, Yunessa felt themself rise up from their seat.
“Once more.” They told the fire. “Ignoring all this other business. One more time.” My friends are waiting and there’s people that need me. The choice was made and they could almost feel the wheel of fate creak in the back of their mind.
Indeed, what other choice could they make?
The Shield Maze is no less impressive in its construction a third time. I’ve considered telling my companions about what’s occurred. But something made me pause. I don’t know if this is a dream, I’m hallucinating, or if this is ‘real’. Did I lose my bracelet when I made the gargoyle drop me? It doesn’t feel like the times I’ve gotten too close to losing my mind. There’s still a clarity to my thoughts, the world feels real, and everything moves like it’s in real time and not a dream.
What being would grand another second chance if they even would? Here my lack of knowledge is notable. I remember the Gods, many of their stories. But when I try to search my mind for who could be responsible I come up blank. I feel like I should know but like the day Ramien figured out I had forgotten something I thought was essential, I know I can’t trust the memories I have. I have such a fragmented knowledge of my own life.
How I survived the trip to Kenabres I don’t recall. But I can’t treat anything before this city as if it was real anymore. So I need to apply myself. Harder this time. There are friends that need me and battles that need to be won.
Feeling the cold rain on their face was such a relief that Yunessa wanted to cry. Escaping the underground caves beneath Kenabres felt like such a relief that not even the Grey Garrison made them worry. Yunessa just enjoyed being alive, feeling the rain kiss their head and moving with purpose.
There was no need to wait this time when everything continued to play out the same. Minago fleeing the fight. The Defender’s Heart Inn. Woljif in the basem*nt below the inn. Forn sitting wounded in a corner. Irabeth planning things out over a table stained with wine from when it only served drunkards.
There was something about listening to Woljif and Camilla bicker over the map. Perhaps it was reassuring to hear the argument. It certainly felt reassuring to walk down the streets of Kenabres with Ember’s hand grasping theirs. They felt relief bursting into Daeran’s home. Seeing his gold head in the middle of the crowd stirred up several emotions.
Aranka and Aravashinal’s voices were welcome when they moved through the streets once more. Nenio’s…wasn’t. But Yunessa was glad their companions were happy to see her. The purplle knife that belonged to the Aeon felt dead in their hands. But Yunessa felt it was poor form to leave it on the ground for anyone to find.
Hulrun raged but Yunessa paid him no mind. Waving the inquisitor a goodbye as they went to search for Ramien at the temple of Desna. Once more to get another blessing and then to move on. There was something about seeing Ramien’s face that eased the pain in their chest. He was on friendly terms with anyone who wouldn’t attack them, most likely. But his friendliness was a comfort all the same.
The area of Elysium that Yunessa found themself in was once more a twilight forest. As much as Yunessa didn’t want to be comforted, something about the streaks of silver in the twilight sky and the gentle breeze eased something inside of them.
Yunessa walked alongside the stream, resisting the urge to explore or veer off in a completely different direction. They did let their hand move over the ancient trunk of a tree they passed. The garlands of unfamiliar plants still hung from tree branches, the flowers in them smelling as sweet as honey when Yunessa passed underneath them. The plants were still beyond what they remembered. Leaved that shined like jewels or moss that felt as soft as feathers.
The river next to them still had rocks that gleamed like stars, winking silver from beneath the water. “There’s not a lot of places that are worth going through the potential hell of ‘did I finally snap’. But here, I think…” They trailed off to look at their hands. Where Ember had grasped at their clothing or hand to tug them along she’d left ashes behind. Something in Elysium eased the strain and wear of wondering if they’re lost their mind over the last couple days.
It was perfect. Yunessa couldn’t find any other words to describe the twilight forest they’d found themselves in or how pleasant it was. It was peaceful and pleasant. “Yeah.” Yunessa spoke aloud. “Yeah, here everything is good and none of it hurts.” Their eyes moved down to their hand, shaking off a flake of ash and watching as it fell into the river. “But what matters isn’t here with me.” They looked at the forest around them reluctantly fighting off the desire to sit and watch the stream, Yunessa moved on, listening until they could hear the soft creaking of a tree branch and spotted the Azata swinging from the branch.
All of them spotted Yunessa when the bard approached, watching them with the same interest as they had the first time. “I don’t mean to interrupt your fun, do forgive me.” Yunessa mimicked a bow they had seen Daeran perform for his cousin.
“What interruption?” The swinging Azata asked.
“Most people don’t like strangers in their home, I’m aware.” Yunessa said apologetically and the Azata with antlers and butterfly wings snorted in amusem*nt.
“Our home today. Tomorrow our home could be leagues to the west, or an underground cave in the ocean, or a castle of clouds on the breeze. Strangers are welcomed if they’re like us.” The azata canted its head as it studied Yunessa. “Do you know where you are?”
“Elysium and you’re all the Azata- children of freedom.” Yunessa held their hand up towards the Azata. “And this is the third time I’ve met you all.” The azata didn’t look particularly surprised, but rather interested. Or so it seemed, Yunessa was struggling to read them with their features so radically different from what they were used to. “Do you remember me?”
The azata with a dozen tails moved closer to Yunessa, moving around them with a grace that Yunessa would have struggled to imitate as an elf. The one swinging above Yunessa stopped to lean low and study them from above.
“Mortals rarely come here when they’re alive. But you are here, and have come more than once, which means something in your soul brought you here. If it is your third time-” The swinging Azata began.
“-There is something in your soul that continues to harbour a desire for freedom, yearning and compassion.” Antlers and butterfly wings said. “We must be fated to meet.”
“You could stay.” Murmured the third Azata. “You smell of blood and death but it has not broken you.”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn't stay.” Yunessa protested. There was no danger as the azata studied Yunessa openly. As if Yunessa was a curious thing they’d never seen before. “My friends need me, they- well.” Even if this isn’t real. “Even if I’m insane I think I should try to help them.”
“It is right that you do not want to turn your back on your friends.” The swinging azata said with approval. “I can feel the pain in your soul.”
“Do you remember me?” Yunessa asked. If even azata don’t recall me then have I truly snapped? The anxiety returned again, clawing at the inside of their chest to try and deny them their ability to breathe.
“This is the first time we have met you.” The third azata spoke.
“A special meeting.” Many tails agreed. “Souls drawn together, if only for a moment.”
“The third special meeting must be the charm.” Yunessa kept their voice dry. “Because I think I’m going truly insane. I’d hope somebody would remember a face like mine.Nobody else does.” Not Seelah or Anevoa, Camilla, or even Lann seemed to remember them.The lack of recognition in their eyes hurt more the second time.
“There is always a reason.” Murmured the swinging Azata. “We do not have the answer you seek.” It held up a finger that looked like a twig. “But that does not mean it doesn’t exist.” The lines of bark on its face seemed to twist into something akin to sympathy.
They fell silent then. A cool breeze caressed Yunessa’s face as the sound of birdsong came with it. They remained still for moving would have forced them to draw more breath. Their eyes had been too dry in Kenabres and they refused to give in to tears.
“Maybe the answer you seek lies with why you’re returning.” Many tails said finally. “We cannot provide an answer that does not exist for us.” They looked between each other. “But we cannot ignore you.”
“We will help.” Antlers said. “The pain and death that clings to you promises to spread.”
“Like a disease.” Agreed the Swinging Azata.
“So when you need us most-”
“- Remember us.”
“And then remember this song. We will help you if you are still true to what brought you beneath this sky.”
Woljif is once more cleared of suspicion within the family and with that, I have Finnean Dismar in my hands once more. He didn’t know why I was upset, but he’s done his best to be reassuring when he’s talked to me. I’ve done everything I did the first and second times but my companions are worried I’ve overextended myself. Perhaps I have gotten a cold. So they aren’t entirely wrong.
I’ve moved so quickly through the city that when they attacked the inn there was almost none to support the minotaur that tried to break through the defences. I found a head in my room again when I slept. I don’t know who is so stealthy that they can get past me so many times. I am still convinced it is one of Daeran’s party guests or someone else at the inn.
I hate getting these heads. There’s a story of a serial killer that escaped the jail in Kenabres, but they cut off his thumbs when they arrested him. A thumbless man would catch Anevia’s attention- even more so when said thumbless man is a known serial killer.
So who then?
I do not see any face notable enough nor person strange enough who would do such a thing. Or even to hint at it. Even Forn, which feels like scraping the bottom of a barrel, has been too wounded to leave during these few days. So then, we are left with a crowd of others, any of whom could access my Commander’s tent or my room at the inn. The latter easy, the former requires travelling along with the crusade.
Once Galfrey comes I will ask Anevia to compile a list of names and start matching them off. Whoever is leaving me these has to go out to commit a murder, remove the head perfectly, and then dispose of the body. Not impossible while Kenabres still suffers demons. But even on the crusade? Who could hide a severed head so well in the camp?
Perhaps if I can find Roan before he interrupts the funeral of Sosiel’s friends and disturbs the rest of the dead I can ask. I know what everyone will say roughly. Even if this is a real chance to do it over again, well, I can get less sleep to chase down this one mystery. There’s enough threats in the crusade. I can’t handle a murderous stalker atop it.
Anevia told me enough about Roan that I think I can at least talk to him. If nothing else I can save a few more lives within the cemetery.
He was my first murderer, whether he knows it or not. He owes me.
Camilla being Horgus’s daughter is as weird as all the strange instruments in the Gwerm household. I’m convinced Camilla uses some of them. But trying to figure her out is difficult when she will shut the conversation down or be irritable and insulted. Another task to my very long list of things I need to figure out. I don’t think Camilla is a danger. Not to me anyway. But she has gotten a bit of the power I received - I should keep an eye on her regardless.
Once more the Wardstone is gone. Just like before and before that. Angels that needed to be sent where they had to go. Is it better to let them suffer and excise the ones that succumbed to anger? I don’t know enough to consider the answer.
But it is better to be free. Given the chance I cannot deny them freedom. Perhaps the broken angels can redeem themselves to return to their former home. Or perhaps not. I know little of angels beyond the most basic texts available. But they have a chance. It’s more than most.
Even Minago is less fearful when seen a third time.
No, that’s wrong. Minago is still terrifying to behold. An unnatural mix of crimson and repulsive- I say this after seeing her maggot-like tongue slather itself on Staunton Vhane’s face. In my haste to hurry I’d forgotten him.
Perhaps it is more accurate to say I am used to her. If she does not have a chance to learn the way I have the last two times, then while she’s still fearsome, the fear is dulled. If I see her outside of Kenabres then I will truly have to watch myself. This time I was faster, used everything I had and still she slipped away with Staunton Vhane despite my attempt to mortally wound her. A crafty lillitu is one that isn’t dead.
The Red Morning Massacre and Drezen are proof of that. What will she do with Staunton? I wonder. I wish I’d managed to speak with his brother before the Garrison- the sheathe he was supposed to make to compliment Seelah’s relic is very likely to happen. But perhaps Minago will take Staunton and run. He’s an addict and she’s his drug of choice so surely there’s a honeymoon period to follow while they do whatever it is Lillitu do with their toys. For surely she’ll take time to make sure he’ll never be able to leave again.
If Staunton Vhane is one of the reasons I’ll make it to Drezen without seeing Minago then I won’t exert unneeded effort for him. I won this fight because Minago is cautious and a coward. The next time we meet, if we do, I suspect she’ll have done her best to rig things in her favor.
Farewell then Staunton Vhane and farewell Minago. Until the time comes to burn that bridge. Unless I’m lucky.
The celebration went well. But I’m starting to develop a dislike towards the ale served at the Defender’s Heart Inn. I’m beginning to find a craving for something I don’t recall. Something less like ale. But I’m growing used to the licorice taste that taints the wash-mixture that everything uses around here. I couldn’t bring myself to feel surprised when everything happened much like before.
If I can roughly count every day since I came to Kenabres then I think I have been here three months. The caves give me anxiety. But I have found the sky again. Even if there is no sun then I am glad I am alive. All I want now is to see the stars.
And apply myself to studying. Even if I’m not insane- No, I have to be insane. I’m struggling to tell. But I’m trying to keep myself together. I’m trying so hard.
