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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Thirty-Five: Guilty Conscience Pt. 2

“Let's begin..."

“Wait!"

“Hm?" Hirus leans over, looking down at his victim. “Would you care to simply tell me what King Vashalak wants to know, and spare yourself the suffering? Please say 'no'." He flashes a wicked grin.

“What's all this about?! What do you want?! Who am I to you?!" Irzain pleads with his captor.

“Huh?! ... What kind of trick is this?!" Hirus narrows his glowing, purple eyes, which radiate with his evil magic.

“It's not a trick! What do you want from me and why?!"

“The hell if I know!" Hirus snickers. “You think they tell me that?!"

“How can you not know?!"

“You destroyed all of the records before we could get to them, so now I'm tasked with recovering the knowledge, and I'll pull it right out of your skull if you make me. I must say, I'm greatly looking forward to it."

“What?! ... But someone must know who I am and what the King wants with me!" Irzain exclaims, a palpable fear in his voice.

“Only our great King, Vashalak, knows why he wants you. I'm just here to collect everything important, in my fun little way." Hirus giggles sadistically.

“If you don't know what it is that King Vashalak wants, how will you know when you have it?" Irzain poses.

“I have my ways... I'm sure it'll be world shattering knowledge, considering the trouble and expense he's gone through to find you. In retrospect, we probably should've been more gentle with your associates, in case you never turned up. Admittedly, I was very zealous in purging them. Some of them I didn't even ask any questions! Can you believe that?! Silly me!" Hirus chirps as he smacks a hand against his forehead.

Irzain furls his brow at his startling behavior. It's as if the torture and murder of his friends is as menial to the Vizhek as going to the market for provisions.

“About the only thing I learned was that the Helngar woman was your lover. Jazid shouted it over and over, hoping I would let him go back to his cell and choose her instead. I wasn't done playing with him, of course, but she was my next project. I tried not to kill her, but she resisted my methods. I couldn't even get your name out of her! Did you ever tell your minions your name? Because none of them seemed to know."

“You son of a whore..." A tearful Irzain chokes out.

“Hey, she was more expensive than you could ever afford." Hirus chuckles. “Anyway, who you are is of little consequence to me. All I need is that precious knowledge stored in your mind..."

“I don't remember anything. I was injured and I've lost most of my memories." Irzain quietly replies, glaring with rage at his captor.

“We'll just see about that..."

Returning to his place near the top of Irzain's platform, Hirus once again rests his hands on either side of the Scribe's head. Closing his glowing eyes, he tilts his head back as his palms begin to radiate with his sinister magic. Irzain feels a pain inside of his head, like a flame resting on the crown of his skull. So strong is the pain that he can only wince and grit his teeth. Caught off guard by the sensation, he cannot even scream. The burning moves over and around his brain, crawling as if it were alive. As abruptly as it came, it suddenly stops.

“By the Seraphs! ... Your mind is so scrambled! I can't make anything out! How did you even survive the damage to your brain?!"

Irzain lay motionless atop the platform, staring blankly at the corner of the room. He struggles to recover from the sensation of having his mind probed by Hirus' dark magic. After a moment of silence, Hirus begins to pace, moving to and fro before the platform.

“This is not good. Not good at all. You truly don't remember; I felt no resistance at all and yet I couldn't see anything that made sense! ... I can't fail King Vashalak or he'll purge me too... I'm not going to throw forty years of loyal service as a torturer away because you're damaged! No, no! What to do, what to do... Hmm..."

“You can't fix him, sir?" The lone guard steps forward.

“Hm... I suppose I could try and repair his mind with Halcyon magic. I don't use it often, though, as you might expect. I may not have a choice; we need that knowledge, and no one else can probe minds the way I can... Well, as far as I know... I'm not sure if this toy is ready for the treatment after such a thorough probing, so take him back to the cells."

“Yes, sir!"

“And bring me the human!" Hirus swiftly adds.

“Which one, sir?"

“The new one. Roak is getting worn out, anyway. He's becoming unstable."

“Yes, sir!"

As the guard removes Irzain's straps, the Scribe's mind swirls. He can't help but wonder if he'll survive further probing; he certainly felt like he was going to die. However, if the knowledge they seek is still locked inside of his mind, they'll try to retrieve it. Will he ever see his friends again? His thoughts dwell on Kirsta for a moment, feeling guilty for making her fail in her mission to protect him. Her honor and duty are so important to her.

“Where are you now?" He thinks quietly aloud as he's dragged through the hall and back to the cells.

Checking their weapons, Kirsta covers the table in the lounge with pistols, blades and Valan's custom-built, one-handed crossbows. All three women collect their weapons, plus the extras that belonged to Valan and Steingar. They're laden with gear and ready for a bloody fight. Using spare cloaks, they cover themselves and conceal their weapons before leaving the Arona-Dahl and jogging back to the old park. Hopefully it's not too late.

“Just hang on. We're coming." Kirsta mutters to herself, her chainmail armor and weapons clanking.

With his new toy strapped to the platform, Hirus touches Valan's head, resting his fingers on his temples, just as he did for Irzain. A horrible pain overwhelms Valan, who suddenly sees a flash before opening his eyes to pure darkness. The pain has gone, and the room has shifted. Where is he?! A faint light begins to glow and he discovers that he's in a misty, blackened room that seems to have no form or function. He panics, looking for some rational explanation as to what's going on and how he was instantly transported there, wherever there is.

“Where is this place?! What's going on?!" Valan yells, spinning in desperate circles.

“We're inside your mind." Hirus' sepulchral voice chirps.

“What're you talking about?! Show yourself, damnit!"

Emerging from the shadows, Hirus seems to form from the misty walls. He approaches Valan, who races toward his captor. He lifts his hands high to grab Hirus' throat. As soon as he touches him, however, Hirus vanishes before his eyes, disappearing in a puff of black smoke. Valan pauses, looking frantically for his enemy.

“Now that we've established how futile it is to try and assault me, let's begin!" Hirus' voice giddily exclaims.

“Begin what?! How'd you do that?!" Valan gasps.

“I've told you; we're inside of your mind. You haven't left the dungeon or even the table you're strapped to! This world is merely a construct of your mind, which I, through my superior breeding and capabilities, am controlling. I prefer to interrogate people this way. I see much better results than with... Traditional methods." Hirus casually explains.

“That's impossible. What trickery is this?!"

“Haze is a powerful magic, and the few who master it can perform wonders. Allow me to demonstrate..."

As Valan's eyes scan the misty room, he can feel a gentle burning inside of his head.

“Hmm... What an interesting life you've lived. So privileged and yet so... Bland! It wasn't until you were fifteen that you took your first life, and you hadn't even enjoyed the pleasures of a woman yet. So sad!" Hirus cheerfully remarks.

“H-how do you know that?!" Valan gasps.

“I can see it in your mind, but some things are hidden... What are you keeping from me? Surely, it can't be this!"

In the dark corridor of Valan's mind, a figure begins to appear in the distance. From the mist of his memories, the being steps forward. Valan's aghast by the terrifying sight. His deceased mother stands before him!

“How is this possible?! What dark magic is this?!" Valan demands.

“Poor Valina! She didn't enjoy the news, when Falidad told her what he'd made you do..." Hirus continues, ignoring his prisoner's questions.

The image of Falidad takes shape, growing from the mist and standing beside Valina. He speaks to her, gloating about his achievement.

“I've finally made that boy of yours into a man!" Falidad boasts.

“What have you done, you monster?! What did you make my baby do?!" Valina cries.

“Your 'baby', the little bastard that he is, doesn't seem to like women; I know I'd had a dozen by his age! So, I thought, 'what else would a man like?' and I gave him the next best thing! When you see Valan, I want you to greet him as my new executioner..."

“No... Oh no! Tell me you didn't!" Valina whimpers.

“I did! He was too cowardly to use a sword or an axe, but he seems to greatly enjoy guns. He put my wheellock to good use on that lover of yours." Falidad flashes an evil grin.

“NOOO!!!"

“YEEESSS! POOR WALMON!" Falidad laughs.

“I like your father." Hirus remarks to Valan, appearing from the mist.

“You made my baby commit murder... You killed him as much as you killed Walmon..." Valina weeps.

“Don't call him that. He's a man now, and I've finally made him one. Never forget that, and never forget who you truly belong to..."

“What a pity." Hirus sighs as the vision fades. “She just couldn't handle the new you, could she?"

With a wave of his hand, a new vision appears. Valan stares in pure horror as his mother scrawls a note. A noose hangs in the background. He knows what's about to happen.

“You're the one who found her first, to your recollection. Have you ever wondered what she thought about or looked like before she died?" Hirus turns to Valan.

“Mom!"

He races forward, but within a few steps his feet freeze to the blackness of the floor. It's as if he's caught in ice, but it isn't cold.

“Ah-ah-ah!" Hirus waves a finger at him. “You can't avoid life lessons such as this forever. You should know better by now!"

“Mom... Please, stop this..." Valan chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“But... We're having so much fun!" Hirus giggles sadistically.

As Valina writes her last words, her voice echoes throughout the void, though her lips don't move. She narrates the note that Valan had found all those years ago. He never forgot the words it bore.

“Dear son,

I can't believe that it's come to this. I never saw this coming, though I should've. Falidad has manipulated me since the day I met him, and now he's finally corrupted you, too. It's more than I can bear. I've longed for this escape, but I stayed in this mortal coil for you, to protect you from him. I failed. You aren't my precious baby anymore, so there's no point in delaying the inevitable. Try to live a good life. Goodbye."

Valan struggles against his frozen legs, grabbing them with both hands and yanking. It's no use. Valina climbs atop a stool and slips the noose around her neck. He cannot bear to watch. Closing his eyes tightly, he hears the stool tip over and fall, then the rope pulls tight. She gurgles and wheezes, and he finally opens a single eye. Hirus smiles as he watches, unaware that Valan has turned away. Overcome by the pain of losing his mother for a second time, he turns his eyes toward her. Her feet thrash about like a fish out of water as she slowly dies of strangulation, her face turning a deep blue.

“By the Seraphs, stop this!" He pleads with Hirus.

“Hold on! She's almost... There..."

The choking and wheezing stops. Hirus sighs with relief, his twisted smile growing even wider. Was he taking pleasure in the sight of her death, or was it Valan's suffering that pleased him? Perhaps it was both.

“Damn you to Hell..." Valan whimpers.

“That's right. You fight it. I prefer it that way, but remember... You'll never win."

“You're sick."

“Not yet. I haven't eaten enough. Haha! This was just an appetizer. How about we try the main course?"

“M-main...?"

With the wickedest of smiles, Hirus waves his hand. Valina's swaying corpse fades into the mist, only for a new figure to emerge. Valan's eyes widen in utter shock and horror.

“No! Please! I'll do anything! J-just stop this!"

“Open your mind fully to me or she's next..."

“By the Seraphs... This is Hell!"

“Aww, you flatter me!" Hirus coos.

Sitting in his cell, Steingar looks at the cage where Irzain rests. Whatever Hirus has done to him left no marks, but it drained all of the energy from him. Pacing back and forth, rambling incoherently to himself, Roak's behavior distracts the Helngar from his thoughts. Slowly but surely, Roak's words begin to transform into lucid sentences.

“They tried taking it from me, but they didn't. I hid it, hahaha-yes. It's mine. Mine! They can't have it. I have it! Not them! Me! When I'm dead, they can ask my bones and they'll know! The water is pure without bones in it! Purity in fire! Purity in water! They can't take my purity! It's mine. Mine! MINE!"

“Rrrrrr-shut up, damn you!" Steingar finally snaps, grabbing the bars and screaming at the dreadlocked human.

“Ahhhh! Don't give me your voice! They'll come again! Take it back! Take it back!" Roak flies into a panic.

He swirls around, looking for the guards, his dreadlocks swishing about as he spins. Roak soon collapses into the furthest corner of his cell, sobbing like a child as he lay upon the floor. Steingar furls his brow as he slides away from the bars of their adjoined cells.

“... What did Hirus do to you?" He quietly asks.

A latch opens and a hinge squeaks, echoing throughout the hallway. He turns his attention toward the main entrance to the cellblock, watching the lone guard as he drags Valan by the arms. He's unconscious, his body limp, like a ragdoll. As he approaches the cage, more guards appear, ensuring that Steingar doesn't contemplate an escape. Valan seems to awaken, his head shifting and slowly lifting. Opening the cell door, the guard shoves him into the cage as if he were already dead. Steingar catches him, cradling his friend in his arms.

“You bastards... I'll make you regret this someday." Steingar growls, glaring at the guard.

“I'd love to see you try." The guards laughs as he slams and locks the cell door. “Now you just wait right there. I'll go fetch the catchpole!"

As the guard collects the device, and more guards arrive to help him, Valan grabs the back of Steingar's shirt.

“Steingar..."

“I'm here buddy. It's going to be okay... Look, I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have been such an asshole in the tavern. This is all my fault."

“Just listen..." Valan chokes out.

“What is it?"

“Whatever you love the most... Hide it. Hide it in your mind... He uses our love and our pain against us."

Steingar is thoroughly perplexed, but he doesn't have the time to ask any questions. With three more guards there to help him, the original guard returns with the catchpole. He latches the collar around the Helngar's neck. At first, he resists, but Steingar swiftly gives in; he knows that the torture will only be worse if he fights them. As they leave Valan alone in the cell, lying on the filthy floor, Roak approaches the bars.

“Pain from pain? Has he used the vile touch, touching your mind vile-y?!?!"

“Yes..."

“Oh no! A new toy for Hirus! ... Oh, wait... A new toy for Hirus! Hahaha!" Roak happily dances in his cell.

“How many times has he done it to you?" Valan weakly asks, struggling with the worst headache of his life.

“Do numbers go that high?" Roak innocently replies.

“Oh no... Please... Someone save us. I can't suffer this torment for long."

Sliding out of the culvert, Lutala yawns and stretches her muscles. Her body is sore from the horribly uncomfortable tunnel where she'd spent the night. Making her way through the field, she pauses as she sees a rider racing past her. He pays her no attention, though she wonders from whence he came. Heading toward the capital city, she joins several other vagrants, finding quite a few women among their ranks. Using old rags and without removing their clothes, they wash in a stream that runs through the old park.

Afterward, she makes her way toward the city, intent on buying food with her last coin. It's the only solace she'll have, as she'll be forced to sell her talents as a healer. It breaks her heart, but she cannot think of any other way to reunite with her parents and siblings. Suddenly, however, she pauses, frozen in place by the sight of three familiar figures racing through the field. The Jaliscan with wild, pink hair points toward Lutala, while speaking to the blond-haired human and the dainty, young looking Falmun. The trio turn and race toward her, their matching cloaks fluttering behind them as they run.

“Kirsta! Jarae! Mairlynn!"

“Hi, Lutala!" Mairlynn exclaims through labored breaths.

“What're you three doing out here?"

“I was about to ask you the same thing." Jarae retorts.

“Oh... Uhm, I..."

“Later. We're a bit busy at the moment, dealing with a problem." Kirsta begins, growing impatient.

“What kind of problem?" Lutala cocks her head.

“Have you seen anything unusual or suspicious out here? Anything at all?" Jarae asks, ignoring her question.

“A rider came through here a few minutes ago. There must be a stable back there, because he appeared from out of nowhere. He was heading for the capital city as if his life depended on it." Lutala answers.

“Damnit!" Kirsta growls.

“We won't have long." Jarae turns to her companions.

“What's the matter?! What's going on?!" Lutala asks, growing concerned.

“The guys were taken prisoner." Mairlynn answers her.

“There's some old castle at the end of this field. We followed them there; it's where they're being held." Kirsta adds.

“That rider must be off to tell the big bosses about their new prize. Maybe even getting reinforcements." Jarae remarks.

“Stay safe, Lutala. Let's go!" Kirsta turns to the healer before motioning to her companions.

“Wait! I can help!" Lutala exclaims as they leave her behind.

The women stop and look back, raising their collective brows.

“I don't think we need a healer for this." Jarae remarks.

“At least not yet." Mairlynn quips.

“I can be of service. Trust me." Lutala politely insists.

Lifting a clawed hand, she opens her fingers and reveals a large ball of unspeakably bright light. It briefly blinds the women even in the light of the day. With an even brighter flash, the light vanishes and Lutala's hand falls to her side.

“Alright, whatever, but we need to make this fast!" Kirsta instructs.

As the four women race toward the castle, they only hope that they aren't too late. Lying atop the table, strapped down and wearing a muzzle with a bit, Steingar looks suspiciously at Hirus, who walks slowly around him. The Vizhek places his hands on either side of Steingar's head, and a splitting pain in his skull gives way to a powerful vision. He stands in a dark room, a void of pure blackness, yet he can see. The floor is like polished obsidian, and a deep purple mist hovers over the floor and forms the smokey walls.

“What is this place?! Where are we?!"

“Why, we're in your mind, Steingar! Tiny, isn't it?! Haha!"

“Horseshit!"

“No, Steingar. It's anything but... Hmm... You're hiding something, too. I can feel your resistance to me... Good. I prefer it this way!"

“W-what're you doing?!"

“Watch and see..."

Appearing from the mist, Hirus immediately freezes Steingar in place. He was even faster to attack him than Valan was. Nearly as solid as a statue, Steingar struggles with his frozen legs. With a wave of Hirus' hand, Steingar's distracted by the sight of a figure forming in the distance. He focuses his eyes, which suddenly bulge out of his head. Steingar is looking at himself! Sitting upon a rock that he'd often used as a stool, out in the field and at the edge of his family's lands, he wrote poetry. An intelligent boy, he taught himself how to read by age twelve, to the delight of his mother, Brynja, and father, Alfher.

“Look at that! Little Steingar, pretending to be a poet! Hah! It's a shame you're just a Helngar; people would've loved your work. You had quite a talent for it, but, alas, it was not meant to be..."

Hirus waves his hand again, and another figure appears. Walking on a crutch and missing a leg, it's immediately apparent to the Helngar who the figure is.

“F-father?!" He gasps.

“Steingar..." His father, Alfher, speaks to the younger version of himself.

“Yes, father?" Young Steingar sets his quill aside.

“We need to talk... About your mother."

“NO!" Steingar roars, glaring at Hirus. “Stop this! I don't want to see this again!"

“Then open your mind..." Hirus flashes a twisted grin.

Hiding the secrets of the Arona-Dahl and his friendship with Trellan, Steingar bites his bottom lip. He cannot betray them. He readies himself for the worst experience of his life. Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhales and turns to look at the vision. The visibly surprised Hirus raises his brow. With his wicked smile growing, Hirus turns back to the vision and waves his hand, allowing it to continue.

“Your mother... She's dead."

“What?!" Young Steingar gasps and leaps to his feet. “No! I thought they'd find her alive!"

“Don't be stupid. Her ship was hunting pirates!" Alfher growls.

“D-did they f-find her body?" Young Steingar sheepishly asks.

“Yes..."

“Wha-... What did they do to her?" Young Steinger sniffles.

“They had her... All of them probably. When they found her body, it was with a pile of other women they'd raped to death!

“By the Seraphs!"

“Dozens, maybe hundreds held your mother down and pumped her! She was covered in cuts and her fur tainted with their vile seed!" Alfher roars.

“NOO!!! MOTHER!!!" Young Steingar falls to the ground and weeps. “Those filthy pirates... Damn them all!"

“That's right. Feel it! Embrace the hatred, son! They tortured your poor mother. They raped my Brynja to death. They deserve to suffer and die... And you're going to do it. You're going to avenger her."

Young Steingar turns to his father, visibly confused.

“I've signed you up for the military. No more of this poetry shit!" He roars, throwing Steingar's quill and inkwell. “You're not a little girl or a sissy! You're a man, and you're going to fight and kill like a man!"

“B-but I don't want to fight!" A frightened young Steingar jumps to his feet. “Mother said I shouldn't!"

“And she's dead! Do you think Brynja didn't fight when all of those men were holding her down and enjoying her flesh the way I used to?! HUH?! DO YOU?!"

Hirus waves his hand, making the vision disappear. He turns to Steingar, his smile growing as a single tear runs through the fur of the Helngar's cheek. His hand trembles as he balls it into a fist, overcome with the pain and humiliation.

“That's a good question, isn't it?" Hirus suddenly speaks. “Perhaps we should ask her?"

“WHAT?!" Steingar turns his head and stares with wide eyes at his oppressor. “What're you talking about?!

“Do you think she fought? I think she did. I can see your life with her. She was a feisty woman, but then again, she's still a woman... Do you think she succumbed? Did she perhaps willingly take all of those filthy, unwashed pirates into her body?" Hirus speaks in a startlingly innocent tone.

“Don't you dare..."

“Maybe she enjoyed it?! Let's ask her!" Hirus chirps.

He turns and waves a hand as Steingar attacks him. Just as he rises to his feet, the Vizhek glances over to him. No sooner than his silver eyes land upon Steingar's form, his entire body freezes yet again, becoming as still as a statue. Hirus reaches out and grabs his chin, slowly turning his head so that he can watch. To Steingar's horror, he sees a vision of his mother. She lay on her back, stripped naked, her ample breasts being held by a strange man. The human grins with visible lust, as other men of varying races hold her arms and legs down. They're all frozen in place, like wax figures.

“Hmm... This doesn't look quite right... What could be missing? ... Oh, I know!" Hirus gleefully exclaims.

Waving his hand again, as many as thirty more men form from the mist, all of them naked and holding their erections. Snapping his fingers, the figures come to life. His mother writhes and thrashes, fighting her captors as best as she can.

“Rrr-no! Let me go your sons of whores! I'll kill you all!" Brynja roars.

“Who's first?!" A man laughs.

“Out of the way!"

A Jaliscan with dirty fur kneels betwixt her legs, inching closer. They snicker and laugh at their victim as the first of many men begins to enjoy her flesh.

“Ooohh-yeah..." He sighs.

“AHH! SOMEONE STOP THIS!" Brynja screams.

“Hurry up! I'm next!" Another man says, standing in a line that forms behind the first rapist.

Steingar can only watch, frozen inside of his own body as his mother is violated again and again. The tears stream down his face. He can't even close his eyes.

“It's a shame that you couldn't run away after your father signed you up for the military, what with abandoning your duties being a death sentence; I don't think she would've wanted you to be here." Hirus softly chuckles, watching Steingar's reaction with sadistic glee.

Steingar turns his glowing, golden eyes toward the Vizhek, the rage burning within him like a wildfire. Hirus smiles and leans closer to his victim, all while the sounds of the pirates having their way with Steingar's mother fill their ears.

“Your father was right. Embrace the hate. Learn to love it."

Hirus reaches out a finger, wiping away one of his tears. He looks at the salty droplet on the tip of his finger, his lips curling at the corners as he struggles to contain a laugh. Suddenly, Hirus licks Steingar's tear from his finger.

“Mmm... That's just right." He sighs with relief.

“I'll kill you for this..."

“Ooohh, defiance!" Hirus claps his hands together. “I wonder how long your mother defied them..."

Suddenly, Brynja's screams turn into groans, before morphing again into deep, pleasured moans. Steingar's rage builds as he's forced to watch. He can feel his will breaking. As he stands frozen, seeing Hirus' sickening vision unfolding before him, he silently begs for a reprieve. In that moment, death would be a blessing. Meanwhile, the four women hide behind the tree atop the hill, watching the ancient castle from a distance.

“How're we going to get in?" Jarae asks them.

“We'll need a distraction. A way to get those guards alone to-. Hey!"

Mairlynn walks away from the group, emerging from behind the tree. She turns back and holds up a hand, silencing Kirsta and the others. As she makes her way toward the castle, Mairlynn puts on an act, crying louder and with greater intensity. She approaches the gate, calling out for her mother and father. The guards take notice and approach, but the four men standing atop the wall see her and turn away. The women watch as Mairlynn talks to the guard at the gate, likely spinning a tale about being lost and afraid. He turns around to hang his shield on a peg jutting from the wall, and that's when she strikes.

Pulling her Kris from its sheath, she stabs the man in the back. Striking his kidneys, he's briefly but instantly paralyzed. Falling against the wall, she rushes up and slashes his throat. As he dies on the ground, she looks back toward the tree, motioning to her three companions, who're quite a distance away. They race to catch up to her, while praying that the men on the wall don't turn back and see them. They don't, and they soon stand near the gate as Mairlynn searches the guard's twitching corpse for keys to the wrought iron barricade.

Lutala stands over the body as the women look for the keys. The dead guard, however, doesn't have any. They silently panic, looking amongst each other as they try to decide what to do. Lutala kneels beside the body, and her hands begin to glow with a pale green light. Her salmon eyes with fiery irises roll backward in her head, and the hideous green light glows from her eyeballs, growing brighter and brighter. The unnerved women watch as the Lahnyt, a healer and a priestess for a strange religious order, reveals the true extent of her magical knowledge.

The guard's corpse begins to move, startling the women. Mairlynn gasps and shrieks as the undead man rises to his feet. He looks down at the women, flashing a smile and revealing his bloody maw. Air puffs through the hole in his throat, made by the childlike Falmun's crooked blade. He's thoroughly under Lutala's control.

“Hey, what's going on with that kid? Are you even still here?!" A guard asks as he approaches the ledge. “What the-?!" He peers over.

The undead guard pulls a francisca from a frog on his belt and hurls it, striking the curious man in the chest. He keels over, falling forward and breaking his neck as he strikes the ground. The others call out to him, asking if he's alright. They never saw the small axe sticking out of his chest as he fell over the edge. By the time they've thought of peering over, Lutala has already revived him as well, and the women have caught on to Lutala's plan. The remaining three guards glance over the edge, only to be shot dead by Kirsta and Jarae. They fall over the edge, giving Lutala more corpses to control.

Lutala resurrects all five guards as the women reload their weapons. With the undead rising up before her, Lutala stands to her feet. Staying behind her new minions, the undead gate guard reaches for a wall sconce. He pulls on the sconce, and a chain drops from what otherwise appears to be a darkened machicolation in the overhanging wall. Pulling on the chain, the gate slowly begins to rise.

“How many of those can you control?" Kirsta asks, a hint of fear in her voice.

“I don't know. I've never tried this before, outside of the College."

“We'd better hurry." Jarae says, pushing past the zombies and heading for the opened gateway.

“Wait! Let them go first." Lutala instructs, stopping the Jaliscan.

Using the undead as their muscle, the women follow behind as the zombies slaughter every guard they come across. By the time they've made it fifty meters into the old castle, Lutala's horde numbers a dozen. As they march along, following the risen corpses, they can hear weeping. It's a man's voice.

“Take us to the prisoners." Lutala commands.

Following the guards as they obey their new master, they hack and slash another four guards who protect a cell block. Lutala resurrects them as well. Filling the hallway with the zombies, Roak panics and begs for mercy, while Steingar pays no attention to them. He sits on the floor, curled over and crying as Valan sits beside him. With an arm behind the Helngar's back, it's clear that the human was trying to comfort the weeping warrior. It's a sight that startles the women almost as much as seeing Lutala's necromantic powers. A guard removes his keys, but his broken fingers struggle to unlock the door.

“Give me that." Kirsta snatches the keyring.

“Argh..." The zombie bows his head to her.

Unlocking the cell, Valan rises to his feet and urges Steingar to do the same. He struggles to pull himself together, sniffling and wiping his runny nose with the gray fur of his forearm.

“Valan!"

Jarae rushes into the cell. Unable to control herself, she throws her arms around him and holds him tightly.

“It's good to see you, Jarae... All of you." He replies, hugging her back.

“Where's Irzain?" Kirsta asks, looking around for the Scribe.

“He took him."

“Who?"

“That sick son of a whore!" The weeping Steingar yells. “Hirus, that vile bastard! He's got him!"

“He's trying to use Halcyon to fix his brain. Whatever they want, it's really that important to King Vashalak." Valan adds.

Jarae finally releases him, pulling back and presenting Valan with not only his two, custom-built pistols, but his new harmonica pistol. Though initially frustrated at the sight of the revolutionary weapon in the middle of Hirus' dungeon, Jarae looks up with an innocent smile.

“We need every edge we've got, Val." She sweetly assures him.

He sighs and nods his head, readying the weapon. He looks to Lutala, who's eyes and hands glow a sickly green hue. He scans the sixteen undead guards, some of whom he'd just seen alive only a moment ago.

“I thought you were a healer and a priestess... How is it that you know how to use Haze?" He suddenly asks her.

“How else would I fight evil if I didn't understand it? ... The Yashuvanite College teaches us, so that we may be ready to stare down evil, and triumph."

“Makes sense, I guess..." Mairlynn murmurs.

“Come on. We need to find Irzain." Kirsta remarks.

“He's down the hall." Valan points.

“With that sick bastard!" Steingar roars.

The zombies begin their march, weapons and shields ready as they prepare to storm Hirus' dungeon. Steingar and Valan ready their weapons as well, while Jarae, Mairlynn and Kirsta follow behind Lutala. Roak races toward the bars of his cage, grabbing onto the wrought iron rods and pressing his face between them.

“Are you killing the bad man?! Killing Hirus! Hirus won't need his toys if he's dead!" Roak pleads.

“Who's he?" Kirsta looks back at the men.

“He's some poor soul that Hirus has been torturing. He's... Unstable."

“Please! Roak is good! Roak is scared of the dark place!" He exclaims.

Kirsta watches him for a moment, her heart breaking at the pathetic sight. She remembers a man who once lived in her clan, a simple-minded man who was cared for by the entirety of her people. He had the mannerisms of a child, and when Kirsta was little, she often played with the man. When she was barely a teenager, he died of a fever. It was the first death to truly affect Kirsta. Taking a breath, she lifts the keys. Roak's eyes light up.

“Wait! He's-"

“I don't care. We're not leaving him here." Kirsta interrupts Valan.

He nods his head, conceding to her will. Opening the cage, Roak races forward and promptly hugs Kirsta. Rather than burst with anger, she surprises everyone by petting his back in a motherly fashion.

“Oh, thank you! Roak is not a toy! You make Roak smile! HEHEHE! Roak will be good!" He shakes with joy.

“You're safe now, Roak." She coos. “Come on." She turns to the others. “Let's get Irzain and get the hell out of here."

Following their zombie horde, they rush into a room with a solitary table. Pulling Irzain from the table, Hirus tries to drag the barely conscious Scribe away, protected by a handful of heavily armored guards. They clash with the zombies as Hirus struggles to drag Irzain along. For as tall as he is, the wiry Vizhek doesn't appear very strong. No sooner that Irzain begins to awaken, he fights back. Pulling away, Hirus struggles with his prize, trying to drag him into a secret tunnel that was hidden behind a fake wall. Punching Hirus in the stomach, he leans forward in pain, only to have his nose broken by the Scribe, who then scrambles away.

Reaching the skirmish, he's swiftly surrounded by the zombies, which protect him from the armor-plated hands of the elite guards. They whisk him away, where's he's reunited with his companions, joined by Lutala, and a strange human suffering from mental fatigue. Hirus' guards retreat, aiding in the torturer's escape. As the survivors run away, the zombies halt their attack. With Lutala controlling them, they escort them back to the gate. Upon reaching the gate, however, Lutala reveals her limits; she grows weak from the sheer number of zombies she'd revived and controlled.

No sooner than they step into the open air, fleeing the dank dungeon, Lutala falls to her knees and the zombies collapse in a heap, released from her will. Steingar, finally pulling himself together, scoops the Lahnyt into his arms. Roak joins in, carrying her tapering tail as if it were the end of a long wedding gown. They make their escape, racing through the field as fast as they can. After what feels like an eternity, they make it back to the harbor. The rider that Lutala had spotted returns to the castle, accompanied by a wagon plated with iron. The riders spot the group, and the man on horseback immediately recognizes Steingar.

“Hey! That's them! They're escaping!" He shouts.

The rider and the wagon turn toward them as they race into the harbor. With a small gate, not big enough for the wagon, let alone the rider's horse, they dismount, shouting and sounding the alarm. Scores of soldiers emerge from their posts, and some from other ships, just as the crew dash across the gangplank and board the Arona-Dahl. Moving fast, they retract the gangplank and release the ropes from the mechanical jaws. Thankfully, Trellan is always watching. His soul controls Arona, activating the steam engine with what little fuel they have left, and backing out of the harbor. It's a feat that few ships could ever duplicate, even under perfect conditions.

As the Arona-Dahl turns and lurches, the crew slide back. Roak shivers and scrambles for the nearest mast, startled by the sudden motion. The sails unfurl on their own, shocking the soldiers as they stand on the docks, watching the crew escaping yet again. With the steam engine roaring to life, the Arona-Dahl powers through the harbor and toward the open ocean, passing by a familiar ship. Standing on the deck, Captain Kristoff Mayweather watches with wide eyes.

“Prepare the cannons!" He shouts.

“Yes, sir!"

By the time his minion turns to give the order, the ship is already passing them by, moving at blistering speed.

“Never mind! Raise the anchors! We need to follow them!" Captain Mayweather commands.

“But... We have soldiers ashore! Those men you sent to report to Chief-General Icefang!"

“I know that! They'll be fine, now do as I say!" Captain Mayweather demands. “I'm not letting them get away again."

“Yes, sir!"

His underling races to give the order, and soon they lift the anchors and unfurl the sails. The wind catches the cloth and the Sloop Of War begins to move. They'd ridden the edge of the storm, racing back to the capital city faster than they ever thought possible, now they just need to keep up with the strange ship. Captain Mayweather grabs the wooden railing as he stands at the bow, watching the Arona-Dahl as she shrinks. She's already cleared a considerable distance. He squeezes the rails and grits his teeth.

“We'll follow them to the end of the world if we have to..." He growls to himself.