Darkness had settled over the long, ash-gray branches.
A timid shaft of light pierced the dense canopy overhead, while the lake shimmered quietly, lending an illusion of peace to the mysterious clearing hidden deep within the heart of the forest.
A small wooden cabin stood at its edge, wrapped in thick roots and nearly swallowed by climbing vines. An axe remained embedded in a chopping block. Leaves had gathered before the doorway, and clothes hung drying from a line.
"I don't know anything about whoever lives in there," Darmakaya said, "but I can already tell you he's insane."
Maynar smiled.
"Maybe I should go."
Everyone looked at him in surprise.
"You?" Arsik asked.
"Yes. Why?"
"I don't know. I just figured you didn't actually do anything."
Maynar sighed.
"If the rest of you walk in there, you'll scare the poor soul half to death. A... gentler presence might make him a little more cooperative."
"That's not the worst idea I've heard," Kalden admitted.
Arsik shrugged.
Maynar approached the cabin, knocked twice, then stepped back.
Something shifted inside.
Kalden thought he saw movement behind the grimy window.
The door creaked open.
A young man emerged, thin as a scarecrow, with long, filthy black hair hanging around his face.
"Who are you?"
He looked less frightened than disoriented.
His eyes darted left and right far more quickly than they should have.
Smiling warmly, Maynar tried to meet his gaze.
"My name is Maynar. I'm a bard."
He gestured toward the others behind him.
"And these are... my companions."
The word felt strangely awkward as he pointed them out one by one.
"We'd just like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."
"What kind of questions? And how did you know where to find me?"
For a brief moment, panic flashed across the man's face.
Maynar immediately tried to calm him.
"We're not here to hurt you. You have my word. We're only looking for information."
He smiled reassuringly.
"What's your name?"
"You know where I live..." the man muttered. "But you don't know who I am?"
"I'm afraid not."
"...Did she send you?"
Darma felt something stir inside him.
"She?" he growled.
As he stepped forward through the darkness, his wings became visible.
The man recoiled in terror, nearly stumbling backward.
"What is that?! Who are you? Demon! Get him away from me! She found me! Oh, gods... she found me!"
Darma lowered his head with a weary sigh, as though he had expected exactly that reaction.
"He's not a demon," Maynar assured him. "He's incredibly rude—and plenty of other unpleasant things—but he isn't a demon. Try to ignore the wings."
Offering his hand once more, he helped the trembling man back to his feet.
"What's your name, friend?"
"...Tendis."
"Tendis."
Maynar smiled.
"That's a start. Will you hear us out?"
Tendis hesitated.
It didn't take him long to realize he had very little choice.
None of these men had traveled all this way only to leave empty-handed.
"...Come in."
Kalden added more logs to the fireplace.
It was the only welcoming corner of the miserable cabin.
Outside, the forest roared.
Night birds called in the distance, joined by the cries of unseen beasts.
Yet something darker seemed to linger around them, clinging to the four corners of the room itself.
A shadow hung over the weary young man seated opposite the travelers.
"I was a guard..." Tendis finally began after much patient coaxing from Maynar and even greater patience from everyone else.
"I served alongside about twenty others at Dyran's manor, up in the mountains near Lyria."
"My service lasted nearly six months before..."
No one interrupted.
Tendis stared into an empty corner of the room as though something unseen waited there in the darkness.
"Who is Dyran?" Kalden asked.
"A mage."
"I don't know where he came from. His estate is enormous. He has more money than the barons of Lothen... and powerful friends everywhere."
"What makes you say that?" Maynar asked.
"Because without connections..." Tendis swallowed.
"...no one could have done the things Dyran did."
"The things he made us do."
Something in those words awakened a memory within Arsik.
Something inside him always stirred whenever he heard of people being forced to act against their will.
"And what exactly did he make you do, Tendis?" Maynar asked gently.
Darma watched in silence.
For the first time, he realized the bard's approach was working.
A quiet respect began to grow within him.
"Some tasks were simple," Tendis said.
"Gathering ingredients in the forest."
"He called them catalysts."
"Supplies for his rituals."
He paused.
"But others..."
"They were harder."
"He sent us into villages."
"At night."
"To dig in the graveyards."
Silence settled over the cabin.
The travelers exchanged uneasy glances.
Maynar leaned forward.
"Why?"
"He ordered us to carry the villagers' corpses back to the manor."
"He needed them for his rituals."
"They weren't catalysts."
"He had another name for them."
"I can't remember what it was."
"He talked to himself while he worked."
"Talked to the corpses."
"As if he expected them to answer."
"He spent hours muttering."
"Sometimes we'd sit outside listening."
"At first we thought he was simply mad."
"Some of the others even laughed."
"But..."
"I knew something was terribly wrong."
"There was always a book."
"It lay open inside the room where we brought the bodies."
His voice grew quieter.
By the final words, he was barely whispering.
At the mention of the book, Darma looked immediately toward Maynar.
"What sort of book was it?" he asked.
"I don't know."
"But..."
"There was something about it."
"It pulled at me."
"I couldn't stop thinking about it."
"It drove me nearly insane."
"Dyran talked like a madman whenever he was alone with the corpses."
"Sometimes he'd say death would never knock at his door..."
"...that their lives hadn't been wasted..."
"...and that soon..."
"...he would finally become what he'd always wanted to be."
Arsik's agitation became impossible to hide.
He paced restlessly around the room before finally shoving the door open and stepping outside.
"What's wrong with you?" Darma called after him.
"Don't talk to me."
"...Become what?" Maynar asked, confused.
Tendis tried to say the word.
He hesitated.
Outside, Arsik stopped.
Without turning around, he listened.
Then, slowly, he looked back.
"...A lich."
Arsik began to tremble.
Pale frowned, clearly not understanding.
Neither did Kalden.
Maynar went pale.
Only Darma and Arsik truly grasped the weight of that single word.
And of the two...
Only Arsik had ever stood before a lich.
"What's a lich?" Pale asked haltingly.
"An immortal mage," Maynar answered quietly.
"Someone who has cheated death itself and gained eternal life."
Pale looked puzzled.
"Why would anyone want to live forever?"
"How does that help the Brothers?"
"I've seen enough liches in my life!" Arsik shouted.
"I don't want to see another!"
"I don't want another one to exist!"
"There's already one out there!"
"And believe me..."
"He didn't cheat death."
"He is death!"
The last words broke into a sob.
Tendis began crying in terror.
"Arsik—"
"No! To hell with that!"
"Don't 'Arsik' me!"
"You weren't there!"
"You weren't in the depths of the sea!"
"You didn't see what I saw!"
"I've spent years trying..."
"...for nothing."
His strength abandoned him.
Kalden knelt before Tendis and snapped his fingers to pull the young man back to reality.
"What happened to the book?" he asked.
Tendis swallowed hard.
"I couldn't leave it alone," he confessed.
"One day..."
"Dyran fell asleep."
"That almost never happened."
"I used the key."
"I had access because of the bodies."
"I went inside to steal it."
"Steal it?" Kalden repeated.
Tendis nodded.
"But when I reached for it..."
"I couldn't."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know!"
He broke down crying.
"I wanted to..."
"Or maybe my body wanted to..."
"I just..."
"I couldn't touch it."
"I panicked."
"I heard footsteps."
"So I grabbed a few pages instead..."
"...tore them out..."
"...and ran."
"Why?" Kalden asked.
"I honestly don't know."
"I thought I could sell them."
"I thought they'd be worth money."
"But the truth is..."
"I only wanted the book."
"What happened to the pages?" Maynar asked.
"I sold them."
"Where?"
"To a merchant."
"Vaoros."
"In Nalia."
Darma rubbed his tired eyes.
"We know Vaoros."
"That's not good," Maynar muttered.
"What do you mean?" Kalden asked.
"If two pages caused what we witnessed in Ayaton..."
"...I don't even want to imagine the power contained in the entire book."
"I can imagine it!" Arsik roared, holding up his mutilated hand and pointing at his missing eye.
"Easy, Arsik. We still don't know exactly what the book does."
"He spoke to a woman through it," Tendis whispered.
Every head turned toward him.
Darma pushed past Pale.
"A woman?"
"What woman?"
"It's no time for jealousy, my dear."
The words came from Tendis' mouth.
But the voice...
The voice belonged to a woman.
Everyone recoiled.
Arsik's eyes widened in horror.
"You..."
"We meet again," the voice purred.
Tendis' body slowly rose to its feet.
"Tell me..."
"How is your little girl?"
Something inside Arsik snapped.
His pupils shrank to pinpoints.
He lunged.
The knife plunged into Tendis' stomach.
He drove it deeper...
and deeper...
until its tip burst through the young man's back.
By the time the others dragged Arsik away, Tendis lay dead on the floor.
Arsik screamed incoherently.
Darma stood frozen, his mouth hanging open, still haunted by the voice.
Kalden and Pale hauled Arsik outside.
Maynar remained where he was.
He stared numbly at the corpse.
Tendis lay motionless, eyes wide with terror, forever fixed upon the wall.
What have we become tangled up in?
He looked down.
His trousers were wet.
For the first time in his life...
Maynar knew what true fear felt like.