

The

Blade Witch

Nygel Oglesby

Copyright © 2017 Nygel Oglesby

All rights reserved.

Edited by Michael Rowley

Cover art by Tran Huy

ISBN: 1973807548

ISBN-13: 978-1973807544

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to my family who has always provided me with unconditional love and support.
CONTENTS

Prologue - Page 1

CHAPTER ONE: Sweet Like Holden WinE - Page 23

CHAPTER TWO: The City of No Nights - Page 62

CHAPTER THREE: House of Broken Things – Page 109

CHAPTER FOUR: The God's Blood – Page 138

CHAPTER FIVE: Sins of A Saint – Page 166

CHAPTER SIX: Shadows Beneath The Light - Page 213

Epilogue – Page 251

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A special thank you to my editor Michael Rowley for believing in my work.

Prologue

The world was burning. Tortured shadows danced through the stained-glass windows of the convent, casting wild shadows on the women huddled below. Their prayers to the Twelve Enlightened echoed through the high rafters, combining in a loud hum that failed to drown out the horrid screams cascading all around them. Estra knelt with her eyes clenched shut, reciting passages from _The_ Exaid __ through a soot-choked throat.

Every breath she took brought more of the searing ash into her lungs, turning her vocals into coarse sand. Her knees were stiffened from the hard marble flooring and her fingers ached from clutching nervously at her twelve-pillar pendant. She was blind to her surroundings, but she could still hear the death wails of men meeting with the tormented cries of women just on the other side of the convent walls.

As the seconds passed she wondered when it would be her turn to suffer. Estra had never known fear like this. Her life had been a peaceful one, filled with piety and play at the small place of worship overlooking the city. Tonight, it seemed that all of hell's darkness had been set loose upon her world as repayment for all the years she'd been allowed to live in blissful serenity.

The heretics had come out of nowhere to wreak havoc. The sisters had been conversing in the clifftop gardens overlooking the distant city of Wulfdonria, just like any other day, when fire had come raining down from the sky to scorch the ground and all who stood upon it. In the space of a few moments, Estra had seen the most profane things, the likes of which she'd thought herself forever sheltered from.

She'd watched those that she called friends flail around helplessly, with flames roaring at their backs while the guards rushed them back to the safety of the convent's walls. Through the windows, Estra had watched as the men, women, and children who traveled to the convent for worship were cut down as if they were nothing more than livestock for the slaughter. The faces of the heretics had been too numerous to count, but she would never forget the emblem emblazoned on their coats. A broken pillar, embroidered in crimson, that she would come to know as the mark of heretics.

Estra looked around, taking in the conditions of the other nuns. All of them were distraught, some groaned from the injuries they'd sustained. Worst of it all was the body a girl she'd come to know well, splayed at the foot of the altar in a grotesque posture as if to signify the fall of the holy place.

The moment her eyes met the sight, Estra dropped the pendant, clasping her hands together as a familiar tingling sensation coursed through her palms. The pain came rushing into her head, speaking to her, whispering foreign words with no meaning. Estra struggled to calm the growing tremor in her mind, focusing solely on quieting the whirlwind of thoughts that plagued her. Something clutched at Estra's thigh, causing her to pull away in fear before she looked over and saw her mother favoring her with a sad smile.

The Holy Mother was a beautiful woman with flowing blonde hair and ghost blue eyes that always seemed to shine with kindness. A stark contrast to Estra's jet black tangles and hazel eyes. Every member of the convent referred to her as Mother, but only to Estra had she given birth. Growing up a bastard child in a religious community was never easy, but sadly, it was far from uncommon. It was all too often that sisters became victims when battles raged, only to suffer further when their bellies swelled in the following months. Estra wondered if that same fate might befall her soon.

"Estra," her mother said, reaching for her hands. The other sisters continued praying with their heads bowed, but the Holy Mother's attention was solely on her. The woman didn't shake, nor did her stature falter, but there was something odd about the look in her eyes. They spoke of regret, an emotion Estra had never seen there before. "I've waited too long to-"

The Holy Mother's words were cut off by the ear-splitting crack of shattering wood behind them. Women yelled and sprang to their feet as they turned to face the convent doors. Splits arose down the length of the hardwood barriers from the blow they'd sustained.

The last two guards took up their positions in front of the door as another shaking boom roared through the building. The noise seemed to carry an unseen force with it, causing each of them to stumble back. They all exchanged wide-eyed looks of horror with each other as another strike landed.

Splinters flew amidst the pews where they mingled with the grey clouds that flooded through the damaged doorway, forcing them to shield their eyes and sending up a flurry of ragged coughs. Estra reached out blindly towards her mother, looking for comfort in the same place that she had always found it.

"Estra, listen to me!" her mother yelled with a noticeable desperation pulling at her words. Estra struggled against the sting of the smoke to pry her eyes open. "Enlightened forgive me, I don't have the time to explain more. No matter what happens, you will survive. When this is over, make your way to the Faith in Ridonus. Find a man in Holly Hold named Goffried and tell him what happened here. He'll know what is to be done with you."

Estra opened her mouth to express her confusion, but her words died beneath a defining thunderclap as the convent doors were torn from their hinges. Blood soaked terrors swarmed over the two guards, burying them in an avalanche steel. The sisters dispersed wildly, tripping over pews and trampling each other in a helpless panic.

The heretics ran throughout the hall, clutching at holy women, tearing clothes apart, and swinging their blades with reckless abandon. A muscle-bound brute of a man caught sight of Estra, his mouth spreading with a crooked-toothed grin before he made a mad dash towards her. Estra stood in front of her mother, turning to grab the first thing she could get a hand on. She found herself wielding a heavy-laden candelabrum just in time to wheel around and crush it into the side of the man's head. The impact sent the heretic teetering to the side, crashing into a row of benches before he rolled to the ground.

Estra approached him, makeshift weapon raised once more, only to find him convulsing in a pool of blood. For a moment she stood over him, eyeing the gash she'd left in his crown with a blank stare. The world seemed to slow down as she realized what she'd done. In the space of a few moments, she'd forgotten her vows of pacifism. Her once pure hands would forever be stained in the eyes of the Enlightened. The bronze instrument fell from her shaking hands just as something struck her in the side, knocking the wind from her lungs.

She found herself facing the floor, one hand clutching at her side and the other reaching out to soften her fall. In her pain, the screams around her turned into a loud ringing that muddled the senses. She shook her head, trying to clear her blurred vision as her eyes took in the vague images of the disaster unfolding around her. Among all the atrocities taking place, all she could focus on was her mother, feet thrashing in the air as she was lifted from the ground by the hands of an incredibly gigantic man.

Estra reached out towards her mother only to receive another shattering blow that sent waves of searing pain through her body. This time she felt bone's break as the unseen force passed through her. She felt something inside of her tear and breathing became an instant struggle when the agony of her broken ribs combined with the smoke that was already filling her lungs.

Her attacker approached with care, their footfalls slow and methodical as they took their time to appraise Estra before making themselves visible to her. The person standing in front of her was astoundingly out of place in the surrounding fray. Estra found herself staring up at the ominous figure of an oddly familiar woman donned in an unstained white cloak. Black veins stretched spider-like across the pale woman's face, giving her a near spectral appearance. Looking into the woman's ruby colored eyes, Estra knew without a doubt that she was in the presence of a demon.

The pale woman peered down at Estra, running a thin hand through her snow-white hair. She slowly raised her other hand, garnering a surprisingly immediate reaction from the heretics raiding the convent around her.

At the woman's gesture, a sluggish sensation passed through Estra. As if by divine command, the heretics all stopped going about whatever gruesome task they were pursuing and promptly faced their leader in silence. Even the sisters of the Faith seemed to fall into a quiet daze of obedience.

The sounds of the atrocities taking place outside continued, but the convent had fallen into a hush deeper than even the most reverent of services. The pale woman circled Estra. Her footfalls clapped out an ominous rhythm, as if each step she took within the hallowed convent was a decree of desecration.

"Do I know you?" the woman asked. Her voice was no louder than a whisper, yet it slid into Estra's ears like a snake hungry for its prey.

There was a long pause before Estra realized that the woman was waiting for an answer to come from her. Whatever the demon wanted to hear, Estra didn't know how to give it. "Please, just let my mother go," Estra's voice came out in a whimper, but she was far beyond any sense of pride at the moment.

She knew that her pleading wasn't the answer that the woman was looking for, but it was all she could think of as she watched her mother's face grew redder by the moment in the hands of the bearded giant that held her.

"Hmm," The woman turned to regard the holy mother for a moment before turning back to Estra. "I won't be able to do that. But I am a bit pressed for time, so I'll tell you what I am capable of. If you would be so kind as to answer my question truthfully, then I may just allow you to live. Is that satisfactory?"

Estra's mouth hung open, at a loss for words. She 'd always heard stories that warned against the faults of making deals with devils, but in the face of true fear, Estra found that she was no less vulnerable than all the rest. "I don't... No, we've never met before," Estra said, stammering. "Please, my mother-"

"Thank you," The red-eyed woman said, cutting off her words with nothing more than another hand gesture. The heretic leader turned towards the big man with a curt nod. He set the Holy Mother on the ground almost tentatively, allowing her to suck in a few deep breaths before he dug his thick fingers into her hair and dragged her over to his master.

"Much appreciated Dost," the woman said, facing the holy mother. "This girl does not lie with her claims of knowing nothing, but surely you remember me, Jennah? I admit that my appearance may have changed quite a bit over the years," The woman smiled, revealing twin rows of serrated teeth. "But surely you can't have forgotten? Surely you recall what you and the others did?"

The holy mother's face twisted in disgust as the demon leaned in closer to her. She tried to pull away, only to scream in pain as the big man wrenched her neck back in place. "Helena, there's no reason for you to do this," the holy mother cried out, her voice seeping with desperation. "I tried to stop them. You know I did."

A chill ran through Estra as she listened to the exchange between the two women. She didn't understand how her mother could know such a person. Estra's mind reeled at the thought of her mother and this vile creature having some sort of history together. It immediately became apparent that there was something deeper between the two of them than Estra couldn't comprehend.

"Yes, you did try, didn't you?" Helena said with a cackle that sounded like the clicking of a beetle's legs in a glass jar. "You tried, and you failed. That alone I could excuse you for, but remind me how it is that I ended up a victim in the first place," Helena spread her arms wide, allowing the dark veins that crawled from her eyes to spread down her clenched neck and crawl their way up her wrists. "Please, for the sake of all these devout followers of the Enlightened, speak aloud how a desperate girl was tricked into sacrificing what was most precious to her and then discarded as if she were nothing more than pig shit."

Estra's mother stood with her mouth agape, incapable of finding her words. The holy mother's gaze shifted from the monstrous figure in front of her to her daughter. There was a silent plea in her mother's eyes. It bespoke of a guilt that could have only been born of the most grievous sins.

"I'm so sorry Estra," her mother whimpered with a stream of tears rolling down her face.

"Oh no, don't be mournful. Be proud of yourself Jennah." Helena reached towards the Holy Mother. The veins lining her palm pulsated with an arcane darkness that devoured what little light remained in the room. "It is because of your deeds that I saw the other side. I have spoken with gods that your faith would seek to call demons, I have given up my very soul to take my vengeance, and I have become truly powerful. Revel before the monstrosity that you created."

Helena's hand sprang forward, clutching her mother's face. The skin beneath the woman's palm steamed, raking screams from the holy mother's mouth. The sorceress smiled as Estra's mother thrashed about helplessly, watching as skin bubbled and peeled away from the bone.

"Stop! Enlightened please!" Estra cried out, her vision blurred with stinging tears. "She's all I have!"

Estra struggled to her feet and lurched towards the sorceress. A blow from the giant man's free fist caught her on the side of the head, sending her sprawling on the floor once again. She clutched at the pain tearing through her side, half-way conscious, watching powerlessly as the gruesome scene unfolded. The horrid stench of melting flesh wafted through the room, mingling with the scent of wood smoke and death. Estra watched in muted silence as the sorceress stole away all that had once made her mother human.

When there was nothing more for her to take, the sorceress snatched her hand away, letting the lifeless body of the Holy Mother crumple to the ground. Estra crawled on hands and knees, heedless of the pain burning through her broken ribs. She took her mother's smoldering head in her lap, shaking her in the hopes of getting some response.

"I've decided to let you live girl. Consider it a kindness for the suffering I've caused you," Helena said standing over her. "However, the man that you killed was Dost's brother, and I would be remiss in my duties if allowed this to go unpunished."

The sorceress turned her red eyes to her giant servant. "He is justified to give you a thorough beating and _nothing_ more," she said pointedly. The brutish man gave a solemn nod in response before Helena returned her attention to Estra. "Though you may not believe me, I'd like you to know that I find no great pleasure in my deeds. I'm simply doing what must be done for the good of us all. I won't go as far as to ask for your forgiveness, but before I take my leave, allow me to share a bit of wisdom with you child."

The sorceress leaned in close enough for Estra to feel the heat of her breath against her cheek. The woman spoke so low that she was nearly inaudible, but there was a strangely earnest tinge in her tone, "All that you have been led to believe is a lie. Your gods are a fallacy and your religion is a delusion. Today you are blinded by the false light that the Faith seeks to veil itself with. If you live long enough you will inevitably come to learn the truth. The darkest shadows hide beneath the brightest of lights."

Estra didn't hear the sorceress's words at all. In the face of realizing that the person who'd raised her with unconditional love was now dead, the world around her had lost its meaning. She was deaf to her own cries of anguish that filled the halls of the convent. Overcome by her suffering, Estra saw nothing that occurred around her as Helena gave the order for her followers to continue going about their pillaging. It was only when Helena departed and the huge man clutched Estra by her neck, that anything seemed to matter. That night became nothing but anguish for Estra. A moment in her life that would forever torment her.

CHAPTER ONE:

Sweet Like Holden Wine

I

The sun smiled down upon the world of Eldrin, flaunting its luminous brilliance across the seven continents below for all to see. Its rays blazed a path through the soft clouds that rolled along lazily throughout the day, streaming down to find their way to the lands of Kanden, and surging across the rocky badlands until they came upon the swathe of green that surrounded the sprawling port city of Wulfdonria. As they came to their destination, they sang a ballad of glee to all those who would look upon their brilliance. These were the cascades of spring that heralded the coming of new life. Under these beams of sunlight, a story began to unfold.

The people of the city were ignorant of the daylight's blessing. They hid beneath the brims of hats and the cowls of cloaks, shielding themselves from the sweltering heat in any way they could. Some chose to conduct their business in dark alleyways, but most entangled themselves within the larger crowd out in the open, flocking towards the ships swaying in the turquoise waters as each person went about their day mechanically.

Amidst the buzzing throng of bodies, a woman moved through with a slight limp to her gait. A tall figure, she walked with her hood clutched tightly over a head bearing coarse tangles of unkempt hair, making sure to hide her scar lined face from any who would happen to look in her direction.

Underneath her cloak, she hid the garbs of an ashah. The twelve-pillar pendant of the Faith swung beneath her shirt, tapping against her chest in tune with her long strides. Though she hid her true nature well, anyone who got close enough could see her mixed heritage. The Ridonian blood of her mother's side did little to mask the strong Asruelian features she'd inherited from the father she'd never met.

That was just one of the ashah's many unique qualities. The amber skin of her left hand was marked with yellowed tattoos shaped into strange symbols, worn rough by her years of training and the many adventures she'd endured. She was still a younger woman, but she moved with the heaviness of a person whose bones were weighted by the burdens of a hard life.

Then there were her eyes. Even beneath the shadows of her hood, unnaturally serpentine eyes gleamed with an unnatural luster of gold that could only be accomplished by arcane means. The woman's pupils traced their way through the flowing stream of bodies, following a path that only one such as her could see. She picked her way through the mob, reflecting on how long it had been since she'd last walked these streets. To her, it almost seemed a lifetime ago.

Wulfdonria was a rapidly changing place, even for somewhere like the continent of Kanden. In times long gone, the city had been an establishment of the Faith, existing under holy law and operating accordingly. Of course, in those times the Faith of the Twelve-Enlightened had been more of a glorified inquisition than a religious institution.

The towering shadow of Ironhold prison loomed in the distance as a reminder of that era, its crumbling spires still rising higher than any structure around it. Once it stood as an emblem of the Faith's unquestionable rule, but that too had decayed when the people made their declaration of independence, bringing an end to the religious oppression and kicking the Faith from their doorstep. Still, even two hundred years later, servants of the Faith weren't usually welcomed, so the servant of the twelve found herself alone on her journey.

Nearing her destination, the ashah veered away from the noise filled cluster of the trade square. She made her way down a dark alley towards a rickety sign marking an indiscriminate doorway as the entrance to a tavern. She stopped with her hand on the door, taking a moment to release the clasp that secured the double-edged sword at her hip in place.

She opened the door slowly, rusted hinges squealing out a long announcement as she made her entry. The conversation of the few huddled patrons died immediately as her footfalls echoed throughout the room. She took a momentary glance at the tavern's only inhabitants; Five haunted looking men circled around a table.

The ashah only looked at them for an instant, but it was long enough to catch sight of what she was searching for. They passed around a bag filled with powder that made their eyes redden as they sniffed it. Chips were arranged on a _Queen's Tower_ board, though they'd lost all interest in the game. On each of their chests was the same marking that she knew she'd find in this place. It was nothing more than the simple image of a pillar broken off at the base, but to those who understood its meaning, it symbolized so much more.

To her, it stood for everything that she hated in this world. The broken pillar was the mark of heretics and criminals. The Faith held them responsible for spreading vile rhetoric and turning the ears of the faithful away from the wisdom of the Twelve Enlightened Ones. The ashah cared nothing about that though. Even though it was her duty as a servant of the Faith to hunt down the evils of Eldrin, her interest in these men stemmed from a more personal matter.

She looked from the scraggly group hunched over their drinks, to the person standing behind the bar. This she found to be an even more curious sight. Instead of the gruff middle-aged man she expected to find running every tavern, there was an unkempt girl who was likely too young to drink herself, much less attend to others.

"Looking for a brew?" the girl asked warily, her hands roaming the depths of a mug with a cleaning cloth.

The ashah looked down at the thin girl, reaching into her shirt to pull out her chain. She watched as the server's eyes widened in recognition as they met the symbol of the Faith's protectors.

"I'm looking for a person," she said flatly.

The serving girl's eyes flickered over to the shoddy looking men. The ashah could see the silent signal in them. Even more, she could feel the harmful intent in the air build until it was thick enough to cut.

Chairs scraped behind her as the patrons rose to their feet. The tension in the room spiked instantaneously. The ashah found herself all alone, surrounded by enemies, but there was no measure of unease within her. Just as she could feel the maliciousness of these people, she could sense the other emotion that battled within them. It was a pure unabashed fear directed solely at her, and it was well warranted.

"Your friends here would be wise to leave this conversation between two women a private one," the ashah said with a twinge of hoarseness to her voice as she raised a calloused hand.

A soft yellow light danced on her fingertips and slowly grew into a burning flame of arcane power for all to witness. To others, this sight would have surely been a spectacle to behold, but in the eyes of her current company, it was the most dreaded display that they could have the misfortune of observing.

Any in their line of work would know what they were seeing. They'd all heard of the golden flames that could consume the souls of the wicked while doing no harm to the woman from whence they were born. They knew that she carried a sword of starsilver that had cut through the hearts of the most heinous of the Faith's enemies. They'd all heard of the phantom who hunted down heretics no matter how infamous their reputation or how far they fled.

"Who are you?" the server whispered, her ignorance making it clear to the ashah that the girl wasn't as close to the heretics as she'd initially thought.

The nervous quiver in the girl's voice tugged at the corners of the ashah's mouth, almost betraying her grim expression with a smile. "I'm just a woman who appreciates fine wines and not being interrupted by unwanted company," she said, making sure to add a sinister undertone to her words. "Now, I suggest your companions run along while you and I have a little chat."

She turned to face the men, smelling the strong scent of piss wafting from one of them. "No doubt they'll want to scamper and tell their mistress of my arrival?" she suggested, letting the smirk she'd been suppressing finally show on her face. "I've been looking forward to my little reunion with Helena for a good deal of time now."

The men looked at each other, each of them as unsure as the last before they turned and stumbled their way through the door. The ashah stifled a chuckle as she watched them scramble away. They'd be returning soon enough, no doubt in greater numbers, but by then she would hopefully have the answers she needed.

II

"Such a paltry bunch Helena's put together for herself," the ashah said, turning back towards the serving girl. "But what kind of loyalty can someone expect from people like you?"

The girl raised her hands in surrender, backing away from the counter with measured steps. "I'm not with the broken pillars miss. Least not by choice. I serve them drinks is all, I let them use the place for their meetings, and I let them..." The girl trailed off, looking away with a mixture of disgust and shame. She didn't say the words, but the ashah knew what the girl meant.

"You let them use you when the need strikes them," the older woman finished, stating what the girl was trying so hard to omit. She clenched her fist, suffocating the hungry flames in her hand. The broad-shouldered woman bore an innumerable amount of ways of getting the truth from someone, but she didn't need any of those to tell what this girl was thinking. The ashah could see the suffering displayed plainly on her tensed face. It came from a dark place that she was all too familiar with, having been there herself in times past.

"So that's the way of it then?" the ashah asked. She knew it wasn't her place to pry, but as a servant of the Faith, it was her duty to help the less fortunate, even when she clearly wasn't wanted. "A man named Banor owns this place correct? Your father I'm guessing? I suppose he was forced into an agreement where if he didn't meet their demands they'd beat him to death, assault you in front of him before he died, and burn down the tavern for good measure?" Her words were blunt, but they were honest. That was the only way she knew how to deal with people anymore.

The girl didn't look her in the eyes, instead only giving an almost imperceptible nod. "Something like that miss."

"Of course, it's something like that," The ashah said with a frown. "How else would Helena do her business?" She didn't want to chastise the girl, but if she didn't get a solid understanding in this poor child's head now, then who would? "Listen, I don't know what kind of man your father is, but I do know that he's a fool if he thought he stood anything to gain by bargaining with devils. What he should have done is called in the services of the Faith immediately, or maybe even the damned United if he had any sense."

"We didn't have a choice!" The girl cried out, slamming a tiny fist on the countertop.

A crow who'd taken roost in the darkness of the rafters squawked at the outburst. The black bird took a short flight across the room to reposition itself in the windowsill near the tavern's entrance. Both the ashah and the server watched it for a moment before the girl went on at a whisper.

"No one cares about the smallfolk like us," the girl said. "Pa went to the Faith and all they did was promise to send help that never came, and the United didn't even respond to his letters, even for all their talk of a peacefully unified Eldrin. We didn't have many options. Helena's taken over the city's government and the only people left standing against her are the guardsmen and the resistance. Pa tried to stand up to Helena, but..."

The girl choked on her words as she dredged up painful memories. The ashah could see the trembling in her shoulders and for the first time, she caught sight of the bruises lining the girl's thin wrists. She cursed herself for her lack of compassion, inhaling a long breath of humid air as she tried to come up with a solution that would benefit both the girl and her own mission.

"I apologize for the Faith's absence in the matter, but you should know that they did send someone," the ashah explained. "Goffried happens to be a very busy man though, so I've decided to come as a sort of temporary stand-in."

"And how can you help us?" the girl hissed, her stormy eyes flickering up accusingly. "People like you are only good for gallivanting around causing more trouble for the smallfolk you leave behind to clean up your mess."

"You ask how I can help you?" the ashah said cocking her head to the side the way a confused puppy would. A flash of light engulfed the room as a silver shard slid through the air projected by arcane force. An ear curdling shriek rang out as the crow fell from the window, thrashing around for a moment before it fell still.

The ashah walked over and plucked the sorceress's watcher from the floor. The bird's plumage began to grey and fall away, its body shriveling up until it revealed itself to be nothing more than a long-dead corpse reanimated to ensure the serving girl remained under constant guard. The ashah tossed the dead watcher onto the counter, causing the girl to jump back startled.

"I can do a lot more than you think," the ashah said walking back over to the bar.

"How did you know what it was?" the girl asked in astonishment, looking down at the creature that had surveyed her every movement, prying on her every word. The girl's tone was much less restrained, but where there had been the paranoia of being under endless watch, there was now the terror of someone who was unsure of whether they would be punished or not.

"I know many things girl," the ashah said, pulling her hood back to reveal the arcane eyes she kept hidden beneath. She ignored the girl's stare, reaching over the counter to grab the nicest bottle the establishment seemed to have at its disposal. The green glass was of a familiar kind to her that brought back jovial summertime memories. It was the sweet taste of the land she'd come to know as home. A decadent selection procured from the wineries of Holden and expertly fermented back on the continent of Roehara.

"Now, I'll see what I can do to help with your situation, but first you'd do well to tell me what I want to know," the ashah said, peering into the girl's stormy eyes, her hand roaming the countertop in a hopeless attempt to find a clean mug. "Where can I find the sorceress?"

The girl's mouth hung open wordlessly, paralyzed by the lifeless bundle of feathers resting in front of her. She looked as if she expected it to rise at any moment. The ashah clenched her jaw, trying her best to keep the thought of her shortening time limit from upsetting her temper.

"I would like an answer now please, if you have one," The ashah urged before deciding to forego a cup entirely, biting down on the cork to pull it free.

"I don't know," the girl stammered. "They never tell me anything. They just come in to collect my blood and leave, though they aren't always gentle about it."

The ashah took a long gulp, relishing the feel of the cool liquid on her cracked lips as she weighed the girl's words. She was obviously telling the truth, that much she knew, but there was also the nagging itch of something else being withheld from her.

"What in dark hell do they need your blood for?" the ashah asked. When she realized the girl wasn't going to provide her with an answer, she continued her line of questioning. "Okay, so you don't know where the defiler is ... but you know someone who does, don't you?" The ashah _'s_ statement was more of an accusation than a question. The girl gave her answer away on her face before she could think to hide it. "Tell me where to find this person and I'll make sure you get somewhere safe."

The girl shook her head. "But my pa-"

"Girl, I could give a pig's arse about your father," the ashah cut her off flatly. "Listen, I've got a few tokes on me, I'll give you twenty silvers and a little extra to pay for the drink. Should be enough for you to get on the first boat out of this place. You can go anywhere you want and still have enough for a good start to a new life."

"No," the girl said, shaking her head in frustration. "You don't understand. Pa was with the resistance and their leader is the only one who knows where Helena's hideout is."

The ashah pulled the bottle away from her face, her forehead creasing as she tried to work out what the girl had just told her. "So, you're saying that if I want to find the sorceress, I'm going to have to have to find the leader of the resistance. To do that, I'm going to have to save your father first?" She looked down at the girl with squinted eyes before sliding the wine to the side with a sigh. "Sorry to tell you, but she likely had him killed the moment her watcher saw me walk in."

The girl's eyes widened for a second before her face fell into a deep sulk. "She couldn't have," there was an unnerving sadness carrying behind her words. "Even she can't get to where Pa is."

The ashah couldn't help but laugh at the thought of a fortress capable of keeping Helena the Defiler out. She'd seen castles fall to that woman's hands with not a man, woman, or child spared. The thought of there being somewhere in the city that she couldn't reach was nothing more than an absurd fantasy. "Well then, just tell me where this mystical fortress is, and I'll throw on my shining armour and go save your father for you."

The girl glowered at the woman's jest. The look on her face made it plain that the ashah had overstepped her boundaries. "He's dead."

The ashah's mouth opened and snapped shut again before she could comprehend what she'd just been told. "The fuck do you mean he's dead? How in dark hell am I supposed to speak to a man that's already buried?"

Her annoyance with the girl's antics was growing quickly. The ashah's warning incantation was signaling the approach of more heretics in the distance and her patience was already thinner than her timeframe.

"You don't get what I'm saying," the girl said. "If you want to find the sorceress, you'll need to find the resistance. Their a real secretive bunch. A small group working in the shadows. The only way for you to get close to them is to be with someone they already trust. After Pa died, the resistance leader took it upon himself to make sure I was taken care of as much as he could. Contact with him has been rare lately, but he's just about the only friend I've really got. Put simply, my Pa can't lead you to them, but I can."

The girl's eyes almost pleaded with her. As she mulled over the offer the ashah caught sight of the glyph tattooed behind the girl's ear. Just as with her own hand, it was a glyph of the ancient language, the God's Tongue, that marked her as one of Asruelian decent. An oddly rare thing to find so far from the homeland, and yet the ashah knew it was this that had brought her here. Like a badger's nose led it to honey, her blessing of the sight had shown her the path to this girl, and surely there was a reason for that.

The ashah's brow furrowed even further with deep lines of thought. "So, you want to tag along with me then? Why not just take the money and run? The heretics are cleared out and your watcher is gone. Doesn't look like you've got much left here anyway."

The girl clenched her fists tightly enough for her entire body to shake. "They took too much from me. _She_ took everything I cared about. Made me a prisoner. I can't just walk away with nothing. I need something, anything, in return."

The ashah's breath stopped mid-inhale. She looked at the girl, only just now realizing how close in age they really were. She was a thin little thing, but she couldn't have been any younger than seventeen or eighteen years of age, even then she'd obviously been through more than most would endure in their lifetime.

The girl looked up at the woman, a mutual understanding exchanging between them. Within the girl, the ashah could see part of herself reflected. That was all she needed to force a decision.

"Closure then? That's what you want," the ashah said, nodding as she turned towards the door. "Fine then, if that's the only way for me to reach the Defiler, then you'll be my companion for the time being," the ashah looked around, taking in every corner of the tavern's interior. "If we're going to be traveling together, then it's probably fitting that I at least know your name, right?"

"My name is Valency," the girl said. " _Valency Rha_ Kaseth."

"A _Rha?_ So, you bear an Asruelian blessing then?"

"Apparently," the girl answered. "I wasn't born on in the motherland, so I don't know much about my tribe. I don't even know what my blessing is supposed to be, but it's not something as obvious as your eyes are."

"That's a shame. Blessings are powerful things once they reveal themselves. Might have made you somewhat useful to me," the ashah said, pausing to trace a symbol in the dust that covered one of the taverns few tables. "Your name's too long though. I'll call you Val if that's fine with you."

"Pa used to call me Lency," the girl offered hesitantly.

"Well, I guess he thought your name was lengthy as well," the ashah quipped while unsheathing her sword. "Fine, Lency it is then."

"What about your name miss?" Lency asked with a faltering hint in her voice.

The ashah turned to face the girl, a wicked smile spreading her cheeks wide. "Oh, I've got many names. In Iss I'm known as Winter's Wisp, to the People of the Ash I'm the Grey Maiden, my Asruelian name is Sannishka _Rha Glo_ , and the Faith designates me as ashah one-nine-nine-six."

Lency's mouth puckered in confusion. "So, what name do you prefer to be called by then?"

The ashah laughed, opening her palm to call forth her golden flames once more. "I prefer the name that my enemies call me by," She walked towards the door, just as the group of heretics on the other side came close enough for her to hear their boots stamping on the street outside. "Estra the Blade Witch."

III

The door tore free from its hinges, sending a cloud of dust scattering throughout the room. The first heretic through the threshold was a hefty redheaded woman whose hair turned a radiant shade of blonde as Estra's released the full force of her magic into the woman's face. The ones following behind the burning woman leaped over her body, careless of their fallen comrade as they closed in on Estra.

"Stay behind the bar," Estra quickly threw over her shoulder to Lency. A surprisingly swift axe blow came down at her, making her slip the side and returning the strike with a slash of her own that took off the man's hand at the wrist.

While he was bent over staring at his new stump, Estra went at the others with full force. Her blade danced through the air, slashing and stabbing with practiced precision as she fought off her attacker's strikes. Even with all her years of hard training, all Estra could do with a sword alone against this many was defend herself. Sadly, for them, she was far more than just a swordswoman.

Estra parried another furious blow, releasing a blast of shattering force into a man who'd overreached his stab. The arcane force crushed through his ribs and sent him flying back into another one of his companions in a disheveled heap. Estra didn't allow the rest a moment to regain their composure. She swept her hand once more, sending a table flipping end over end towards them.

The solid oak clipped one of them in the side and took her slower friend in the head before it came to a rest against the far wall. Estra pressed her attack quickly, finishing off the injured woman before ducking into a spin that carried her under the axe cut of another and using the momentum to carry her own blade through.

By the time she jumped to her feet the man who'd fallen under his companion had freed himself and approached her from behind. Estra barely dodged the man's strike, taking a deep cut as she sprang out of the way. Flames engulfed her entire arm as blinding pain went roaring up from her shoulder.

Estra wheeled around to face the last man with an outstretched palm that carried enough power to burn down the tavern and everything in it. Just before she made the unwise decision of scorching the man to ash, a loud crash sounded and her attacker crumpled to the ground with a piece of green glass jutting from his neck.

Estra looked down at the man in confusion as he desperately tried to stop the leak in his neck. She knew from a glance that his efforts were hopeless. His artery had been opened and that would be the end of him.

Estra looked up at Lency with an appreciative nod, but the girl didn't even notice her anymore. She stood blanked faced over the man with the broken wine bottle in her hands. In an instant, the girl's face went from shocked, to hateful.

Lency raised the bottle high above her head and brought it down on the man's teeth with enough force to cause an explosion of emerald and ivory. Still, she wasn't satisfied. She mounted the man, striking down at him repeatedly until there was nothing left of the bottle to hit him with. When she no longer had an object to use, she struck him with her fists, careless of the glass shards that dug into her knuckles.

Estra watched on for a moment while the girl beat down on the man with everything she had. She reached out towards Lency as if to stop her, but couldn't find it within herself to claim that the girl was at fault. If she'd had the chance to do the same to those who'd tortured her, Estra knew she would be no different.

She gritted her teeth against the pain of her shoulder, muttering the God's words of healing as she strode over to the window to peer into a dim alleyway that held no visitors. Estra stopped her mending for a moment to call forth a quick warding spell for the arrival of more heretics before she sat and waited for Lency to tire out. It was only when her hands trembled from elbow to fingertip that the girl rose from the floor.

Estra looked down at the man, wondering what he'd done to the girl to deserve such ire from her. She walked over to Lency and grabbed her by the hands. "Best if we get these healed up quickly," Estra said, completely overlooking the scene that had just transpired. Her palms warmed around the girl's shaking fingers, soothing her hands with a soft aura. The specks of glass fell to the floor like minuscule raindrops as the wounds they left behind began to thin out.

When she was done, Estra held the girl by the shoulders, looking for a smart-arsed jest to lighten the mood before she saw the expression on the girl's face. It was a cold one; the kind of dead visage she'd seen others make many times after they kill their first man. This girl was not only experiencing the reality of her deed, but a mixture of virulent emotions that Estra could only guess at.

Estra pulled the girl's face into her chest just as her uncontrolled sobbing erupted. The tears soaked through faster than Estra would have thought possible. Lency's hands gripped her cloak, muddling her once pristine whites with angry scars of crimson.

She stood there in a tavern with bodies strewn about the floor and a woman still dying at their feet, holding a girl that she'd only just met. Sunlight found its way into the dark ally, slanting a path through the open windows to highlight the strange scene within the tavern. The cooing of city pigeons on the rooftops above drowned out Lency's muffled cries.

Estra ran a hand through the girl's dark hair, ignoring the burning in her arm as she tried to comfort her. She didn't know the right words to say. Providing assistance to others was commonplace for her, but giving true comfort was a practice well out of her capabilities.

She recalled the many times her mother had soothed her before she was torn from the world that she had once known. All she could think to say was the same thing she herself had always been told in moments like these.

"Don't fret child," Estra whispered softly. "All will be well in time."

CHAPTER TWO:

The City of No Nights

#

I

The slums were the part of town that everyone who didn't live there liked to pretend didn't exist. The once cobbled streets had long since fallen out of repair, turning into paths of caked mud that pulled at Estra's feet with every step. She followed behind Lency, keeping a close eye on both the girl and anyone who hazarded a look in their direction. A hand resting lightly on the pommel of her sword made it clear what they would get if they tried anything.

So far, Lency had provided her with a good deal of information on the current state of Wulfdonria. Helena the Defiler and her broken pillar heretics had given up their world tour of wanton chaos and heresy spreading to return to the city nearly a year ago. Helena had quickly begun working her way to the top of the criminal underworld and once she had that firmly within her grasp she'd used bribes, blackmail, threats, and every other means at her disposal to overtake Wulfdonria's government. The only true opposition she'd met along the way had come from the city's guard captain.

Heston had proven to be a man of unshakable character, going as far as to declare the Guardsmen an independent force, solely devoted to ridding the city of its newfound corruption. They funded themselves by rounding up a protection tax from the city's citizens, by force if necessary. This tactic was working for the time being, but it didn't exactly put them in the good graces of the citizens. Still, the guardsmen patrolled Wulfdonria's streets night and day, making it as difficult as possible for Helena's followers to go about their tasks.

On the other hand, was the resistance. Due to some long-standing feud between the guard captain and the resistance leader, the two groups maintained a hostility towards each other that often got more violent than their disputes with the heretics.

While the guardsmen did their best to maintain order in the streets, the resistance did their best to strike back in the shadows. The small group stirred up the criminal underworld, hindering the Defiler's progress as they worked towards some goal that Estra could only guess at. She didn't have much solid information about the resistance and its motives, but if they were her fastest path to the Defiler's doorstep, then Estra was fine with stomaching her unease for a while longer.

"You sure this is the best place for us to be right now?" Estra asked, once again questioning the girl's sense of both wisdom and direction.

"Where would you rather go?" Lency asked. "No chance of us finding Brennan until night falls and staying out on the streets with the broken pillars after us would be a death sentence."

Estra avoided stepping in a pile of feces that she didn't want to guess the origins of. The girl was right of course. Whatever her experiences, she'd come away with an appreciable amount of urban survival skills that Estra was increasingly finding herself lacking in. Hunting a cult of backwoods demon worshippers was one thing, but navigating the inner workings of a large-scale city where human contact was nearly unavoidable had proven to be an area that Estra was woefully out of depth in.

"Yeah, but who's to say the people here won't just take our tokes and go right to Helena with our location?" Estra pointed out.

Lency stopped in front of a rickety building that slumped tiredly to the side, leaning on its supports as if it were more drained than the sundried beggars lining the alleyways around it. She approached a boy playing with a badly whittled toy knight on the front steps, whispering something in his ear that made him spring to his blackened feet and scurry into the home.

"The people here have suffered under Helena more than anyone," Lency said, turning back to Estra. "With all the elites of the city in her pockets, the guard captain is the only one bold enough to stand against the Defiler, but even he's made it apparent that he doesn't give a shit about the slums. Guess he doesn't see a point in guarding an area where everyone's too poor to pay the protection tax. The way I see it, that makes him just as bad as the sorceress."

"Lucky enough for us, Helena doesn't seem to find any value in the slums either," Lency said, tapping her foot impatiently as they waited. "That makes it resistance territory by default and that means the people here are more than happy to help anyone who's a friend of the resistance."

"And why is that?" Estra asked.

"Because the resistance leader is the only one helping them," Lency answered. "Last I'd heard from Pa, Brennan is trying to put a team of sorts together. A group of people who can take down the Defiler once and for all," she looked Estra up and down. "From what I've seen, I think he'd be glad to have you."

The sound of heavy footfalls ringing out on rotting wood turned the women's attention back to the doorway. A raggedy, musclebound man appeared in the doorway, wearing a torn shirt and oversized patchwork pants that half-hid the little boy hiding behind him.

"Can I help the two of you lasses?" The man asked, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of Estra.

"I hope that you can sir," Lency said, sporting her best smile. "A good friend of mine once told me that if I ever found myself in trouble I should search for a flaming rose," she paused for a moment, eyeing the small painting displayed above the entryway. "He said it's a symbol of those in support of our cause. You see, it just so happens that my friend and I find ourselves in need of a place to hold up at until nightfall..."

She trailed off, letting her meaning sink in. The man crossed his tattooed arms, ignoring Lency entirely as he entered a staring contest with Estra that the Bade Witch knew he'd lose.

A grumble from behind the man interrupted their match of wills. The three of them looked at the boy who stood frowning down at his stomach. The man let out a defeated sigh, wiping a hand across his forehead.

"Fine, you can stay the night, but I've got a price," he said.

"Of course," Lency said, still smiling warmly. "What would that be?"

"Fifty tokes and nothing less," the man said, not taking as much as a moment to think it over.

"Fifty?" Estra frowned. "We could find an inn in the trader's district for nearly half the price."

"Then go stay there," the man shrugged.

Estra balled her hand into a fist, taking a step towards the man before Lency blocked her path.

"No need for that, I actually prefer the slums," Lency said digging her hand into a deep pocket. "People here are more earnest. You're just as likely to get gouged anywhere in Wulfdonria as you are in the next," she gave the man a pointed look. "At least when someone here does it, they're doing it to feed their family, rather than to fatten their pockets." With that, she handed the man her last silver toke worth twice his asking price and received a half-smile in return.

"You'll have to share a room," the man said, motioning for them to follow him in.

The interior of the building was more inviting than the outside suggested. A hearth threw a soft warmth through the interior, shining its orange glow over walls decorated with an endless plastering of children's drawings. The sight of a guardsman's coat hanging over a chair stopped his Estra her tracks.

"Don't worry about that," the man said, following her gaze. "I work at the prison is all. Nothing more than a jailer. Don't get paid enough to give a shit about our dear captain or his commands, so you're safe here while your money's still good."

"Oh, how reassuring," Estra grumbled under her breath, receiving a sharp elbow in the side from Lency for her sarcastic remark.

"I'm glad your loyalties lie with the right cause, sir. As a matter of fact, we were hoping to find someone that might be able to lead us to a man named Brennan. Is that a name that you're familiar with?"

The man's eyes narrowed on the pair of them, as he rubbed a hand through his chin stubble. "Well, I am a part of the resistance as you know so well little lass. So aye, I know who the bard is and I know where to find him as well. The only question is, who exactly the two of you are."

"I'm a friend of his," Lency said, favoring the man with her most cheerful smile. "Banor's daughter."

The man's expression softened almost instantly at the mention of the tavern keeper's name. "Ah, I see it now, plain as day. Banor was a good man. A good friend too." He laid a meaty hand on Lency's shoulder. "Your father did a lot of good for a lot of people little one. Any child of his is good by me." His expression changed once again as he shifted his gaze to Estra, "But the big one, I'm still not sure about."

"Who me?" Estra said, spreading her arms wide, with her palms facing upwards. "I'm harmless."

The man's eyes surveyed her from the top down twice over. "Somehow, I doubt that," he said with a sigh. "But, if the girl trusts you, then I will too. At least for the night, that is. The name's Elmont. Pleased to meet you."

Estra shook the man's outstretched hand, ignoring the opportunity to present her own name.

"Brennan's been in hiding ever since our last run-in with the Defiler. She's got it out for him in a big way this time. She's made it clear she's not afraid to cause a mess if that's what it takes to put an end to him. Luckily for you, he's let me know he's going to be attending the nightly circus. Might be some trouble in weaseling him out from the crowd, but you might have a chance if you focus on the center stage. Loves to watch the plays a little too much for his own good"

"Thank you for the information Elmont," Lency said, offering him a much more genuine smile. "And for allowing us into your home for the night."

"Course," Elmont said, smiling back to reveal a set of crooked teeth. "Let me show you lasses to your room."

Estra hesitated for a second until a reassuring nudge from Lency forced her legs to move again. The man led them up a flight of stars that leaned with the same tired sway of the house, taking them to a small, but otherwise clean room. Estra gave it a quick look over and nodded in appreciation of the fact that she may not have lice in her hair at the end of their stay.

"Wish I could say I'll be bringing you two a meal but..."

Lency waved a hand through the air, dismissing the man's words," Don't worry about us, we can go without food for a few hours, feed your boy."

"Thank you miss," the man smiled and left, closing the door behind him. Strangely, Estra got the feeling she could trust the man, despite her general apprehension of anything living or inanimate. Still, when it came to trust, she'd been wrong before.

As soon as the sound of footsteps on stairs rang out. Estra slung her pack from her back and began going about her duties, locking the door with both the bolt attached to it and a spell of her own. She then unstrapped a variety of the vials and bottles from the belt around her waist and set them on the floor next to a sizeable tome she retrieved from among her other items.

Lency kneeled across from her, watching Estra as she did her nightly task. The Blade Witch opened the book to a page so often viewed that the book almost found it on its own and began reciting the contents in mumbled tones.

"You doing some kind of magic?" Lency asked.

"No, I'm making disinfectant," Estra told her. "I'm a combat mage, not a healer. Self-mending is especially tiring for me, so I'm going to have to resort to more traditional means for my shoulder until I can build my energy back up."

"Then what's the spell book for?"

Estra looked up at the girl, her forehead creasing, "It's not a spell book Lency, I'm reciting my nightly prayers. Have you never seen a copy of The Exaid before?"

Lency gave her an aggravated glare, "Course I have, just never seen one written with those symbols."

Estra sighed, "They aren't symbols, they're glyphs. The written form of the God's Tongue."

"Aren't glyphs still symbols?" Lency said with a smug grin.

Estra opened her mouth to make a retort, but instead found herself chuckling, something she didn't do too often unless it was at her won jests. "I guess they are."

"Like those markings on your hand," Lency said, eyeing Estra's tattoos. "I see you looking at them a lot. You always frown when you do. What do they mean?"

Estra's stared down at the golden glyphs just as she did dozens of times throughout each day. It was a constant reminder of times long past. It stood for so many things; a smile that brighter than the gates of paradise, words forever left unsaid, the most beloved and painful of memories. She felt the lurch of bile making its way up her throat as the recollections threatened to choke her again.

"They the words to a spell?" Lency asked.

"No," Estra said, shaking her head. "It's a name."

"Whose?"

Estra didn't offer an explanation, but the girl wouldn't let the question die. "Someone important to you? A friend? A lover?"

"My mother's," Estra answered flatly. "She's the whole reason I'm here, to be honest. If it wasn't for her, I would have spent the rest of my days hunting after bandits and rogue mages."

"What changed?"

"She died."

The words came out flat and bitter, cutting just as deeply as when Lency had said the same for her own parent. It proved enough to end Lency's line of questioning, but Estra found that she wasn't done sharing. For some reason, she wanted to talk to this girl. Maybe it was all the wallowing in the past she'd been doing lately, or maybe her want for a friend had finally gotten the better of her, but either way, she found herself speaking more.

"When I was a girl, my mother and I used to live at the convent on the cliffs just outside of the city," Estra said. "When the Defiler came, I made a promise I'd return here one day. That I'd deal with the ghosts that haunt me. It's been nearly a decade, but the time's finally come."

Estra showed the girl her markings, allowing her to view the arcane glimmer that passed over the symbol as she spoke. "Never met my father, but he's the one who passed on my Asruelian blood. I'm of the Glo tribe; Those who see. My blessing is that of the Witch's eyes. Everything I see, everything I've ever seen, has a permanent effect on my magic. I can never forget it. When I witness something, when I feel something, my magic is forever changed. My mother was a pure soul, a woman of scorching faith. It's her memory that's the source of my flames. In a way, you could say that she's my greatest strength."

Lency stared back at her, her mouth taught searching for something to say. It occurred to Estra that the girl might be looking for words of comfort or sympathy. Estra wasn't entirely sure what she'd expected the girl to say in return, or if she'd wanted any response at all. She'd just been relieved to finally share her thoughts with someone. Maybe even a potential friend. Something that had become an exceedingly rare occurrence throughout her life. In the end, Estra decided to end the awkward exchange herself.

"Nighttime is coming quickly," Estra said, "You should get some sleep before we have to go. I'll keep watch."

"No need for that," Lency said, her lips spreading in an all-knowing grin, "There are no nights here."

II

A circus was the last place Estra expected to find herself. Ever since she was a child, she'd looked down from the cliffs at the wondrous display of lights that marked the city's nightly festival. In those times attending the grand spectacle was nothing more than a girlish dream of participating in an event for which she was eternally uninvited. Only now, as she walked amidst through the canopy of streamers and endless oddities, did she come to realize that Wulfdonria was known as the city of no nights for a reason.

After the Wulfdonria's declaration of freedom, an annual festival was decreed to mark the occasion. Over time the parade of troupes and eccentricities became semi-annual, then monthly, until finally the powers that be acknowledged the influx of revenue that the event brought and decided to make it a nightly occurrence.

During the day, the main square swarmed with hordes of people, but at night, it grew even more livid. Beneath the glow of Eldrin's bright moon, the colorful lights of the ocean-side metropolis flickered into life to challenge it. Along with them came the people, now done with their day's work, reveling in entertainment and laughter.

A cyclone of noise assailed Estra's ears from every direction. The giggle of two lovers in each other's arms, the laughter of children running through the crowd, and above everything she could hear the cheers of crowds that stood gaping at one or another of the circuses' many displays.

With the sheer number of people surrounding her, Estra's warning spells were rendered useless, giving her the necessary excuse to take in some of the sights as she hurried behind Lency, trying to keep up with the girl's rapid pace.

There was a crowd cooing as they watched a trio of fire jugglers. One-man spat fire into the air, lighting the ends of a pair of torches. He tossed them to the next man who spun them around, hurling them up into the air and catching them on the tip of his nose for the crowd's enjoyment. Their little exhibition ended with the torches being tossed to a woman who thrust the flaming torches down her throat, waiting for the screams of the onlookers before she pulled them out, coughing up smoke and revealing herself unharmed.

The Blade Witch found herself clapping along with the rabble, despite her best attempt to remain inconspicuous. She was a mage, formally trained and well versed in her craft, but whatever kind of magic these performers were using was beyond even her understanding.

The pair of women continued their winding path through the crowd, making sure to avoid the city guards who made their way through the masses, cudgels searching about for anyone that looked even slightly suspicious. The guard captain's crackdown of late had certainly put a dampening effect on the city's mood of late. Every day they became bolder and their treatment harsher, but it seemed not even that unwelcome addition could stop the party from raging onward once night fell.

Estra and Lency managed to avoid their notice, making their way past a vast number of increasingly extravagant exhibits. There was a woman less than a foot tall that spread at full length in the hand of an insanely huge Issian man. On a stage made of solid glass, a minor mage made a display of balling up sheets of colorful paper and turning them into birds that would fly around the crowd for a moment before coming to rest on the head of whatever pretty woman he chose.

There seemed to be no end to the wonders they could have seen this night, but Estra dragged her eyes away all the same, never forgetful of their goal. They persisted on through the hum towards the grandest display of them all. Standing right in the center of the city square was the second largest structure in Wulfdonria and the only remnant of the Faith left unmarred. The statue of Saint Ciaren stood vibrant, stone hands dangling with a mass of colorful ribbons, soaring into the sky as if it would grasp the stars. An ornate stage had been erected at its base for the use of the show that brought in the most viewers. Actors of great fame played out scenes from The Folly of Dendos, hyping up the crowd that gasped at every line of the great drama.

"He's around here somewhere," Lency said, stopping as the mob became too dense for them to shove their way through any further. "He's usually more taken by the comedies, but this one is his favorite of them all. If I had to guess, I'd say he's-"

The crowd released a collective gasp as a surprise character leaped on to the stage. He was a lithe man, adorned with curved horns and sinister fangs. He stalked over to the actress who played the Enlightened One Purity and began going about his grandiose role with full engrossment.

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say that's him," Estra said, looking down at Lency's dismayed expression. "He's pretty damned good actually, though he has a strange methodology for hiding from a pack of heretical murderers."

"Oh, dear Eldrin, he's a fucking idiot," Lency said, her eyes doubling in size as she covered her mouth with a bony hand.

They watched for a few seconds as the man played through his lines. Despite Lency's dismay, Estra found herself enjoying the show. This Brennan fellow had a wonderful talent for playing to the crowd. He skulked around the white-robed damsel, before leaping at her with a wolfish howl that jarred screams from the viewers.

A tug at Estra's wrist brought her away from the play as Lency began leading her around the crowd, making her way to the back stages.

"You sure we should even be conversing with this fellow?" Estra asked as they slipped behind a stack of crates. "I mean, he's a great actor and all, but I don't know if I can trust a man with about as much good sense as the gnat that fought the lion."

"He's a fool, no doubt about that," Lency said, poking her head around to peek at the women guarding the back entrance. "But he's also my friend. The only one I have if I'm being honest. You can leave if you want, but I'm going to at least try to do something."

Estra observed the city guards herself, breathing a heavy sigh of displeasure. No doubt they hadn't taken note of the bard's presence on stage yet, or they'd already have him under arrest under their captain's orders. There were only two of them and neither carried anything more than a wooden cudgel. The issue wouldn't be getting past them. It would be doing so without seriously injuring them or making a scene.

Estra brought a hand to her sore shoulder, rotating it to relieve some of the tension. "Well you helped me when I needed you, so I guess that means you at least have two friends now," Estra said, digging in her coat pocket to produce a small glass vial of purple powder. "Don't count yourself too lucky though, most of my companions tend not to last very long."

She rose, whispering a few words in the God's Tongue before she sent the vial flying with enhanced precision. It shattered on the ground between the two guards, sending up a cloud of purple smoke into the humid nighttime air. The two women startled and looked at each other blankly before they each wobbled and fell to the ground.

Estra closed the gap between her and the unconscious guards with haste, immediately tugging on the larger one's legs to drag her towards the dark space beneath the stairs.

"A little help with the other one would be much appreciated," Estra huffed towards Lency as she struggled with the guard's ample weight.

The girl went about her task much quicker than Estra had expected. Despite being only a fraction of the guard's weight, Lency had her tucked squarely out of sight before Estra had even gone half the distance.

"How the fuck are you so strong?" Estra said wiping her brow as she followed Lency up the steps.

"Just a fortunate byproduct of an unfortunate existence," Lency said without any sense of pleasure in her tone.

Estra withheld her follow up question, deciding it could wait until after the events at hand had unfolded. She passed Lency, testing the doorknob to find it locked, just as she'd expected.

"Move," Lency commanded, shoving her way past. The girl retrieved a small pouch from beneath her cloak that she opened to reveal an intriguing set of instruments and began working on the lock with practiced skill. After a few seconds of wiggling and angry staring, the lock relented, clicking open to allow them entry to the space beyond.

"Where'd you learn how to pick a lock?" Estra asked as she followed Lency into the dimly lit interior of the backstage. She'd thought that having the girl along would be a burden to her, but instead, she'd annoyingly found herself to be the one following behind so far.

"Just one of the skills a girl has to pick up if they want to survive on their own in this city," Lency whispered.

The two of them crept their way through an endless sea of props, making sure to avoid the open doors of actors going over lines aloud as they powdered their faces and donned their costumes. After spending a moment hiding from another pair of guards, they scurried near the velvet curtains that separated the back rooms from the main stage. Estra hazarded a glance through a gap in the burgundy partition, watching as Brennan continued playing through his role with gusto.

"You thought that you could escape me Purity?" He roared, leaning aggressively over the woman who portrayed the first Enlightened. "Oh, and you would have if it weren't for that fool of a man Dendos!"

Estra knew this part of the tale well, having read of it in the holy text many times over. Soon mothers would be covering their children's eyes and the more captivated crowd members would be voicing boos of disgust. All things considered, they couldn't have arrived at a better time. The bard would be making his exit from the stage soon, which would provide them with the perfect opportunity to snatch him up and depart.

A string of movement in the crowd caught Estra's attention. Ragged cloaked men barged their way through the congregation towards the stage. To the attendees, they were just boorish thugs, but to one with the Witch's Eyes, their true nature was obvious.

They were heretics, sure enough, but they were an entirely different breed from the ones she'd fought in the Tavern. Something about them left a sour taste in her mouth. Each of them had the sickly appearance of someone tainted by foul magic. Helena's touch had left their skin pale and their eyes sunken under tired red rings. Spells weren't necessary to warn her of these people's intent, their blatant disregard for civility was all she needed.

Direct combat in such a large crowd of would only end disastrously for everyone caught in the middle. If she was going to deal with this new threat, she'd have to lead the heretics somewhere she'd have more room to maneuver freely. Doing her best to control her accelerating heart rate, Estra bit down hard on her bottom lip as a plan began to formulate.

"The heretics are here," Estra said, turning to Lency. The girl frowned back at her in distaste. "They'll be on the stage before his bit ends."

"Well we can't just leave him," Lency said.

Estra nodded, pulling her ashah's chain free from the depths of her shirt. A servant of the Faith garnered more dislike than praise in the city, but at the moment, that's exactly what she was counting on. She took an uneasy inhale of overly perfumed air, feeling the blood rush to her face before she made the most ill-advised decision of her life. "It's high time I put my title to some beneficial use."

III

Before Lency could question her, Estra strode out onto the stage peering down into the confused faces of the audience. The actors on the stage froze and murmurs of bewilderment began to rise as the onlookers watched the appearance of the surprise cast member.

"Halt the play!" Estra called out, holding up her pendant for everyone to see. "By authority of the Faith of the Twelve Enlightened, I hereby place the man known as Brennan under arrest for..." she paused for a moment, desperately groping around for whatever superficial charges she could bring to mind. "For the portrayal of heretical imagery."

Angry hoots of annoyance rose from the crowd immediately. Men and women threw up their fists and yelled, a few of them making their way towards the complementary crates of rotten foodstuffs to throw. Estra could sense the beginnings of a riot coming on, which tuned out to be exactly what she needed. There were far too many civilians in the vicinity for her to duel with the heretics now. The disturbance in the displeased throng was making it difficult for the Defiler's gang to press forward, hopefully providing her enough time to get somewhere more suited to her needs.

Estra shoved a cast member out of the way, grabbing the thin bard by the scruff of his collar. "Listen close and listen well," she whispered, leaning close to his ear. "Helena's men are in the crowd as we speak. If you want half a chance at living through the night, don't struggle and come with me quickly."

The bard looked down at her hesitantly, something close to recognition registering on his face before he caught the path of her eyes. The Broken Pillars were blatantly throwing people to the ground at this point, almost as if they were thrown into a blind rage at seeing Estra appear on stage.

"I understand," Brennan said, a strange smirk playing across his thin lips. He was still using his sing-song stage voice, but there was strange calmness in his tone that was more than a little unsettling. "Please, let's go."

Estra wheeled him around and ushered him back through the curtains with haste. As soon as they crossed the threshold, a loud crack rang out, dropping the bard to the floor. Lency hovered over him, her face the pristine visage of anger, palm raised to strike again as the bard clutched his bruised jaw.

"What the fuck were you thinking Brennan?" Lency said, pushing him back to the floor as he tried to rise. "You're wanted by one of the most infamous people in Eldrin and you decide to run out on stage and flaunt yourself around like a damned peacock. Tell me, what kind of good sense does that make?"

"Well shit, nice to see you too Lency," Brennan said, his ever-present smile never faltering.

"We don't have time for this right now," Estra urged, dragging the bard upright.

Lency shot a threatening glare at Brennan once more before the three of them took off at a mad scamper through the back stages. Troupers had already begun to pop out of their dressing rooms in the wake of the onstage disturbance. Estra decided to forgo showing her pendant to every one of them, instead choosing to barge a path through anyone that stepped in their way.

It didn't take much time at all for the trio to reach the back door, but even then, Estra could hear the shouting and hard footfalls of the heretics running at full speed behind them. She fought to control her growing apprehension as they burst into the open night.

Lency took the lead, angling a path towards the nearest alleyway, but skidded to a stop as Brennan pointed towards another route.

"We head this way," the bard commanded, "I know a good place to hide."

"Well whatever we do, we'd better do it now," Estra said, allowing a hard ball of energy to build up in her hand. It flew with perfect timing, striking the top of the door frame with a loud bang that caused a sizable portion of the roof to cave in on the first two heretics unfortunate enough to pass through. The noise of bones crunching beneath the heavy timber gave Estra the promise of some temporary respite and a welcome sense of glee at her accomplishment.

She turned around to find Lency and Brennan waiting for her wide-eyed and impatient. Estra didn't make them pause for long, breaking out into a wild sprint as she followed them down the alleyway. They took an endless route of twist and turns that seemed nearly impossible to track. Just as the thought crossed her mind, the sound of the broken pillars footfalls in the distance carried to her ears, making her heart leap forward like a deer running from a pack of wild dogs.

"You don't remember me at all do you?" the bard huffed in between steps, looking back at her.

"Can't say that I do, now quit talking and move faster man," Estra shoved Brennan ahead, quickly growing tired of how unathletic their easily distracted guide was. Despite the flair of his earlier movements on stage, the man was proving to be about as agile as a newborn giraffe with a bone disease and he was likely the sole reason that their escape wasn't already assured.

The back of Estra's neck was alight with the anxiousness of enemies close at her heels, and she was almost ready to turn and fight when the bard made a sudden dodge through an open doorway. Estra sucked in her lips, but followed him through without breaking stride, making sure to take a quick view of their surroundings as she entered.

The abandoned building proved to only be a shortcut to their true goal. The ragtag group leaped over termite ridden furniture and burst through the home's front door and found themselves standing in a wider alleyway parallel to the one they'd just left. Their situation didn't seem to have improved much, but Brennan's demeanor changed entirely. The bard confidently stopped behind them, smoothing out his clothes and collecting himself as if they were already in the clear.

Estra's jaw tightened in frustration as she looked back at the idiotic display, "What in dark hell are you doing man? We've got to-"

"Please excuse me while I have a brief discussion with these fine gentleman," Brennan said cutting off her words with a raised palm. The lanky minstrel walked over to a group of pox-ridden beggars huddled against around a makeshift fire. He smiled down at them warmly as if they were all old friends, engaging them in a hurried discussion that ended with something being passed from his hand to each of theirs before he returned to the other two without so much as a bounce in his step.

Estra reached towards the bard with anger shaking in her palms, having decided to drag the man if she had to, but stopped short as the heretics came bursting through the doorway of the abandoned house behind them. Without a word, Estra beckoned her flames forth only to find them weakened by her already taxed breathing. In this state, she wasn't going to be able to face all four of them without taking her fair share of harm, but there wasn't much else she could do.

She fought to get her rapid gasping for air under control, unsheathing her sword and allowing the flames to wind their way up the starsilver blade in preparation for the bout to come. The sickly-looking heretics loped forward, weapons bared and ready. Then something strange happened. To Estra's utter confusion, the mangy band of beggars rose between the two groups with makeshift weapons of back-alley refuse in hand, forcing the heretics to come to a grinding halt.

Estra looked around perplexed, watching as Brennan stepped forward with a white-toothed grin spreading his swollen cheeks. "My good men, may I welcome you to the marvelous portion of our fine city known as beggar's row, where the services of the finest bodyguards in Wulfdonria can be purchased with as little as a toke per head," Brennan said bowing theatrically.

The heretics shuffled around, eyeing the beggars warily. Each of the broken pillars looked to be seasoned fighters, but the beggars outnumbered them two per man and they all had about them the desperate look of individuals willing to do anything it took to survive. The heretics began backing away slowly, holding their weapons out carefully as they the beggars approached.

"And with that, I bid you all a good night," Brennan said with a wave. He took off once more, waving for Lency and Estra to follow behind.

Estra followed, trying her best not to look back at the bizarre scene unfolding in the dirt-stained back alleys. Just as they turned a corner, the shouts of moonlight bloodshed rose from behind them. Though she knew their escape was the most important matter, Estra found herself hoping that it was the beggars who would do the least of the dying tonight.

CHAPTER THREE:

House of Broken Things

I

They'd been moving for a while, following Brennan at a subdued pace as he carefully picked his way through the city streets. Each pathway he chose proved to be nearly desolate, solidifying his extensive knowledge of Wulfdonria's under workings. After what seemed like miles they found themselves in a more amiable part of town, standing in front of a quaint building decorated with creeping vines and a brass fashioned sign marking it as _Madame Melinda's Magnificent Marvels_.

The name alone was enough to garner Estra's skepticism, but even more so were the sounds of lovemaking that wafted down from the flower-strewn windows overlooking them.

"A whore house Brennan? This is your idea of a hiding place?" Lency asked incredulously. "If anything, we're _more_ likely to be exposed here. The people that work in places like these are often paid more for the information they gather from their clients than the services they render."

The bard made a showy hand gesture as he opened the doorway, allowing the strong scent of incense and forced laughter to waft out of the pretentious interior. "That would be the case for most establishments of this kind, but that matter changes entirely for one in good tithings with the Madame."

Estra looked around the area, checking for the presence of any unwanted eyes. Without seeing many other options, she followed Brennan into the brothel with Lency close behind and found her witch's eyes immediately assaulted by an overwhelming amount of colors, as if someone had seen fit to cram every possible shade into every open crevice of the building's interior. There seemed to be no end to the variety of gaudy furniture and wall ornaments. Along with that blinding kaleidoscope came a seemingly endless array of courtesans from the furthest reaches of the world.

Striding fully naked all around them were enormous women from the high mountains of northern Iss, thin elfin men from the deep canyon cities of the Midanian empire, and even more that Estra couldn't quite match to a particular heritage. The most intriguing of them all was a short person with flowing red hair and a sandy blonde beard that could have easily been a man or woman from what Estra could tell. This strange character glided towards them in a luxuriously fluffed overcoat, bearing a coy smirk, half hidden behind a jewel-encrusted fan.

"It is so wonderful to see you again Madame," Brennan said with an overly exaggerated bow.

"Oh, no need for such a display, especially not from my favorite customer," Madame Melinda chuckled.

Even the Madame's voice was misleading. Estra was almost brought to the point of a headache trying to figure this strange specimen out.

"And what's more, you've brought guests!" The Madame said, flapping her fan towards the two women. "Though don't you think for a moment that I'll be charging you the group rate. With that show you put on for my darlings during your last visit, you've paid for you and your friends tenfold."

Brennan laughed heartily, though Estra could see the embarrassment outlining his cheeks. "No, I haven't come for my regular fare I'm afraid. My companions and I actually find ourselves in a small predicament. We're actually in need of private rooms at the moment." He'd stretched out the word just enough for his meaning to get across clearly.

The Madame's eyes widened slightly in as she caught the bard's meaning. "Ah, I'd heard whispers of some trouble you'd gotten yourself into, though I hoped it was nothing but a foul rumor," the Madame said. "Well, if privacy is what you need, then you've come to the right place. I'll see to it that you'll not be disturbed during your stay here... unless it's a certain kind of disturbance, that is."

Brennan's eyes grew alight with sinful desire at the Madame's inquiry. "I may have to take you up on that offer," he said wolfishly. "But for now, rooms are all we're in need of."

The Madame giggled, fluttering her fan against her batting eyelashes as she turned towards the spiraling staircase. "Of course, follow me then."

Estra ascended the marble steps at the back of the group, doing her best to avoid the lustful gazes of the many courtesans she passed, failing when she spotted a curvaceous redhead with a face like a fox. In the course of one day, she'd killed eight people, attended a circus, and now she found herself striding the steps of a whore house. So much had occurred that she didn't know which of her rampant thoughts should be given precedence.

All she could think to do was walk behind her new group of comrades and whisper to herself. "Angels of paradise forgive me, what have I gotten myself into."

II

"You're actually somewhat attractive," Brennan said tilting his head to the side in the seat opposite Estra. "Well, only if I look at you under a certain lighting from an angle, but still, I guess you're not all _that_ homely."

Estra frowned, thrumming her fingers against the glass tabletop to match the rhythm of the music wafting through the mural painted walls around them. She hazarded a glance at the window once again, hoping that she might catch sight of Lency returning from wherever she'd wandered off to. Her concern for the girl went directly at odds with her personal creed, but she found it impossible to shake the inclination, no matter how hard she tried.

"Back to the topic at hand Brennan," Estra said, tearing her eyes away from the moonlit streets below. "The Defiler, where is she?"

The bard's smile drooped under the weight of her question, the cup in his hands stopping just short of his lips. "In a hurry to get yourself killed, are you?"

Estra slumped heavily in her chair, allowing the overly plush cushions to swallow her. "I've been training for nearly a decade to face Helena. Every skill and talent that I possess been honed for the sake of killing that one person," Estra said, allowing herself to reminisce over her long nights learning the glyphs with Yelda in Holly Hold's dusted library. "I've seen her power first hand. Surely you don't think I would face her if I weren't certain of my chances of winning?"

"You speak highly of yourself for someone who was just running away from a pack of her minions just the other day," Brennan said, testing his coffee with a dissatisfied frown.

"My magic was weak," Estra explained. "Spent too much energy healing my arm for another contest so soon after."

"And remind me how you were cut in the first place. From what you've told me, I believe it had something to do with a scuffle in a tavern that required your saving by a girl six years your minor?" Brennan said.

"I make no excuses for that," Estra said running a hand through her ever-unruly hair. "I've trained endlessly in the sword, but even the best blade master is a fool if they think they can handle those odds alone. The only reason I accomplished the task is through the benefit of arcane ability. That's the caveat of my prowess. Though I can be bested by a group of swordsmen, I specialize in hunting down other users of magic. If it were mage against mage, Helena would no doubt have the advantage, but from what I know the woman knows nothing of the blade. That's my advantage in a fight with her. I'm trained in multiple disciplines, whereas she relies completely on her corrupted sorcery."

Brennan shook his head. "You're many things, but I don't think you're a fool Estra." He set his coffee down, reaching a finger over to twirl an incent around in its holder. "There is a woefully small number that could hope to even survive a bout with Helena, and even fewer that could hope to leave in victory. I would count you among the best of them, but nonetheless, you could never accomplish that goal with things the way that they are."

"How so?" Estra said, crossing her arms as her eyes flickered towards the back alleys once more. Lency was growing later by the moment and the bard was riling her temper again. Those two things could easily turn out to be a bad mixture.

"As you've said, you've spent a great deal of time tracking Helena across Eldrin, but you're still ignorant of the larger game at play here," Brennan said, leaning forward to examine a plate of sugar cubes. "Your battle is not with Helena alone. The Defiler is more than a simple agent of chaos. That woman is a meticulous architect, taking her every movement with calculated poise. Helena has manipulated and schemed her way to the epitome of Wulfdonria's underworld and now finds herself ruling the city of no nights from the shadows. With the supporters she's amassed, there's simply no hope for anyone to defeat her alone."

The bard selected a white lump, depositing it in his cup for a taste before moving to select another. He seemed unconcerned with their conversation as if he were explaining something that should have been common knowledge to her.

Estra did generally know everything the bard was telling her, but what she had no idea of was what the Defilers motives truly were. Why had the sorceress chosen Wulfdonria of all places? Why did Helena stay in hiding even though she had more than enough influence to overtake the city entirely? After all these years, why return now? Most importantly, what did she hope to gain here?

"I understand everything you're telling me," Estra said with a melancholy growl. "But if you're seeking to discourage me from hunting after her, then you haven't gotten my measure right at all."

The bard looked up from his task, finally satisfied with his efforts. "On the contrary, I wish to help you."

An involuntary snicker escaped Estra's pursed lips. " _You?"_ She questioned holding out her arms, calloused palms facing upwards for him to see. "These are the hands of someone who can stand against a woman like Helena. They're hard and worn from countless days spent in preparation. You've got hands softer than a baby's arse, so tell me what exactly someone like you could do to help me?"

Estra expected hostility at her chastisement, but what she got instead was a smug half-grin. "Have I not already saved you once dear Estra?"

Her mouth came open to reply, but she found that she had none to give. If it weren't for him, she likely wouldn't have escaped the defiler's band after the circus. Then again, if she hadn't had to save the bard, she wouldn't have been in that position in the first place. In her eyes, they were even, but he still had a point.

"I will admit that I've never held a sword even once before in my life," Brennan said, smoothing out his coat as if he were under the scrutiny of a grand audience. "But you must come to learn the power of persuasion. It was often said by a compatriot of mine that _A sword in the right hands could kill the best of knights, but a pen in the right palm could cut down an army_. You, my dear Estra, are a warrior, and its people like you that do the fighting. But against such odds, you can't hope to stride forward unaided. I am a man of persuasion and politics. I am the pen capable of amassing the kind of support that you will need for your lofty endeavor."

Estra puckered her lips, admitting that the words were wise indeed, but not wanting to give voice to her opinion lest she stroke the bard's ego to even greater heights. "In short, you're saying that people like you are the ones that keep people like me from ending up in early graves, and that's why I need you."

Brennan nodded with a smile that told her he hadn't truly expected her to get his meaning.

"So, tell me why exactly you would choose my side instead of the one with the advantage," Estra said, reaching for her own cup. The question had been assailing her for some time now.

The bard's eyes wandered about the room as a reminiscence passed over his face. "You could say that Helena and myself have a... complicated history," Brennan said. His lips parted in a grimace as his sight fell to an ugly stain on the flooring. "Something you'll learn of soon, no doubt. But if I'm being honest, your arrival in the city is the only reason I'm showing my face. That and the mistake I made."

"What kind of _mistake_?" Estra asked, impatiently tapping the heel of her boot against the marble tiles.

"I'm the reason Lency ended up in such a dire situation," the bard said, the solemnity of his words throwing a dark haze over the room. "She doesn't fault me for it, though I wouldn't blame her if she did. Helena told me she needed Asruelian blood. Knowing Banor as I did, I thought it would benefit us all for introductions to be made. Still, had I ever known what would happen, I would have fled the city that same night with the family in tow. Instead, Helena wasn't very pleased when she learned that the Asruelian man bore no blessing. You see, she didn't just need any Asruelian blood for her plans. Helena needed the blood a blessed child, the God's blood, as she called it. I wasn't aware that was a requirement. Then she found out he had a daughter and not only that, but Lency was a _Rah_. I spoke out, knowing what it might cost me, but the only result that came from it was my being hunted by Helena, Banor's death, and Lency becoming her prisoner. I cost a man his life and a friend her freedom. I have sins that need repealing Estra. That's why I choose to stand against the Defiler."

Estra favored the gaunt-faced man with a hard stare. She'd heard worse stories in her travels, but she found herself remarkably invested in this one. Perhaps it was because she herself had suffered beneath the sorceress's hand. Or maybe it was because she was developing a fondness for her new companions.

"So, that's it then? Your chief motivation is guilt?" Estra asked. There was no scorn in her words, only a simple inquiry. To her, guilt was as good a reason as any. Many times, she'd been driven to do kind deeds only to break free from blame she'd placed on herself. "And you mentioned my arrival having something do with your appearance?"

"I needed to get to you before the Defiler did, so I made a sort of bet, more of an educated wager if you will," Brennan said. "Knowing your reputation, I figured that you could probably hunt me down faster than I could you. So, I put myself in the most obvious place at the most noticeable time and hoped that I hadn't put myself up to the slaughter. I'm glad to see that your renown is well earned."

"At least you're an honest man Brennan," Estra said. Brennan was an unusual character, but he knew what he was, and he had no fear of displaying it. Truth be told, Estra was jealous of him for that. Though her eyes were locked on the man sitting across from her, each had their thoughts turned inwards, roaming the fields of decisions long passed.

Estra did her best to pull her thoughts together, "So what exactly is your proposal bard?"

III

The bard's explanation was long-winded and overly detailed. It had taken him hours to explain, long enough for rain to start falling on the city streets outside, but Estra got the gist of it.

"So, you're suggesting that the best course of action is to go straight to the heart of the issue?" Estra said, standing to stretch her limbs, a smile managed to break its way through her dull expression as she caught sight of a small figure walking through the nighttime drizzle with a lantern raised in front of her hood.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm advising we do," the bard said, making sure to drag out the word to make his meaning clear. "For that, we're going to need a few more allies."

"Who exactly? Maybe the mayor or the high judge?" Estra suggested.

Brennan responded to her proposals with a cruel laugh. "All the aristocrats of this city were in the Defiler's pockets long ago," he said, moving his hand as if to wipe the thought from her mind. "If we're going to have any hope of succeeding, you need to broaden your sentiments on who you associate yourself with."

Estra had expected as much. "So, you're suggesting criminals then? We're going to be finding our associates in the same place that our enemy makes its bed?" she said, without making an effort to hide her contempt. "You might not be entirely bad, but I don't work with scum Brennan. As far as I'm concerned, they can all fall into the dark voids of hell."

"Ha," the bard scoffed at her, souring his cheeks. "You know, I thought you might be a little different from the rest of the Faith's dogs, but it turns out you're not the almighty chosen one everyone makes you out to be. You really believe so wholeheartedly in the Faith's pig arsed bigotry, do you? The same shit that brought racism and prejudice to this very city for hundreds of years when they unjustly persecuted anyone that didn't conform to their beliefs."

A surge of heat flowed through Estra's body. She could feel her face redden at the bard's words as he exposed what plagued her constantly. Her mouth opened, but words didn't find their way out. Only the familiar feelings of shame and self-loathing roiled from within her.

"That was a long time ago bard," Estra said, a surge of angry heat flowing through her body. "A lot has changed about the Faith since then."

"I may not have your eyes, but even a simple man like myself can see that the institution you serve is just as twisted as its always been," Brennan said without any trace of his usual mirth. "You'd think that someone with Asruelian blood running through their veins would understand that."

Estra stared at the man, unable to present any counterargument to his statements. She was one of Asruelian decent. In The Exaid it was written that the Asruelian people had forsaken both their enlightenment and ascendency to paradise in favor of a godless life, something that the Faith had long decreed as the ultimate act of profanity. Yet here she was fervently serving the Faith. Living a life based on principles that had been thrust upon her from childhood. As unsure as ever whether she truly believed in them or not.

A chilling air found its way into the private room, like the ghost of a memory coming to haunt. It swirled around the bard darkening, his mood and found its way into Estra's bones, causing a slight shiver that she was too distracted to hide.

"I know for you, we've only just met, but there is much that you need to know Estra," Brennan said. "Things that the Faith has kept hidden from you, what Goffried trained you to do, the Defiler's true motives here, about the past, about yourself. Things Jennah intended to tell you before she died." The bard's words were cryptic and the way he spoke them was knowing and unusual.

"You speak of my mother?" Estra asked mystified, clutching at the only portion of the man's statement that had any real meaning to her. "And you speak of Goffried as well. As if you knew them."

"I did," Brennan said, his face a deadpan mask. "It is no mistake that you returned to this city. Call it fate, destiny, or whatever else you like, but you have a purpose here."

A hefty silence fell on the room, only broken by the squeal of the door opening as their third companion entered. Lency entered the room hesitantly, looking between the two of them with mild curiosity before she took a seat.

"I suppose it's a good thing you showed up when you did Lency. You should be here for this too. Let's begin with the reason all this started," the Bard suggested. "The chasm of souls."

"What in dark hell is that?" Estra asked.

"The chasm is the whole reason Wulfdonria was built here in the first place," Brennan said. "The real reason I mean. Beneath this city is a remnant of ancient times, a gateway of sorts. When the Faith discovered it was here, they believed they could use it to open a path to paradise and commune with your Enlightened. Turns out what was on the other side wasn't what they thought. You've seen Helena's followers, how they change with each passing day. That's the corruption the Faith unleashed, and it's spreading quicker with each passing day. Helena once spoke of closing the gate, preventing the Faith from using it again. She proved her intent when she began her return to Wulfdonria by destroying your convent. That's how she got people to follow her in the beginning, but inevitably the corruption caught up with her as well. Now her mind isn't her own. Now she wants it opened. She wants to use whatever is on the other side to turn the people of this city into an army of the damned and take her revenge for the suffering she's endured."

"That's where you come in," Brennan said. "I know you may not understand this right now, but once you hear my story, you'll know why. You're the only person that can destroy the chasm Estra."

It felt like a book had just been crammed into her head in the space of a few seconds. There was a lot to ponder over, but what question begged to be asked more than any other. "How exactly do you know all this?" Estra asked. She looked over at Lency, who looked just as confused as she did before turning back to Brennan. "I'm done listening to your veiled explanations. Tell your story bard."

"So be it," Brennan nodded, letting out a ragged sigh. "The time has come for you to learn the truth."

CHAPTER FOUR:

The God's Blood

I

Brennan used all the strength his starving body could muster to throw a man to the ground who'd stepped into the path of his escape. He stumbled forward, nearly losing his footing before he caught himself on a crate, sending its contents rolling across the pave stones. The guards made an awkward dance that brought a smirk to the boy's face as he watched them stumble over the cabbages. The city guards were older, faster and stronger, but he was smarter and brains were what counted. He tossed them a parting wave and turned to scamper away.

He'd only taken a pair of steps before a hand entangled itself in his hair with a grip like frozen iron.

"Oh no you don't you little fucker," an angry voice growled in his ear, wrenching his head back to look at the man he'd shoved. The middle-aged man's hair was already entirely grey with a scrawny beard that made him look more like a goat than a man, but despite his weathered appearance, there was no lack of strength in his hold. "Think you can just-"

"Stop where you are!" the guards shouted, having regained their footing and some of their dignity.

"You women want something with this one?" the man asked, tugging at Brennan's lice-ridden mane to move him towards the two panting guards.

"Aye," one of the guardswomen answered. "Caught him peddling contraband on the streets again. First time's a warning, second time's a night in the jails, but the eighth time? Even for a kid that's worth a good lashing."

The goat man looked down at Brennan with a grey eyebrow raised. The boy tried on his few most innocent smile, only to see the man shrug and toss him towards the guardswomen.

"Thank you, sir," the other guardswoman said, digging in her pocket. "Captain would have had our arses if he'd found out we let another one get away. Especially this one, caught him kissing on his daughter behind the schoolhouse last week," she said, producing a few tokes in offer to the man, which he politely declined.

"No need for a reward, just an old man doing his part for the twelve."

The guard hesitated, her kind grin dropping from her face. "You one of those dogs of the Faith from the convent up on the cliffs?"

"Can't say that I'm a dog miss," the man chuckled. "Still, I am an ashah of the one true faith and I firmly believe in the Enlightened, if that's what you're asking. Hopefully that isn't an issue?"

The woman drew her hand back. "I suppose not. Free city means all faiths are allowed. But you better not go around preaching yours or there'll be trouble," she advised the man.

He nodded, his warm smile never faltering. "Good to hear then," he looked down at Brennan with mild curiosity painted on his face. "What was the boy selling anyway?"

"Just some stuff I found lying around is all," Brennan yelped, struggling to free himself from the larger woman's painful hold on his wrist.

"Aye, lying around in the catacombs to be exact," the woman said, twisting his arm all the harder. "Right piece of shit you are, stealing from the dead."

A glove walloped him across the back of his head, dropping him to his knees before he was promptly hoisted up again. "I'd love to have a chance at you myself for all the trouble you caused us, but the caps made it clear he's gonna beat you till you piss red."

The woman's words gave Brennan an unwelcome image, making his legs weak at the thought. He suddenly found himself regretting ever having met Emelia Voucher and her beautiful black hair. He'd known she was a temptress and the Madame had always said stay away from the girl's who'll give it up for free, but he'd been too dumb to listen. Now the only hope he had was praying that her father only knew about the kissing and she'd managed to stay quiet about the more dastardly things.

The big woman led him forward, forcing him towards his dreaded sentence. An outstretched arm impeded their journey and Brennan was surprised to find that it belonged to the goat man.

"The catacombs you said?" the man looked down at him as if he were appraising a mule at the auctions.

"Aye, that's right pillar man," the other guard answered.

"Hmm," the man stroked a hand through his beard thoughtfully, seeming to struggle with some crucial decision before he found an answer. "My fair ladies, would you two be willing to consider a deal?"

The guardswomen exchanged a glance at each other, then looked back towards the man. "Depends on what kind of offer you're suggesting." The shorter guard said, rubbing two fingers together to make her meaning clear.

"And it'd better be a damned good one, with the way the captain would chew us up," the larger guard added.

Brennan looked about in confusion, not understanding exactly what was going on. He could see that his freedom was being bartered for, but not exactly why. He watched the goat man reach down to dig in his boots, wondering if he intended to use him as a toy for some sort of twisted pleasures. He'd heard of that happening to many of the other orphan boys.

"Oh, I think you'll find my offer more than acceptable," the man said, presenting three golden tokes.

Never in his life had Brennan seen so much wealth in anyone's hands outside of the brothel. His mouth watered at the sight and he forgot about his fears as the aching in his stomach took over his thoughts. The goat man placed a toke in each of the guard's hands, their eyes leering with excitement, even wider than Brennan's.

"One for each of you," the man said. He placed one gold coin in each of the women's palms and held up the last for them to drool over. "This one is for your captain. Now if you two are wise enough to make sure it gets to the man, you'll likely avoid the worst of his wrath. I'll also throw in the assurance that he won't have to worry about the boy breaking any more laws, though I can't promise anything about the likes of his daughter."

He placed the toke into one of the guard's palms and Brennan could tell from their wolfish glares that they'd rather take a lashing themselves than give up that much money.

"Good deal then sir," the big guard said, releasing her death hold on Brennan. "The whelps all yours and we'll make sure none of the others bother him for a good while."

"I thank you kindly and may the twelve go with you in your endeavors," the man said. He moved his finger in a circle over his chest, tracing the twelve-pillar symbol his faith, ignoring the guard's half-contained looks of disgust as they shambled away quickly to waste their newfound wealth.

Brennan watched them leave, amazed at his sudden change of fortune before he turned to face the goat man. "I'm not sucking any worms if that's what you had in mind."

The old man erupted in laughter, patting Brennan on the shoulder hard enough for it to hurt. "Can you not hear boy? I'm a servant of the Faith. You've got no such things to worry about."

"Then why'd you pay off the guards for me?" Brennan asked.

The old man waved a calloused hand through the air, dismissing the question. "There'll be plenty of time for that later. Until then you owe me boy and I'm going to make sure I get every toke I spent back out of you," he pointed towards an elderly woman grunting as she bent over to retrieve her dirtied goods from the ground. "You can start by helping that nice woman clean up the mess you caused."

Brennan huffed but moved to help the woman anyway. He thought about taking off for the brothel, wondering if the old man was quick enough to catch him. Instead, he decided that the Madame could do without his lute for a night or two. It was better to be a servant to a rich man for a while than to spend his days being coddled over by whores and his nights scuffling in the catacombs. What was the worst that could happen?

II

One day he would marry a sister. That was an undeniable conclusion that Brennan had come to. There wasn't a single ugly one at the convent and they all gave him sweets. In comparison to his work, it seemed that he was by far getting the best of the arrangement.

The duty Goffried had left him with was to lead sister Jennah through the catacombs once a week and help her gather whatever strange things happened to catch her eye. She was his favorite and had also been the prettiest of them until the new sister Helena had shown up a few weeks ago. Helena was much closer to his age and Brennan knew he might have fallen in love with that one if she weren't already thick with child.

He looked back at the new sister's ever-present grin, smiling back at her, but wondering why she'd been brought down into the catacombs with the rest of them. This journey wasn't like the others with Jennah. His usual companion was there, but as Goffried had returned, so he'd also brought nearly a dozen others that he called Holy Mothers. These women were different from the other sisters in more than just title. Not even one of them showed signs of kindness, they all walked with their eyes on the ground, mumbled prayers non-stop, and not one of them was nice-looking.

"We close yet boy?" Goffried asked him, auburn torchlight bounding off his exposed blade.

Brennan didn't offer a response, instead, he turned the corner and let the ashah find the answer for himself. He watched Goffried pause for a moment, gaping at the doors that Brennan had tread through dozens of times. The space beyond was strange enough, surely, but so were the rest of the things the Faith had hidden within the catacombs.

The Holy Mothers' prayers grew more intense, their chanting turning into a reverent hum as they entered the chamber. Brennan looked at the ornately carved mural on the far side of the wall, once again pondering what the strange symbols meant.

"Start going about your tasks boy and be quick about it," Goffried tossed him a satchel and joined the others in their preparations.

Brennan watched closely, his hands flowing through the same procedural motions of setting out candles and scrubbing the new layers of dust away until the room shined. While Goffried stood at the entrance like a glorified guard dog, Jennah had been allotted the same bottom of the barrel duties as him, being left to stand in front of the mural and examine its strange symbols as she always did.

Helena was the only one of them that got any special treatment. She stood in front of the stone slab at the center of the room, both hands resting on her stomach with worriment marring her comely features while the Holy Mothers gathered around her. A creeping apprehension found its way into the room. It slithered along the flooring, winding its way around Brennan's knees to speed up the beating of his heart. Brennan rose from the floor, making sure to avoid Goffried's eye as he made his way over to Jennah.

"I don't like this Jen," Brennan whispered. He'd asked Goffried what was about to happen plenty of times during their trek, only to be told that the man himself didn't know before he got cuffed over the back of his head. Apparent the Holy Mothers were above even an ashah in the Faith's hierarchy. "Feels like something's about to happen. Something bad."

The sister looked down at him with a look that mirrored his own. "Wish I had answers for you, but they don't tell me much either. The only reason they brought me is that I studied the God's Tongue for a while. That's what those symbols on the wall are. The written form of the ancient language."

Brennan turned towards the Holy Mother's. There was an audible hum rising from the walls that weirdly distorted his senses, almost like he was watching everything from a dream.

"Time's come," Goffried said approaching the pair of them. Jen wavered, looking as if she might argue, before nodding and moving to convene her findings with the Holy Mother's in hushed tones. "Back of the room with you boy," Goffried jerked a thumb towards the entry. The ashah followed behind him, his tongue poking at his cheeks while he watched the ritual continue.

"I'm only going to warn you once," the ashah bent over to mutter in his ear. "If you hold any value to your life, don't do anything to intervene."

The puzzling threat caused a tremble in Brennan's spine that he was too preoccupied to hide. One of the Holy Mother's was arguing with Jennah, their arms thrusting towards the mural while their words were drowned out by the hymns of the others. The situation was getting out of hand quickly. Jennah yelled something at Helena that made the color flush from the pregnant woman's cheeks.

Helena looked about wildly, like a doe caught in a pack of wolves. The Holy Mother's reached for her, their prayers cut short, but the mind-numbing hum continuing to deafen the chamber. A dagger rose in the air and Jennah flew away from the altar, blood dripping from the gash in her arm. Brennan was halfway across the room before he'd even realized he was moving. Something struck him across the back of his legs, bringing his face to meet the floor with a thud.

He looked up just in time to catch the worst of it. Helena was splayed out on the table, a pair of hands holding down each of her limbs. The dagger crossed her throat, bringing forth a flow of crimson. The glistening steel moved down, opening her belly. Blood flowed over the edge of the altar, falling to the floor like miniature waterfalls. Instead of pooling on the ground to stain the spot of the atrocity, the crimson flow streamed together, finding passages through cracks in the floor, making its way towards the mural as if it were being sucked in. It climbed up the etchings, outlining the symbols of the stone and revealing it for what it truly was.

The crease of the doorway appeared ever so slightly, bringing forth a cloud of black smoke. The corrupting miasma screamed of a holy place besmirched with sin. With a silent voice, it swore divine retribution, corruption, defilement. Even as the blinding light within cascaded around the room, the corruption poured into the Holy Mothers. They screamed out, crying that this was wrong, that this wasn't what they intended. They raised their hands in the air, flailing about with muffled prayers to the Enlightened, begging for mercy. Their bodies warped into the first of the horrid creatures that would continue to roam the passages of the catacombs.

Goffried's boots stomped down next to Brennan's face. The boy looked up to see the fear painted on the ashah's face as the man watched the crease began to grow. A noise finally found its way above the clamor, the sounds of new life, the birth cries of a baby. Goffried flew toward the altar, shoving away the writhing forms of what had once been the Holy Mothers. Brennan lost sight of the others as he fought his way forward. A clawing fear threatened to overtake him as he thought Jennah and the ashah had been lost to the corruption as well, but both emerged in a terrified sprint, Jennah covered in blood with a bundle swaddled in her robes.

They rushed towards Brennan as he rose from the ground, the corruption spread across the floor towards them, boiling forth with whispers of harm to come. Goffried shouted something at him, pulling him towards the exit.

Despite how hard he tried, Brennan couldn't resist a last look back into the chamber and what he saw would forever stay with him. Instead of laying on the altar in death, Helena sat facing the gateway, still as stone. She refused to die, to pass away in the confines of this place. Instead of struggling against the corruption as the Holy Mothers had, she did the opposite. She accepted it, allowing it to change her body and darken her soul. It saw her for what she was, a victim, and it made her an offer; one that she gladly accepted.

Above her Brennan caught the slightest glimpse of what lay beyond the doors, it burned his brain, branding him with knowledge that he was far too young to comprehend. A powerful hand finally forced him to turn away from the scene. He left confused and scared, his bladder running hot and uncontrolled, knowing that this wasn't the last they'd seen of Helena.

III

"I used to go to the convent and play with the little girl. Watched as she learned how to walk, then talk. She used to call me Benny. Time went on and I stopped by less and less. Maybe once or twice a year at most." Brennan said, lost in a sad reminiscence. "Goffried and Jennah did their best to conceal the child's true nature. They passed her off as Jennah's misbegotten child and that was good enough for the Faith. They even changed the name her mother intended to give her to something more Ridonian," he looked away from her, unable to meet her gaze. "To Estra."

The bard had taken on a sickly complexion during his recounting of the events. If she'd asked, Estra wasn't sure he would have been able to go on, but there was no need. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, there was undeniable merit to the tale, it all made sense, and everything fit.

"Helena is my mother." Just saying the words felt like she'd made a pact with a demon.

"That's the truth of it," Brennan said, completely lacking his usual mirth. "There's more though. Jennah and the old man kept studying, trying to find a way to destroy the gate forever. What they found is that, just as the God's blood can open the gate, so can it be controlled by someone bearing enough of it. They can throw its doors wide open, slam them shut, and they can even destroy it. You've been bonded to the gate since childhood Estra, you've already witnessed half its secrets once and survived. You're an adult now, no one can use you as a key. You're the only one who can end all of this."

Estra stared down at her hands, expecting them to begin shaking at any moment. But they lay still, refusing to show the quake of emotion that was shaking her down to the core. She supposed that was the worst thing about it. No matter how shocking it was to hear, somewhere within, part of her had always known.

"Now you know who you are," Brennan said. "And you know what your faith is as well. They're willing to sacrifice young mothers and unborn children to further goals, and I'm sure you've seen more of what their willing to do than any of us. If you stay on their path, you'll soon find yourself the one committing the atrocities. Is that something you can live with?"

"Enough Brennan," Lency gave the man a look of warning.

The bard glanced at the girl before speaking to Estra in notably softer tone. "No more secrets for us to share. I know this is a lot for you to take in right now, but you've got a decision to make Estra. Join me and work to put an end to all this suffering, or side with the Faith under full knowledge of what they'd be willing to sacrifice in order to accomplish their true goals."

There was nothing holding Estra back, there were an infinite number of paths she could have taken. She could have even boarded the first boat across the ocean and left the entire ordeal behind. Her faith was unshakable as ever, her prayers would still find their way to paradise, her sword would forever swing in the name of the Enlightened, but Estra knew she could no longer struggle with the evils of the institution she served. The time had come for her to strike out on her own path.

Estra rose, turning her back on the others. She made her way to the front door of the brothel, breathing in the cool night air, leaving on her own without offering another word. She moved through the darkness lost in a sea of thoughts she felt she could drown in.

Estra didn't know how long she walked, nor how far she'd traveled, but she found herself in a packed bar, doing her best to numb her mind with the strongest drinks she had the funds for. Her night ended with a drunken stumble back to the brothel where she found the warm skin of another welcoming her just beyond the doorway. She accepted the devil's bargain, losing herself in the sinful comfort she needed, if only for a night.

CHAPTER FIVE:

Sins of A Saint

I

Estra awoke to find herself swaddled in a scarlet sea. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around warm skin to cup a breast. She lay there comforted by the courtesan's body heat, feeling the rhythm of the redheaded woman's heartbeat against her palm. A drowsy morning thought crossed her mind. If something that felt this right was a sin, then she'd never be holy again, and if she were to be punished for her who she was, so be it.

"Finally awake then, are you?" Tess rolled over to give Estra a pleasant view of her freckled nose. "You know your friends came looking for you earlier in the morning? When I told them you were here, the girl said she'd go out to buy you more wine to drink. The Holden kind, says it's your favourite."

"I'm glad you didn't wake me. I deserve all the excess rest I can find," Estra smiled. "Haven't gotten much these past few weeks."

"Oh yes, I'm sure the life of a servant of the Faith is a hard one," Tess said, rolling her eyes. "No way in dark hell that a simple woman like me could possibly know anything about work."

Estra chuckled, reaching over to the bedside table to grab the half-empty bottle from the previous night. "If you'd seen half the things I have in my travels, you might think slightly different," Estra said, passing the green glass over to Tess. "Shit, if you'd only witnessed my life since I've arrived in this city, you'd be on your way out yourself."

Tess's smile disappeared as she nodded in agreement. "Right fucking mess things are. Every day more stories come about monsters rising from the sewers to kill some trader's daughter. This city is going straight to the shitter if you ask me."

"Mhm."

Her words were true enough. Estra hefted a long sigh, watching the sway of Tess's hips as the woman moved to part the windows. Birdsong came chirping through on the first warm winds of spring. That along with the ever-present scent of rosebuds and lilac were nearly enough to bring Estra's mood from the pits. She took her own turn with the bottle as the courtesan returned to stretch out her limbs while she lay on the bedsheets. "Tell me a story, Tess."

The woman twisted around to face her. "What story do you want to hear?"

"Any," Estra answered. "Tell me about your past. Tell me how a person ends up here, doing this, living the life you do."

"I could tell you the tale of a girl who grew up in a great castle bored with the tireless routine of prancing around in up dresses, sitting at each banquet like a doll, forced to live a life of monotony until she was sold off to whatever lord's son her father chose. I could tell you how she wanted nothing more than to escape, hop on the first boat across the seas to dance on tables for the fabled muscle toned men of Kanden. I could tell you a grand story and it would all be a lie."

Estra gripped a sun-kissed thigh, a thumb stroking an old scar so out of place on a person so beautiful. "Real shame, would have been a nice tale to hear. Still, I'd be fine with the truth of things. I could use a bit of normalcy right now."

Tess seemed to consider her for a moment. Estra could see the lie on the edge of the woman's lips, ready to flow out with ease and flaunt itself around as the only truth the Blade Witch would ever know. Instead, the courtesan's expression hardened, swallowing the falsehood she'd prepared.

"Fine. I was raised in the nicer parts of town. A father that made a good living drawing maps, a mother that stayed home and cared for me and my brother. Then the Northend trade company came in and father was put out of work. He did what most men of Kanden end up doing, joined a company and died in his first skirmish. They sent his reaper's due and we stayed upright for a while. Mom took a sniff of the moon dust to lessen her grieving and she never stopped. Before long, we found ourselves in slums, waiting for mom to come home every few days with some moldy scraps for us to eat. One day she didn't and that was the last I ever saw of her. Stephin, my older brother, managed to get a pair of honest jobs on the docks. He did his best, made sure I never worried about anything, kept me in school, and most importantly, he kept the boys away. Then he caught the red fever. I tried looking for work, but eventually, I had to do what every desperate girl does. That was the first time I sold my body. Made enough to buy the medicine my brother needed."

Tess paused for a moment, turning to face the window. "He died the next day. I didn't have any particularly useful skills of my own. No man worth half a shit would have me and if I were being honest, I didn't really respect myself anymore. I've been at the brothel ever since."

"A hard life," Estra said, leaning back to stare at the beams crossing the ceiling. She didn't know what she expected. Maybe she'd thought hearing of another's troubles would lessen the nagging of her own. That had been nothing more than a fool's dream. If there was one thing she'd learned, it was that just because someone else's problems were worse, it didn't mean yours were any less relevant.

Tess flipped her head to the side, stretching out on the bed once again. "Aye, a hard year," Tess said, letting their conversation fall to the tune of morning traders shouting their wares in the streets below. Estra could feel the lazy morning mood die out and as the beginnings of the long day ahead donned on them both.

"How long are you staying today?" Tess asked, rising to wrap her silk robe around her.

"As long as you'll have me. I've got the tokes for it," Estra said. She liked the woman's forthcoming nature, and Tess seemed to bear some favor towards her, but Estra was no fool. The woman was a working one, barely above a whore, and no matter how fond they were of each other, there was no true affection between them. The only sentiments she would receive would be bought and paid for.

"Aye and I'd take your money too, but for once, it's not income I'm concerned with," Tess said, her smile thinning out at the statement. "This is the Madame's establishment, and that's likely the only reason the city guards haven't already run through it looking for anyone with ties to the resistance, but every day more and more of them come through. I see them looking Estra, keeping track of who goes to what room with whom. They find out who I've been laying with, you might find yourself no worse for wear, but I'll be strung up before the day is through."

Estra's eyes roamed over the woman before she nodded in understanding. She paid Tess well, but not nearly enough to risk her life. "I understand," Estra stretched out her limbs as she rose from the thick sheets. She found herself facing a mirror, her eyes searching over both the old scars she'd received as a girl and the fresh ones that mingled with them. "I'll leave at once. Got some business of my own that needs tending to."

The Blade Witch dressed in her full armour, feeling almost comfortable to once again don her usual garb. She gave Tess a curt kiss on the forehead in parting, wishing she could have stayed in that room forever.

She made her way to the door and the moment her hand twisted the knob it sprang open with surprising force. Brennan came tumbling through, falling forwards on his hands and knees, panting as he tried to catch his breath.

"What's wrong?" Estra asked, looking down at the man in confusion. She helped him to his feet, quickly taking in his distraught appearance. Rivers of sweat poured down his face, mixing with the blood that leaked from a scar running the length of his forehead. The wild expression in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

"It's Lency," the bard panted, tugging on her arm roughly. "We need to hurry."

Estra didn't take another moment to hesitate. She ignored Tess's shouts of questioning and went back to retrieve her blade from its post against the wall before marching down he brothel stairs and into the city streets in the bard's wake. She left the brothel, not caring about the stares of the common folk as she strode the streets with her hand already alight with golden fire.

Someone she cared for was in trouble. She'd been through this more than once in her life. Back then she'd been weak, nothing more than a frightened girl watching while the woman who'd raised her was murdered at the hands of a demon. Too many times had she been helpless when the people she cared for needed her the most. That time was long gone & that Estra was long dead. Paradise would burn before she allowed another to be taken from her.

II

The main square was thick with onlookers. It seemed as if every guard in the city was present, barking at the crowd, doing their best to contain the chaos that was threatening to spill over. Overlooking the scene was the prison that served as the base for the city guard, none of its features had changed since Estra's return to the city, but somehow it stood darker and more foreboding. In front of was a crudely constructed platform whose most prominent feature was a row of guillotines, each bearing a hungry blade, sharpened at an angle with a comfortable spot for a head to rest beneath.

"What's going on Brennan?" Estra asked closing in on the back of the crowd.

"The guard captain," Brennan wheezed behind her, still slow to recover from his rapid dash to collect her from the brothel. "He's out of control is what. Has some kind of list. Sent out his guards to collect the names at high-noon. Lency was one of them. I tried to stop them but..." He stroked a finger across the cut on his head, bringing forth a fresh trickle of blood.

The throng was thick, guards were trying to corral the common folk into sections to negligible effect. Foodstuffs were being thrown and moving closer to the platform was looking like more and more of an impossibility. Estra threw a man to the pave stones hard enough to leave his nose bloodied. He rose to his feet, fists ready to strike before he caught sight of Estra's face and made the wise decision to back away.

"Fuck is the problem over here?" A guardswoman strode forth with sunlight shining off her metal breastplate and an iron mace swinging at her side. "Won't be having any trouble, less you want to-" her words stopped short as Estra closed the gap between them, her blade springing from its sheath before the woman's hand could make it half-way to her own weapon.

The Blade Witch grabbed the woman by her collar, pulling her in close enough for spittle to fly in her face. "Where the fuck is my friend," Estra barked. "Little thing, black hair, tell me."

The woman tried to free herself to no avail, her eyes searching around wildly for backup that she wouldn't find in the midst of such a large crowd. In the end, Estra's question was answered with a chorus of noise erupting around the guillotine platform.

A man walked up the steps, each footfall echoing with a wooden creak that somehow managed to overpower the discontent of the onlookers. Guards stood upon the weathered battlements of the prison, crossbows trained and eyes scanning for any movement made against their leader. In the man's hand was a chain that led a parade of a half-dozen prisoners.

The prisoner at the head of the procession was the spectacle that quieted the crowd. He was a hunchbacked towering figure, even larger than the freakish giant on display at the nightly circus. He had a strange distortion to his physique that was plain even through his thick clothes and the leather bag thrown over his head with only a single eye hole crudely cut into it.

It occurred to Estra that she'd only seen a person so mountainous once before, though she struggled to place exactly where. Before she could chase down the memory, the sight of the prisoner at the back of the procession caught Estra's attention. Among the other bedraggled looking individuals, Lency walked with her head down, matted hair covering her face, unattended cuts and bruises lining her thin frame, along with other obvious signs of torture.

The sight stole the wind from Estra's lungs and replaced the burning heat in her body with a chilling quiet. The guard captain began his speech as Estra threw the guard to the side, making her way roughly towards the platform as all the prisoners but the giant man were forced down to their knees in front of their respective guillotines.

"The time has come for change," the guard captain's voice that cut through the noise like a scythe through water. The hum around him died down as everyone ears strained to hear his speech. "Too long has the corruption writhing beneath this city been allowed to go unchecked. You all know of what I speak. We have all allowed the Defiler to dig her claws into this once great land and sour the hearts of a people who were once righteous and free." His weathered eyes scanned the crowd warily, pausing on Estra for just a moment. "I have done the best I could to persevere. Those under my command have worked their hardest to maintain order and fight back with civility, but the time has come for harsher action. Today is the day that things change. Today is the day that those responsible will begin to face due justice."

A few shouts of agreement rose from the crowd, but more shouts of discontent gathered to flood them away.

The guard captain raised his free hand to bring some semblance of order back to the scene. "I will not lie to you all. The road to redemption will be a harsh one. There will be much bloodshed in these streets; more than I've ever wanted to see, but it must be done." He looked over his shoulder at the five prisoners kneeling behind him, each with an executioner at their side with a hand resting on a lever. "The people you see before you are each key members of the Defiler's regime. They will be where the redemption begins."

He turned to face the crowd once more, raising a hand to the giant at his side as if he were presenting a trophy. "But I am a fair man. I would never certify an execution without presenting proper evidence. The man you see before you has come to me for atonement. Once he served the Defiler, and now he wished to wash his hands clean of his sins."

Estra paused for a moment, a sudden realization washing over her, sucking the strength from her bones as a sharp pain jabbed through her abdomen.

"Please sir," the guard captain said, nodding to the giant. "State for us the crimes of each person here, including your own if you will."

The sack on the giant's head shifted as he turned to face the prisoners. The throng grew quiet enough that the jangling of the massive manacles restraining his wrists could be heard, chiming out a sort of death knoll as he spoke in a gravelly voice like a slobbering hound mad with rabies.

"Jansen, he once traveled with Helena and me for some time. He was with us when we burned down the convent on the cliffs. Haven't seen him since that night."

The guard captain faced the crowd, waiting for any protests that might come before he nodded to the executioner at the prisoner's side. The woman moved dutifully, jerking back the lever that ended the prisoner's life in a brilliant flash of silver.

As the man's head thudded into the basket waiting to collect it, the giant moved in front of a pretty woman whose neck was lined with more pearls than even the richest of Wulfdonria's society could claim to own. "This woman is a thief. Nothing more and nothing less. The things that Helena needs, but can't obtain herself, this woman finds a way to obtain for her." Another twang cried out as the second guillotine cut through the woman's neck, sending a rainfall of priceless pearls rolling across the platform. A few of the more uncouth crowd members rushed forward to collect them but found themselves warded away by the collection of guards surrounding the platform.

Next in line was a portly man with a balding head. "Martane Daltara, the elected mayor of Wulfdonria and Helena's closest ally. He only served her out of fear for his life and his family, but still, he served," the mayor opened his mouth, trying to make a whimpering plea that was cut off by a swift kick to the face from a guard who left his chin bloodied. This man's executioner didn't even wait for a signal from the guard captain before ending the mayor's life.

"This man here," the giant said, raising a finger at an elderly man devoid of both eyes and seemingly all will to live. "Is Helena's advisor. He's the one who brought Helena back to this damned city. Told her if she wanted to be free of her torment she had to face the demons of her past. Had to peer into the-"

"That's enough," the captain barked at the man, cutting off his statement. The old man rested his head readily, as if he were lying down after a hard day's work. The slanted steel that fell on him seemed to pass through with much more ease than it had for the others.

"On to the next one," the guard captain ordered.

The giant stared down the blind man's disembodied head for a while longer before he approached Lency. The strength returned to Estra's limbs once more as she shook herself from the shock that had overtaken her body. Any sense of tact she'd had about the situation was long gone as she found herself throwing men and women to the ground. As she neared the platform, her disruption brought forth the attention of the guards. They surrounded her, clubs at the ready.

Thirsty flames licking their way up the length of Estra's exposed blade without a second thought. The crowd parted quickly at the sight, making a small clearing as they moved to a safe distance. Even the guards hesitated their approach, looking at each other in doubt before one of them decided to press their luck.

The thickly muscled woman raised her club to swing, only to find her arm opened from wrist to elbow before she got the chance to make another move. The heat in the air seemed to rise to blistering degrees in an instant. The other guards pressed towards Estra to assist their wounded comrade, a few of them coming to the same harm in quick succession. Estra took wounds of her own, but it wasn't long before the guards shrank back in the face of the Blade Witch's desperate onslaught. Only a crossbow bolt whizzing by her face close enough to ruffle her hair was enough to bring Estra back to reality.

"That's enough!" the guard captain's voice rang out with the power that only a person accustomed to absolute authority could muster. Estra found herself forced to a stop as she scanned the prison walls, eyeing the crossbowmen above.

"Drop your weapon woman," the guard captain warned her. He stared down at her from the platform, only a few dozen more steps in the distance. Estra could have covered the distance with ease, if it weren't for the quickly growing collection of guards separating the two of them, not to mention that one more step closer to the prison would put her within much more manageable crossbow range.

"I can't do that," Estra said, her voice coming out in a heated snarl. "You've got someone important to me up there, and I'm not about to let you put her to death on the word of that monster."

The guard captain's brown eyes measured her carefully, taking their time in their appraisal. "The Blade Witch correct? Those flames of yours are hard to miss. I've heard a lot about you lately, especially after your debacle at the circus the other night."

Estra didn't offer the man an answer, instead, searching about for anything that might help her cause. The only thing she discovered was Brennan slowly approaching her from behind and a maddening itch running across the back of her hand.

"Tell me, who is this girl to you?" The guard captain asked, considering Lency for the first time.

"Like I said, she's someone important to me," Estra answered.

The guard captain frowned at her statement, this time glancing at the giant. "Tell me, Dost, what are this girl's crimes?"

Estra's eyes made contact with the giant's for the first time. Her face twisted into a painful snarl as the memories of her last night at the convent assailed her. There were no shortage of emotions that ran through her body, throwing her flames into a wild maelstrom of gold and scarlet, burning away her sleeve as they devoured her blade and threatened to engulf her arm entirely.

"Well, are you going to speak man?" the guard captain urged the giant.

Dost spoke without breaking his sight away from Estra, his tone going from accusing to a slow drone. "The girl is a victim herself more than anything. Helena obtained her as payoff for a debt and it's her blood that she's been using to fuel her rituals."

"So, it can be said that the girl is the root cause of this all then?" the guard captain asked.

"No," Dost stated with certainty. "This all started a long time ago. With a different girl who was just as much of a victim as this one is."

"So, you're saying the girl is innocent?" the guard captain asked, ignoring the giant's cryptic statement. "You mean to tell me that she had no choice in the matter?"

The giant man grew still enough to have been a statue. Even his breathing seemed to have stopped, but Estra could sense the thoughts running wildly through his mind before he made his next statement.

"We all have a choice," Dost said. His words carried loud enough for the entire crowd to gather, but they seemed to be directed solely at Estra. "One thing I've learned throughout my life. There is no innocence in Eldrin."

The guard captain rubbed a hand through his greying beard, his brow creasing as he came to a decision. "That's that then," he approached to guillotine himself, resting a hand on the lever. Lency raised her head for the first time, her blood-soaked hair falling free as she faced Estra with tortured grey eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came through the girl's broken jaws, only a long moan that tore the Blade Witch's heart from her chest. "The girl's fate is sealed Blade Witch, and your actions have made it more than clear where you stand. It's a shame, coming from someone who's supposed to stand against those like the Defiler, but if you're not with us then you're against us. That's the way the world works."

Estra dropped her weapon, rushing towards the platform in desperation. The guards moved out of her way, both wary of the blazing hand she stretched towards Lency and sure that she wouldn't make it in time. She had just come to the edge of the steps when the thrum of the lever releasing its burden sounded out, carrying with it the sad song of glistening steel cutting its way through both a young life and Estra's last hope for any justice in the world.

Jet black hair, struck the side of the wicker basket, causing the wicker basket to tip over and sent its load rolling down the steps to come to a rest against Estra's boots. The Blade Witch looked down into the eyes of the only friend she'd ever known. A rainfall of tears falling from her face into the pool of blood gathering beneath her soles.

For an instant, everything turned into a meaningless nothing that stole away her thoughts and senses. Her mind was blank, every sight around her was featureless, the ever-present slosh of the crashing waves in the distance faded into white noise, and the world seemed unfathomably distant.

Somewhere in that faraway place, a bard placed his hand on her shoulder, blistering his own skin trying to pull her away. Then everything came back in a thunderclap of blazing fury. A scream that could bring fear to a dead man's heart cried out to the sky. Golden flames stretched out their long tendrils recklessly, feasting on both the guards that protected their leader and the innocent bystanders that trampled each other in their helpless attempt to find safety. The person that had once cared for the safety of the innocent was nowhere to be found. In her place stood a person suffering in anguish. One whose only thought was to burn away all the suffering she'd ever witnessed in this world.

Bolts rained down on the Blade Witch without direction as they tried to find a target while blinded by the light of her power. A few of them inevitably found their goal, dulled by her armour, but still managing to sink deep into her skin and bring Estra to her knees. As her flames died out a guard rushed towards her, weapon raised and prepared to risk his own life to end the massacre. The tired woman looked up, nothing left to give, and fully prepared to take the blow. Instead, an enormous fist crashed into the side of the guard's helmet, denting in the metal and sending the man flying.

The last scene that Estra saw before she fell unconscious was a confusing one. A giant stood over her, hands outstretched, creating a barricade between her now vulnerable form and her would-be assailants. The guard captain approached, exchanging heated words with the giant. The discussion was intense and lengthy, but apparently some agreement was reached and weapons were holstered, just before cold manacles were slipped onto Estra's wrists and she found herself being dragged towards the towering walls of the prison she'd once told herself only the cursed and the godless would ever find themselves wandering.

III

The jailer's footsteps were slow and methodical, completely out of rhythm with the clanging of his keys against the bars of the empty cells that he passed. Then there was the tune that he whistled, it was much too cheerful for the occasion.

That melody he sang was one fit for springtime weather, meant to be sung by children at play or grandmothers doing needlework in their rocking chairs. The ugly sensation emanating from the dull grey walls overpowered it completely.

This place suffocated everything pleasurable about the world. The sunlight trying to reach through the tiny cell window was too weak to illuminate the bleak darkness, the hard floor carried a chill that could soak through bone, and the salted air was chokingly humid. Everything was wrong.

_Then again, nothing seems appropriate in the moments before a hanging._ Estra thought to herself. She peered into the cell across from her, carefully eyeing the rise and fall of the jails only other inhabitant.

Dost was sound asleep, or at least he appeared to be. Part of her was glad that he'd been assigned to the same fate as her, and even more so that she'd get to watch him die before she met her own fate. The other half of her was sickened by the fact that she'd be forced to spend the last day of her life locked away with him as her only companion. She looked down at the thick manacles encircling her wrists. They were old and worn, but they were still diamidian. The dark material sucked the magic from her bones and everything around her, and that was the sole reason she hadn't finished burning this thrice-damned city and everything in it to the ground.

"Rise and glow Blade Witch," the jailer said, finally making his way to her cell. Estra looked up at the thickly muscled man, long over the fact that he was the same person whose home she'd once hidden at in the slums. The jailer fumbled through his ring of keys, doing his best to balance a pair of sparse food treys in the other. He spat a curse from his mustachioed lips as he struggled to get the key to turn in the rusted lock before the door finally came swinging open.

The man offered her the trey, allowing her a moment to stare at him blankly before he shrugged and set it down on the ground indifferently. He repeated the same routine for Dost, not bothering to wake the man before he turned to make his departure.

"Nothing to say?" Estra called after him.

The guard looked over his shoulder quizzically. Likely surprised to hear her speak for the first time in the days since the massacre.

"What is there to say, lass?"

"Today's the last you'll ever see me," Estra said. "I've been waiting for you to take your chance to curse me. Call me all the horrid things I know you want to. To tell me how much of a monster I am."

"That's not the kind of man Elmont is," both Estra and the jailor looked over at Dost's cell. Neither the Blade Witch, nor the giant had spoken during their stay in the prison, yet somehow, he'd still managed to be the quieter of the two. He rolled over on his mat to face them, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "You burned more than a few of his friends, but you won't hear a word from him about it. He's thinking plenty right now, but he'll always keep it to himself and do what needs to be done. Even after all these weeks, he's been watching over me, I still don't understand it myself, but that's just the way the man works. That's why he was chosen to be our guard."

"Just a man trying to do his job and go home to his family at the end of the day is all," the jailer said. His eyes flickered back and forth between Estra and Dost, "I'll be back in an hour when you need me. That should give the two of you more than enough time to talk." He nodded at Dost before making his exit.

The giant and the Blade Witch remained staring at each other until Dost broke the silence. "I suppose you know the truth about you and Helena now? That she's your mother."

Estra ignored the man's question, instead choosing to pose one of her own. "I should have died in the square. Why'd you save me?"

"Because I didn't want to see you die," Dost answered plainly. "I didn't want to see your friend die either. In fact, I begged Heston to give her mercy the night before he brought us to the guillotines. He gave me his word that no more harm would come to her. Said he'd only bring her out as an example and give her the chance to declare loyalty to his cause. That way more of the defiler's supporters would be wont to do the same. I guess you cutting open his niece's arm had some effect in changing his mind on the matter."

Estra grunted at the man's words. No matter how much she wanted to call him a liar, her gut told her that his words were the truth. "So that's it then? My friend dies because you trusted a madman. Now I find myself about to end my days hung next to you."

"You won't die tonight Blade Witch," Dost said. "At least not by hanging anyway."

Estra looked up at him, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"You don't even understand how fortunate you are to have a man like Brennan the Bard on your side," Dost said, shaking his head with the disapproving tone of a man speaking to a child. "You may be one hell of a fighter, but you're woefully oblivious to the way things work. Check beneath your tray there, I believe our friendly jailer left a little present for you."

Estra shifted the trey to the side, finding a piece of paper neatly folded beneath it, a golden rose elegantly scrawled on its surface.

"What's it say?" Dost asked

Estra bent over picking up the letter, almost reading Brennan's hastily scrawled text aloud before she remembered who she was speaking to.

"City is in chaos.

Guards raiding homes every hour.

Jailer is one of us.

You can trust him.

He'll lead you out of prison.

_Meeting at_ convent _ruins._

Must end this tonight."

Estra's eyes stayed glued to the letter

"It's an escape plan correct?" Dost said as more of a statement than a question. "If that's the case, then take me with you."

A harsh laugh arose from Estra as the man's suggestion. "And what in dark hell do you think would possess me to help _you_?"

"Given the past, I can understand why you hate me. I've come to hate myself as well.," Dost said, his slurred speech growing somber. "I beat a little girl half to death only moments after helping murder everyone she knew. I have my own reasons for hating the Faith, but what I did to you, I did out of anger and grief. Yes, I'd just lost a brother, but I was still the one in the wrong. I know that now. I don't blame you for wanting your justice, but you should know that I've already been punished."

"Ha," Estra spat hard enough for her saliva to cross the distance between the bars that separated them, landing on the sack that covered the man's face for her to watch as it rolled down. "Fuck whatever justice you think has been served. If it hasn't been dealt by my hand then it isn't worth shit to me."

Dost froze for a moment, before giving a long sigh and a slight nod. He reached up, gloved hands tugging at the sack on his head. When the leather fell away a revolted gasp found its way through Estra's lips.

The giant man's face looked as if it was made of wet clay, sloughing off to one side to the point that his eye was no longer visible and cracked like dried earth on the other. Only a few strands of hair were left on a head that was overgrown with odd lumps and warts that protruded at every interval. It occurred to Estra that she'd never seen a more horrid sight, even for someone whose sole duty was hunting down the wretches of the world.

"Helena wasn't always insane. When I met her, she was just a hurting woman that wanted revenge against an institution that I have plenty of reasons to despise as well," Dost explained, spittle flying from his mouth uncontrollably as he spoke. "That was a long time ago. She's mostly insane at this point, but she still has her moments of clarity."

"When you showed up in the city and she saw you through the eyes of her watcher, she grasped at sanity for an instant. That's when she realized who you were," he pointed a thick finger at his face. "That was when she remembered what she'd allowed me to do to you. This was the punishment I received. I'd held out hope for her up until that point, but eventually, I had to come to the realization that she was too far gone to be helped."

The giant continued facing her, a look of pain crossing his face as he allowed her to take in his condition. "Words are meaningless to the Enlightened. They only take their penance in deeds and sacrifice," Dost said, reciting _The Exaid_. "Those are the words of your holy text correct?" He waited for Estra to give a curt half-nod before he continued. "As you can see, the corruption already has a strong hold on me. I don't have long left in this world, and the life I've lived so far hasn't been worth much. I know what I'm asking, believe me, but would you at least give me the chance to make up for at least one of the sins I've committed?"

Estra roamed over the man, taking in every distorted curve of his figure, unable to grasp the kind of suffering he must have gone through. Deep down she knew it wasn't truly satisfying, having not come from her own hand, but for the time being, it would be enough. Estra thought over her choices for a moment before rising to her feet. Her rage was no less virulent, but the sight of Dost's condition had given her the chance to think things through.

"When this is done, yours will be the first life I take," Estra said, rising from her sleeping mat. "We go tonight," with that she sat back in her cell and waited for the last minutes of the hour to tick away.

CHAPTER SIX:

Shadows Beneath The Light

I

The escape from the prison had been a surprisingly uneventful one. Elmont had proven to be more than a capable guide, leading them through the back halls of the sprawling complex, out a doorway guarded by two men that pretended not to notice them and through the city streets with ease.

Now Estra stood amidst the rubble of the place she'd once called home with her lantern raised high. The slow crash of the waves below seemed to add a sad music to backdrop the decrepit ruins of the convent and the silvered moonlight made sure that no detail went unexposed. Little purple flowers had decided to grow over the ruins, trying their best to cover up the sins that had once stained the ground with blood and ash.

"Found it," Dost grunted, throwing the remnants of the rotted altar aside to reveal the doorway of the passage beneath.

"All this time," Estra said, watching as the man tested the lock. She'd spent the first twelve years of her life living in this place with no inkling of the secrets being kept right beneath her.

"This passageway leads to a tunnel that'll take us directly to the catacombs beneath the prison. Something that the Faith cooked up after Wulfdonria's declaration of freedom," Brennan explained, watching as Dost tugged at the doorways rusted latch fruitlessly. He motioned the giant out of the way, pulling a familiar set of instruments from the folds of his cloak. Within seconds the lock came open with an audible click.

"So, everyone in this city knows how to pick a lock then?" Dost asked, echoing Estra's own thoughts.

"That's about the gist of it," Brennan said, hoisting the lid open, "Just one of those things they teach in every school, right along with how to properly pry tokes from a tourist's pocket."

The four of them descended into the passageway with Estra taking up the rear. The stairs seemed to spiral beneath the earth forever, sinking them further and further into the jaws of unknown horrors. Estra's skin crawled with unease by the time they finally reached the catacombs.

"Best prepare yourselves," Dost said, brandishing a massive great axe that could have only been made for his hands alone. "Nothing but the dark and the dead lurking down here."

The group trod slowly, ever wary of the danger hiding at the edge of their lamplights. When the passageway leveled out Estra was offered her first proper view of the maze lying beneath the city of no nights. She'd expected walls of stone, embedded with yellowed skulls. Instead, she found herself traversing halls lined with metal barred rooms, as if it were only an extension of the prison somewhere above them.

The Blade Witch leaned in close to one of the cells, straining to see into the dark recesses that hid its contents. There were only two pieces of furniture left to identify, an overturned table and what must have once been a bed. Dark stains covered the cell from floor to ceiling, marking some struggle that she could only guess at.

It wasn't until they'd traveled too far to turn back that they ran into the first of the corrupted.

It stood blocking their path forward. A blueish mass of flesh and bone, with an arm that ended in a misshapen clublike stump. The group stood in a still silence watching as its eyes rolled lazily to observe them. Estra called forth her flames, devoid any misgivings that she'd be able to conserve her strength.

The creature lumbered forward, each step causing a shower of dirt as its head scraped knotted against the top of the passageway. It threw its arm back, releasing an ear-splitting wail as it prepared to strike. Elmont was the first to meet it; crushing his hammer into the monster's side, causing its own blow to go flailing into the wall.

Dust blanketed the passageway, but Estra caught just enough of the creature's position to send a stream of flames hurling towards it. Even that proved to be less than enough to kill the thing.

Though its skin sagged under the heat of Estra's power, it still moved forward with the mindless tread, heedless of the concept of wellbeing. It flailed around as the golden flames consumed its body, catching Elmont with a wild strike that sent the man tumbling backward. Estra stepped towards it as Elmont rose at her side, both intent on meeting the monstrosity head on. Before either got the chance, Dost flew past to deliver a flurry of inhumanly savage axe blows, sending carnage flying all around them as the monster grew still.

When the ordeal was over, the four of them stood over the body, looking at each other in silence. Estra knew what they were all thinking. How could something so disturbing come into existence? How many more of them would they have to face before they reached the sorceress?

"Void take Helena for giving life to these things," Estra spat out, stepping over the corpse as Dost took up the lead once again.

"Wasn't Helena that made them this way," Dost grumbled. "You saw him as well as the rest of us. The scraps of peasant's garbs hanging from him, not the uniform of a Broken Pillar. Likely some poor man that lost his way down here some way or another. If anything did this to him, it was the sins of your faith."

The man's words had credence to them, that much Estra couldn't deny. Instead of agreeing with him, she kept her thoughts to herself. Her own questioning of the Faith had already become a constant thorn in her side, the last thing she needed was someone like Dost providing more fuel for her doubts.

"The way you defend her, I'd say you loved Helena," Brennan said from the back of the group.

Dost looked over his shoulder, making an unrecognizable expression with his deformed face, "I suppose I did for a time. Would have followed her to the hall of bones if she'd asked me to," he turned his eyes back towards their route. "But the woman I knew is long gone. All she wants now is the see into the chasm. All she wants is to speak with the ancient dead. The secrets of the God's, that's what she's after."

A tortured moan up ahead ended the conversations abruptly. Brennan called them to a stop to gather his bearings before choosing another route through the underground maze. The path they took lead them past what Estra initially mistook for jail cells, cordoned off by rusted iron bars. It wasn't until one of the creatures trapped inside reached out to grab her coat that Estra realized what the rooms really were.

She took the things hands off in one broad stroke, jumping away as it fell back shrieking. It looked like nothing more than a little girl, starved down to a gaunt-faced skeleton and left to die. But further inspection showed the elongation of her arms and the claws that tipped each of her detached hands.

Estra shined her light on the room as Brennan made a clumsy sword swing through the bars to put the creature out of its misery. The grey floor of the space was splattered with blood that covered everything from the overturned work tables to the instruments that had once been on them. Turning in a slow circle, Estra could see similar setups in each of the other cells. Her stomach twisted into a sick knot as the purpose of this space came to light.

"I suppose there was more credence to the rumors than most people thought," Elmont said as he moved forward.

"These were the Faith's experiment rooms," Dost said. "Where they tried to figure out what made each sacrifice different from the others. During the inquisition, they took their prisoners down here. Did things to them I can only guess at, but you see the results for yourselves. The declaration of freedom ended all that, but thanks to your convent, they had an avenue to continue their studies, albeit somewhat limited. Still, what the bard helped them discover down here was enough to merit another try. You know the rest of how that story goes."

Estra continued with her head down, incapable of finding the strength to face the atrocities of the people she served. The further they went, the more the corrupted's numbers swelled. There was no end to the terrible things, each of them more twisted than the last. The group moved with hurried steps; every shadow suggesting more enemies for them to face, every footstep met with tortured groans echoing in the distance.

Estra moved with the zombified stride of someone walking into the maw of hell itself. Her body went through the motions; her magic sprang to life with feverish power, her sword sang its lustful song, but her mind was locked on a single goal. It was that incentive that kept her going through all the carnage. It was that singular driving force that found her standing in a chamber, surrounded by things too deformed to give comparison to.

Something that may have once been a dog leaped at Estra from the side, only to have its head lopped off midflight. Three came at her together, not with any sense of strategy, but because their bodies had become fused like melted candies in child's pocket. Just as they approached as one, so did they find their end, consumed in a blaze of searing flames that made their skin bubble and pop.

A long, thin thing, managed to slip close enough to rake a long claw against her armor, finding a weak point in her chainmail that left a ragged gash behind. It lost its head to Dost's axe and Estra got the impression that the man had been sacrificing himself to cover her back the entire time. She buried the thought for the moment, turning her attention back to the more pressing matter.

The four of them hacked about with their weapons, never failing to strike a target, no matter how haphazard their swings went. Even with Brennan joined in on the fighting, for what little he was worth, it became apparent to Estra that they were fighting a losing battle.

"Go!" Dost boomed. The deformed giant pointed down a passageway that led to nothing but darkness. "The bard can lead you." He swung his axe, sending something close to a tentacle soaring over their heads.

Estra almost began to protest his offer of self-sacrifice but shut her jaws when she recalled who she was speaking to. Instead, she gave him a final glance over her shoulder, shared a nod with the man, and cut her way towards the passage with Brennan close at her back and Elmont bringing up the rear

She listened to the giant man's roars as he gave way to his corrupted mind, throwing himself into a crimson frenzy that shook the walls. If there was any way for Dost to make up for his past transgressions, this was likely as close as it got. That was as far as Estra could get to offering him praise. Estra continued her tread through the reeking passages, the flames enveloping her hand standing as the sole source of light. Somewhere within she would find vengeance against Helena the Defiler. In the depths of this place, her journey would come to an end.

II

The trail beneath the ruined prison seemed to go on forever, swirling downward into the earth further than any would believe if only viewed it from the outside. The dark corridors were lit only by the occasional red flames of mage lamps, casting a suggestively sinister red glow over the three figures walking these forgotten paths. The only sound that followed their footsteps was the rhythmic splashing of blood drops falling from their armor, most of it from the corrupted, some of it their own.

They walked in an anxious daze, having gone a surprising while without meeting any monsters, yet never being allowed the peace of mind to let their guard down. Strangely enough, as the going became easier for them, Estra's sense of trepidation only escalated. There was a silent vibration humming from the walls, piquing her senses to a razor's edge. She could sense that things were coming to a head and turned a corner to find that she was correct.

A pair of looming double doors yawned at the end of the passageway, sucking in all the warmth of the place and breathing out an ominous red glow that suggested only the darkest things. Estra stepped towards the gateway, intent on facing her long-awaited destiny head-on, only to stop at the sound of something approaching from within.

The creature in the shadows sprang forward and Estra raised her sword high to cut it down, nearly choking on the breath she'd inhaled when it proved to be nothing more than a fattened rat. She watched the animal fade into the blackness once more, wondering how much of the corruption had already set into her. Measuring how far she'd strayed from her sanity in this place. Even after the rodent left behind nothing but darkness, Estra's eyes traced its path, watching as it wound its way between Elmont's feet and swerved to avoid Brennan's. She had the distant thought of following it back the way she'd come. The idea of retreat was a comforting one to have and she almost tricked herself into thinking it was something she was capable of before turning to take another step into the prison that was slowly crushing her soul.

As her footfall echoed down the halls, another noise came back to greet it. Estra paused, straining her ears for a moment. A melodious singing carried from the space beyond the doorway. Not the ominous chant of a cult at prayer to their dark gods like she might have expected, but the kind of soothing lull that a mother might hum for her child at bedtime.

There was a disarming familiarity to it. Like something once heard it in a past life. The sound pulled her forward, beckoning her towards the ruby glow. As Estra reached the threshold she was afforded a proper view of the cavernous chamber.

The source of the red light was a near blinding glare erupting from the slit of an even more impressive pair of ornately carved doors set into the far wall of the room. Even if the glyphs etched into it hadn't made things clear, Estra would have known from sight alone that this was a place touched by the hands of the ancients. But that magnificent sight wasn't what held her attention.

At the center of the room, bathed in the crimson light, a figure stood before a stone slab. A distant numbness crawling its way through Estra's body as she took in every aspect of the woman. Her slender figure, the bleach-white hair, dark veins webbing their way down the back of her neck; she felt as if she were suddenly standing in the past, trapped in another of her recurring nightmares.

Estra took a step forward, the clap of her boot heel falling against hard stone cutting off the song as her arrival was announced. The moment she crossed the threshold, the Defiler's magic overtook her. It felt as if she'd strode headlong into a river of mud, her steps slowing to a crawl, every movement requiring ten-times the effort, and she could see the same effect taking hold on her companions.

Helena turned to face them slowly, her glossy red eyes pausing on Brennan, and locking themselves with Estra's. After all this time, she'd come face to face with the woman who'd tormented her for so long.

"I've been waiting for you," Helena said, her lips curling up into a half-smile.

Even the woman's voice remained the same, bringing that same sensation of a worm boring its way through Estra's head. She'd played this moment over a nearly infinite number of times. Estra had imagined herself roaring with rage, her sword lashing about. She'd imagined casting her flames against the sorceress's dark magic. There was no end to all the imagery she'd conjured up, yet she found herself standing still as stone, expressionless and numb. That was the truest form of what she was feeling now that she stood on the precipice. No mindless anger, or screams of revenge, but a solemn understanding that the suffering of her long journey would be over soon, as would the Defiler's spell that held her in place.

Towering figures loomed from the shadows, one on each side of Helena, to stand as both her guards and the most corrupted beings the catacombs had to offer. "Many have suffered beneath my hand and I bear endless guilt for each of them," Helena said, her smile never failing to falter. "Yet for some reason, your face alone has remained branded in my thoughts. I've always pondered why that might be, what makes this one simple girl so different from all the others? Why is that?"

Estra almost wanted to answer the woman, to tell her everything, to call her mother. Instead, she shook the urge from her head, feeling the weight on her shoulders being to slack.

"We didn't come here for discussion," Brennan yelled, his voice conveying anger for the first time Estra had ever heard.

"Ah, yes of course," Helena said with a nod. She looked down at the child for a moment, running her blackened nails through its hair tenderly. "You came to see into the chasm as well, have you not?" Helena turned away from them lifting a glass jar filled to the brim with crimson liquid. "The time has almost come. Only a little more of the God's blood is needed. I wish I could share, truly I do, but only one can speak with the souls of the ancients. They'll only divulge their secrets to a single person and it must be me. For the good of us all."

The moment the Helena began to raise the last of Lency's blood to her lips her spell faded away. Estra hurled a throwing knife with arcane precision into the back of the woman's shoulder, prying a scream from the Defiler's lips and sending her guards into an uproar. The sorceress turned on them, raising her hands to play the massive flesh colossuses like marionettes.

"Go for the blood," Elmont shouted at Brennan, closing in on the guards with Estra right beside him. His hammer took one in the side, sending out a resounding crunch. Estra flew forward, barely ducking as the other creature brought down a hand of knotted flesh and bone shards.

Her flames sprang to life, peeling back layer upon layer of rotting flesh. Entire bodies fell free from the mass, convulsing with life of their own before falling still once more. Estra took her blade in both hands, allowing her power to overtake the sword entirely, making the starsilver glow and sear and bring forth the acrid stench of burning flesh with each swing.

She watched as Brennan rounded the fray, coming up on the opposite side of the altar, where the Defiler had her back turned as she focused all her energy on controlling her two dolls. The bard swiped up the jar of blood in the practiced motion of a skilled thief and made for the exit with haste. That much was a relief to Estra, even as she danced the steps of death, the thought that at least one of her friends might survive the night almost brought a smile to her face.

A slight faltering step in a pool of gore stole the joy from Estra's heart. The monster roared in delight that could have only reflected the Defilers thoughts as it stopped Estra's tumble with a knee thrust into her face.

The force of the blow sent her into a sprawling backflip, crashing into the other guard hard enough to send both of them to the ground. Estra managed to turn her tumbling into a roll and came up on wobbling knees. Elmont moved without hesitation, rushing towards the Defiler to take a swing that she barely got her second sentinel in front of. The head of his hammer buried itself in flame softened flesh, spraying a fountain of foul fluids onto the man.

Estra turned away from the scene, bringing her attention back to her own enemy. It was slow in rising from the ground, having to force its parts to work in tandem proving to be its weakness. The Blade Witch took advantage of its misfortune, ignoring the hammering pain in her head and propelling herself toward the colossus's back.

She used the enlarged bones of its exposed spine as stairs that brought her up to its head, raising her sword up with a blaze that matched the red luster of the chamber with a blazing gold. The monstrosity managed to gather its legs up beneath it, reaching towards the woman standing on its shoulders in desperation. Its long fingers reached around her head from the side, a claw slipping into her mouth. The jagged nail played with her tongue, mutilating her screams as it pulled its way through. The finger found its way to freedom through her lips, splitting her cheek in half from the inside. The agony was indescribable, as if scalding metal had been poured over half her head.

Estra blindly thrust her blade down, sinking it to the hilt in the base of the brute's neck. There was a wild tremor that threw her to the ground, a shriek of anguish that arose from both the monster and the Defiler, as it thrashed about madly before it lay still.

Estra reached a hand to her face in a weakened attempt at healing, fingers sliding wetly over exposed teeth. She didn't take the time to watch the bodies unravel from the colossus form. She called her sword back to her hand and wheeled around with the intent to assist Elmont. He was performing an astounding act, twirling with the ease of a man half his size, each movement carrying his hammer in broad arks. Still, he proved a step too slow now that the Defiler's full attention was solely on one of her creations.

The monster moved with accelerated speed, catching him with a club-arm to the thigh, then Elmont was hoisted in the air and thrown down hard enough to bounce up again. Estra had nearly closed the gap to assist him before she saw her opening. With her mind consumed by her effort to kill Elmont, the Defiler had left herself blind to the world. The sorceress stood with both arms raised above her head and a black froth dribbling from her mouth, the exact mimicry of her flesh puppet. In that moment her power was unimaginable, her visage was terrifying, and she was entirely exposed to an attack.

Estra saw her opportunity and took it, planting a foot in the ground to veer towards the sorceress. Just as she went to lay her death blow upon Elmont, Estra lay one of her own.

For a second time in only a handful of moments, another scream rang out. This one was easily more anguishing than the last. It sang of a depthless torment being released, years of suffering coming to an end, and tears that had never been allowed to see the face of the world. It took Estra a moment to realize that this roar was her own.

There was thunderclap as the second colossus came crashing down, then the room grew silent in the face of what it bore witness to. The sorceress looked down at the blazing steel plunged into her stomach. The darkness of her veins began fading away as the black blood poured over Estra's hand. The Blade Witch stood over the woman, sucking in loud gasps of air, digging her feet into the ground to twist the blade deeper. A strangely timid whine came forth at her efforts, something that Estra could have almost mistaken for a display of humanity.

A shuffle of movement next to her foretold Elmont's survival. "Estra, you've got to destroy the Gate," Elmont said, dropping a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Now or never. The corrupted are likely to be headed this way. We should be long gone before they get here."

Estra pulled back, releasing her sword to examine the Defiler. She watched, waiting for the closure she was so justly due, but the sorceress didn't seem ready to die yet. That was fine with her. There were still questions that needed answering.

"Leave," Estra tried to speak without breaking her eyes away from the broken woman crumpled on the ground at her feet. Her words coming out in a senseless moan, but Elmont got her meaning. A long silence hung in the air before Elmont responded with a grunt that Estra knew to be agreement. He patted her on the shoulder and made his exit.

As Elmont's footfalls faded, Estra made her way towards the red light, staring into the depths of the unknown. She walked up to the gateway, not needing to offer it any blood since most of what her body held was already flowing between her fingers. The gateway drank its fill, accepted her sacrifice, and showed her its secrets. Before Estra the doorway parted, giving her the full view of the Chasm of Souls.

The undying souls of the ancients trapped on the other side loomed in front of her, their ethereal forms beckoning her to step in and join them. They spoke to her with images instead of words. Playing their knowledge across her mind.

First, she saw the realm the corruption had come from, what she could only discern to be the dark voids of hell itself. Estra demanded to see another sight and the chasm relented. She saw the land of the gods, where the Enlightened themselves roamed. She saw the truth of the cataclysm that had brought about their ascension. The tortured souls told her the secrets of Eldrin and the realms beyond. She saw all things, more than her mind could possibly consume. Of all that she learned, nothing was more pressing than the last of them. The second cataclysm was nigh, and the dance with gods would soon begin.

Estra's golden irises were forever stained ruby, marking her as one who had witnessed. When she was sure madness would overtake her, Estra commanded the chasm to close, this time forever. The souls trapped within obeyed her fervently, almost seeming to praise her for ending their millennia of suffering. The light faded away as the doors crumbled to dust and left behind nothing but a blank wall to mark its place.

Estra had no idea how long she stayed rooted in place, it could have been minutes, or hours, though she was sure she would have bled out by then. Eventually, she found herself alone with Helena, silently reminiscing over how their roles had switched. When they'd met it had been her who'd laid on the ground, helplessly suffering in agony while the older woman watched. Now they stood at exchanged ends. Ashah to Sorceress, the Blade Witch to the Defiler, mother to daughter; it almost seemed poetic.

Estra fell to her knees next to the sorceress, still a full head taller than her mother. The Defiler looked up at Estra with the strangest of expressions, as if an epiphany had occurred in her dying moments. The soulless red that ruled over her eyes began to fade away, shrinking back until the whites could be seen and they returned to the dark emerald shade that was natural to her. Slowly the woman began to take on more human qualities that revealed some semblance of the person she once was.

There was a question on Helena's raised eyebrows, one that brought tears flowing freely from her eyes and a depthless sadness to her face. A mother's hand reached towards Estra's face and Estra allowed their skin to meet. She waited for an explanation, hoping that all her lifelong questions would be answered. Instead, Helena looked into her eyes with a single word planted on her lips as she stroked Estra's with the most tender of touches.

"Sannishka?" The sensation of flesh stitching itself back together passed over Estra as Helena's hand fell from her face. That last puzzling statement of her true name was all the Defiler uttered before her body fell limp.

Finally, Estra's years of training had come to fruition. All her torment had been paid in full. All her suffering had been avenged. Yet Estra experienced no feelings of glee or fulfillment. This was no moment of triumph that the storybooks spoke of. No angels sang songs from the sky, and no divine light washed over the dark cavern to mark her grand accomplishment. There was no sudden sensation of closure. For Estra, as lay on the cold ground looking into the face of a woman who still smiled though there was no life in her, the mother she'd just killed, this only felt like a sin.

Estra shut her eyes tightly, knowing that she didn't have it within her to open them again. She wondered what she could have been. She'd spent her entire life in service to the Faith, doing her best to live a faithful, honest life. They'd rewarded her with a life of eternal suffering. In the end, it seemed that her fate would be met in a dark place hidden beneath the surface of the world.

She saw nothing, felt nothing, but there was still some life in her hearing. She could faintly hear the roars of a man and the shrieks of dying things. The sounds of a hammer crushing stone came to mind. It danced with the wet noise of a steel being pulled from a body. Inhuman footfalls were the only sound in the silence that followed. Something gripped around her leg, dragging her across the floor as easily as a child would a doll, back to whatever corner of hell it had made its layer in. Estra allowed herself to slip away into the void, giving into the sirens calling her, then she waited to die.

Epilogue

The ruffling of sheets carried through the tent, stirring Brennan from his half-slumber. He looked up to find the Blade Witch staring back at him. There was a question hovering over her, as he'd expected there to be.

"Dost," Brennan answered. "No idea how he managed it, but he fought his way through hell and back to bring you out. He was half dead and a quarter sane by the time he arrived. Asked us to put him out of his misery and Elmont obliged."

She tried to say something, her words coming out unintelligible.

"The doctire made it clear how bad the damage to your face was," Brennan said, moving to stand over her. "Said there's a good chance you may never speak again. We brought in the only healer we could find. He claimed there was nothing more he could do, that magic much more powerful than his own had already been applied and it was likely the only reason you survived."

She brought a hand to her face, sitting up on the bed. Brennan reached over, picking up the mirror that he'd been keeping at his side for just this occasion. He handed it to the woman, waiting for her response. Her lips curled back as she caught sight of her ruined face, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. The colossus's claws had parted her cheek from the side of her lips to the back of her jaw. The rapid healing done afterward had left behind an atrocious scar through which the sides of her teeth could still be seen. To go along with that, one of her eyes had also been permanently stained red, no doubt an after effect of what she'd seen in the chasm.

"There's more," Brennan said, almost hating himself for being the one to tell her. "The Faith brought the rest of their force to take control of the city from Heston. They've been leading regular excursions into the catacombs, thinking they'll find something. Things in the city are pretty bad." He sucked in a long breath before he continued. "But in the long run, everyone will come out of this much better off, thanks to you."

That was everything, or at least as much as the Brennan thought she could handle. He watched her closely, waiting for her sobbing to begin, or any show of real emotion at all. Instead, she continued to stare blankly at the mirror, her thoughts somewhere far away. He wondered once again what she'd seen in the chasm. He himself had taken only a peek when he was a boy watching Helena's ritual and he'd quickly found that he couldn't withstand it. Whatever she'd witnessed, it had stolen her humanity. The woman he stood over now was nothing more than a pale ghost of the fiery person he'd once known.

A mismatched pair of eyes turned his direction, not really looking at him, but through him. Her fingers moved in a clumsy attempt at the signs. Luckily for her, he'd studied the signs a little himself, so he understood her meaning. "Me? I'm going to Roehara. I've got demons of my own that need tending to." Thoughts of a man named Grim came to his mind. Memories that he'd kept submerged for far too long.

"Where will you go?" Brennan asked, hoping she'd offer to travel with him. Her hands moved again, telling him she didn't know, giving him the perfect opportunity to present his next news to her. "This came for you while you were out." Brennan passed her a letter, that had once been stamped with the seal of the United. A message that the bard had taken the liberty of opening and reading. "It's from a man I've been searching after for a long time... He's your father Estra. He wants to meet you. Asks that you come to the capital of Estifal. Where Elmont and I happen to be going ourselves."

" _Then that's where I'll go_ ," Estra signed to him without even making the attempt to read the letter.

"What about your faith?" Brennan inquired, unable to withhold the question. If he'd known what she'd seen he would have never asked.

" _Fuck the Faith_ ," Estra signed. " _All that I have been led to believe is a lie. The gods are a fallacy and my religion is a delusion. I was blinded by the false light that the Faith veils itself with, but now I know the truth of the darkness that hides beneath. The second cataclysm is nigh. Soon the dance of gods will begin._ "

THE END

If you enjoyed The Blade Witch, you'll Love

The Silent War

Coming in 2019, the first book in an all new Songs of Eldrin trilogy.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Nygel Oglesby is an avid reader and lifelong lover of books, athletics, anime, and video games. He currently lives in San Diego, California where he is currently at work on his next book.

