It took two nights to reach Chepstow, slowed by hunger and the relentless hallucinations that plagued me as night fell. The town lay exactly as I had left it—broken and forgotten. Bodies, stripped of their flesh and pillaged, were piled atop each other in the center, reminding me of the ruthless violence that took place here so many winters ago.
This was where Dunstan had left us, even betrayed us. At the time, I had accepted his reasoning, but as I approached the field again, all it did was invoke anger. He had abandoned me in my most desperate moment. All for a brother that abandoned him after his family fell apart. Pathetic.
I hesitated at the edge of town. The dirt path beneath my feet was barely visible through the overgrown grass that itched at my ankles. Weeds had sprouted up around the bases of the buildings. The fountain, its water now still and murky, remained stubbornly intact.
As I walked forward, I glanced around uneasily, hoping to find the bounty hunter nearby. “Ikevine!” I called out, but there was no response. “Elias!” I tried next, but he was also nowhere to be found. My frustration mounted with every unanswered call. The silence of the empty town felt oppressive, driving me to the pillaged center where I hoped to find a clue.
Soon the now defunct dirt path led way to cobblestone. Vegetation crawled through its gaps, threatening to consume it with time. It led way to the pillaged center where all the now dead were laid to rest.
Sick as it was, I placed one foot on a skeleton and grabbed hold of another. It was like climbing a hill made of bones, fused together like fossils. I began to scale the grotesque mound, eagerly pushing towards the top. My thoughts were consumed by the climb, and I barely considered the desecration of my once-hallowed hometown.
As I gripped the skeletal hand of a poor soul, it snapped free, and I tumbled onto my back. “Shit...” I muttered, then coughed. As I opened my eyes and realized the horror of what I was doing, I scrambled backward, desperation overtaking me. “Fuck—fuck...” I gasped. What was happening to me? Why was my mind unraveling like this?
Panting heavily, I propped myself up against the crumbling wooden remnants of a house. The place smelled foul—like rot, though that seemed impossible. Perhaps it was another hallucination, this time not visual but olfactory.
I pushed the unsettling sensation aside and focused on the ground. An idea clicked into place. I remembered that Ikevine often visited this area. My only option was to wait here for him. If he didn’t show up by nightfall, I’d have to set off on my own.
So, I waited. The only way to pass the time was through thought. I pondered Heladon and Chlodovech, the upcoming marriage between him and the Orerhan Princess. A feud that had raged for decades, now being resolved by a primal desire.
I considered the dangers ahead. Reentering the north meant confronting increasingly perilous territory. Patrols were scattered across the mainland and the mountains—cold, desolate, and seemingly impenetrable. It was astonishing how long Thadomire had survived there, assuming Lydus was telling the truth, which I had no reason to doubt.
I heard something in the distance— a buzzing sound, distorted and unsettling, seemed to pulse through the air, its source hidden behind the ruined buildings. It was abruptly cut off by a piercing screech that made my heart skip a beat. A flash of eerie, unnatural light flickered briefly before vanishing, leaving me with an uneasy feeling. Could that be Ikevine? I wasn’t sure, but I had to act.
I stood up and took a cautious step forward, then decided it was wiser to wait for him to come around and find me first. It would minimize the risk of startling him.
Ikevine rounded the corner, and my heart eased with relief. There he was, just as I remembered him. His armor was as striking and mystical: jet-black, lightweight, and sleek, with an intricate, almost otherworldly design. His colossal, leviathan-like sword, appearing to weigh several tons, was strapped to his back as effortlessly as if it were a mere feather. It reflected with it the sun, but in a way that made it seem like it bended light.
His footsteps were slow and heavy, each step causing the dirt beneath his boots to crunch crisply. He seemed to sense that something was amiss, or perhaps that I was nearby, evident as he sniffed the air, gaze sweeping the surroundings. When his eyes finally landed on me, the scowl was unmistakable—a clear indication that his feelings towards me hadn’t softened.
“Finally dropped you, did he?” the bounty hunter said, his hand drifting toward the hilt of his sword without moving from his spot. “Shouldn’t have come back here.”
“Put it down,” I said with a frustrated mutter. “He’s dead.”
Ikevine’s eyes widened in surprise. “Dolion?” he asked slowly, disbelief in his voice. “That old bastard finally kicked the bucket?”
“Something like that,” I replied solemnly, avoiding the truth about Vesperus’s deception. “I need your help.”
His grip on the sword loosened, and his arm fell to his side, dangling limply. “My help?” Ikevine asked, taking a step closer. The heavy thud of his boot against the ground reverberated as a breeze swept past us, blowing my hair into my eyes. “I don’t do help without compensation.”
“Well...” I thought desperately, “What do you want?”
Ikevine began to pace, his hands clasped behind his back, the metal of his gloves scraping together. “Your life,” he said, “for destroying mine.”
“My—” The word caught in my throat. “You can’t be serious.”
“Like a dead man walking,” Ikevine confirmed. He extended his hand, and a helmet materialized, which he equipped before turning back to me. “What do you need?” he asked, as if I had already agreed. By my demeanor, he was right.
I hesitated. “Your ability to teleport... I need you to send me to the Northern Mountains.”
“Theosilic?” he asked, turning around with a note of confusion in his voice. “That place is no fit for the living, Alaric.”
“A man called Thadomire... he can help rid me of this curse.”
Ikevine snorted an ugly laugh, “No one can rid a blood curse, Alaric. Not yours. Vesperus is dead. Dolion lied to you the minute you met.”
“I know.” I stated frustratingly, “Will you or not?”
Forth came rain. Pouring downwards from gray clouds that rolled overhead. Cold in its wake, drenching me in its path. It pounded the ground like mallets on a drum. Each drop heavier than the last. It bounced off ikevine’s armor with a sound like breaking glass, “I’ll have to reenchant my sword,” he said, looking upwards at the deluge. “But yes.”
“Reenchant?” I backed away, seeking shelter under the dilapidated roof of the old home. “What does that mean?”
He unsheathed the mighty blade, its metal flowing with an impossible sheen that seemed almost liquid. The rain beaded off the sword as if it were impervious to water.
“It means...” Ikevine said, his voice steady despite the downpour, “the energy within this weapon is limited.” He extended his hand, “Hold on.”
Grasping the man’s glove, Ikevine swung the sword and shouted in an unfamiliar language. Instantly, everything around us vanished. The sensation was like falling through weightless air at a million miles an hour—tumbling faster and faster, a relentless rush of nothingness.
Then, suddenly, we were expelled from a blinding light and emerged somewhere entirely different. I’d never get used to that feeling.
The rain and wind had ceased abruptly, replaced by a musty, sticky stench that filled the air. The sunlight was gone, and instead, the flickering light of what I assumed was a torch cast uneven shadows overhead.
I slid forward, feeling rough stone scrape against my skin and cause my palms to bleed. Ikevine, on the other hand, landed with more grace. He skidded to a stop, the clatter of metal on rock ringing painfully in my ears.
The corridor around us was carved from dark, gray stone. Stalactites dripped from above, and the upper reaches of the cavernous walls were slick with moisture. It was narrow, cramped even, with no end in sight as it rounded a corner.
Struggling to sheath his sword, Ikevine let it drag along the ground behind him. “Come on,” he urged, his tone casual as if this were an everyday occurrence.
Using the wall for support, I stood and glanced around, trying to get my bearings. “Where are we?”
“The Sovurn,” Ikevine said, eyeing me curiously through his helmet. “Oh... you don’t know, do you?”
“That... Dunstan was right?” I muttered. The Sovurn were supposedly extinct, or so the legends went—a guild of criminals who had vanished ages ago. “You really are a part of it.”
“Always was.” Ikevine began walking down the corridor, his tone dismissive. “No more questions. You’re like a goddamn dog.
Scrambling to keep up and not be left behind, I ignored Ikevine’s request. “I— I don’t understand. Heladon stamped you all out.”
“I thought you’d know,” Ikevine replied, his tone laced with bitterness. “The government lies. Always.”
Eventually, we reached the end of the corridor, where a stone wall blocked our path. The sight nearly made me panic—were we trapped? But Ikevine's next actions eased my fear. He placed a hand flat against the wall. “Stand behind me,” he commanded, and I complied.
He banged on the stone, startling me with the sudden noise. “Open the goddamn door, Auvliz!”
At his command, the stone began to move in an impossible manner. It scraped against the floor and rolled to the side, revealing a woman standing in the entrance. “Sulking at Chepstow again?” Auvliz asked immediately.
She appeared to be in her early thirties, with short, frizzy black hair and a scratched face. Her armor resembled Ikevine’s but was less imposing.
“Ah shut it.” He pushed past her, grasping my left arm with heavy force, and pulling me along.
Once Auvliz moved aside, the sight before me was nothing short of incredible, defying all-natural order.
Before us stretched a vast cavern, extending for what seemed like miles. Hundreds of houses, crafted from wood and stone, hung from the cavern’s ceiling, connected by a network of pathways. Below, a pool of luminous water shimmered with glowing algae, casting a brilliant blue light that was almost blinding.
Lanterns lined the pathways, their orange glow providing the only illumination against the surrounding darkness.
In the distance, hundreds, if not thousands, of people moved about—ordinary folk, not unlike Ikevine or Auvliz. Among them, I spotted creatures similar to the one Odessa and I had killed earlier. Dozens of these beings walked side by side with the humans, blending seamlessly into the crowd.
“Holy shit...” I gasped, unable to find better words.
Auvliz eyed me suspiciously. “Who the hell is this, Ike?”
He huffed in response. “Just call him a client of mine. One who owes his life.”
“His life—” Realization dawned on her. “Don’t tell me he’s—”
“That’s him.”
“Are you fucking stupid, Ike?” Auvliz grabbed his arm, halting him from walking away. “The Kingdom’s looking everywhere for him.”
Ikevine didn’t respond. “Follow Alaric, and don’t get lost behind,” he commanded in a gruff voice, finally sheathing his magnificent blade. I wordlessly followed his lead, leaving Auvliz behind, still staring in shock.
We stepped onto the edge of a precipice, where a stone elevator awaited us. Fueled by a pulley system, it began to descend slowly with a rattling clatter of chains. Looking down made my stomach lurch—the drop was so steep that it would surely be fatal.
Minutes ticked by as we clung to the small wooden railings of the stone elevator, which still had not reached the bottom. It was clear that Ikevine preferred silence over conversation. Standing side by side seemed to be a source of discomfort for him. I couldn’t help my curiosity, though. “Ike... huh?” I ventured, trying to lighten the mood, even though humor isn’t typically my forte.
“Stop.” His response was immediate, almost childishly abrupt. His mood swings were baffling—one moment angry, the next calm, then angry again.
I nodded, though many questions still squirmed within me. The loudest among them was how Ikevine had managed to survive after Chepstow and become affiliated with The Sovurn.
The elevator finally reached the bottom, tapping gently against the ground before the chains were released with a creak. We stood at the edge of a pool, illuminated not by natural algae but by the resident fish. Their bodies emitted a strange, curved glow that was unfamiliar to me. Upon closer inspection, I realized the bright blue light came from the blood coursing through them.
As I reached out, almost compelled to touch the shimmering water, Ikevine seized my wrist firmly. “I wouldn’t do that,” he warned sharply. “Those are Siren Fish. Get too close, and they’ll chew a finger off.”
“Good to know...” I muttered, pulling my arm back. The Siren Fish swam away, as if sensing that I wouldn’t be their next meal.
We continued down another narrow corridor. This one was shorter and opened into a smaller, more lived-in cavern. The stench of something foul immediately reached my nose.
In the top right corner, a bed was stationed, its stains and discolorations revealing years of use. A pot filled with water sat over a small, charred piece of wood, with a tunnel leading upwards for ventilation. To the left, a table covered with strange items caught my eye. “What is that smell...?” I asked.
“Nature,” Ikevine huffed, almost offended by the question. It dawned on me then that this must be his home.
Ikevine pushed me backward, then unsheathed his weapon, laying it flat on the table. He unstrapped the lock from a small chest, the mechanism creaking loudly as he opened it. Inside, a stone—or perhaps a crystal—glowed faintly. Within its translucent surface, an orb of light danced gracefully.
Carefully, Ikevine lifted the stone and brought it to the edge of his blade. He moved it back and forth with a rhythmic precision, as if sharpening a knife. The blade seemed to absorb the light from the stone, its edge transitioning to the liquid state I noticed earlier.
“Uh...” I began hesitantly. Ikevine glanced over, as if he had momentarily forgotten I was there. “I know I ask a lot of questions, but... what the hell is that?”
He paused, letting out a heavy sigh as if the answer was burden to say, “This crystal contains energy. It’s the essence of magic—what makes it possible.”
“Right...” I replied, though I didn’t fully understand.
“Well,” Ikevine said, smacking his hand against the table with impatience, “I’m transferring that energy into my blade.”
“Uh-huh... got it,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Ikevine rolled his eyes in response and continued his work until the crystal's glow faded. He then lifted the blade into the torchlight, admiring its gleam. “Beautiful ol’ bitch,” he muttered, sheathing it with a satisfied nod. “That should be enough for a trip to the mountains and back. And then...”
“You kill me?” I asked, the question coming out with an air of casual indifference.
“No,” Ikevine said, a disdainful smile curling on his lips. “I’ve reconsidered our arrangement. You don’t come back, Alaric. You go and live the rest of your life in the Northern Regions. Killing you wouldn’t be enough justice.”
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the notion of isolation. It was, in a twisted sense, my original plan—though I hadn’t thought it feasible anymore. “Deal,” I said, accepting the terms with a resigned nod.
Before Ikevine could say more, his eyes wandered to the doorway. I turned to follow his gaze and saw what had caught his attention. Auvliz stood there, accompanied by an older man with long gray hair and a beard bound in a cloth-tied knot.
“Ikevine,” the old man’s voice, though deeper and more resonant than expected, carried forth.
Ikevine’s demeanor shifted instantly to one of subdued respect. “Brendhor...” he said, his tone trailing off as he struggled to find words.
Brendhor raised his hand, cutting Ikevine off. “You brought an outsider into the guild,” he stated firmly. “That’s worthy of a deduction.” His robe swept the floor as he approached, his imposing figure towering over me. He placed a hand on my face.
“Don’t touch me—” I snarled, pushing his hand away with a sharp movement.
Brendhor’s gaze remained steady, unflinching. “You know the rules,” he said, his voice measured and unyielding. “So, explain yourself. Why bring him here, especially someone as sought after by Chlodovech as he is?”
“He’s a client,” Ikevine said through gritted teeth, his voice taut with frustration. “It’s impossible for anyone to track us, not without sorcery.”
“Enough for the Northern Mountains and back, hm?” Brendhor echoed Ikevine’s words from earlier, “Well, since the deal is already struck, it will stand. But you will not accompany him.”
“What?” I interjected, “I can’t trust anyone else—I barely trust him to begin with.”
Brendhor leaned in closer, “Then your plan will collapse...,” he said softly, then sniffed the air around me, “...and that curse will take over.”
“How do you know about that?” I demanded.
Brendhor’s lips curled into a mirthless smile as he laughed. “Really?” he said, incredulity in his words. He glanced at Ikevine, who stared up at the ceiling, biting back his words. “The energy it radiates is impossible to ignore. Auvliz will accompany you to the mountains while we deliberate on a suitable punishment for Ikevine.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I retorted defiantly, “as much as I hate to admit it.”
“There’s no use in arguing, Alaric,” Ikevine spat, “But remember our deal.”
I wanted to respond, but instead, I simply nodded. Ikevine glanced at me, his expression softening with a hint of relief before he turned his gaze forward.
“You’d better be off, then,” Brendhor continued, his voice cold. “No need to waste our air any longer, unless you'd prefer to swim with the Siren Fish.”
“No,” I replied bluntly.
“Good.” Brendhor’s attention shifted to Auvliz. “Go ahead and take him.”
She grasped my hand firmly, pulling me out of Ikevine’s home. “We’ll have to go outside,” Auvliz muttered, more to herself than to me. “The cavern walls will block the spell.”
The two of us walked in silence until we reached another stone door. Auvliz unsheathed her weapon—not a sword, but something closer to a scythe in shape. Pressing it firmly against the door, the rune etched into the stone flickered to life, glowing briefly before the door creaked open. A wave of cold air rushed in, chilling me to the bone. Outside, a light dusting of snow covered the ground, confirming that we were nearer to Heladon City than I had realized.
She glanced at my clothes and clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Such a nice jacket, all ruined.”
Confused, I looked down. Holes and scratches marred the fabric—damages I hadn’t noticed before, or perhaps my mind had subconsciously ignored.
Auvliz placed a hand on my chest, a gesture that startled me into stillness. She met my gaze, muttering something under her breath, and I watched in amazement as the fabric of my jacket began to mend itself, stitching back together string by string.
“Huh...” I murmured approvingly.
Without another word, Auvliz stepped into the snow, the crunch beneath her boots breaking the silence. Snowflakes clung to her hair and clothes as she turned to me. “The mountains, correct?”
I nodded silently. She sighed, a trace of regret in her voice. “I apologize about Ikevine, but you must understand it could have jeopardized our security,” Auvliz continued. “If it makes you feel any better, he just wants you dead.”
“No kidding,” I mumbled, still processing everything. “What happened to him?”
“It’s a long, sad story.” She glanced up at the sky, her voice softening. “During the assault on Chepstow, he hid in his family’s cellar for days. When he finally emerged, everyone was dead—not just his family, but the entire village.” Auvliz gestured for me to follow as we began our descent down the mountain. It wasn’t as towering as the Theosilic Mountains, but the descent still felt daunting. “He was... twelve, maybe thirteen at the time. For days, he barely survived on his own.”
She paused midway down the slope, “Then Dolion found him. Told Ikevine about you and Vesperus. The old man handed the boy over to the Sovurn... around the same age I joined. Ikevine was a goddamn prodigy... a legend, really. And now...” She scoffed, almost bitter. “Frankly, he’s gone mad.”
“...Dolion took care of him?” I asked cautiously. “He’s, uh... dead.”
“No shit?” Auvliz laughed, as if it were funny. “I bet Ike’s trying to hide it, but inside... he’s dying.”
“It’s better that he does than to learn the truth.”
“What truth?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as she stared at me.
I hesitated, knowing that revealing the truth might cause more harm than good. Ikevine was better off not knowing that Dolion had truly been Vesperus. For everyone’s sake, I kept my voice even. “Don’t worry about it.”
Auvliz considered my words for a moment, then nodded. “Fair is fair...” She grasped my arm, her touch steady. “The connection is strong enough here,” she said, unsheathing her scythe. “Done this before?”
“Two too many times...” I replied with a weak smile.
Auvliz swung the scythe with expert precision, and in an instant, the world vanished. We were falling—plummeting through a void where nothing rushed past us. This descent felt longer than the one with Ikevine, but eventually, we were spat out into a thick layer of snow. The air here was dry and biting, even colder than the Sovurn’s mountain. The ground beneath us was rocky, sloping upwards at a steep incline.
I spat out a mouthful of snow and looked up—and there it was. Holy shit. The Northern Mountains, more commonly known as the Theosilic Mountains, towered before us. They were magnificent, their peaks so high that the clouds obscured the very tops. The base stretched out endlessly, appearing almost like a gentle hill before sharply rising into a formidable slope. Half of the mountains were covered in dense trees, while the other half was barren, a landscape of rough, unforgiving rock.
“Well, this is it, pal,” Auvliz said, planting the end of her scythe firmly into the snow-covered ground to brace against the biting wind. “You sure you’ll make it?”
“Only one way to find out.” I stretched my arms, trying to steady myself as the cold seeped into my bones. “It’s fucking freezing out here…”
Auvliz ripped a necklace from around her neck. As she pulled it free from beneath her clothing, a crystal, similar to the one I had seen in Ikevine’s home, was revealed. “Put this around your neck,” she instructed, “and mutter... Isslavior miua flim.”
I hesitated for a moment, then looped the string of the necklace around my throat. “Isslavior... miua... flim,” I murmured. My pronunciation was rough compared to hers, but the spell seemed to take effect. The biting cold was replaced by a soothing warmth that enveloped me, bringing an unexpected sense of relief.
“Woah...” I breathed, marveling at the sudden change in temperature. It wasn’t anything extraordinary, but the warmth was a welcome change from the biting cold. Even lukewarm was a vast improvement over the frigid air.
“It’ll keep you...” Auvliz was interrupted as the wind hit her, causing her to shiver visibly. “Warm for... half a nightfall. Don’t waste it.” She grasped her scythe tightly, casting a final glance in my direction. With a swift swing of her weapon through the air, she vanished, leaving me alone on the snow-covered terrain.
Swallowing hard, I clutched the crystal in my palms, hoping it might offer a bit more warmth. I pulled out the map from my back pocket and unfolded it, my fingers tracing the crisp edges. My eyes followed the path, and I muttered to myself, “A long way…”
It dawned on me that it could take an entire nightfall to reach the isolated spot marked on the map. The destination lay halfway up the mountain, nestled in a small valley between two rugged ridges.
Thadomire had hidden himself well, but as with everything in this world, humanity has a way of uncovering what’s concealed. It’s in their nature. Or so I thought. I was Masavoran, and Masavorans are not human. I damn well felt like one.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
