ã€ŠWitch of Fear [Mild horror, Isekai High Fantasy]ã€‹


 Chapter One: The Nightmare

    I had a nightmare once.

    It was no mere fright of sleep or simple restlessness, but a true terror. It wasn¡¯t the most horrid nor gruesome in content, but it was special, for it persisted into the waking realm; blurring the lines in my mind between truth and fiction.

    Vividly, I can recall that nightmare even now.

    It went like this.

    ¡°Once there were two children: a boy and a girl.

    A farmer¡¯s son and his young playmate, a best friend if you will.

    They were always together, free and happy. They played together on his father¡¯s farm without worry or care. Yet it all changed one day.

    It was a day like any other. There were no dark and stormy clouds. There were no bad omens.

    With laughter in their hearts, they journey into the milking parlor, a place familiar to the air as they played here often.

    Into the parlor they walked, and in the center sat a black cauldron. It burbled and bubbled with unknown contents.

    It was strange and novel. Yet they quickly grew bored, as children want to do.

    So they sought to play hide and seek.

    The boy was the hider first, so he nestled himself amongst the hay within a separate chamber and giggled to himself at his masterful hiding. Yet the girl didn¡¯t come.

    She didn¡¯t seek.

    A cry of distress split the air. Seeking the sudden sound, the boy spied his companion as he peeked around a corner from where he¡¯d hid. There, cast in the cauldron fire¡¯s glow, were witches three.

    The shadowy figures had caught the girl in their gnarled hands and brought her to the bubbling cauldron.

    The boy fled in fear, desperately searching for his father.

    When he had done so, he spoke quickly of his friend¡¯s ill-fated plight, yet the father was confused and simply asked, ¡®who?¡¯

    The frightened boy tried to answer but he could not as he no longer remembered the girl¡¯s name. As he sought his memories, he found he could not recall her face or anything more about her.

    He had no such friend.

    The father investigated the parlor and found inside no cauldron, no witches, nor any girl.

    Did he imagine the girl? Did she ever exist?

    Yet when that boy awoke from his terrible dream, he felt he had lost something precious to him. No matter how much reality tried to convince him otherwise, he believed deep down that he once had a friend. A friend who was taken.¡±

    This is a story inspired by that terrible dream.

    <hr>

    Far above a sleepy town, a dark and stormy night roiled and bucked. It fought the heavens with fury and lightning, shaking all. Hidden deep with its dark clouds, a trio of maleficent shadows lurked.

    Those dreadful and wicked things galloped across the boundless sky in pursuit of mortal prey.

    They whispered and cackled in foul tongues as they journeyed, arguing amongst themselves over every small thing.

    ¡°Behold, is that thine prey?¡±

    ¡°Nay, too old.¡±

    The foul shades peek uninvited through windows and cracks, spying upon the unaware. Many mortals escaped a dire fate this turbulent night with only a chill of doom brushing their shoulders.

    Onward they loomed through the world until an old home came into their sights. From discarded toys and scrawled upon wallpaper, the home radiated life and youth; a delicious sight to the dancing shades.

    ¡°Here! Here! Children in abundance, one shall fulfill the pact sister.¡±

    ¡°Too many to take upon the night-haunts. Find the one fast.¡±

    ¡°The court shall hath its due, but a nibble might not go amiss.¡±

    Through the hallways the shadows flickered, gliding past the lounging adults nestled in the flickering light of the TV. The shadows crept into three rooms.

    A trio of teen boys slumbered within the first.

    ¡°Blah boys, naught for the court tonight.¡±

    Within the second room, a pair of girls played. One four years, the other eight.

    ¡°Too young and there¡¯s no time to feast, alas,¡± the foul being said, eyeing the two.

    In the last room, the shade found its prey. A tall and slender girl, a mere seventeen, bordering on eighteen, sat perched on a battered desk chair.

    Her thin dark pajamas clung to her thin frame, worn threadbare from time and a lack of care. They did little to hide her athletic build, built up from a lifetime of running. However, there was a gauntness there that was disparate with the stocked kitchens the shade had spied on before.

    ¡°Curious.¡± the shade muttered as it observed.

    Black eyes the color of the dying night outside peeked through limp twilight locks that curtained a pale freckled face to cascade down to her modest chest.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Those black eyes swept back and forth in frantic motion as the soft-glowing screen she sat before illuminated them.

    The creeping shadow drew closer to the oblivious mortal girl, eager to see if this was the prey it desired. It drifted across discarded clothing and school bags, enough for two if the second bed in the room attested.

    Yet luckily (or unluckily) the twilight-haired girl was alone.

    Draped across a hanger and hung like a corpse were the torn remains of a school uniform that awaited resurrection by needle and thread. The grim sight elicited a mocking giggle from the shade, the sound lost in the booming thunder.

    The thunder rattled the walls as if a giant had shaken the very earth itself.

    A scream of fright from down the halls startled the perched girl. She glanced about the shrouded room, listening to the sounds of the weary adults moving to the frightened child down the hall.

    For a short while, she waited and fixated on the door, anticipating someone¡¯s arrival, before sinking into her chair and going back to her screen.

    A blank screen greeted her.

    The thunderous fury of the heavens had cut off the power, it would seem.

    In the darkness, the girl groped about the desk in search of her flashlight. In doing so, she knocked over a bottle of pills. The medication spilled upon the tabletop like many cast stones.

    She snatched up a small flashlight into her slender fingers; the nails chewed down to the quick.

    ¡°Is yon girl the one?¡± Another shade said as it arrived to crowd the small bedroom.

    ¡°Shh.¡± The first shadow rebuked as it shifted closer.

    Light sprung up from the torch, casting flickering shadows about the room and driving a spike of exhaustion and pain into the girl¡¯s skull. The light caught upon her bag, discarded as it was.

    The name Autumn stitched onto the top.

    ¡°It¡¯s her.¡± The shade said with a wicked smile.

    Dark eyes chased the errant shadows as the girl named Autumn clutched her head in pain. The striking lighting outside sent more dancing shadows squirming upon the walls, a show created purely for her by the violent storm.

    ¡°Did yon girl see?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie! She hasn¡¯t the eye for it!¡±

    ¡°She mayn¡¯t see, but mayhap hear if ye yelp so.¡±

    Thunder boomed, overpowering the shades¡¯ anger and scaring Autumn as the world¡¯s fury swept through the town.

    Cries and whimpers resounded from the surrounding rooms at the tempest. Autumn herself closed her eyes and counted between the strike and the booming.

    One, two, three. Crash.

    ¡°A kilometer,¡± Autumn muttered.

    Into the darkness she stared, the fright shaking her body in time with the peels of thunder. No less afraid than she was as a child.

    ¡°Hope it hits the school. A day off would be nice.¡± Autumn said.

    School, that grim place that made the magical act of learning utterly mundane. Not to mention the horror of socialization and the banality of cliques. She¡¯d always preferred gym class; running made her feel so free.

    ¡°I shall steal her hence!¡±

    ¡°Lo, I call her mine!¡±

    ¡°I hath said SILENCE!¡±

    Within a brief lull in the crashing thunder, the noise of the bickering shadows echoed. Autumn spun about with a violent fright. Torchlight scythed through the gloom as she hunted for the disturbance.

    Yet all was still as a corpse. Nothing stirred, neither a mouse nor a house.

    ¡°I thought I heard something?¡± Autumn mused through bitten lips.

    Sighing, she stood up from her battered chair, stretching out her back from hours curled over her computer. It clicked and popped as she drew up to her full height at five foot seven. One of the tallest girls in her class, not that it helped much.

    ¡°You art to blame.¡±

    ¡°Nay you.¡±

    ¡°Ye both art but empty-headed sprites.¡±

    Ignorant of the danger about to befall her, Autumn staggered to her unmade bed, eyes struggling to fight against the call of deep slumber. As the lightning continued to crash down outside, she slipped into that elusive dream.

    Now the shades made their move.

    The nightmares that plagued Autumn this time were real. They slipped across the walls like stains of oil to stretch keen claws out towards the vulnerable mortal. Monstrous shapes formed like the most macabre of puppet shows.

    They slithered and crept ever onward.

    Clawing tendrils caught upon her sheets. Her troubled sleep rocked her back and forth, narrowly avoiding a swiping shadow. But it crept forwards again, coalescing into a python-like form made from the twisted oils of the deepest shadows.

    It coiled around her form, squeezing her soft body in its coils. It entangled Autumn in her sleep. A single twist and it could shatter her swan-like neck, yet it would not as it wasn¡¯t its purpose.

    Autumn twisted uncomfortably as she slumbered, twitching against her bondage.

    As her mouth opened in a moan of discomfort, the beast of shadows struck. In an instant, it dove between her lips and down her throat to fill her lungs with clinging oil.

    Panicked eyes flew open as the black water choked her.

    It was frigid in her lungs.

    Autumn bucked and writhed as she fought against the coiled shadow, but it was for naught since the beast only constricted tighter in response. She was but a mouse before the predator.

    Autumn¡¯s tears rolled down her face as she lost her mind to fear. The burning instinct bit into her fragile psyche like starving hounds after rotting meat. The black water that filled her lungs spewed forth from her lips to pool onto the floor. It grew and grew as she drowned, soaking her bed in sweat and foul oil.

    Autumn tried to scream for help, but there was no air to do so. Only a spluttered gurgle came forth, drowned out by the ongoing thunder. The oily snake contorted her lungs into an unnatural shape as they slithered within her body.

    Amongst the crash of thunder and her choked cries, Autumn could hear the rising sounds of sinister childish giggles echoing about her now flooded room. Try as she might, she couldn¡¯t see the source.

    Down into the abyssal waters, she went. She couldn¡¯t escape, no matter how hard she fought. She felt the icy grip of death looming before her and realized in that bitter moment that she desperately wanted to live. Autumn¡¯s vision sparkled and blurred as she drowned beneath the murky waters that lapped against the ceiling above her. She wondered if this was how she¡¯d die.

    Drowning in her room with no one the wiser?

    Her final thoughts lay with her foster siblings and she hoped they didn¡¯t find her body first; they were already so scared as it was.

    Autumn drifted languidly downward into the deep waters of the Beyond. Down past her floor into an ocean of impossibility. Fish passed by her fading eyes, obeying no laws but their own; they hurt to look at. Beyond her fading sight was a looming face of such infinity and age that minds shattered upon gazing upon it. Great long tentacles drifted in the currents and eyes of deepest nothing gazed at the sinking pair.

    The greatest and most terrible of secrets burned through Autumn¡¯s mind in an instant, only for her to forget them once more. Thanks in kind to her blurred vision, the burden did not fully consume her mind. The oily serpent was not so lucky as without eyes to shut, it met with the eyes of the elder one and simply ceased existing.

    Although freed, a lack of oxygen had robbed Autumn of her strength and even if this place had an ¡°up,¡± she lacked the energy to pursue it. So she drifted in the currents for a time until the great mind that idly watched the intruder in its watery home wished elsewhere before it returned to its long slumber.

    ¡°Doth thee bethink yon girl made it?¡±

    In Autumn¡¯s remarkably clean bedroom, one shade spoke to the other. Neither seemed to care for the fate of their third.

    ¡°I care not. We have fulfilled the pact either way. ¡®Bring me a young girl worthy of being a witch before the dying of this year¡¯s autumn.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Dumb hag should¡¯ve worded her pact better.¡±

 Chapter Two: A Fair Maiden

    Into an unreal world, our story ventured.

    Looking heavenward, one would not spot a sky, only an eerie blackness. No stars shone or twinkled above; only the moonlight of a baleful moon graced the black.

    It hung upon the lightless canvas within a twisted cage of thorns and branches.

    Gigantic trees of impossible height and girth had stretched towards it and grasped upon the glaring moon and dug deep within the cratered face.

    Imprisoned as it was, all it could do was watch the twisted lands below as it raged.

    The giants that had captured the moon dripped with the silvery blood of the wounded celestial. The blood mingled with its bleeding amber to stain the musty earth. It flowed together into pools and rivers that flooded unhindered, save for a central clearing that repelled the substance.

    Sight drew to this central space.

    Illuminated in the silvery glow was a mushroom ring of blood-red caps dotted with white. These fungal growths had sprouted from the watered earth in a perfect circle and pulsed to an unheard tune.

    Those with a mind to comprehend would see the fairy ring, that place of weal or woe.

    And as often whispered in folklore, within it the fae danced.

    Bound within the ring spun half-invisible forms that swayed and danced with mirth at the moon¡¯s impotent anger.

    Hooves and feet beat a tune into the soil that only they knew.

    They played games of deadly courtesy between themselves. The Summer Court of the fae began as beautiful women with hair like the sun and fine gentlemen with smiles like a promise arrived.

    Within this gathering of immortals, a lone mortal danced unrested. A fool of fate who¡¯d failed the unknowable rules set forth. Now his feet were but blooded stumps as the fae dragged him about.

    Only a simple amusement that, unfortunately, they were quick to grow bored with.

    The fair-folk wished for something new to entertain them and, funnily enough, they got their wish almost instantly.

    From a watery womb, it conjured a deluge of briny water. It broke within the court and wetted hems and feet with salt. From an unseen world of depthless ocean, it deposited a young woman in their midst.

    Those foolish or simply far too curious for their own good snuck a peek whence she had come, only to tear their maddened eyes from their skulls lest the sight of him infect their existence.

    The young traveler lay upon the ballroom floor of the Feywild, coughing black water from her lungs.

    Autumn lay clad only in soaked nightwear as she shook with terror, her mind burning with ill-gotten knowledge.

    Language was all she could think about at that moment.

    Frightened and fascinated, she found could understand every language she¡¯d come across.

    A cool night breeze chilled her bones and sent goosebumps scurrying across her skin, shocking Autumn away from her maddening knowledge.

    With wild and panic-filled eyes, she scampered to her feet onto the loamy soil. Or was it cool tiles?

    The Summer Court of the Seelie delighted in her raw emotions.

    Before Autumn could make sense of the otherworldly sights, one of the fae nobles dancing stole her hand. A hand of clawed fingers clamped tightly around her own, so tight that blood beaded upon their tips.

    Someone had dumped her within their courtly games and they¡¯d not let the mortal spoil their fun so soon.

    A maiden so fair pouted with lips like blood and whispered through teeth like knives into Autumn¡¯s ear, ¡°Won¡¯t thee dance with me?¡±

    The mewling voice sounded like love¡¯s first kiss.

    ¡°N-no thank you,¡± Autumn stuttered as she attempted to extract herself from the fae¡¯s firm grip.

    ¡°Oh?¡± The Fair Maiden cooed in a parody of disappointment. ¡°You must dance. This is a party after all and thou art a guest hither. Aren¡¯t thee?¡±

    Shivers grew along Autumn¡¯s spine as she spied the sight of sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight, ¡°for if it be true that thee aren¡¯t a guest, you¡¯ll just be dinner. ¡±

    The air within the court froze as the fae eagerly awaited with wicked grins. Autumn felt her heart beat with fear in a rapid tune, almost in time with the fae¡¯s unheard melody.

    She stood frozen before the immortal predator.

    One who¡¯d prey upon mortals like her since time first began.

    With awkward steps, Autumn attempted to follow the Fair Maiden in a dance she did not know or could even hear.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    The jubilant atmosphere returned to the Summer Court as the new game began. Their plays and japes were a second thought to watching Autumn for any misstep or breach of their untold rules of etiquette. Their self-made rules were just as much a weapon as they were binds.

    As they slowly led her about the court, it reminded Autumn of the few lessons the school forced her to attend to prepare for the prom. She was just as awkward back then as she was now, but at least she hadn¡¯t been worried her partner would eat her for stepping on their toes.

    Terror coursed through her veins like thick sludge as she danced.

    The not-so-fair maiden watched her with seductive glee.

    How long did they dance? Autumn didn¡¯t know anymore, as time seemed to have lost its meaning. It all blurred together. Minutes turned into hours and days to seconds. It changed rapidly, with no concern granted to the mortal caught up in its flow.

    All she recognized was that her feet stung something fierce. A glance at her feet showed she had worn away the soles of her feet, and a series of bloody footprints marked her journey about the ballroom. Horror crept into Autumn¡¯s mind as she struggled desperately to think of a way to escape.

    The foolish mortal was gone. Only blood upon lips showed a trace of his fate. Autumn would meet that same fate if she failed at their sick game.

    Autumn noticed the dancers remained confined within the ring of mushrooms as she frantically glanced about the court. None crossed the unseen line between stalks.

    Perhaps it was one of their unspoken rules.

    Perhaps her safety lay out there?

    With careful steps, Autumn danced slowly to the edge, leaving more bloody footprints in her wake. Closer and closer she drew to that edge, but just before she crossed, her dance partner skillfully pulled freedom from her grasp.

    The fae knew their rules, so it was easy to tease her. They had pretended to be unaware of her furtive movements.

    Fond giggling erupted from the Fair Maiden as she delighted in her game.

    Autumn¡¯s mind clutched desperately at the half-remembered facts she had read about folklore and fae. She was cognizant of her demise growing ever closer. A line conjured forth from an old and dusty book she had once read.

    ¡°Around and around the mushrooms the children would dance, nine times they would dance around and never a tenth, for a tenth, would call disaster upon them.¡±

    She had to try.

    It was all she could remember.

    Already her stumbling dance had led her about the circle thrice, the trail of blood marking her progress. To her, it appeared the Fair Maiden was trying to use her as a living paintbrush, using her blood to create a mark on the floor.

    She didn¡¯t know what they were making, only that she knew it wasn¡¯t to her benefit.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t force her partner to move the way she wished. The only time she tried, she felt a thrill of danger in the way the Fair Maiden grinned. She would have to obey their rules and dance her way to freedom.

    Fortunately, Autumn had learned to dance the waltz in the past year despite her lack of desire to attend the prom or even a partner. She could only silently thank her foster father for insisting that she learn and helping her practice. Autumn regretted not thanking him. So she took the lead, stepping forward with her left foot, forcing her partner back.

    The Fair Maiden grinned as Autumn fought back using their own rules and disrupted her plans. She followed along with an eagerness, seeking to foil Autumn¡¯s wishes.

    Autumn moved to the right, stepping sideways around the other dancers as they attempted to foul her footwork. Her left foot came to meet her right as she danced with the summer. Back she went with her right as she got into a clockwise momentum and quickly her left foot came backward too. Finally, her right foot drew back to her left and completed the waltz.

    As her gaze lifted back to the Fair Maiden, they met her with the multifaceted emotions within her swirling fire-like eyes. What Autumn saw was a twisted sort of pride; pride at her triumph and rebellion at her fated death. Not enough to protect her from being consumed if she failed the fae¡¯s game.

    Seeing she knew how to dance, the Fair Maiden challenged Autumn as they spun about the circle. She pushed and pulled, twisted and stepped along to break Autumn¡¯s stride, but they would not lead astray the young woman.

    Autumn had a goal now and refused to give in.

    So around and around they went.

    The Summer Court laughed and laughed as they enjoyed her struggle and her play.

    Yet the Fair Maiden did not.

    Before, she had been playing with Autumn, guiding her along in the game, but her pride now prickled as she felt the Court laughing as much at her as at Autumn. Now her eyes glowed with the heat of a summer¡¯s sun.

    Pure malice focused on the poor mortal with her grip.

    Autumn¡¯s heart beat faster as the end drew near. Her ninth dance about the ballroom was almost complete. Escape became an actual possibility instead of the faint dream of before.

    The Fair Maiden now spoke like an oncoming drought, ¡°To bid thee a valorous dancer would be a lie, but I must admit thee did last longer than I did expect, yet this must be the end. I¡¯ll drag thy husk for a tenth turn.¡±

    A giggle like a thousand dying men erupted forth from the being of pure malice and hunger.

    It burned in Autumn¡¯s ears and etched terror into her soul.

    As the ninth dance neared its end, the two entwined dancers prepared.

    Under the baleful moonlight, eyes full of burning sunlight met with eyes full of fear. Their fates entwined forevermore.

    They took the ultimate step.

    A pair of heels clicked together, sounding like a gunshot from a starting pistol. They broke decorum in an instant. With bated breath, the Court awaited, eager to see who would win.

    The Fair Maiden bit down upon Autumn, aiming to tear her neck asunder and leave her bleeding in the dirt. Autumn, in desperation, yanked their still-connected hands into the mouth of the furious fae.

    Sharp teeth bit clean through bone and flesh with an awful sound.

    Free of that crushing grip, Autumn fell outside of the fairy ring, landing painfully on her side.

    The Fair Maiden stared out at the sprawling mortal that had escaped her clutches. The mortal that had played her game and insulted her by winning. Her mouth filled with blood and viscera. Looking down, she blankly took in her minced left hand.

    A sharp throbbing pain had Autumn looking to her right hand, where a mess greeted her, too. The fae had bitten clean through Autumn¡¯s index and middle finger leaving only stumps behind that leaked crimson. Before her very eyes, Autumn watched as the Fair Maiden swallowed both of their fingers with a loud gulp. Autumn¡¯s eyes traced an unsettling bulge that traveled down the fae¡¯s throat.

    The Fair Maiden laughed a high and disbelieving laugh of a being with nothing left but wounded pride and hate. Hot angry tears of a scorned love burned down her cheeks as she cried out to the escaped mortal.

    ¡°Congratulations art in order for thy playeth but knoweth this dram wench, I knoweth thy taste and I¡¯ll knoweth thy name anon. Thee¡¯ll regret spurning me, for the summer is long and I¡¯ll has¡¯t mine prey. So runneth, runneth, and be hunted. ¡±

    With fright moving her limbs, Autumn scrambled to her bleeding feet and rushed to the clearing¡¯s edge while the laughter and howls of the court tore at her back.

    The stumps of her fingers quickly stained her top as she sought to stem the bleeding.

 Chapter Three: Lost in the Feywild

    Autumn ran for her life.

    She wasn¡¯t graceful about it, more akin to a scurrying rat as she crashed through the twisting bushes that blocked her flight. The haunting forest was lit only by the silvery light of the glaring crooked moon far above.

    In the gloomy light, a mess of roots taller than skyscrapers and longer than city blocks lay bare before the fleeing girl. She worked her way into the maze of natural stairways, tunnels, and passages formed from the weave of the unnatural wood.

    In her fright and flight, she hardly noticed the creatures that eyed her with distrust.

    A fox the size of a horse with eyes made of purest shadows and five tails tipped with stingers akin to a scorpion wisely slunk away from her passing. Fearful not of her, but of what she might be running from.

    As she clambered over a dying log, it bloomed with vibrant pink flowers that caught the light in a beautiful display. Yet she had no time to admire the flora, as she had no clue when the fae may pursue her.

    The Fair Maiden¡¯s wrathful eyes and haunting call had promised a Wild Hunt. Folklore of Earth spoke of the Wild Hunt as a herald of absolute war and unimagined death. A mighty host of thousands of fae-folk would leave naught but slaughter in their wake. They would hound their prey and, in their weakness, strike them down.

    Autumn had barely escaped a single fae, not even intact for all her efforts. A thousand riders would spell her doom. Already she could hear the baying of hounds that split the silent and eternal night.

    The mad cries of the fae-beasts echoed from all directions.

    Haunting her.

    Chasing her.

    In her frightful flight, she¡¯d find neither burrow nor offered shelter from the denizens of the Feywild, as they too feared the fury of the war host above all. Autumn would have to run and keep running until an opportunity arose.

    Not that she even knew where she was or where to go. It was a mad, mad world she had fallen into and there was no white rabbit for her.

    Cold sweat built up upon her aching back as her lungs burned with exertion and her legs ached with the strain. Despite the sharp acrid pain in her feet, she fell into a rhythm.

    Foot after foot.

    The practice track had always called to her back home. The burn of her limbs and lungs pulled her into a world where she was all alone. A place where she could be herself and all that mattered was one foot placed before another.

    Into that world she now fell. The pain and fear became a background noise as she ran and ran and ran.

    Even breaths filled her battered lungs with the air of this unknown world.

    She ignored the passing lakes nestled between roots that were filled with glowing, hungry eyes. She ignored the creatures, pretending to be small trees and branches as she passed by their slow swings.

    Further on, she ran.

    The music of a steady, rapid heartbeat was the only sound that filled the aching silence.

    How many times had she been absent from music? It filled the modern world. From every corner, every store flowed freely with the melody of culture. Only now devoid of it did Autumn realize how much.

    How much it had been a part of her life and how much she had relied upon it to soothe her. Now, without it, the silence was ever deeper and oppressive.

    The baying of the hounds broke her introspection, sounding off in the gloom, sounding impossibly close. Sounding so clear, as if they were at her heels already.

    Her pace quickened at the sound.

    With wide eyes filled with desperation, she whipped her sight from side to side as she raced along, looking for gaps and tunnels to lose her hunters within. Shapes loomed within the dark, and Autumn could not determine if they were real or conjured up by her frantic mind.

    Was that cluster of branches a house-sized spider gazing upon her? A root the size of a freight train, or was it a python laying in wait for prey far larger than her?

    Autumn flinched away from them all the same in this twisted forest. Who knew what was possible? It wasn¡¯t long in her mind since a tale had whisked her away from her home. A tale told to frighten naughty children, after all.

    Autumn ground to a halt as a fallen tree blocked her path. The obstacle was the same size as those around and was far too large to climb in any reasonable timeframe. She would need to pick a direction to continue her flight.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Yet, which one would lead to safety and which to doom? Or were both towards doom?

    In the end, it might not even matter, for if she stayed in place contemplating and analyzing the Wild Hunt would catch up in no time.

    ¡°Which way?¡±

    With no time to spare, she flipped a coin in her mind and it landed, favoring the left.

    The path alongside the dead titan of nature was mostly clear, as the tree itself had crushed most obstacles in its fall. What it left was still massive in comparison to her small mortal frame.

    With a suddenness that left her reeling and stumbling in the dark, the silvery moonlight that had been lighting her way in the dense forest dimmed to an almost pitch black. A cloud of unnatural design crept upon the raging moon and obscured it from sight.

    In that instant, the silent forest of the Feywild grew somehow even more silent before exploding into a cacophony of rabid howls and grim calls from trumpeting warhorns.

    The Wild Hunt began.

    The ground below Autumn¡¯s tormented feet quaked as thousands of hooves beat upon it. Millions upon millions of birds scattered into the sky as they too fled from the hunting host. The trumpeting of a hundred warhorns off in the distance was deafening and Autumn ran faster. Her bloody feet slapped hard onto the dirty ground as she stumbled over loose rocks and sharp twigs.

    But the pain was nothing to her right now.

    Ahead of the desperate girl was a break in the fallen tree. It¡¯d come crashing down once long ago upon the thick root of another grand tree. While it had devastated the sturdy root, a small tunnel had formed beneath the joining.

    Small enough, she might barely crawl through. Thus, she hoped the massive warhost would have to deviate around and buy her more time. She slid harshly into the dirt at its entrance, cold and pitch black inside like a portal to an unknown realm.

    Into the dark, she scrambled.

    Each tree that grew in this wood was utterly massive. she could not understate how large they truly were. An entire city block would fit with the base of one. And now Autumn had to crawl between one. The confining tunnel wasn''t completely uniform. Sometimes Autumn could almost stand within, while other times she¡¯d be crawling on her belly as she squeezed through its claustrophobic halls.

    Yet she persevered.

    But before long, she heard the echoing cries of the war hounds baying at the entrance to her escape. They had caught up and begun scrambling into the tunnel with her. Autumn pushed herself harder as she crawled with all her flagging might.

    Arm over arm, she crawled.

    Over dirt and mud, over bugs and other nasties.

    She fell into her focused world, empty of everything but the intent to reach the end. Nothing disturbed her now, not the quaking ground or the fey-hounds that inched ever closer.

    An age and a half passed her by on her belly as she crawled. Her thin pajamas had torn to nothing as they ground up against the wooden walls. Now they were naught but rags that did little to shield her.

    How far had she crawled? And for how long?

    She didn¡¯t know nor care.

    Ahead of her, a beam of silvery light caught her eye. The raging moon had burned away the concealing clouds and now it shone down upon the tunnel¡¯s end.

    The heat of a hound¡¯s breath was right upon her heels as she squeezed free of the narrow gap, her wide hips almost catching. As she scrambled free in the dirt and mud, the snapping jaw of the first of the pursuing dogs emerged from the hole. It clawed at the dirt as it attempted to free itself and pounce upon Autumn.

    Casting about for a weapon or such to defend herself with, she spied a large and heavy stone beside the tunnel¡¯s exit. In a rush, she seized the stone and slammed it down with all her might.

    The hound yelped in pain as blows rained upon it till it stilled.

    Behind the fleshy blockage, she heard the angry baying of more hounds. Soon they¡¯d free themselves of the blockage and be upon her. With a quickness, she hauled her aching body to her bloody feet. The wooden walls of the tunnel had scraped her body raw. It now stung as she raced through the cool air of the eternal night.

    Traveling under the massive tree had been the right call despite the pain and exhaustion as the earth no longer rumbled underfoot and the baying of the war hounds grew more and more distant as she ran.

    She had earned herself some breathing room.

    So Autumn limped forth on battered feet before the Wild Hunt caught up.

    She recited a mantra in her mind ¡°Inhale, exhale. Keep moving, keep running¡± as she ran almost naked through the wilds clad in blood, pain, and fear.

    Through the twisting woods, she ran without direction, only seeking to go opposite the hunters. Now, with the rumble of hooves a distant memory, a new sound grew within her hearing. The rushing of a river was like a balm upon her soul and it lit a spark of hope within her breast.

    Autumn pushed her way through strange bushes and wild plants that hissed and growled at her intrusion till she came within sight of the river.

    It cruelly dashed the burgeoning hope that had been lit within her as she beheld it.

    It was the river of the dead.

    The twisted forms of the souls of the drowned dead choked the river so full that Autumn couldn¡¯t even see the waters that made up the flow. The dead pressed together tightly in a desperate struggle as each sought to reach the surface for the briefest gasp of air.

    Faces of every race and creed struggled the same. There were so many races of folk Autumn had never seen before; elves and dwarves, angels and demons.

    All blended in death.

    Each seeking a salvation they could never have.

    Thus, the river of the dead would churn forever.

    Autumn stood dumbstruck upon the bare gray banks of this river bereft of life and in doing so, the shades of the drowned noticed her. Their watery hands clawed towards the beacon of life they had sensed watching their plight.

    Full of desperate hope or furious rage, they surged forth towards Autumn and the banks of the river buckled under their weight. A mighty wave of souls washed upon the shore, sweeping the stunned girl from her feet.

    Upon the slippery rocks she crashed and she clung to them in her desperation.

    The hands of the dead clasped onto her shivering limbs. A searing cold radiated as they robbed the warmth from Autumn¡¯s body. Every part of her body kissed by the touch of the departed became nearly frozen, leading to her fingers loosening.

    Within moments, she slipped beneath the waiting waters of the river of the dead and the rising tide swept away her bitter tears.

 Chapter Four: Drowning in the River Styx

    Beneath the churning swell of the dead river, a lonely girl sank.

    Down deeper and deeper, they pulled Autumn till they froze her to the marrow, an icy chill robbing her of what little warmth remained.

    In the depths, the raw and unwelcome touch of the dead groped all along her near-nude form. She could hardly move. Entombed by the packed ghosts who all sought to seize a small semblance of her life, to claim what remained of her.

    To claim her before the river added another soul to its profane collection.

    Pale clammy hands wrapped her everything up; throat, limbs, eyes, and heart. They glid through her flesh like the wraiths they were and once again Autumn felt a violation in her innards.

    So she thrashed in the deep, soul-churned waters.

    Seeking salvation and freedom.

    Her body drifted along with the raging currents until she collided with colossal force upon an ancient rock anchor deep within the riverbed. The last gasp was driven from battered lungs to bubble to the surface, but she struck free from grasping dead hands. In her moment of wild desperation, she kicked off that ancient rock, intending to reach the surface.

    The chilling hands grasped for her again, but they were too slow.

    Towards the surface she fled, swimming for all her worth with burning lungs.

    Before her very eyes, ghostly visages drifted; each moaned and wailed, begged, or raged for her. Asking her to save them, to free them. It was a blending cacophony of wordless agony. The cries threatened to drown her mind just as much as the river threatened her failing mortal body.

    With a gasp of shuddering relief, Autumn broke the surface and sucked in the sweetest air she¡¯d ever tasted. Yet it was only for a moment as those forlorn phantoms yanked her below into the gloom.

    Into the endless river, she sank once more.

    Frenzied blows sailed harmlessly through the souls that clung to her form as she fought the inevitable.

    As she fought against her drowning fate.

    Again and again, she¡¯d breach the surface and draw in enough air to fill her battered lungs before being yanked below.

    Down below, a stronger soul stirred. A ghoul rose free from the silt as it awoke, drawn by the wild thrashing of a living soul. The scent was irresistible to the watery dead, so it lashed outwards at the gathered ghosts, driving them away till it alone remained.

    In its victory, it clasped its blubber hand tightly around Autumn¡¯s ankle. The sudden pain the grip brought broke through the frozen numbness. She lashed out with a panicked kicking and, much to her surprise, landed a solid blow to the creature. Seeing a foe before her she could strike, she pummeled the creature with a surprising viciousness till it fled in agony.

    Angry, the creature circled the wavering mortal, waiting for the moment she faltered.

    Despite her reprieve, she was flagging. Her valiant efforts to resist the pull of the dead had left her drained and the chill of the river had sapped her till she felt as warm as a block of ice.

    The other shore lay far away, too far for her weakened limbs to carry her.

    She dipped below, her nose barely above the icy surface as her kicks became more and more languid.

    As she plunged under once more to the joy of the awaiting ghoul, a bony hand clasped upon her neck and hauled her free of her watery grave. Someone subsequently dumped Autumn into an old rickety boat and, like a drowned rat, she flopped about, heaving for air. Great gouts of soul-tainted water escaped her in heaving wretches. It pooled in the boat''s bottom that she had found herself in.

    It was ancient, its wooden planks practically rotted away to nothing. From where she lay, she could spy the souls glaring up at her from below.

    With great effort and force of pure will, Autumn dragged herself to her knees to gaze upon her savior and her eyes beheld a startling familiar sight. The ferryman, an elderly and very weathered skeleton clad in a well-worn black robe, punted the boat along the river.

    It awaited her with a deathly silence.

    ¡°T-Than-nks.¡± Autumn shivered out.

    The Ferryman¡¯s eyeless gaze bore into Autumn as she waited. It seemed annoyed and almost amused by her presence. Almost as if it had been awaiting her, or at least a traveler like her.

    ¡°Few dare to swim within the river. It is not meant for swimming.¡±

    The Ferryman¡¯s voice resounded like the deep emptiness of a dried-up well.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Autumn didn¡¯t trust herself to speak; she didn¡¯t feel qualified to speak with the personification of death, even if she wasn¡¯t near naked and freezing. Fortunately for her, the Ferryman didn¡¯t seem to care for her to respond. They continued talking as she attempted to warm herself up.

    ¡°There is a toll, you know. If you had wished to cross, you only had to pay.¡±

    The Ferryman spoke with an amused tilt.

    Autumn cast about her person and took in the nudity of her body. She had nothing upon her, let alone the presumed coins to pay for her passage across the River Styx. Fearful of being cast back like an undersized fish to the hissing ghoul below or hauled back to the shore whence she had come, she asked the only thing she could think of at that tense moment.

    ¡°Can y-you take an IOU?¡± she stuttered with cold and fright. ¡°At the v-very least, don¡¯t t-take me back. There is a h-hunt after me.¡±

    Already she could hear the baying of hounds in the distance.

    ¡°Ahh, one of those stories. Very well, two coins for two favors. I have seen your future mortal and I will collect one day. So mote it be.¡±

    As the Ferryman spoke his last words, Autumn felt a blazing heat upon her eyes, as if someone had pressed two burning coins into her sockets. It was over in a flash, but she clutched her eyes in pain all the same. Autumn did not know what this grim reaper would call her for, but she had no choice. Not at least if she wanted to live.

    Through the soul-filled waters, they drifted, each content with the silence nestled between them until the ferry beached itself against the opposing bank. Autumn wasted no time in alighting and moving away from the shore lest she be swept in again.

    ¡°Fret not, young mortal, we shall meet again. I¡¯m already looking forward to it. Oh, and go left.¡±

    With that final ominous piece of advice, the Ferryman parted ways with Autumn. She stared bewildered after the boat that grew distant within the hazy fog that drifted over the river of the dead.

    Somehow she had survived not only the clawing grasp of the river but an encounter with the personification of death.

    As her eyes swept back, she caught movement upon the bank opposite to her. Far in the distance, a shadowy figure emerged from the forest edge to scowl her way. A wolf that stood in a parody of a man, something one might create if they had heard what a human looked like without ever laying their eyes upon one.

    Long, thin limbs draped down from a twisted torso that was matted with rough hair. Legs bent in unnatural ways, never the same twice each time you dared to look, and a jaw split into four like a flower, letting a long tongue of blood fall free.

    As it drooled upon the riverbank, it let out a gurgling rasp from its ruined mouth.

    ¡°Sweet snack, come. Let me taste, let me eat. Many are the ways to ford this river. Wait, wait and I¡¯ll taste/eat. Hehehehe.¡±

    The beast stood alone. Autumn guessed it was an outrider of the Wild Hunt, or perhaps just the fastest. She didn¡¯t doubt they¡¯d have ways across the river of the dead; it was their home after all, but she hoped it¡¯d at least stall them long enough for her to rest somewhere.

    Autumn lamented the state of her clothing as she surged to her feet. The waters had finished what the woods had started. Now she stood upon her bloodied feet, clad in nothing but fear, water, and blood. The chill of the night played upon her skin like a musician on a harp, plucking her skin into a landscape of rising bumps.

    She turned away from the hideous gaze of the nightmare and limped into the towering forest with as much dignity as she could muster in her exhausted state.

    Ahead of her, she noticed that someone had carved a path into the trees and roots. They had somehow urged staircases to work themselves from and into the trees along the way, as well as bridges out of still-living vines to cross gaps that would have been near impossible to pass otherwise. While certainly odd-looking, Autumn was just thankful she didn¡¯t have to pick her way through bushes and overgrowths anymore.

    As her mind dulled with endless exhaustion, she dreaded that there was no end to this twisting path.

    Yet luckily, it was not to be so.

    Further along the path was a signpost. However, as she drew closer, it became clear that the ravages of age had rendered it completely illegible. The sign of civilization spurred her on.

    Faster, she limped along the elaborate path that weaved around and even through a few of the trees until she reached the end.

    Another clearing greeted her. Thankfully, this one was clear of fairy rings and ghoulish courts of fae.

    In the center of this clearing sat a strange house that looked to have been grown, much like the path before out of living wood. Vines of wood had sprouted from the muddy earth to entwine each other into a beautiful lattice and formed a quaint little cottage upon a stone base. On top was a triangular roof that capped the home, completely overgrown with grasses and wildflowers. At the very back, a stone chimney that peaked above the roofline was utterly wrapped up in creeping vines.

    No smoke drifted into the night and no light shone within the few dark windows or below the sturdy wooden door.

    It seemed nobody was home and by the state of the grounds, nobody had been here for a long time.

    To the right of the dilapidated building had once been likely a lovely little garden. Now it was a veritable maze of utterly fantastical vegetables; bright fruits of all shapes and sizes alongside equally bright flowers.

    The sight of which set her stomach ablaze with hunger. She¡¯d not eaten since they had taken her and who knew how long ago that had been, if time even applied here?

    To the opposite side of the space was a broken-down chicken coop. No animals chuckled within and judging by the smashed-in straw roof and slashed-apart timber, some large wild animals had ravaged the animals within a long time ago.

    Of what the back of the house looked like, Autumn had no sightline to see.

    Separating her from the high grasses of what may have been a lawn once was a waist-high wall that was as shattered and gaped as an old man¡¯s grin. Stones lay scattered about and an old rotten gate hung limp in its housing.

    A single touch sent it tumbling into a heap.

    As Autumn strode past the broken gate, she gazed upwards and saw what the dweller of this home had been using the chickens for. Hanging from the trees to encircle the clearing was a series of bird skulls fashioned into intricate designs.

    Like dream catchers conjured from a haunted mind.

    Each swung in the slight breeze and their crumbling and hollow sockets followed Autumn as she woozily stumbled across to the doorstep.

    While only spoken of in stories and fairytales, it was clear to Autumn that the rotten dwelling before her was a witch¡¯s abode.

    She wondered what was worse.

    That there was nobody home?

    Or that someone was?

 Chapter Five: A Witchâ€™s Hut

    The front door was locked.

    An old protector formed of ancient wood bound by rusted iron had been forgotten by time, yet it still sat resolutely within the entryway to bar entry to unwelcome visitors.

    ¡°Is anyone home?¡±

    Autumn hoarsely called as she hammered her tired fists upon the weathered wood. Into the chamber beyond her knocking resounded and only the creaking of wood was her answer. Nothing living stirred or called back in reply.

    The door rattled in place as she shoved upon it, hardly budging from its frame.

    Autumn had to resolve herself to the fact that nobody was home and, judging from the overgrown state of the grounds, they hadn¡¯t been in a long time. She needed to get inside as her blood loss was getting dire. Her mind was growing increasingly hazy as the adrenaline that had been coursing through her wore off.

    Casting her gaze, she noticed a cloudy window beside the door.

    Retrieving a discarded rock, she smashed in the dusty pane. The crashing noise resounded around the clearing. As carefully as she could in her cold and naked state, she picked out the remaining glass from the window frame before hauling herself in.

    A cloud of dust greeted her as she tumbled, causing her to cough and sneeze into the silence. Once her fit had passed, Autumn cast a tired and fugitive glance about the dark chamber lit only by the pale moonlight streaming in through clouded windows.

    An ominous atmosphere, to be sure.

    Hanging from the ceiling all about the room was a myriad collection of dried herbs, vegetables, and near petrified remains of unidentified animals. At the far end of the room was an unlit fireplace stained by soot and ash. A chimney ran up the back like a crone¡¯s spine from the cozy hearth, twisting until it breached the ceiling.

    Within it a warped black iron cauldron hung, awaiting use. The firewood that had been once fresh beside it now had colonies upon colonies of mushrooms growing upon it.

    Near the fireplace and taking up a majority of the right-hand side of the shadowed chamber was a tattered bed that was practically blanketed with dust. The musty sleeping space was only shielded by a hanging molded curtain that was so moth-eaten that it could be mistaken for lace.

    An old broken wardrobe filled with rags that might once have been clothing sat at the foot. Opposite, on the left-hand side, was a workspace laden with shelves of dusty jars filled with various unidentifiable substances, some even softly glowing to Autumn¡¯s concern.

    A fetus of some strange creature still pulsed and moved with one jar beside another, just packed with eyes of every colouration.

    Across every unoccupied surface was a scattering of unlit candles that had melted down onto whatever surface they graced. A humanoid skull ran with waxy tears. Autumn wondered what they had done to receive such a fate as a candle-holder in death as she shakily entered the space.

    By now exhaustion utterly wracked her body but she had to tend to her injuries first before the bed could claim her, lest she not wake in the morrow.

    Woozily, she made her way across to the old wardrobe, leaving behind bloody footprints. Reaching inside, she grabbed a few old dresses and shirts and began cleaning herself. The gross soul water that still clung to her and her still-flowing blood stained the rags immediately. She tore the cleanest of the rags into strips with her teeth and uninjured hand till she had enough to bind herself.

    Autumn was in a sorry state. Bruises and cuts covered her skin from her flight, and every point where a ghost had touched her was irritable and red. The handprints stood out on her pale flesh.

    The first of her injuries she sought to mend was her hand, as it was in the worst state and without its use, the rest would be much harder to tend.

    Autumn eyed her hand. The stumps of her fingers torn ragged with the white of bone peaking through. Even if she had the fingers, she doubted that could have saved them. As best she could, she cleaned them of the dirt, and grim tears sprung into her eyes as the throbbing pain became much more.

    Once done, she turned her attention to the fireplace.

    The wood placed beside it was nearly unusable, but there were a few pieces that were just dry enough to light. With one hand, she awkwardly built a fire by stuffing a few shreds of dry cloth under the kindling inside the hearth before fumbling with a flint till sparks caught.

    She gently blew upon them, hoping they would bring warmth and light into her nightmare. Thankfully, they did and soon a fire began to grow and shed a billowing heat upon her tender frozen flesh. Autumn basked in the heat a moment before plucking an old iron poker from beside her and thrusting it into the fire, tending it till the metal glowed red.

    Like an angry devil, it blazed as she withdrew it from the fireplace until she held it before her bleeding stumps. As she clenched her teeth upon a bite of wood, she pressed the heated metal upon her ravaged flesh.

    She screamed into her teeth as a white-hot pain engulfed her.

    Autumn found herself unnerved and disgusted at how hungry the smell of cooking flesh made her as the remains of her fingers seared close. Sweat poured down Autumn¡¯s forehead and plastered her tangled black hair onto her face.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    She took the cleanest of the rags and wrapped the hurting and burnt wounds. She knew she needed to keep them clean, as she¡¯d die if they got infected.

    Moving on, Autumn turned her attention to her feet.

    They were ruined.

    It surprised Autumn that she could even walk, given the state of them. The skin had been worn off by who knows how many hours of dancing and the flight that had followed had embedded thorns and stones within.

    Pure adrenaline had fueled her into ignoring the pain and only now was she feeling it and it was hell. Holding in her whimpers, she pulled free the invading fragments from her soles.

    The pain was almost blinding as she cleaned the bloody mess and wrapped them in strips of makeshift bandages. Soon she had them as clean and covered as she could.

    All that remained to deal with was her ravenous hunger.

    The dried vegetables hung mockingly high above her.

    As getting up again would hurt far too much now that she had become aware of her wounds, she instead crawled over to a moldy broom propped up against the wall and used it instead to smack a few stringy vegetables free.

    Autumn feasted upon what she assumed were carrots. At the very least, they looked like them. The taste was as bland as could be because of their dried nature, but she was starving, so she choked them down.

    As the last of her secured food vanished, a rumbling noise outside drew her attention, so she made her way to the shattered window she had entered from. Outside across the wild lawn, the fae hunters had arrived. Not all mind, just a few dozen of the thousands that made up the Wild Hunt.

    Not that it was much of a consolation.

    Each fae being was of a different shape or size than the rest, warped by whatever values of beauty they abided by. The riders had stopped at the edge of the clearing and were warily eying the charms of bone that waved in the wind.

    And it seemed as if the charms were gazing back.

    Rusted iron nails held each of the charms that Autumn could see in place. Autumn recalled that cold-iron was said to ward off fae-folk. She only hoped that their rusted nature wouldn¡¯t affect them too much.

    As the hunters spotted Autumn peeking out at them, they snarled and cursed at her, furious that she had found shelter.

    Nervously, Autumn glanced at the heavy door that had barred her entrance. Now behind it, she could see that a heavy iron bar was latched in place and had rusted shut. Looking upwards, she also saw an old iron horseshoe that hung protectively over the doorway.

    Perhaps to ward off evil? Or at the very least, the fae.

    Autumn snuck one last tired glance over at the fae before retreating to the bed. There was nothing she could do right now about the hunters gathered, and this hut appeared to be shielded from their intrusion.

    What better place was there to rest her weary bones?

    Tomorrow, she promised herself, she¡¯d deal with it.

    Autumn dusted off the bedcovers as best she could before crawling her abused and battered body onto the creaky frame. The flare of pain from her aggravated injuries caused her to wince.

    Like the saddest of burritos, she wrapped herself up in the tattered blankets and quickly drifted off to the land of sleep, hoping that this was all a nightmare and that she¡¯d awake tomorrow in her bed.

    Yet it was not to be.

    High above in the shadowed night, a duo of shades rested, the third having been rent asunder by a sight best left unseen.

    ¡°A deal concluded, a young wench hast been delivered.¡± The first shade giggled.

    ¡°A dram late, one might argue.¡± The second shade replied.

    ¡°Tis not mine own fault that the wretched hag did fail to account that another world might findeth the gall to name their children after the seasons, nor is this year¡¯s Autumn dead yet. That child¡¯s day of birth still looms after all.¡± The first shade mocked.

    ¡°Whilst comical twas it behoveful to setteth the Wild Hunt upon the wench?¡± The second shade questioned.

    ¡°Twas worth it to behold the look upon the Fair Maiden¡¯s visage.¡± The first shade spoke, ¡°Besides they art destined foes, I just gaveth a dram nudge.¡±

    <hr>

    When Autumn next awoke, it was to the intense aching in every part of her body. She had pushed every muscle in her body to its limit and then urged them beyond. Somehow, even her eyelids ached. Still, it was that hurt that made her realize she was still alive and that the events before her slumber hadn¡¯t been a wicked and terrible dream.

    Autumn¡¯s body shivered in its sweat-soaked state as a building fever wracked her body.

    Despite the alluring urge to surrender to the lull of sleep and ignore the twitching of her muscles, she couldn¡¯t as not only was she hungry once more, but she hadn¡¯t forgotten the fae outside.

    With an extreme force of will, she pulled herself upright upon the soaked sheets, groaning in agony as she did so. As slowly as her body allowed, Autumn stretched out her muscles, working to relax those that had tensed up in a cramp. As they loosened, she became more of a person and less of a barely functional zombie.

    Nearby, the small fire she had lit before still crackled slowly away, almost finished consuming the wood she had left it. The radiating heat it provided offset the chilling breeze that floated through the space from the broken window she had made.

    Aside from the hearth, the only light inside the hut was that soft moonlight let in by the cloudy windows.

    After wiping away the grime and dust as much as she was able with loose bedding, Autumn gazed outward and up. Despite resting what was most likely a full night¡¯s rest, the hateful moon still hung in the sky above, unmoved from its cage.

    It would seem that the sun did not grace this realm at all.

    A loud gurgle interrupted Autumn¡¯s contemplation. She clutched at her stomach as it announced itself. She held no power to make the sunrise, but she felt she could at least feed herself.

    Autumn¡¯s gaze swept the room for any scrap of food. Last night, she had devoured the carrot-like vegetables to the last stringy strand, so she needed to search for another source of nourishment.

    The shelves of assorted jars would be a last resort, so she hobbled over to the fire. There beside it, in a small alcove, was a shabby pantry. It was in as much of a sorry state as herself. Time had rendered anything fresh that may have once been housed within into dust.

    All that remained was a meager scattering of dried and desiccated food.

    Still, she wolfed those down as her only other option was the garden outside and who knew what lived within. A wineskin she had plucked from the shelf had a mouthful of what may have been wine at some point. Now it tasted like vinegar and sorrow, but she was hardly in a place to complain.

    With that, her voracity was quelled.

 Chapter Six: A Hat Well-Worn

    It was time to address her most immediate issue, that of apparel.

    Or a lack of it.

    Currently, she had nothing to cover her modesty aside from a wet blanket and shame. While it was possible to fashion one of those two into something wearable, she had spotted proper clothing while rummaging for rags.

    The old wardrobe was still ajar, with ripped clothing spilling forth. Among those tattered pieces were a few that, while time and the elements had worn them down, were still somewhat serviceable, at least until she found proper civilization.

    One that was hopefully friendlier than the fae.

    The underwear available left much to be desired as they looked much more like baggy shorts tied up with cord and a loose, white-ish shirt, but it was better than going commando. The undershirt¡¯s material scratched roughly on her battered and sensitive skin. After struggling into those, she plucked up a fraying gray tunic from the pile. It was laced up at the hips on either side and sported a deep v-neck that could also be laced closed.

    With minimal cursing, she struggled into a pair of thick brown pants made of musty-smelling hide or tanned leather. While rough on the outside, they had been lined with a softer material. The clothing was fitted for someone not much shorter than Autumn was, so while the pants rode a little high at the ankles and the top was a little scant at the wrists, it wasn¡¯t too bad. While age had eaten away at them, they still beat running about naked to the wind and elements.

    Autumn stuck a finger through a moth-eaten hole in the sleeves.

    ¡°Next marketplace I find, I¡¯ll replace it, once I get money, of course.¡±

    Resting at the base of the wardrobe alongside a musty pair of frayed socks was the saddest and most beaten pair of leather boots she had ever seen. Autumn wasn¡¯t much of a shoe kinda girl, preferring either running shoes or work boots, but even she would have to admit these were ugly as all sins. The leather was stained and far more cracked apart than an old man¡¯s face, but they were all she could find in her size.

    Anyway, it was far too soon to wear anything on her wounded feet.

    Turning her attention back to the wardrobe, she spotted two more articles of clothing that would complete her ensemble: that of a hat and a robe. What had once been a dark black robe had faded away with age into a hazy gray. Yet, despite its advanced years, it still kept a level of comfort Autumn desperately desired.

    Her slender arms disappeared into voluminous sleeves as the heavy fabric fell upon her narrow shoulders. She felt secure in its billowing grace and bundled warmth as it draped down past her hips and thighs to swirl around her calves. A small iron chain that was untouched by rust fastened either side together, and Autumn wasted no time in securing it together.

    Upon further investigation, she found to her surprise and delight that the inside was lined with many deep pockets, including a few secretive ones in the lining she barely caught in her inspection. Perfect for hiding coins, trinkets, or other valuables inside.

    She had never been in love with any article of clothing more.

    Once finally snuggled deep within the warmth, she set to examining the last item, the hat.

    A peak had wizened and folded down upon itself like the hunched form of a man¡¯s spine beset by age. Upon its black leather shone a crone¡¯s face of gray cracks and wrinkles that spidered and crept down to a rat-chewed brim.

    It was an old witch¡¯s hat.

    Yet despite that, it was proud, regal almost as it hung in place and as Autumn placed it upon her much younger brow, it dipped under a weight that took her by surprise.

    In fright, she tore it free and held it at arm¡¯s length. With no small amount of trepidation, she placed the hat back upon its rest.

    ¡°Ok, weird. What else is in this place? And Autumn, be more careful with spooky things.¡±

    Now that she was clothing-clad, Autumn set about examining the shelter she had invited herself into. She had caught a brief glimpse the night before in her hurried rummaging, but now she had further time to plunder this stranger¡¯s hut and find the secrets hidden within.

    The place that had first captured her wayward attention even with the flaring pain in her feet was the shelves that lay burdened with a myriad of jars and bottles that contained all manner of wondrously creepy contents. Among the rows, Autumn spied bottles of dead pixies with wings of glitter, jars that held bat¡¯s ears or frog¡¯s tongues, a glass jar that held within pure darkness, and many, many more strangeness.

    With the wall as support, she hobbled her way across to the display; cursing under her breath as she went.

    Below the shelves sat an old workbench that numerous substances had stained. The wood had warped to a palette of splotched colors. An equally weathered and worn chair sat before it as if awaiting an occupant.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Autumn obliged the seat and gave her aching feet a rest.

    What she hadn¡¯t noticed earlier in her search for aid for her wounds and nourishment for her growling belly was an old dusty book resting on the stained tabletop. A cover of aged leather was bound along the edges and spine with thin patterned iron that had worn smooth from oils and time¡¯s touch. Enclosed within were many yellowed pages that had warped and buckled.

    It looked more akin to a tome of old than any simple book.

    Autumn picked it up with care.

    In her hands, it felt heavy, and she wondered just how long it had been waiting for a wandering soul to page through it. With as much care as she could muster, she cracked it open, the iron and leather creaking as the cover shifted and its dust fell away.

    The first page was nearly blank aside from a series of strange runes and markings that, despite never seeing before, Autumn could understand.

    Before her eyes, they resolved and thus they read.

    Beware all who read the private property of Witch Augus.

    Be ye witch-hunter, may you die in a fire.

    Be ye adventurer, may you eat troll dung.

    Be ye tax-collector, see all the above.

    If you are still reading this, that means that you are not any of those listed above or all the deadly curses I had placed upon this tome have faded.

    Call yourself lucky if so.

    Autumn glanced nervously down at the book in her hands that hadn¡¯t burst into a cacophony of spells and violent exhalations. Seeing that she indeed could call herself lucky, she flipped the page excitedly in search of more hints of magic within.

    This, Tome of Witchcraft and Arts Most Black, is the property of Witch Augus, the most terrible and wise. Within you will find my last will and legacy to be passed on to a young witch destined to surpass me.

    In my entire lifetime, as long and storied as it was, I failed to find such a girl who could inherit my vast knowledge of magicks. I had tried it all, every advice my so-called peers had graced upon me; kidnapping a lowly peasant, creating one from blood and magic, even bewitching those in need of power. Yet all fell short.

    In my desperation, I even contacted those blasted fae that ruled the lands I found had hidden my abode, but the slippery gobshites found some way to weave around the wording. My every utterance of our deal would leave them in fits of giggles, only uttering that she would come despite Autumn already passing sevenfold.

    So despite all this, I am left with my only option, to write everything I know or have accumulated in my lifetime within this leather and iron Tome and hope some girl of destiny wanders in to find it. A slim hope. Or perhaps you are the girl promised? Either way, it matters not only that my knowledge and legacy carry on.

    Oh and my hat, I suppose you can have that too, if it has survived.

    Gentle was the rage that boiled beneath Autumn¡¯s skin, anger bound by society like a dog chained that eyes the hand that strikes it with a simmering intent.

    She needed a moment to think, to breathe.

    This was the reason she was here, why she had to endure all the pain, misery, and fear. She suffered because this witch had made a poor deal with the fae.

    Within her aching breast was the seething desire to cast the ancient tome into the crackling fire, to cast the instigator of her toil into the depths, to be forgotten by all and deny the wicked witch her last will. Yet even as the hate festered within herself, she could still see that this was her chance. The fae still awaited her outside, and they¡¯d eventually find a way inside or just starve her out.

    So she clung tightly to the book and its offered knowledge.

    Magic was the unfulfilled dream of countless of Earth¡¯s generations. Its boundless grasp had tantalized many and she couldn¡¯t pass up the chance to learn.

    It would become her strength.

    With a quill in her uninjured and non-dominant hand, she viciously scratched out Witch Augus¡¯ neat handwriting and filled in her scrawl.

    Beware all who read the private property of Witch Augus Autumn.

    After taking a calming breath, Autumn filled her mouth with dried fruits that tasted of bitter lemons and sweet chocolate, before turning the page.

    Many are the ways to pluck at the weave of magic, to make the world bend to one¡¯s will. Sorcerers would pull from their blood, casting the magics of the ancestors; fae, fiend, angel, or even draconic. Wizards study the ebbs and flows; they forge magic through the discovery of the many many pathways that permeate the many worlds. In contrast, we have warlocks; pacted casters who are bound to their patron and can only cast what is allowed to them, often at the cost of their very soul or something equally dear. Druids give and take with nature and Runelords carve with bone, stone, and metal.

    These are but a few examples.

    Witches take a different tack in controlling their weave. We are beings of purest emotion. Never let it be said otherwise. We pay for every spell and ritual with emotion. It is the most potent source of power aside from the soul itself, but that is a lesson for another time.

    Any emotion can work; anger, hope, desperation, fear. Some work better than others for specific things; anger for attacking or love for protecting, for example. Collecting a single emotional type works best. It creates pathways or grooves that make subsequent efforts all that much easier than scattering yourself too far as it will make you unfocused.

    But how do I collect emotion? you may ask, and where do I keep it? Well, in a hat, of course. No, really. With a witch¡¯s hat nestled upon your head, you simply reach inside and feel that emotion. Once grasped, pluck it free and tuck it under your brow warmer.

    However, a word of warning before trying (If you haven¡¯t skipped ahead), don¡¯t take it all. Why? You ask, well if someone is drained fully of a particular emotion, it¡¯ll make them empty, hollow. Without anger, you become weak. Without hope, you might just lie down and die.

    So go on and try, just be careful. Oh, and don¡¯t worry about what emotion to try first. You¡¯ll have much more time to specialize later.

 Chapter Seven: Manic Magic

    With a gentle sigh of annoyance, Autumn cast her gaze across the darkened room only lit by the enchanting moonlit and the fading glow of the warm fire. There, resting where she had left it as if mocking her, was the fraying hat. With reluctance, she parted with her comfortable rest and hobbled once again across the chamber to retrieve it.

    It felt even more mystically heavy than before, and when it fell upon her head, she resolved herself to accept that weight.

    It was magic, after all.

    ¡°So just grab some emotion?¡± Autumn huffed quietly to herself, ¡°Why don¡¯t I just bottle sunlight or something while I¡¯m at it?¡±

    ¡°Calm down, Autumn, just try.¡±

    Autumn took a deep breath.

    Deep within her body, she searched for the feeling of magic. Perhaps she was a sorcerer instead. It was unlikely, in her opinion, but it didn¡¯t hurt to check. There was nothing. No font of dwelling magic or pulse within her veins. Autumn had already ruled out a wizard¡¯s path as studying wasn¡¯t her forte. Druid too was out, as she had killed every plant she had attempted to nurture.

    Slow, rhythmic breathing echoed within the enclosed chamber as she delved deeper into her mind and body.

    Emotions it was, but which?

    Hope? She wasn¡¯t feeling very hopeful about her situation right now.

    Love? No. Happiness? Not for a long time.

    Perhaps anger? It was too unruly for her, fleeting in its rising and falling.

    Sadness? She tried to use it, but the grief she had hidden deep within cut her like the sharpest of razors. Autumn distanced herself before she drowned once more in that familiar river.

    There was one emotion that almost leaped to her, beckoning.

    Fear.

    It flitted about her chest like a wild animal within a thunderous storm, always seeking freedom in a choking fit or a wide-eyed scream. It had been a constant companion to Autumn, and it had grown glutinous upon her grief.

    That deep well of paranoia and fright was a perfect candidate for her magicka.

    With a delicate hand, she pressed up against her ribcage and sought to grasp onto that feeling. With a thrashing and howling intent, the fear fought back, sending spikes of panic flooding Autumn¡¯s system. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as the blood rushed in time with the beast.

    Her blood felt as if it was boiling and her heart was racing to its doom. Despite how hard she gritted her teeth and pulled, she couldn¡¯t wrench it free. Back awash with sweat, Autumn slumped back into her seat and gulped down a steady stream of air to calm her racing heart.

    She realized her fault was in trying to take far too much, far too soon.

    Far too excited by the prospect of using magic herself, failure would not scare Autumn away.

    With no small amount of trepidation in her hands and a thrilled glint in her eyes, Autumn tried again, this time with a gentler hand. She grasped a smaller piece of fear, a spook more than a fright. She cradled it in her palms like a small animal. It felt more like she had spotted a spider or bug on the floor than the looming specter of death.

    From her chest emerged a coiling form of an inky purplish-black worm. Upon being cast into the world of the real, it wrapped itself tightly around Autumn¡¯s slim fingers and stained them as it struggled to return to her body. With shaking hands, she drew it up past her face and, with an inordinate amount of effort for its size, she shoved it under her ratty witch¡¯s hat. Once she let go, the emotion stayed in place within the crooked hat, making it just a bit heavier.

    Autumn blinked in confusion and amazement. When she had released her hold upon that thin sliver of fear within her hat, it had become cut off from her. Like tension being loosened on a spring, Autumn¡¯s mind felt just a little lighter. It was only the witch¡¯s warning and the gargantuan effort it took to carve even the smallest sliver off that stopped her from freeing herself of the rest.

    Yet she thought to herself deep down that would it be so bad to be without fear? To not have to shy away from everything in fright? Her traitorous mind replayed scene after scene of the terrible events that dominated her life, her humiliations and grief.

    The tragedy of the accident.

    Eager to distract herself and learn more, she turned back to the book and continued reading.

    Now you have presumably extracted some small amount of emotion from yourself or another, you must use it for something. It¡¯d be a waste otherwise. The first thing we¡¯ll start with is Hexes.

    A Hex is the most common form of witch magic. They can be as simple as a tripping spell or as lethal as a killing curse. But before you learn either, you must first create for yourself an anti-hex charm. Why? Because, my na?ve apprentice, witches are your biggest threat. We don¡¯t get along well and neither do we like to share.

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Autumn would have set fire to the book with her eyes if she could do so. She was already well aware of the dangers of witches.

    Settling her anger down, she glanced at the instructions laid out before her.

    Step 1. First place three intact chicken bones into an equal-sided triangle no larger than an inch long on either side.

    Step 2. Twine them together at the intersections with a dead man¡¯s hair (a dead woman¡¯s works fine). Brunette hair works best, but never use ginger!

    Step 3. Encase the charm in beeswax to seal it.

    Step 4. Infuse the sealed charm with magic and emotion (something related to defense works best).

    Step 5. Finally, place the charm upon your body. It can be on a belt or in a pocket as long as it is on your person.

    Now remember, it is a single-use charm, as it¡¯ll snap if it takes a hex for you. So you might wish to wear multiple.

    It didn¡¯t take long for Autumn to ransack the hut for the listed components even with her injuries and return to the worktable. There, she began her first foray into magical crafting. The missing fingers on her right hand proved a hindrance to her efforts. She kept finding herself attempting to use the phantom limbs, and it fouled her work.

    Yet despite the setbacks, she finished the charm after only snapping a few dry bones.

    Reaching into her newly gained hat, she pulled free a tiny sliver of fear and poured it into the charm, focusing on the protection she desired. Like a deep purple jelly, it oozed viscously into the charm until it clung to the bones and vanished.

    Autumn slumped back into the creaking of the chair beneath her.

    The tedious work had aggravated her burnt fingers. Now they throbbed with a pain that tore into Autumn¡¯s mind. With gritted teeth, she clutched tightly at her hand as tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. When the pain had dulled she glanced down at the tome before her, perhaps it had something to help her?

    With renewed vigor, she began leafing through the yellowed pages in search. Page after page of spells or recipes passed her by until she stopped on a particular entry.

    Herbal healing cream

    A simple recipe that any young witch should learn. The cream is a basic herbal remedy; it can heal light wounds, cuts, burns, or general muscle fatigue.

    While it won¡¯t be as fast-acting or powerful as an alchemist¡¯s healing potion or a cleric¡¯s divinely granted prayer, it will be cheaper. The healing cream can be made almost anywhere, the ingredients change per recipe, but as long as you infuse a positive emotion, it¡¯ll work to varying degrees.

    Below, you¡¯ll find my recipe that I¡¯ve found works best without relying on any convoluted ingredients.

    Step 1. Finely ground together two dried eel leaves and five dandelion flowers (no stems).

    Step 2. Add wrath leech juice until the mixture is covered fully.

    Step 3. Mix until you have a smooth mixture (add more wrath leech if necessary).

    Step 4. Add arrowroot flour, mixing until you have a creamy consistency.

    Step 5. Infuse the mixture with a positive emotion. (love, care, happiness, etc..)

    All manner of bottles and jars filled the shelving above her. Whatever labels that had been upon them had worn away in the moonlight as dim as was. Now only faded paper remained. Luckily, Witch Augus had illustrated the ingredients alongside the recipe, so Autumn could compare each ingredient to the drawings.

    Eel leaves looked just like their namesake, long thin they rested within a sealed glass jar. Dandelion flowers were the same bright golden color she recognized from Earth and Wrath leeches looked just as she was expecting just in a bright slimy orange.

    Into an old stone mortar and pestle the ingredients went, and with only a little difficulty she had a creamy mixture spooned into a lacquered wooden tub about the size of her palm.

    All it needed now was joy.

    Something Autumn was in short supply but not devoid of, which was a surprise to her. Despite the horror she had endured, all the pain and suffering, she found a small part of herself was joyous at the act of creation.

    She was an artist at heart, after all.

    So she reached out to that tiny nugget of joy inside and it rushed to fulfill her needs. It was much harder to hold back and not empty herself. It was almost too eager to be used.

    The mixture was complete.

    Autumn felt drained as the rush of joy left her body. All she had now was pain and ever-present fear. Hugging her knees, Autumn cried. Being without joy was no foreign thing to her, but never this sudden, this otherworldly. She now understood the warning that the witch had written. If she felt like this all the time? If she had hollowed herself of joy?

    Then she might not carry on anymore.

    Wiping away the tears in her eyes, Autumn snatched up the jar she had made and sought to fix up her aches and pains. A long road home stretched out before her and she¡¯d never make it if she couldn¡¯t even take the first step.

    The bandages wrapped around her feet had practically glued themselves together with her sticky blood. They peeled away with a hair-raising stickiness and tore at her scabbed feet, causing them to bleed freely once more.

    Drops of blood fell unbidden as she carefully applied the salve.

    Autumn tensed in agony for a moment before a numbing cooling spread throughout. With fresh bandages, Autumn re-wrapped her feet before slipping into a pair of woolen socks that were only mildly musty and moth-eaten.

    What she had left of the paste ended up rubbed into the burnt stumps of her fingers.

    Autumn had aid, and she had protection, but what she lacked was offense. She turned back to the tome. One page she had flipped past in her search had caught her interest. Now she flicked back and re-read it.

    Basic Jinx

    The Jinx is the first spell many witches will learn and cast. It is the bread and butter (if you¡¯ll forgive the phrase) of any witch¡¯s spell list. While not as deadly or long-lasting as a Hex or Curse, Jinxes are faster to cast and less draining on both magic and materials.

    Furthermore, a Jinx can be used with any emotion to varying effects. Tailor, your Jinx to yourself; make it follow your will and desires and it¡¯ll never fail you.

    While any spell catalyst will be capable of casting a Jinx, I find a wand works best as you can aim far better than, say: a staff or amulet. If you found this tome within my hut, you may use mine, if not.

    Well, good luck.

 Chapter Eight: A Cold Wind Blows

    Luckily for Autumn, it didn¡¯t take long to find the wand mentioned by the old witch. The wand had been sitting on the workbench itself, just hidden amongst the other esoteric items.

    Eleven inches long and bent like an old weathered finger. The color of the wood was unlike anything Autumn had seen before in nature, like an iron rod carved with wood grain. Her hand wrapped around a cold white bone handle and the wand sat with a comforting weight within.

    Before Autumn could allow her imagination to truly unfurl, a loud snap interrupted her thoughts. With a frightened, nervous glance, she checked her newly made ward; it was unbroken. Another snap resounded faintly within the space, echoing from outside the confines of the witch¡¯s abode from the shattered window.

    As an icy chill crept and crawled up her spine, Autumn shuffled on healing feet to the broken view. Outside and across the weed-filled lawn was a sight that sent shivers down her skin.

    The Wild Hunters had crept closer in the night.

    Not only that, but more fur and bone-clad fae had gathered before her. A small host that was nearly a hundred large had camped outside the witch¡¯s protections.

    Autumn saw magnificent stags larger than any possible, with antlers that rose high into the sky. Between roots stretched many tents of skin and hides and patrolling hunters who watched the hut with focused intent.

    The way back was thoroughly blocked.

    What was even more concerning was that the wards that fended off the incursion as they were failing. Now and then she saw the fae steadily pushing against the protections, their wild magics sapping what little witchcraft the aged bird skulls and rusted iron kept.

    Witch Augus¡¯ safeguards were fleeting and Autumn¡¯s time was running out.

    Yet all was not lost, as it seemed the wards slowed the hunter¡¯s progress. Each arduous step towards the hut had to be fought for with a grand outpouring of magic. And it also appeared that the flow of the dead river had somewhat hampered the Wild Hunt. The thousands of riders that shook the world with their endless stampede hadn¡¯t arrived yet.

    Autumn knew she had to leave, but when?

    For a moment, she watched from beside the frame. The charms snapped and iron crumbled as she watched and counted. From the speed and progress made, she estimated she had at least a day, maybe less, till they reached the doorway. She hoped that the rusty iron horseshoe above it would buy her more time.

    ¡°Shit, shit, shit.¡±

    Autumn tried not to panic, but that was a hard thing to ask when she did not know what she was doing or where she might run to. The only thing she knew was it needed to be away from here.

    ¡°Alright chill, first things, first grab some of this stuff.¡±

    Autumn lugged an ancient canvas bag with frayed leather straps about the room. Into it went her supplies for the harrowing journey before her. Spare clothes, underwear, and woolen socks. There was little food remaining as she had eaten what dried scraps had remained. If she rationed properly, she had at least three days of nuts and berries. Water, however, was a major concern. All she had left was a mouthful of very stale wine.

    During her search, she found several interesting items, some not so helpful now, but if she survived, they might be rather handy. For example, while on her hands and knees, she peeked under the bed and found a pouch that clinked with coins. The handful inside bore a symbol of a crooked tree on either side.

    There was a single lonely gold, twelve silver pieces, and thirty-two tiny bronze coins.

    How much that was truly worth, Autumn did not know. It could be a basic wage for all she knew, but she secreted it away into her robes, hidden within one of the smuggling pockets.

    What was more handy in the immediate terms was a thick leather belt that held a long iron knife within a sheath. The heavy belt strapped about Autumn¡¯s waist and the knife rested upon her hip and thigh. The weapon brought a sense of reassurance she was rather thin on. Glancing over at the shelves, Autumn debated whether to snag a few for later. On one hand, they¡¯d weigh her down while on the other they might be useful, or at the very least, she could sell them.

    ¡°Fuck it.¡±

    Autumn decided and gathered up as many of the more interesting jars and containers into her bag till it was nearly full.

    The last time on her list of preparations was the boots.

    She had been dreading putting them on. She could wait till she left, but she did not know when that would be. Better to suffer now than lose out on the opportunity later. It took a fair few minutes of wincing and struggling to slip her feet into the softened leather before she laced them up tight. They didn¡¯t fit perfectly, being made for someone with smaller feet than her, but they didn¡¯t pinch too much.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    They¡¯d still suck to run in, but it beat thorns in her feet again. Now she felt prepared to travel through the haunting forest.

    She slumped down upon the rickety bed that howled at her action. Autumn wondered how long she had been awake. It could have been only a minute or it could have spanned hours.

    It felt like it, at least. Her limbs shook and ached and her body shivered with the fever still wracking her body.

    She wanted to sleep. Yet she couldn¡¯t. There was still more to do.

    Slowly and with as much focused intent as she could desperately muster, she began harvesting her emotions. Fear fell away from her in streams as they surrendered themselves to her witch¡¯s hat. All the power she could gain now would make her flight on the morrow all that more possible. It was only when her hat felt as heavy as a mountain and threatening to burst she stopped. She had drawn out as much as she could, yet she still felt afraid, even if it was just a little.

    With an aching body and mind, she fell into an exhausted slumber as the haunting metronome of breaking charms sounded off in the distance.

    Murky and broken dreams slipped past her mind¡¯s eye like a water¡¯s vapour. It distressed her slumber with its wake. In one moment, she spied a matronly figure dressed familiarly. It tingled her recollection, but Autumn couldn¡¯t make out her face as it was a blur of distorted flesh. No matter how hard she fought to approach the matron, the dream doomed Autumn to fall further and further away. Each step cracked the ground like glass till it shattered and she fell into the depthless deep.

    Fell into the inky abyss.

    Falling faster and faster.

    Down.

    Down.

    Down she went.

    Down for what felt like forever until the ground rushed up to meet her in a blur of fright and motion. Just as she was about to impact the black bedrock below, she awoke with a gasp. Autumn tumbled off her bed and the cold, hard slap of a stone floor greeted her face. Groaning in pain, Autumn rose, clutching at her face, still tangled by the twisting bed cloth.

    Outside, the crooked moon still hung in place and shed a foggy moonlight into Autumn¡¯s abode. No matter what happened today, it would be the last time she would awake in this place.

    And hopefully this endless night within the Feywild.

    Autumn dug about in her pack for a mouthful of dried nuts and berries to satisfy her moaning stomach.

    Like a mountain, the weathered hat sat upon her brow packed full of magic. Upon her back went her canvas pack and around her waist went the knife and wand. Autumn was as ready as she¡¯d ever be to run or fight. Deep within her chest, the hollow ache of overdrawn emotion had soothed with rest, but she still felt strange, lighter than ever before.

    Above the entranceway sat that rusted iron horseshoe. Autumn clasped it and wrenched it free of its morning. Down it came in a shower of dust and rust, sprinkling Autumn in its debris. After coughing away the dustiness in her lungs, Autumn peeked outside through the shattered window.

    Either the fae didn¡¯t need or want sleep. Through the endless night while Autumn had slept, they had continued their assault. Gradually, they had crept closer to their prey in its burrow. Now they stood a bare few meters from the front of the crumbling cottage.

    Eager to kill and consume.

    It was time to leave.

    The bar that locked the door was heavy with rust, just like the rest of the abode. As Autumn attempted to wrench it up, it resisted for a moment until, with a last heave of effort, it tore free with a wail of tormented iron.

    Autumn leaped through the open door, ignoring the hisses of the fae so close to the doorstep.

    To the left she slid, feet skipping on the stones and dirt. Away, she fled into the dense overgrown garden that pushed hard up against the old cabin. Flares of wild magic tore through the air after her, leaving trails of green in their wake. A bolt splashed into the hut beside her, sending an explosion of splinters into the air. Autumn ducked low and slipped further into the maze of foliage that the garden was. Further bolts ripped into those leafy roots, but could not reach her for now.

    Strange vegetables and wild fruits ran with the vibrant colors of the rainbow. They shimmered and glowed in fascinating patterns, but Autumn had no time to admire them. Trees and vines spiraled and twisted around each other into a cornucopian maze; the manicured rows had long since broken down. She weaved her way through, having to cut past hanging vines with her iron knife.

    On either side of the clearing, the fae were in pursuit, seeking to cut off her escape, yet the twisting forest delayed them.

    Hands stained by sticky sap, Autumn pushed her way past a bed of chromatic flowers which disgorged a cloud of pollen at her passing. Autumn could have sworn that she heard them growling as well.

    The edge of the clearing came into view, all towering trees of titanic impossibility. No bridges, paths, or tunnels were there to guide her path onward. So she simply ran and followed the twists and turns of the roots.

    All the while, she hoped she¡¯d make it through.

    A lonesome animal trial fanned that hope within her breast. She followed it with clinging desperation as it wound its way ever deeper between roots and rocks.

    The eerie woods seemed to travel on for an eternity. And for an age and a half, Autumn loped along its dim trails. Time here felt unstable and unorganized. She felt tiny, oh so tiny, as she ran beneath the behemoths above.

    Her sense of scale began to warp and twist.

    As she pushed past a cluster of brightly glowing fireflies, her mind snapped back to attention. Standing in the way of her flight was a fae.

    A thin bird-like creature stood tall and menacing upon curved talons sharper than any knife. From the thick bird thighs sprouted a woman¡¯s torso covered in downy dull-brown feathers. Where arms would be instead grew long feathered wings tipped with sharp claws.

    To Autumn, it reminded her of a harpy, or at least the stories of them.

    Its head followed her movements. A sharp hooked beak sat below beady, humanoid eyes that glinted with violence in the moonlight. A plume of reddish feathers flared upwards in a display of aggression.

    It did not speak, only raised its wings to the sides threateningly and hissed.

 Chapter Nine: Fight, Flight, or Fall

    Running wasn¡¯t an option as the fae before her had wings and had trapped her between two towering roots. If she tried retreating, razor-sharp talons would cut her down.

    No, she¡¯d have to fight her way free.

    The harpy-like fae preened triumphantly as it sauntered back and forth, utterly confident in its victory over the cornered prey. Its keen-edged beak snapped with the sound of a gunshot that echoed through the trees. Not wanting to test her remaining fingers against that beak, Autumn instead grasped the iron horseshoe as tightly as she could in what remained of her right hand, while her left gripped that crooked wand.

    With bent knees, she slowly paced forward towards the fae.

    She lifted the iron horseshoe like a shield while the wand pointed outwards with a Jinx brewing. It¡¯d be her first time casting anything. She hoped beyond hope that it¡¯d work.

    At her approach, the bird-like fae rose in aggression and outrage.

    Feinting forwards Autumn caused the fae to retreat in panic and upon seeing her grin it grew angrier still. Again and again, Autumn pushed the cowardly bird backward till it could take the taunting no more and lunged.

    Before the fae could strike, Autumn unleashed the Jinx she had been nervously holding. From the tip of her wand sprung a fear-fueled tendril. The pulse of purplish dark energy lanced forth, curling and twisting through the space between the two combatants before slamming into the fae¡¯s feminine chest.

    The sound of shattering glass and the crunch of metal reverberated in Autumn¡¯s ears.

    Terror flooded the creature¡¯s mind in an instant as the raw fear that Autumn had unleashed upon it ran rampant. Its limbs locked up and fouled its leap, sending it down to the earth below. Before it could right itself, Autumn was upon it with fury and iron. The rusty horseshoe came down upon its thin neck and pinned it to the loamy dirt; driven deep with all the weight Autumn could muster till it was bound tight.

    Smoke billowed up from where the cold-iron touched it. It thrashed, bucking and screeching in agonized torment as its nature rejected the metal. Already its form flickered between nonsensical colors. As much as Autumn wished to finish it, its cries were drawing too much attention. Already she could hear the barks of hounds and the hoofbeats of pursuit.

    With a final parting kick that cracked its beak, Autumn turned tail and fled.

    Well aware she had gotten lucky and was now forced to leave a weapon of iron behind, Autumn was all the more motivated to escape. She knew the next fight wouldn¡¯t be so easy.

    Further into the forest, she hauled her aching, exhausted limbs. She moved quickly through animal trails and the flowing streams, only pausing once to refill her waterskin in the clearest of them. Roots guided the flow of water and Autumn too as she hoped, perhaps naively, that they¡¯d flow out to a sea.

    If the Feywild even had them.

    Time passed like a fog, thick and thin at differing intervals.

    So she slowed, lagged, and faltered under the burden of exhaustion and leaded limbs.

    Yet she couldn¡¯t stop.

    The fae were still tracking her, and despite her dips and dives with streams and over lower roots, she hadn¡¯t shaken them. It wasn¡¯t surprising as it was the Wild Hunt and she was but a lone schoolgirl who was hardly adept at covering her tracks. Haunting quietness followed her every breath, every footfall. The forest listened to her panic. It listened to the baying of hounds and blowing horns. It listened and waited.

    Suddenly, without warning, the forest just ended. It was as if a giant had drawn a line in the earth, creating a canyon that now stretched out before her. Beyond the pine wood, it yawned. While the gap across wasn¡¯t that wide, a mere few meters, the depth was another matter. Darkness threatened to swallow the world within its hungry maw.

    It looked bottomless.

    The other side of the canyon was open and devoid of the trees that dominated hers. Rolling hills disappeared into the night sky. On either side, the break in the earth went on and on into what seemed like infinity; no end was in sight and no bridge or other passage spanned across. Threaded through the walls of the canyon were the roots of the trees, larger on her side than the other.

    Rocks beneath her feet began to skip and sing as the quake of a thousand hooves beat the earth.

    A Wild Hunt in full had gathered.

    As the quaking grew and grew, pieces of rock and stone cracked free of the canyon walls to tumble to their doom below, Autumn heard no sound of an impact. With a frustrated growl, Autumn cast her gaze across the blockage in front of her. Freedom was just in sight, and there was no way back now.

    Not that far across. If she ran and jumped, she might just make it.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Autumn pulled the fear from her chest that strove to falter her at the edge, that feeling of standing at the precipice and having your stomach fall away. She limped forward, picking up speed as she went.

    At the very edge, she leaped as the ground crumbled beneath her.

    Her body smashed against the rocky wall across, driving the air from her lungs. Down she tumbled into the abyss below.

    End over end.

    Crash after crash.

    Down and down she went once more.

    Leafy vines snapped and pulled free from the canyon wall as she desperately flailed. But it was no use and further into the void, she fell. Tumbling and bouncing in freefall against roots and rocks.

    Far above, the sky shrunk to a small pinprick of light. Fear dominated Autumn¡¯s mind as she still snatched after vine and root to no avail.

    Fate had other intentions for the wayward traveler than a swift death in the endless void. Autumn slammed down upon a thick root, her ribs creaking under the sudden impact. Fiercely, she clawed at the slick surface as pain flared up her side. Slipping off the side, her foot lurched to a halt as it caught upon a cluster of roots. With a sudden halt, she slammed once again against the rocky wall of the canyon beneath the twisting root easily the size of herself.

    ¡°Owww.¡±

    Autumn whimpered as she hung upside down.

    The heavy weight of her crumpled hat still sat upon her brow, seemingly unbothered by the fresh change in Autumn¡¯s orientation or the gravity that pulled upon her. Inside her chest, her heart beat wildly as it etched a rhythm of distress upon her battered and bruised ribs. The air had been driven from her lungs with the impact. Now she sucked down gulps as she struggled to catch her breath.

    All the while, she dangled upside down.

    From above, rocks and stones still clattered and tumbled into the canyon as the drumbeat of thousands of fae approached.

    With a quickness of thought and action, Autumn pulled herself closer to the twisting vines and roots, squeezed herself into a deep groove underneath. She ended up wedged tightly and securely, hidden from view from above. Just in time too, as the sound of the fae grew louder and louder, their echoing approach deafening within the split in the earth.

    Until it stopped.

    Now the only sounds she could hear were the pumping of her blood rushing through her ears as she desperately strained to hear the searching foes high above.

    Cramps began forming in her limbs as her body protested. The aches and pains her flight and fall had gained, finally announced themselves. It took every ounce, every scrap of willpower to hold in the groans of pain. Slowly, as the minutes ticked by, the adrenaline waned. Autumn¡¯s eyes drooped as she listened. Despite her best efforts, she couldn¡¯t hold on much longer and sleep captured her. There she slept, hanging by the ankle and wedged tight under root and rock.

    Dreamless was her sleep.

    Exhaustion fended off those pesky visages.

    When she next awoke, she didn¡¯t know how long she had slept. What she knew, however, was that her head was pounding and her body was stiff. Resting under the roots hadn¡¯t been comfortable in the slightest.

    Her clothes had fared little better than her body. The flight from the woods had torn the relatively threadbare fabrics. Now ragged tears spread all along her new shirt and pants. Her hat and coat had survived somewhat better, although it was hard to tell amongst the weathered look they already sported.

    A rattling hiss interrupted her examinations.

    Autumn slowly turned ever so slightly to the chilling sound. There, she spied a rattlesnake. Its long tongue flickered in her direction as it tasted her presence in the air, awakened as it was by her sudden movements.

    How long had Autumn rested with it nearby?

    Dull coppery scales glinted in the dim light. Above black eyes, a row of golden scales rested like eyebrows. Easily the width of her wrist and longer than Autumn was tall, it coiled up tightly in its hole like a taut spring.

    Autumn held as still as she could as she hung there.

    Through the pulse of fear and the rush of blood in her ears, Autumn didn¡¯t hear the stomp of the Wild Hunt above. If the snake was bold enough to hiss and threaten, then perhaps the fae had moved on to search for her elsewhere.

    While that was a relief, it still left her in mortal peril before the rattlesnake. A single swift strike could spell her doom.

    Hot sweat trickled along her face and stung her eyes as the standoff stretched into a tense silence only broken by the rattle of warning. It would be impossible for her to flee unscathed, as her cramped form was too close to the serpent. As soon as she moved, she¡¯d be struck numerous times.

    Carefully and slowly, Autumn grasped the hilt of her knife as she kept watch on the snake, eying for any sign of movement.

    The flicker of its tongue and rattle of the tail were her only replies.

    As her knife left the leather sheath, the snake struck like lightning, the movement too much for the taut creature.

    It slammed into Autumn with fangs that bit deep.

    With a cry, she crushed the beast against the tight confines and drove her iron blade deep within its skull, biting through tough scales. The beast died pinned to the hard-packed wall, twisting and squirming in place. Hurriedly, Autumn patted herself down in search of where the serpent had bitten. A heaving sigh of relief escaped her as she only found a pair of holes in the sleeves of her robes; the billowing material had caught the fangs and saved her from being envenomed.

    Her luck held out.

    ¡°Fucking hell.¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t know what to do with the dead snake before her. Retrieving her knife from its brains, she let it collapse. She didn¡¯t know how to skin or cook it, but it was food, something she was running low on.

    ¡°Fuck you, stupid snake fucker. I¡¯m gonna enjoy eating you.¡±

    Autumn cursed as she rolled the large creature up as best she could and tied it to her already heavy pack. Once done with that task, she leaned out from under the root that had sheltered her. Far above, the glint of moonlight shone down upon her. No fae could be seen or heard, as best as she could tell, at least. And so she crawled free to rest on top of the root this time.

    ¡°Thanks rooty.¡± Autumn patted the root that had hidden her. ¡°Don¡¯t take this the wrong way, but I hope I¡¯ll never see you again.¡±

    With that, she began the long arduous journey upwards, laden with the spoils of her travel and kill.

 Chapter Ten: Hard Road Ahead

    Arctic winds of a midnight breeze swept over rolling hills of swaying grain that spread out as far as the eye could see. It flowed over grazing fields where slumbering cattle dreamed. On and on the winds blew, flowing unhindered until it came upon a great rift in the earth. A yawning chasm to the abyss and from its hungering maw came a pale hand that clung to the grasses beyond.

    Autumn was birthed into the world, one wheezing breath after another.

    For what felt like hours, she had climbed, timidly testing each unstable handhold or root to the top. She pushed through the pains and weight upon her until ultimately; she was free. Over the edge she crawled, moving as far away from the canyon as she could.

    Shaking open leaden limbs, she collapsed into the grass and dirt. Her lungs burned within her aching chest as she panted. A laugh burbled up from within her. Forged of nervous panic and unbelieving terror. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she unleashed the maddened cry into the silent night.

    Her only witness was an unfamiliar night sky and the two moons hanging in the ebony.

    They were not the crooked moon of the Feywild with its twisting madness, but a more innocent, normal-looking pair. A white cratered moon sheltered a smaller blue one that was shyly peaking out from behind its brother. Untainted by light pollution, the stars shone brilliantly above, forming unknown constellations in the inky expanse above. A bright nebula of twisting red cosmic gasses filled the spaces between.

    It was beautiful.

    Autumn took her time just lying on the cool grass as she regained her wits and observed the alternative universe open to her.

    Her admiration of the heavens had to end. Like a zombie, Autumn staggered to her feet. Every single muscle felt torn and bruised. Her thighs burned, her arms shook, and her back twitched with a painful rhythm.

    Aching in pain, she took the time to scan her environment.

    Under the bright moonlight, vast fields of pastureland and swaying crops greeted her. Hills rolled softly on, with only small clusters of trees breaking up the skyline. From what she could see, these woods were normally sized, at least for earth. They were not the vast city block-sized creations of the Feywild.

    Autumn held onto the hope that they meant she was out of the maddening plane.

    Herds of hulking animals watched Autumn warily, frightened by the cackling witch, who had suddenly sprouted forth from the ground. Twice as large as any cow she had seen, the bovine-looking creatures sported four massive horns and four glinting eyes.

    Autumn avoided the large herds guarded by snorting bulls that distrustfully stared at the stranger.

    Indications of domestication lay over the hills and fields; stone troughs of water dotted the hills and wooden tags hung about the beast¡¯s necks. The strange symbols translated themselves to her. Each denoted a particular owner.

    A twinkle of faint light shone in the darkness far off in the distance; a candle beckoning her weary bones. She hoped it was just a candle or campfire and not a lantern lure of some horrible creature; it was the last thing she needed.

    As she stumbled her way forward, she didn¡¯t notice the burning eyes filled with an unspeakable madness that stared at her retreating form.

    The Fair Maiden watched as the young witch grew smaller and smaller.

    Red eyes blinked open beside her, one after the other until the entire forest glittered with malevolent twinkling lights.

    <hr>

    Under the soft pale moonlight, the sight of a young witch stumbling through farms and fields would give any who saw it pause. Up and down hills and valleys, the figure had marched, dogging clusters of angry bovine landmines.

    It was lucky for Autumn¡¯s dignity that no one was around to see her as a dirt road caught her unawares and she impacted it with her face. The calm rather tempted her to just sleep here and rest her weary bones, but with the giant cows about, she was not keen on being trampled upon or eaten by the giant wolves that might hunt such beasts.

    Regardless of the fact it had slapped her in the face, this sign of civilization encouraged Autumn.

    Picking herself up, she followed the dusty road towards the light that grew ever closer.

    Her lumbering pace brought her to a small rural village. Calling it a village was generous, as it only consisted of four medieval-looking homes built upon a crossroads. A rest stop for farmers on their way to a market. Well-kept herbal gardens sat in front of the homes and fires billowed within the walls, judging from the smoke that lazily escaped the tall chimneys into the brisk night air. One of the four homes was larger than the others. A single-story building dabbed in white sat facing the crossroads, the door at an angle. From the wall hung an old sign that had been painted with care many times over.

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Duskmoore Inn, it read.

    Outside the inn, in a dusty yard, several well-worn tables sat with spilled tankards resting upon their surface.

    Autumn¡¯s parched mouth stung at the sight. Her water had run out long ago.

    Within a window, the glow of the candlelight that had drawn this hungry moth still shone. From inside, the tantalizing smell of cooking meats wafted, causing her to salivate and her stomach to growl like a furious beast. Only a faint bustle of noise caught her ear in the dead of night; no one else seemed to stir within the hamlet.

    With twigs filling her messy hair, Autumn stumbled through the door and into the welcoming warmth of the awaiting inn.

    The air that greeted her was smokey with the sweet smell of incense and the lingering acrid pipe smoke of a lively evening. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the dim illumination cast by the low-burning candles set about the chamber. Thick cobblestone met her underfoot, worn smooth by footfalls and many spilled drinks. On the left-hand wall a stone fireplace cheerfully burned, warming her chilled skin, while an iron cauldron sat beside it, stained with the remains of a hearty dinner.

    Autumn was too late for the evening service.

    Sitting before the warm hearth was a massive fur rug of a creature Autumn had never seen before. Packed beside it were plentiful cushions. Glancing about, it seemed that these were the preferred seating, as the inn was devoid of chairs. The small dining room had several small low tables that were currently stacked to the sides of the room. Unclean plates and half-filled tankards of ale still lay scattered about, piled up and ready to be cleaned.

    Above the burning fireplace sat a stuffed and mounted boar that gazed down upon the room, its savage tusks gleaming in the firelight.

    To her right, as she entered, was a time-worn bar. Generations of spilled drinks had stained the wood. It separated the front dining from the back kitchens. Behind the bar were several shelves filled with drinks; wooden casks of ale and beer sat tantalizingly close, while glass bottles of wines and ciders reflected the dancing light of the fire.

    Timidly, Autumn approached the weathered bar and cast a look at the closed door, where sounds of movement emerged.

    Mounted upon the wall in pride of place as an enormous weapon that Autumn recognized as a polehammer; a type of two-handed Warhammer. An iron hammer head held a long-beaked hook upon its reverse. Each side was scratched from a lifetime of combat. The haft was made up of a bloody red hardwood, giving it a brutal aura. It was well-loved as it shone with lacquer in the firelight.

    Three loud knocks reverberated upon the bar-top. Autumn flinched as in her exhausted state, she had knocked with more force than she had intended.

    Immediately, the sounds that had been emerging from the back kitchen ceased before the sounds of loud footsteps approached.

    Autumn regretted her actions as she waited as she knew she looked like a mess; mud and sap had coated both her clothes and her already impossible-to-untangle tresses, which had also formed into a birdnest of epic proportions. To make matters even worse, she hadn¡¯t been able to shower or bathe in who knows how long.

    It would be a look for sure.

    As the owner of the footfalls and presumably the inn approached, Autumn shuffled in place. All too soon the backdoor opened with a slight creek and both occupants took in the sight of one another, blinking in surprise as they did so.

    What surprised Autumn was that the woman before her wasn¡¯t human. She didn¡¯t know why she had been expecting that, given her track record so far.

    A seven-foot-tall demonic woman greeted her eyes, full of red skin and pointed horns. The demoness wasn¡¯t just tall but packed with rippling muscle as well that gleamed with sweat in the dim candlelight; a warrior¡¯s build if Autumn had ever seen one.

    From her forehead grew a pair of horns that curved out and upwards, making her seem even taller. They were a deeper red than the rest of her skin, almost black. From between them ran a head of shiny black hair, shaved at the sides but left messy on top, and trailed behind her in a braid. Her face was lit by the candles and fire in sharp relief. Her eyes were fully golden, without even the hint of a pupil, and faintly glowing. They sat above cheekbones sharp enough to cut with; it gave her a rather severe look that complemented her long elf-like ears.

    A white top dusted with flour struggled to contain a set of mountainous breasts while a pair of tight red hide pants clung to herculean thighs larger than Autumn¡¯s waist. Over top sat a loose cooking apron sat marred with food stains.

    The Amazonian demoness eyed the gawking witch with trepidation and concern. It wasn¡¯t every day a disheveled witch stumbled into her inn in the middle of the night. Resting her calloused hands on her waist, she waited for the witch to speak.

    Autumn had never seen someone as large as this woman in all her life and had never seen a demoness aside from in art; she was a little lost. In all her excitement for civilization and the warmth of a meal, she had forgotten that she had little experience with conversation or talking to strangers, let alone an attractive demoness. So she just kinda stood there staring blankly up at the towering innkeeper as heat began creeping into her cheeks.

    Luckily, her embarrassment was short-lived as the demoness broke the silence.

    ¡°Welcome to the Duskmoore Inn. It¡¯s a bit late but I suppose I could cook something if you are hungry. Meals are twenty copper while a room is thirty. Hot water I¡¯ll throw in for free.¡±

    The demoness¡¯ voice was rather rough but held a warmth to it, yet the sudden sound still made Autumn jump. Fumbling, she reached into her robes for her money pouch filled with those odd coins. Autumn had no clue as to their value or conversion, so she placed her bronze and a single silver upon the counter.

    ¡°Umm¡­are these coins any good here?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s voice was dry and scratchy.

    The innkeeper picked up a bronze and examined it, turning it over to investigate the symbols on either side.

    ¡°No sorry. I¡¯m no money lender. I can only accept empire coinage.¡±

    The demoness apologized before sliding the coins back.

    ¡°You could probably get these exchanged in town.¡±

    Seeing the distraught look upon the disheveled witch¡¯s face, the demoness took pity on the girl and pointed to the bloody prize bound to the canvas pack.

    ¡°Tell you what, if you let me keep the skin off that Goldbrow, I¡¯ll cook you up something with it and let you have a room too. Oh, and the name¡¯s Nethlia. Friends call me Net.¡±

 Chapter Eleven: A Friendly Face

    It had taken more than a few silent moments for Autumn¡¯s tired mind to connect the name ¡°Goldbrow¡± with the serpent she had killed. She fumbled with the cords, tying it to her pack before she could free it and handed it over to the demoness Nethlia. Retrieving it, she turned it over and gave an impressed whistle, seeing the single strike to the skull that had ended it.

    ¡°Impressive.¡±

    Autumn blushed in embarrassment and pride as she showed off the holes in her sleeve.

    ¡°More like just lucky.¡± She rasped, ¡°Umm¡­my name¡¯s Autumn, by the way.¡±

    Nethlia blinked, surprised at Autumn¡¯s name.

    ¡°Huh, never heard of anyone named after one of the seasons before.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Autumn asked in slight disbelief.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Nethlia nodded as she examined the witch before her, ¡°it¡¯s kind of. What¡¯s the word, inauspicious? Domains of the gods, you know.¡±

    Autumn shrugged.

    ¡°That¡¯s what I was named.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough, I guess. You go grab a seat by the fire. I¡¯ll just be in the kitchen for a second. Feel free to grab an ale or something. It¡¯s on the house.¡±

    Turning swiftly, Nethlia returned to the kitchen whence she had come and as she did so a long demonic tail that tapered from thick to thin till a heart-shaped spade smoothly followed behind her swinging hips.

    Autumn tore her gaze away and massaged her brow.

    With a foaming pint in hand, Autumn gently made her way to the fireplace, now conscious of the mess she was leaving behind. The pillow was the softest of comforts to the beleaguered girl; she almost let out a moan of relief as the pressure left her battered feet.

    As the warmth of the fire and the ale engulfed her, she drifted off, her weary eyes unable to fight off her awaiting slumber. Worn from the travels and tribulations, she shielded her eyes beneath her hat for just a moment to rest. She must not have been sleeping long, as a soft clink of wood on wood interrupted her dreamless rest after maybe a handful of minutes.

    She awoke with a jolt.

    Her heart beat a frightened rhythm once more as she sought the sound. Before her was a steaming bowl of stew resting on a small table. Above her, the imposing form of Nethlia lingered, trying her best not to loom.

    An apologetic smile graced her lips.

    ¡°Sorry for the fright. Your meal is ready. It might not be the best, but I added a few bits I had on hand. I¡¯m not sure what humans eat, so.¡± Nethlia shrugged at the end.

    The snake she had killed had been quickly steamed and shredded before being mixed in with a bone broth and some assorted vegetables. To the side of the tray sat a dense piece of gray bread. With how hungry she felt, Autumn would have eaten anything placed before her.

    ¡°Please take your time. I¡¯ll go get your room ready. Call out if you need anything.¡± Nethlia said softly before heading off.

    Autumn was far too invested in devouring her meal to give more than a muffled response.

    It was deliciously mouth-watering and, paired with the spice of hunger, it was even better. The serpent was far gamier than she was used to, but the pleasure of eating something that tried to kill her was worth it. The bread, while a little odd-looking, didn¡¯t taste half bad, especially after soaking up the remaining broth. Before she knew it, she¡¯d scraped the bowl clean and what she left of the bread was only a few scant crumbs.

    Broken from her hunger-induced trance, Autumn noticed Nethlia had just returned. Upon seeing the witch finished with her meal, she gestured over to herself at the far end of the building opposite to the entrance. A hallway led off from the dining hall, housing a series of doors on either side.

    Wincing as she put pressure back on her aching feet, Autumn followed behind the tall demoness. She hobbled through the dimly lit hallway and into an open doorway where a small bedroom was located.

    ¡°Here¡¯s the key to your room for the night,¡± Nethlia said while holding out a dull brass key. ¡°I got some hot water in a small basin and a washcloth. No offense meant, but you look like you need it.¡±

    Autumn took the key from her outstretched hand, hardly minding the quip.

    ¡°Thank you for your help, even though I couldn¡¯t pay.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s no matter; we bartered and everything. Besides, my ma always told me to be courteous to strangers that appear randomly in the night. You don¡¯t know who they might be. Especially spooky witches, not that you¡¯re spooky or anything.¡±

    At Autumn¡¯s tired blank look, the demoness awkwardly retreated from the room while closing the door behind her.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    There wasn¡¯t much to say about the room she had found herself in, it was comfortable looking. A large single bed dominated the right-hand side, covered in heavy and warm-looking furs in the same deep red of the cows she had spied before. Beside the bed and below a shuttered window sat a bedside table, illuminated by the thinnest strands of moonlight. On top, a candle merrily flickered away, casting a glow that lit the room.

    Aside from that, there was only the promised washbasin that was steaming with hot water.

    The door locked with a satisfying click and Autumn undressed from her tattered and stained apparel. Mud-caked boots landed with a dull thud upon stone and blood-soaked socks and bandages too fell with a splat.

    While the healing cream had done its work, her rough travels had threatened to undo it all; the soles of her feet were raw and red.

    Autumn¡¯s hat found a spot securely upon the bedpost, and her dirty clothes went onto the floor.

    Gently, she wiped her battered and bruised nude body down, wiping away the rigors of her arduous journey. The bucket of water steadily grew darker and darker as blood, dirt, and grime was cleansed; colors mingled into patterns of gore and filth. Human once more, Autumn took the very last dregs of healing cream that remained and carefully covered her trauma; the numbing spread blissfully into every wound until only a bare ache remained.

    The spare underclothes became her nightwear, and she scurried under the warm furs like a joyous rat.

    Drowsily, she watched the candle flame dance and sway till sleep captured her.

    Perhaps it was too soon or maybe a long time coming, but before she knew it, a warm morning sun broke over the rolling hills and fields; it chased away the dreams and nightmares that plagued mortal minds.

    Sunny fingers of fiery light crept between the slats and into the bedroom. The hibernating creature of coiled hair and darkened sockets felt its grace fall upon her cheek, stirring her from her slumber. Autumn blinked in confusion, as she had almost forgotten what the sun felt like. All she had seen was the dark of the night and the horrors hidden within.

    The great ornery bear let out a groan of frustration still and buried herself deeper in the warm cave of soft furs she had created.

    Morning couldn¡¯t be denied forever and as it thawed her limbs, it also sought to bake her in her hidey-hole. The heavy scent of roasted meats and baked bread started wafting into the room. The delightful scents of the inn as it came alive were too much, and her yearning appetite overpowered Autumn¡¯s desire to sleep.

    From a fabric and fur cocoon, the witch emerged with a fair bit of reluctance. What spawned forth would have frightened all; upon Autumn¡¯s head was a bird¡¯s nest of tangled hair to a nightmarish degree. Luckily, no one was around to see as Autumn combed it as best she could with what fingers she had left. A futile effort to create a presentable appearance. Now entirely awake, she found herself mortified by the sheer amount of twigs she had sported yesterday.

    She could have made a small tree out of them.

    Her nightwear stuck unpleasantly to her skin with sweat, so she disrobed and sat naked on her bed, basking in the warm sun as it kissed her skin.

    She was sore all over; her entire body was a map of discolored bruises and the entire side of her body that had impacted the root was black and blue. Feeling along her tender side, she was glad to find nothing out of place or broken.

    Minor miracles.

    The paste she had applied last night had shifted the soles of her feet from an angry raw red to a tender pink; not entirely healed, but a great deal better.

    From her battered canvas bag, Autumn retrieved her remaining set of clean clothes. The discarded ones from yesterday still lay crumbled and dirty at the foot of the bed. Stains and tears from her panicked flight had thoroughly ruined them. Not even a needle and thread could save them.

    She doubted they would even survive a single wash with how threadbare they were.

    Autumn saluted the fallen.

    ¡°Ouch.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s arm had protested the movement.

    The blood-soaked bandages she had left to bathe in the basin were still a horror show. If she wanted them clean, she¡¯d have to boil them somehow, but she doubted she¡¯d even bother. Her feet had stopped bleeding at the very least.

    Blood and sweat had left her socks and boots an absolute mess and it had absorbed into the inside of the boots while the rocks and roots she had tripped upon had broken the leather. Currently, they sat at the far end of the room. The powerful stench had her reeling in disgust even from there.

    Hopefully, Nethlia had something like soap or lye to clean them.

    After struggling into her tattered clothes with minimal cursing, Autumn placed the heavy hat upon her unruly twilight mane. With bare feet she strode out of the bedroom, trying to display a level of confidence she didn¡¯t feel.

    Behind her, she locked her door. Not that she had much to steal, but it comforted her to do so.

    As a focal point of the local community, the inn was rather busy in the morning sun. Roughly a dozen demons and demonesses had gathered. Their skin color ranged widely from bright reds and oranges to dark purples and greens. Every one of them was tall, taller than her at least, but none came up to the height that Nethlia towered at. She looked like a titan amongst her people.

    From the kitchen came forth plate after plate of meats that glistened, and dark gray ales poured forth heavy barrels. As she watched, the hamlet¡¯s denizens ferried the food and drinks outside to share in a communal meal beneath the breaking sun.

    Lost in her observations, she didn¡¯t immediately notice when the demon folk first saw her standing there, but it soon became apparent as they all stared warily at her.

    Before Autumn could muster up the courage to address them, Nethlia came to her rescue.

    ¡°What are you lot staring at? You¡¯ll scare away my customer.¡± She barked at the loitering demons and demonesses.

    ¡°Nethlia, ain¡¯t that a witch?¡± One farmer questioned fearfully.

    ¡°All the more reason to stop staring, now get.¡±

    With a last nervous glance, the folk dispersed outside, leaving Autumn and Nethlia alone in the Inn¡¯s interior.

    ¡°Sorry about that. They mean no harm, just curious, that¡¯s all. We don¡¯t get many witches in these parts, humans either. If that¡¯s what you are, I don¡¯t mean to assume.¡± Nethlia apologized.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn coughed lightly before continuing, ¡°human, just human. Uh, you said something about a coin exchange yesterday. It¡¯s just that I have little to trade unless you have an alchemist about.¡±

    ¡°Around these parts? Not likely. You¡¯ll find one up in Duskfields. That¡¯s the local city to the north.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s face fell as a day hungry loomed before her.

 Chapter Twelve: One Hand Opens and Another Closes

    Upon seeing the uneasy look on Autumn¡¯s face, the demonic innkeeper extended an offer.

    ¡°Tell you what, old man Orzon has been moaning to me about making a delivery for a while now. I¡¯ll run a tab for you and when we get to the city, we can settle up there. How¡¯s that?¡±

    Autumn blinked in disbelief.

    ¡°You¡¯d do that? Why? What if I ran away? Not that I would, of course.¡±

    Nethlia smirked.

    ¡°No offense, but I¡¯ve dealt with debt-dodges larger than you.¡±

    Autumn ducked her head in embarrassment as the demoness chuckled.

    ¡°Just sit where you like. I¡¯ll get some breakfast for us.¡±

    In but a few moments, Autumn was nestled upon a cushion once again. Nethlia placed a plate of food before her as she sat down with a plate twice as full for herself.

    ¡°Like I said before, I don¡¯t know what humans eat, so if any of this is bad for you, just let me know. Anyway, I¡¯ve made some dusk-wheat sticky buns stuffed with tender Longhorn Agoroth meat and Cramoisifruit.¡±

    Each of the fragrant buns was the size of a fist and packed with filling. Autumn was put off by the gray coloration, but she had eaten the bread the night before and it had been no worse than Earth¡¯s versions. As Autumn hesitantly bit into the sticky bun, it engulfed her taste buds with the wonderful flavor of spiced meats coated in a tangy fruit sauce. In a second, her plate was devoid of buns and her stomach filled to bursting.

    Once her hungry delirium broke, she noticed Nethlia was giving her a happy and indulged smile.

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Nethlia laughed enthusiastically.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be. Any cook would take that as a compliment.¡±

    Autumn ducked her head a moment in reply before speaking again.

    ¡°Uh, to answer your question before, humans are omnivorous. As in, we can eat both meat and vegetables.¡±

    ¡°I know the word. We Inferni are predominantly carnivores, but we can stomach some grains and plants, just in case you didn¡¯t know.¡±

    Nethlia gave the wandering witch a curious look.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind me saying so you have a good grasp of Infernal, I can¡¯t even hear an accent.¡±

    Autumn jumped in her seat. She had forgotten in all her exhaustion about the fact she could perfectly understand any language. She had been speaking in what should have been an unknown language instinctively.

    ¡°It¡¯s, umm, just a magic spell I learned.¡±

    Autumn flushed beneath her hat.

    ¡°Handy.¡±

    Autumn stared down at her bare toes. Now fully sated, it reminded her of her most pressing concern, but even more embarrassed because of it. Already the demoness beside her had extended her hand in charity. Even with the promise to pay her back later, it would be even more mortifying to ask for help.

    But what other choice did she have?

    ¡°Um¡­excuse me, Net.¡± Autumn timidly ventured as the demoness finished eating.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t have any spare soap lying about? My boots are a mess, as you can tell.¡±

    She gestured at her unclad feet.

    Nethlia gave a soft smile that revealed sharp teeth.

    ¡°Sure, just let me grab my stuff, too. There is a creek nearby, and it¡¯d be a waste to go alone.¡±

    The friendly innkeeper had anticipated Autumn¡¯s request. Not surprising given the state Autumn had been in when she arrived at this little community. Under one arm, she grabbed a wicker basket laden with a washboard and her dirty clothes.

    The pair stopped at Autumn¡¯s room first to gather up her pile of disheveled clothes and empty the washbasin. Nethlia raised a questioning eyebrow at the bloody bandages, but didn¡¯t comment further. She did, however, insist on carrying Autumn¡¯s burden with her own; something she was glad for as her body still ached something fierce.

    They spent the trek out to the creek in quiet contemplation. Autumn gazed curiously at the pastures and its livestock now that it was light enough to see properly.

    They seemed even larger as they grazed languidly.

    A small laugh startled Autumn. She glared slightly at the source.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Nethlia apologized to the blushing witch, ¡°those gals are the gentlest creatures, so it was kinda funny to see someone stare at them so.¡±

    Autumn turned back to the giant horned beasts in disbelief.

    Cresting the next hill over the creek came into view. It carved a somnolent path through the hills, forming a valley of rocky banks and billowing trees that shaded its waters. Dipping her toes in the cool waters, Autumn sighed in relief. It was there, under the cool shade, they set about soaking their dirty things. Autumn would readily admit she was rather pathetic at it.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    She was a modern girl unused to the older ways.

    Under Nethlia¡¯s example and guidance, she used the washboard and soap made of animal fat and ash to free the dirt and blood, sending it swirling away in the slow currents of the creek.

    Downstream eels gathered, following the taint of blood in the water. They knotted together, writhing over one another like a great tangled beard.

    A drop of blood leaked from Autumn¡¯s nose into the waters below.

    ¡°So what brings you around these parts?¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s voice broke Autumn from her trance. Starting slightly at the demoness¡¯ voice, Autumn chewed upon her lip as she contemplated how much to reveal; she had no idea how this world viewed someone from another world. Already she was in some trouble in being both a human and a witch in a region that didn¡¯t seem to see much of them.

    ¡°I¡¯m lost. One moment I was at home, then ¡®poof¡¯ I¡¯m in that spooky pine forest to the south. I don¡¯t know what happened. Maybe a spell went wrong or something.¡±

    ¡°Pine forest?¡±

    Nethlia arched an eyebrow upwards quizzically. Autumn turned to stare at the demoness beside her.

    ¡°Yeah, the one with enormous pine trees. The one on the other side of the yawning canyon.¡±

    Surely a local would know about a forest housing gigantic trees that were teeming with fae. not to mention that abyssal canyon in front of it.

    Kinda hard to miss.

    ¡°Uh, there isn¡¯t any forest to the south, nor any canyon. It¡¯s just hills and fields to the sea. I¡¯d know if there was. I grew up here, after all. That kinda thing would be far too dangerous for the livestock.¡±

    Nethlia spoke slowly, in concern.

    Autumn gazed back with incomprehension in her eyes, her washing forgotten for a moment. Snapping out of her trance, she returned to cleaning as she was eager to see if the forest was still there. After all, it was the way she had come, and she hoped there was a way back hidden within.

    With the worst of the stains removed, Autumn bundled them back into the basket and set off for the largest hill around.

    Upon the apex, the witch stood and scanned the southern horizon. As far as the eye could see was just rolling hills of wheat and livestock till it ended in a twinkling jewel of green in the distance.

    ¡°Emerald Bay; so called because of the weird coloration of the waters. These are the pasturelands of the Duskpoint Barony, the northern tip of the Echea Empire. Farmers have cleared all the forests long ago aside from those on the northern coastline, but I don¡¯t think any of those are pines.¡± Nethlia said.

    Autumn gazed out over the land. A tear rolled down Autumn¡¯s cheek unbidden as she cast her forlorn gaze to the pure blue sky above. Woods weren¡¯t supposed to disappear. The fae had the last laugh. They had denied her an easy way home if one had existed, anyway. So she was stuck here, at least for a while.

    Nethlia politely ignored her tears as she dried them on her sleeve.

    Autumn¡¯s mind spun with conjectures and chaotic thoughts; the fae forest was gone, or perhaps it never existed here, or maybe just not yet?

    It was all just so confusing.

    What she knew was that she was at least two dimensions away from home, maybe three. But did that even matter? At the very least, her socks were clean and her boots washed. After all, things could be worse.

    She decided to find something to do to take her mind off her predicament.

    Something to occupy her hands.

    Speaking of hands, Autumn cast her eyes down upon the savaged fingers of her right. With two fingers missing, it was hard to clutch anything. Frequently she was trying to use that which wasn¡¯t there. No balm would fix that, but maybe she could fashion something that could; some sort of prosthetic that could grant her greater functionality.

    Grazing nearby were the cattle, their longhorns glinting white under the sun. In the past, she had once tried her hand at whittling and she had completed her mandatory high school shop class.

    Maybe the villagers had some spare parts lying around?

    They look sturdy enough and she only needed two fingers worth and maybe some leather.

    Coughing lightly to gain her companion¡¯s attention, Autumn nervously broached the topic.

    ¡°Uhh, Net, do you know anyone who might have some spare horns and leather they might part with?¡±

    ¡°Horns? From the Longhorn Agoroth? Hmm, let me think.¡±

    Nethlia hummed as her glowing eyes squinted in thought. A calloused hand stroked a solid chin beneath pinched lips.

    ¡°We regularly sell everything to Duskfields but old man Ozron, I told you about him earlier, might have some scraps left over. Oh, he¡¯s the local blacksmith. Old as a pair of boots, he¡¯s been here since I was just knee high.¡± Nethlia rattled off.

    ¡°Why? What were you thinking of? They won¡¯t sell very well in trade, the merchants only take in bulk.¡±

    Autumn held up her right hand, the missing fingers on a grim display.

    ¡°Fixing this was it, really. Make some prosthetic fingers or something. I¡¯ll probably need some leather, wire, nails, and screws, that sort of thing.¡±

    Autumn mumbled as she planned things out in her head.

    ¡°That¡¯ll be Orzon alright. I¡¯ll introduce you just so he doesn¡¯t grump too much; people around here are distrustful of strangers and they might get frightened if they see you. Not that you¡¯re all that frightening, just a bit spooky¡­um, I need to stop talking.¡± Nethlia rambled.

    Not that the witch was even listening as she had lost herself in her mind.

    Nethlia guided Autumn to the old home directly across from her inn. Like the rest of the village was rather weather-worn, with an old patched roof that looked twice-broken and a door that hung awkwardly in the frame. However, they didn¡¯t enter the building, instead detouring around the side to a small workshop around the back.

    There stood a blacksmithy stained in soot and smoke. Crates of discarded pieces and off-cuts littered the yard behind the home. A dull ring of a hammer striking metal sounded off in a methodical rhythm.

    A song of creation.

    From within the blazing forge, an old man worked obscured by smoke and heat.

    Reaching out, Nethlia pounded heavily upon a pillar beside her, causing it to creak and shake, sending a down-pouring of soot upon the elderly man inside.

    ¡°OZRON!¡± Nethlia bellowed.

    ¡°Keep ye horns on yah big oaf, you¡¯ll bring me house down!¡± Orzon the blacksmith, bellowed back as he paused in his hammering.

    Emerging from the smoke and falling soot was an ancient demon. Back hunched with unfathomable age and a face lined more than the back of a tree. One pale horn had broken halfway, giving the smith a lopsided appearance. While visually incredibly old, he still possessed a wiry, robust frame beneath soot-coat clothes and a thick red leather apron. One thick hand clutched onto a heavy iron hammer while the other held a set of tongs that was clamped around a piece of metal that blazed with heat. Even on the other side of the yard, she could still feel the heat radiating.

    With a grunt, Orzon plunged the red-hot metal into a barrel of water. The quenching metal sent a billowing cloud of steam spraying into the air and the sizzling sound of rapidly cooling metal.

    With squinted eyes a burning red, he gazed at Autumn and her hat suspiciously before rounding on Nethlia.

    ¡°Why have you darkened my door? Didn¡¯t your mother warn you about cavorting with witches?¡±

    The blacksmith demon¡¯s voice was like the slow rumble of grinding rocks.

    Autumn¡¯s brow furrowed in annoyance. It wasn¡¯t like she had much of a choice.

    Seeing her look, Orzon grunted.

    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t get your hat in a bunch.¡±

 Chapter Thirteen: Grumbles of an Old Man

    Before an argument could erupt between the two, Nethlia stepped in, blocking the grumpy old man from Autumn¡¯s view.

    ¡°Be quiet, you grumpy old man.¡±

    Nethlia admonished before turning to mock-whisper to Autumn.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind him. He¡¯s like that with everyone.¡±

    Orzon threw a masterful stink eye at the towering demoness. Nethlia turned back to speak to the blacksmith demon.

    ¡°Autumn here was looking for some of that junk you have laying about.¡±

    ¡°Junk?! This ain¡¯t junk, you knucklehead.¡± Orzon shouted in offense.

    ¡°You aren¡¯t using it. I remember that pile of scrap being there since I was little. She only needs a few things.¡±

    Orzon grumbled inaudibly under his breath before turning his wizened face towards Autumn.

    ¡°Well? Whatcha want then?¡±

    Under his steely gaze, Autumn cleared her suddenly parched throat.

    ¡°I just need about two fingers¡¯ worth of Agoroth horn, some strips of leather, a couple of nails and screws, and a few lengths of thin wire.¡±

    Orzon grunted before gesturing over at the pile of crates.

    ¡°Find whatcha like from the scraps.¡±

    Before she turned away, a sudden idea occurred to her; back in the Feywild that iron horseshoe had saved her life, and she regretted leaving it behind.

    ¡°Um, also, do you have any cold-iron and can you work it?¡±

    The demon who had initially dismissed her turned back with a curious look in his eye.

    ¡°Cold-iron, eh?¡±

    Wrinkles deepened further as he raised a hairy eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s iron forged without the use of a flame.¡±

    While she didn¡¯t know whether the iron she had used before had been cold-iron, it was a safe bet. Stories from Earth had claimed that the metal was antithetical to a fae¡¯s nature and another source of protection couldn¡¯t hurt.

    ¡°I know what it is yer daft lass!¡±

    The old demon growled in genuine offense, unlike his playfulness before.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need some whip of a girl telling me how to do my craft. I don¡¯t go around telling you how to cast spells, do I?¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± Autumn apologized, although she was losing her temper with the elder demon.

    ¡°I was wondering what you needed it for,¡± Orzon grumbled at her.

    ¡°There is a certain type of creature I wanted protection from; they¡¯re weak to iron, cold-iron to be specific. If it is in a horseshoe, that¡¯d be fine, well a palm-sized one should work; just to act as a ward.¡±

    Orzon, the blacksmith, rubbed his stubbled chin in thought.

    ¡°I can pay. Well, once I get to the city, I¡¯ll get some coins exchanged.¡± Autumn offered, but the old man waved her off.

    ¡°Eh, don¡¯t worry about it; I¡¯ll just take it in drinks on my tab.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡± Nethlia half-heartedly complained.

    ¡°I have some iron ore left over from a job, just enough to work. Now buzz off and do yah work.¡±

    With a final parting wave of annoyance towards them, the ancient hunched demon shuffled off to his still blazing forge unbothered by the immense heat. From within the haze, all they could hear was his grumbling and the shifting of ore and rock.

    Nethlia just shrugged apologetically.

    ¡°If you¡¯re all settled in, I need to get back to my tavern,¡± Nethlia glanced at the position of the bright sun. ¡°Get prepared for lunch, ya know? Feel free to come over once you¡¯re done.¡±

    With a wave, the demoness left with a basket of drying clothes under her arm.

    Autumn absentmindedly noted her departure as she rummaged through the boxes upon boxes of overflowing scrap; various materials from years of offcuts and excess materials lay within, ripe for picking.

    It didn¡¯t take her all that much time to gather her desired materials.

    From the piles, Autumn had found a few cut-down sections of bone-white colored horn that measured up roughly to the fingers on her left hand. Slowly, she used her iron knife to whittle them down to the right shape and size. Now that the horn looked like actual fingers, she marked out the joints. With a toothed small saw, she carefully separated the pieces.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Autumn borrowed a pair of tongs from the forge along with a thin nail that was made of bronze that had been discarded to the side. Into the flames the pair went until the nail glowed brightly and with meticulous care she bore a hole through the horn, tapping cautiously with a heavy hammer.

    Sweat trickled down her brow and spine as the forge¡¯s hotness suffused her.

    Unbeknown to the sweaty witch, she was being monitored by the blacksmith, Orzon. The elder demon watched with interest and fondness, twinkling in his eye as she crafted.

    Autumn swore under her breath as she broke the nail as she attempted to twist it into a simple screw. Another bent beneath her forceful ministrations.

    ¡°You¡¯re putting too much force into it, girly.¡± Orzon pointed out as he approached.

    Autumn glanced in his direction in annoyance and frustration.

    ¡°Here, you twist it like this.¡±

    The elder demon blacksmith plucked an iron nail from within his apron and held it to the flames, the licks of infernal heat hardly bothering the smith. With care and patience, he taught the young girl his expertise. With a hiss of steam, the screw was quenched. Autumn placed the fingertips or distal phalanges into a wooden clamp before gingerly twisting the screws into them. Once they were firmly in place, Autumn turned her attention to connecting the pieces.

    It wasn¡¯t a complicated design; she was just going to feed a bit of wire through the holes she¡¯d bore and weld it to a thumb ring. Thus, when she pulled her thumb forward, it¡¯d pull the fingers closed.

    Or so she hoped.

    From the pile of scrap, she had salvaged a few thin iron wires.

    ¡°Here.¡±

    Orzon placed a wire extruder on Autumn¡¯s workbench; a pair of heavy blocks of metal with a series of holes of differing gauges. As Autumn pulled the wire through, it grew smaller and smaller. Orzon watched with interest as Autumn threaded the now thinner wire through the remaining carved pieces that represented the middle (medial) and lower (proximal) bones. Dexterously, the wire was threaded around the screw¡¯s head and welded on with a hot poker. With a pull of the wire, the finger-bones clicked together.

    ¡°Do you have any rings about? I need one to fit my thumb?¡± Autumn asked the hovering blacksmith.

    Orzon eyed Autumn¡¯s thumb, judging the size. From his pocket, he withdrew a worn iron ring; the jewelry looked beat up and scratched but had been polished with meticulous care.

    The old demon looked at the ring with a melancholic gaze before gruffly handing it over.

    ¡°Here, it should fit fine.¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Autumn asked. She hadn¡¯t missed that look.

    ¡°I am. It¡¯ll be of more use to you than just sitting in my pocket. Besides, it¡¯s just a hunk of metal now that it doesn¡¯t fit.¡±

    The demon rubbed at his heavily calloused fingers.

    Autumn placed the ring on her thumb. It fit just fine. Taking the other end of the wire, she tested the range of movement before cutting and welding it to the ring.

    The last step of her design involved stitching together a harness for the fingers and a way to secure it to her hand. She had expected its construction would take a fair while, what with her missing fingers, but with the help of the grumpy demon smith, it ended up not taking as long.

    In the end, they created a sort of half glove that would sit over the stumps of her fingers and then wrap around the back of her hand and across her palm till her thumb where they had cut a hole. To properly secure it, her wrist and behind her thumb passed a leather cord through two holes.

    Autumn admired Orzon¡¯s and her work as she flexed her thumb. The pull of the wire caused the fingers to clench and unclench and by swiftly wrapping her thumb over them, she could form a fist.

    Not that she¡¯d risk hitting anything or anyone with it, but it would allow her to hold things again, at least.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Autumn addressed Orzon beside her, ¡°for helping me, I mean.¡±

    Orzon huffed before turning away in embarrassment.

    ¡°It was painful seeing you try to forge is all. Don¡¯t think too hard about it.¡±

    A shy smile played upon Autumn¡¯s lips as she beheld the broad back of the grandfatherly demon.

    ¡°Okay,¡± was all Autumn said.

    Far above their heads, the blazing sun beat a noontime heat.

    Glancing about, Autumn realized Nethlia had taken both of their wet clothes with her. She felt mildly embarrassed that she had forgotten to hang them up before her project absorbed her mind. At the very least, she could have warmed them in front of the forge.

    Although Orzon might have objected to that.

    Speaking of the old man, he had retreated to his cluttered workspace where a small palm-sized horseshoe sat. As Autumn watched, the elder demon wrapped a thin cord of red leather around the curve.

    ¡°Here, it didn¡¯t take me all that long.¡±

    Orzon held out the cold-iron horseshoe to Autumn. As she felt the cold weight in her palm, she glanced down at it and noticed a few exquisite engravings, including an odd infernal mark she could read thanks to her gifts. It was simply the smith¡¯s name.

    ¡°Oh, sorry about that. It¡¯s my smith¡¯s mark. I do it so much it¡¯s second nature.¡±

    Autumn quirked a smile at the smith.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, I like it.¡±

    Autumn looped the charm around her neck and tucked it under her shirt.

    It wasn¡¯t a repellant that¡¯d keep the nightmares at bay, but she hoped it¡¯d at least give them pause long enough to matter.

    A clamorous rumble broke into the soft silence of the workshop as Autumn¡¯s stomach announced her appetite to the world. Embarrassed, Autumn clung to it as the demon in front of her let out a resounding chuckle.

    ¡°Seems like you could use some food in ya. Crafting makes one hungry.¡±

    ¡°Are you coming?¡± Autumn asked.

    Orzon hesitated a moment in contemplation before shaking his head.

    ¡°Nah, you young folk don¡¯t want an old fogey hanging about. I¡¯m gonna finish up before catching up on a noon nap. Go on with you.¡±

    With a nod in farewell, Autumn turned and journeyed away from the elderly demon¡¯s abode, fiddling all the while with her new prosthetic.

    Following her nose as much as her feet, Autumn found herself before the Duskmoore once again. This time a sight more put together, beside the shoes, of course. As she entered, an atmosphere of warm joviality blasted her in the face. Cheerful conversation and chatter filled the inn. Groups of farmers sat upon cushions and pillows around low tables teeming with cooked meat and breads.

    From what she had seen so far, the people of this community seemed to favor a rather more communal style of dining over the more solitary one that a modern earth favored.

    She was a city girl that hadn¡¯t traveled all that much.

    Autumn¡¯s stomach emphatically complained once again at her inaction, drawing the attention of the bustling inn. She hustled across to the front bar whilst hiding her warm cheeks beneath the shade her hat brim provided. Within the kitchen saw the wondrous sight of a rotating spit of glistening meat, the juices dripping down the charred exterior of the massive leg. The smell had her salivating already.

    Like a hungry puppy, she watched with wide eyes as Nethlia carved off lengths of the juicy meat onto a plate alongside a heaping of diced bright purple fruits practically swimming in a rich gravy.

    After thanking Nethlia and momentarily showing off her project, Autumn retreated outside to enjoy her tantalizing meal in peace.

 Chapter Fourteen: Sensing Emotions

    Outside the inn a pleasant breeze flowed, drifting languidly over the hills and fields. It flowed across the drying clothes on the line, sending them swaying and dancing.

    Autumn watched all this as she enjoyed her mouthwatering lunch in the sunny environment. The succulent meats and crisp fruits blended in an aromatic delight. All washed down with a cup of cider fermented from the Cramoisifruits she¡¯d been introduced to. As she sipped the cider with her plate devoid of food, Autumn retrieved her witch¡¯s tome from her belt where it was strapped.

    She still felt a little guilty about taking advantage of Nethlia¡¯s hospitality despite the promise of reparation when her coinage was evaluated and exchanged. In a moment of introspection and reflection, she had sought a method within her tome that she could use to render aid to this quaint little community.

    Autumn didn¡¯t have many skills that she could fall back on, especially in a strange and medieval-looking world, nor did she feel she was very good at conversing with strangers. But they might be more open to dealing with her if she had something they might want; if not for her lack of materials, the healing balm would work wonders to fulfill that role.

    Plus, she was excited about doing something appropriately magical and witchy.

    Briefly flicking through the yellowed pages of the leather-bound book, she found three entries near the front that both intrigued her and seemed reasonably within her capabilities.

    Collecting emotions.

    Aura Imbuement.

    Repair charm.

    Each page promised to enhance her abilities and provide a solution to her immediate problem. Settling down upon the comfortable cushion of the breeze-blown grass, Autumn read.

    Collecting emotions.

    Now that you have established a hold over magic and drawn out the power nestled within your emotional coils, it is time to turn our (your) attention outwards; to other people and their collections of emotions and desires.

    Yes, I know, dealing with other people can be a torment and task all on its own, but if you don¡¯t, you¡¯ll forever limit yourself and the magicka you can wield. Why? It is simple, there is only so much emotion that can be harvested. Or else you¡¯ll be hollowed out, as I wrote earlier.

    Now, unlike harvesting your own emotions, taking from others is rather different for reasons I won¡¯t get into here. All you need to know is that it is.

    There are two fundamental ways to collect emotions, actively and passively. Both have positives and negatives to their usage, but first, you need to know how to sense emotions if you want to draw them out. Sensing emotions is a vital and natural part of a witch¡¯s craft. You¡¯ll inevitably sense them on your own over time, but I¡¯ll help speed it up.

    Find yourself a nice, quiet place not too far from other people. Once there, try to block out as much stimulus as possible and focus on your emotions. After that, spread outwards, feel for the turbulence of the weave; feel for the resonance that emotions leave.

    Go on and try it out now before you continue.

    Closing her eyes, Autumn focused. She focused upon the crisp clean air as it filled her lungs, upon the chattering calls of the swooping birds and the resounding bellows of the cows. She allowed herself to relax.

    Haltingly, her mind opened.

    With attentive care, she parsed through her feelings nestled within her chest; the familiar anxiety clawed at her heart and a haunting loneliness ravaged her with guilt. Screwing her eyes tight, Autumn pushed past them and began looking outwards.

    The soft breeze tickled her skin as she explored the weave of magic that hung diffuse in the space before her.

    Telling the emotions of others had never been her strong suit. Often she¡¯d misread people or overdo things. Yet she¡¯d been surprisingly at ease around Nethlia and Orzon both. If she had been subconsciously developing some sort of empathic cognizance, it would explain a lot.

    Focus, Autumn told herself.

    The sun high in the ever-blue clear sky shone down a warming radiance that drove away the lingering memory of the chilled waters and the haunted dead¡¯s touch.

    Colors bloomed behind Autumn¡¯s eyes. At first, she simply thought her eyes were playing tricks upon her or that something had gotten in her eye, but no, it wasn¡¯t that at all. Splashes of purest color enveloped her canvas of the mind. Each was one of her colors, blue of sadness, yellow of joy, the red fires of anger, and the familiar deep rich purple of harrowing fear.

    She supposed it made some sense; the mysteries of Magicka would have to conform in some way and why not wrap themselves about her artistically inclined mind?

    She related magic to art, after all.

    Autumn forced her wandering imagination to focus once again. Pairing away her own palette from that canvas, she started seeing faint swirls of color dotted far away; likely in the tavern''s direction if she were to open her eyes.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    In the center of her mind¡¯s eye, a larger swirl of vibrant color grew closer and closer. So many emotions washed over her mind that they almost made up a world of their own. There within sat sadness so deep that no well could ever hope to reach the bottom and tamed anger that burned so hot it could set the world aflame. Opening her eyes in fright, the pure blazing orange of Nethlia met Autumn.

    For a dazzling moment of frozen time, the sight of a world of soul-bared emotions overlaid the towering demoness. It lay like the grandest of intimate paintings; no clothes nor masquerade could hide it from the young witch.

    Then it was gone.

    Autumn felt like weeping as the visage fled; Nethlia¡¯s emotional core made Autumn¡¯s feel like a child¡¯s scrawl in comparison. One day she hoped to paint something as beautiful. Perhaps she could, now that she could see that most vibrant, hidden world.

    Turning her drifting attention back to her approaching companion, Autumn attempted to bring back a small sliver of that kaleidoscope: amusement, curiosity, and a pang of fear.

    It wasn¡¯t surprising, but it still stung.

    She was a witch now. She¡¯d have to get used to it.

    Sweat glistened upon the ruby-red skin of the demoness as she pushed her slick hair back and out of her eyes. The sweet smell of roasted meat clung to her as she sat down beside Autumn, the impact shaking the ground.

    ¡°So tired~ How¡¯d it go with Orzon? I saw your hand briefly, but I didn¡¯t get a good look.¡±

    Nethlia huffed as she reclined, the sun sparkling across her form.

    Autumn tore her gaze away from the gold and purples in the air and allowed her power to fade. It wasn¡¯t fair of her and she didn¡¯t want to know.

    With her Tome of Witchcraft held up as a shield, she answered.

    ¡°Just some light reading. Looking to see if there is anything I can do to help around with my spooky, scary witch magic.¡±

    A crooked grin slipped onto her lips as she watched the statuesque demoness tense for a moment, a shiver of fright running through her form before fading.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to help out. We¡¯re friendly people. Good hospitality is just what we do. I trust you¡¯ll keep to your word.¡±

    Autumn shrugged.

    ¡°I just want to, that¡¯s all. Plus, maybe I can earn some money once I make it to town.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Also, I don¡¯t think you¡¯re scary.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you think I¡¯m spooky, then?¡±

    Nethlia gave a cheeky smile.

    ¡°Hey, nothing wrong with being a little spooky.¡±

    ¡°Only a little? I¡¯ll have to step up my game,¡± Autumn joked quietly.

    The bark of laughter that escaped the lounging demoness stoked a warmth in her chest. A shy smile crested Autumn¡¯s face as the world seemed a little brighter in that moment of relaxation.

    Turning back to the book in her lap, she continued where she had left off.

    Now that you can sense emotions (don¡¯t fret if you can¡¯t, just keep practicing till you can), it¡¯s time to move on.

    Firstly, we¡¯ll look at passive acquisition.

    Generally, most people will radiate a sort of miasma of emotion that¡¯ll just bleed off into the atmospheric weave of magic. A savvy witch should take advantage of this by drawing in as much as they can. Within any large population center, this will be all the easier and nobody will be able to tell. On the downside, it won¡¯t gain you as much as if you are directly harvested from the source, which leads us into active acquisition.

    Taking any sort of emotion from others is paradoxically harder and easier than just absorbing what leeches off. For starters, it will require targeting an individual who is feeling an abundance of whatever particular emotion you seek; you can imagine how hard that might be for a witch who collects anger. Secondly, sometimes the people you deal with may have something of a buyer¡¯s remorse afterward (especially for positive emotions) and can be difficult to deal with.

    Take care when the torches and pitchforks are being handed out.

    As a final note, I have found in my long years of experience that it is always better to gain consent before harvesting emotions. It is possible to steal emotions but I strongly advise against that, you¡¯ll become lesser than you were beforehand. Plus, it always draws in those pesky adventures who go on about ¡°evil¡± and ¡°vampiric corruption¡± blah.

    The next few lines Autumn skimmed over all amounted to various warnings and complaints about adventurers and their ilk. Autumn let out an amused snort at the tirade.

    ¡°Is it a particularly amusing book?¡± Nethlia asked as she cracked an eye open at the cute noise.

    ¡°A little. The previous owner didn¡¯t seem to like adventurers much. Calls them ¡®meddlesome vagabonds who wouldn¡¯t know excellent tea if it came alive and smacked them in the rear.¡¯¡±

    Nethlia huffed. ¡°Rude.¡±

    Autumn arched an eyebrow curiously at the demoness, asking a silent question to which Nethlia obliged.

    ¡°I was an adventurer for about ten years, give or take. Not to brag, but I was quite good at it too, made a name for myself and a pile of coins to boot. My ol¡¯ Warhammer and I worked our way through a fair number of monsters and bandits.¡±

    Nethlia sighed wistfully.

    ¡°Was? Did you retire or something? It wasn¡¯t an arrow in the knee, right?¡± Autumn asked, as straight-faced as she could.

    ¡°Huh? Oh, nothing like that. It¡¯d take more than an arrow to force me out. No, my mother passed away is all. Some sickness did her in, I never found out what. It was an enormous shock to the community here. She was only in her mid-200¡¯s.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s mind spluttered as she took in that particular detail.

    ¡°Anyway, someone had to take over the tavern. None of the other villagers knew how to cook. Hah, old man Orzon burns water, get it? Cause he¡¯s a blacksmith?¡± Nethlia joked.

    The humor fell on deaf eyes as Autumn¡¯s head hung low as she wrestled with the rising panic attack inside. Stricken with dread, her throat clenched tightly and painfully. It wasn¡¯t until she grasped onto her fear, wrenched it free, and secreted it away within her hat, she could calm.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. To hear that, that is. I¡­I¡­lost someone close to me, too.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s mind rebelled at the thought of letting go, the thought of opening up.

    ¡°It¡¯s ok,¡± Nethlia said as she raised her head to meet Autumn¡¯s black eyes with her orange. ¡°It took me a while to open up. You take your time too, ok?¡±

    Their gaze remained locked together in a tight bond for a long silent moment as unspoken words passed between them. Autumn was the first to break the bind, wrenching her gaze away to let her long twilight mane and shadow hat cover her brightening cheeks.

 Chapter Fifteen: In the Dark of the Night

    Nethlia let out an awkward cough before asking, ¡°Uh, so how does your magic work exactly? I¡¯ve been around a few different casters but never a witch and their magic all works far differently from one another.¡±

    Autumn took to the diversion gladly.

    ¡°Witch magic uses emotions to cast.¡±

    ¡°Huh, that¡¯s cool?¡± Nethlia mussed. ¡°Do any work or it is like specific types and such.¡±

    ¡°Any, but some work better for some things than others. The book here says it¡¯s best to align oneself with a set emotion.¡±

    ¡°Cool, cool. So what kind of emotion do you use?¡±

    Autumn chewed on her cheek in thought as she debated replying.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright if you don¡¯t answer. Just tell me if I¡¯m overstepping or anything, it¡¯s just kinda boring out here.¡± Nethlia reassured her.

    ¡°It¡¯s fear; I use fear.¡±

    Nethlia blinked up at Autumn, from where she had once again reclined. A myriad of emotions flickered behind those bright orange eyes.

    Nethlia chuckled.

    ¡°Woah, pretty hardcore. Not gonna lie, I wasn¡¯t expecting that.¡±

    Autumn smiled as the candle of warmth inside grew ever larger.

    The rest of the day passed her by with a quickness. After reading her old dusty Tome, she spent her evening helping Nethlia out around the inn despite the other¡¯s repeated insistence she didn¡¯t need to. So, with a belly full of good food, her head found the blissful comfort of a pillow and the warmth of furs.

    But all was not well.

    In the dead of the night, with only the two moons above as witness, many red eyes crept and crawled. Shadows slunk amongst tall grasses in a purse of the foulest deeds; into the slumbering homes, they broke secretly in search of an elusive prey.

    Into the inn, these red eyes wandered too.

    Silent as a grave, they scurried, barely disturbing the stones and dust. Into locked rooms they drifted.

    Upon her bed, Autumn lay with furs cast aside as she tossed and turned; her mind sundered by nightmare. Sweat pooled along her shuddering spine and her hair stood on end as she felt that something was dreadfully wrong.

    Something foul.

    Black eyes opened in the darkness, only the moonlight between cracks in the tightly closed shutters served as her guide. The gloom was oppressive and choking, yet to her eyes nothing was amiss.

    However, the sinking feeling of dread disagreed.

    She had felt this feeling before, that feeling of being watched from sight unseen. Were they back? She mournfully wondered. Had the fae found her brief sanctuary?

    Upon her bedside table rested her freshly made prosthetic and weathered wand. Her paranoia was within arm¡¯s reach as she cast the cold room in a suspicious light. Quietly and carefully, she armed herself. While the inn itself was devoid of life aside from her and Nethlia, it was still far too quiet to be natural. The universe was holding its breath. No night birds called out, nor nocturnal insects chirped.

    There was only the cool dread of the night.

    Something was in the room with her.

    Autumn had the sinking feeling that she knew where it hid. Closing her eyes, she pushed her empathic magic to the forefront. A black canvas unveiled itself, only a faint speck of nightmare purple denoted the slumbering form of Nethlia, caught in the web of dreams.

    With a tightness upon her focus, she turned now below to the bed that she¡¯d slumbered upon. A flicker; something beneath sought to hide, to cast its presence thin and unseen to even an adventurer¡¯s honed instincts. It wasn¡¯t enough to escape Autumn; she was sick of the monsters prowling under her bed. No longer would she fear that which slunk below.

    Evil bloomed upon her page. Art so foul it would captivate and drive the artist who¡¯d dare paint it into the greatest of madness. It was a deep red well of hate, bloodlust, and maliciousness that dripped with the unmistakable sickly sweet scent of the Feywild.

    A perfume that Autumn could never forget.

    Now unveiled before her empathically attuned eyes, she could see it wasn¡¯t alone either; another crawled about Nethlia¡¯s vulnerable form.

    It was up to Autumn to warn her and save them from what lurked in the dark.

    Tense fingers of bone white gripped tight around the ivory handle of the gnarled wand. From the deep recesses of her wizened hat, she pulled free a squirming bundle of raw power and fueled her jinx.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    As the tip of her wand glowed an eerie purple, Autumn dragged her feet under herself and was ready to leap clear of the bed. The low creaking of the wooden frame pulsed in time with her erratic heartbeat.

    Below, the lurking creature waited with sharpened claws.

    With an almighty bound, Autumn leapt clear from her bed. Midair, she twisted around so that her back would crash into the wall and leave her with a free path to the monster. Without hesitating, she let fly her cascading spell into the blackened gap. The blast of magic rocketed across space to collide with a heaviness upon the creature that crawled into the moonlight.

    The very moment Autumn¡¯s weight had left the bed, it had lunged out, seeking to sunder her ankles. Thanks in kind to her aerial maneuver, it had missed.

    Under the glow of the moonlight, the foul beast was exposed. A short creature stood before her, covered in wiry brown hair. Long arms draped down to its knees and ended in rust-colored nails while clawed stumpy legs parted the wood below with ease. A horrifying face grinned, a twisted grin full of jagged fangs. Two oversized eyes bulged out of their sockets beside bat-like ears that twitched at every sound.

    One final eerie detail adorned that terrible creature. Upon its head sat a cap of deep red-stained cloth that sagged in place like a sack of flesh. The smell that wafted off it was rancid and metallic. Even from across the room, Autumn couldn¡¯t help but gag.

    The redcap goblin could only momentarily snarl in frustration before that bright violet bolt slammed into it. Its cruel eyes bulged even further from its skull as fear paralyzed it in place.

    Taking the opportunity, Autumn scrambled for the door, as she had discarded her belt on a hook beside it. From now on, she vowed to sleep with it under her pillow.

    Just as she ripped the knife free of its sheathe the paralysis wore off.

    Angrier than ever before, the redcap snarled and spat as it leapt at Autumn¡¯s form.

    A yelp escaped Autumn¡¯s mouth as the pair tumbled to the floor. With a heavy thud, Autumn¡¯s head bounced off the cobbled floor, sending stars through her mind and vision. Thanks in part to her prosthetic, her hand remained gripped fast around her wand while her knife skittered away.

    Sharp teeth once again bit into her, this time sinking into her forearm as it attempted to wrench her wand away, but her grip held firm. With harrowing screams of fright tinged with rage, she drove her fist into the beast¡¯s side over and over.

    Howling in pain as the sound of ribs breaking resounded, the redcap unclenched from her arm. Taking this opportunity, Autumn thrust her wand forth as she gathered up another wave of paralysis, however in the heat of combat she drove the wand deep into the redcap¡¯s wide eyes.

    One last scream tore free of the creature before a bolt of magic released directly into its maleficent brain. It seized up instantly as the fear overloaded its mind. Froth and foam poured liberally from its crooked grin as the overwhelming downpour of fear crested.

    Autumn rolled the creature off of herself as it writhed and twitched.

    She scrambled across the floor to retrieve her wayward knife, cleaning it tight once more. Turning back, she watched with morbid fascination as it stilled, its corrupted heart unable to withstand the unadulterated pulse of fright.

    Her own heart beat like an abused drum against her ribcage.

    It had only been a few seconds of violence since she awoke and, just as she was calming, the door behind her exploded in a shower of wooden splinters. Through the cloud came the seven-foot-tall mass of enraged demoness.

    Pale moonlight played across the exposed flesh of well-defined muscles and expansive shoulders. A river of nightmare sweat had plastered the woman¡¯s hair to her scalp and across her red skin. Mountainous capped peaks heaved with rage and adrenaline in the open air.

    Autumn¡¯s inquisitive gaze drifted along the rippling abdomen before she ripped her gaze away.

    Foul blood dripped down from heavy knuckles.

    Autumn¡¯s screams and fighting had awoken the behemoth of a warrior and she wasn¡¯t pleased in the slightest to find an intruder in her room. As she passed by the stunned witch towards the downed goblin, Autumn got a glimpse of Nethlia¡¯s room through a pair of shattered doors.

    While Autumn had dispatched the redcap rather cleanly, the demoness had simply ripped the goblin into pieces. Like a scene from a horror movie, it lay scattered all over the walls and furniture.

    With her mind shaken still by the suddenness of the violence, she had forgotten to turn off her powers and when she turned back to the warrior; it blasted her with emotion.

    It was like gazing at the sun.

    A burning blaze of unleashed fury roared within the demoness. A beast far greater than what had attacked her, it growled and flared in an almost physical manifestation as Nethlia crushed the dead goblin¡¯s head to paste beneath her mighty heel.

    Soon those bright eyes turned upon her, and for a flash, Autumn was unsure. Yet what she feared never came to pass. The fury didn¡¯t altogether die down or even rest, but it held back from striking out.

    ¡°Are you alright? Shit, your arm. Hold still.¡± Nethlia spoke in a rush.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes stung within her skull as she gazed upon that rage. Hastily, she killed her power, leaving the night all the darker.

    A spike of pain drew Autumn back from her trance. Glancing down, she saw Nethlia was wrapping her arm in the strips of bandages she had just got clean. Flustered, Autumn¡¯s brain finally registered that the strikingly well-built demoness wasn¡¯t wearing even a scrap of clothing and that she was in her underwear as well.

    With a burning face and a heart that thudded for an extra reason, Autumn turned her gaze away.

    ¡°Umm, I¡¯m ok, can¡­can you put some clothes on, please? I think there might be more out in the village. I think I sensed some earlier.¡± Autumn forced out with a shaking voice.

    ¡°Right. Just wait a second. Don¡¯t go anywhere alright.¡± Nethlia replied before rushing off back to her room.

    Autumn turned back to her scattered clothing as strangeness pulsed in her chest and heat bloomed in her cheeks. The shattered doors barely gave either any privacy, but neither was worried about that right now. All that concerned, Autumn was trying to struggle into her worn and weathered clothing with her shaking hands.

    However, in almost no time at all, the two met up again, now armed and armored. Nethlia had bound herself in hides and furs. Moving behind the bar, she removed her iron polehammer from its resting place.

    As her hand closed around its haft, she seemed changed; became complete. No longer did she look like the friendly tavern-keeper, instead now she fell into the intimate groove of the warrior.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Autumn asked the towering demoness.

    Nethlia gazed back at Autumn with fury and determination

    ¡°Yes, let¡¯s go.¡±

    Out into the chilly night, the pair charged with eyes alert for more horrid enemies. Nethlia¡¯s loping strides forced Autumn to jog to keep up. Autumn directed her powers to her eyes. As her emotional fibers concentrated, she saw the redcaps unveiled about the settlement, their murderous glee a blot upon her vision.

 Chapter Sixteen: A Grim Dawn

    ¡°There¡¯s a lot more over at Orzon¡¯s house!¡±

    Autumn shouted to her companion as they rushed across the way.

    With grim determination, Nethlia hit the door to the old man¡¯s house like a battering ram. The thick, sturdy door couldn¡¯t withstand the sheer force of nature that collided with it and exploded into a thousand pieces of wooden shrapnel. Behind the door, a redcap who¡¯d been gleefully ransacking the humble abode was stunned by the splinters. Stumbling and blinded by the pain, it was unable to avoid the hammer¡¯s head that met with its skull.

    For a moment, a headless redcap wandered about, still trying to pillage before it fell with a wet splat.

    From behind the dominating form of the one demonic woman army, Autumn unleashed her jinx upon the shocked redcap horde. Cascading fear fixed them in place as the focused rage of a pole-hammer crashed down upon them. Unable to dodge, they were simple targets for the brutal might of Nethlia. Like the easiest game of whack-a-mole she had ever seen, the pole-hammer rose and fell, coated in blood and gore.

    Then the redcaps were still forevermore.

    Autumn rushed forward to the bedroom. Cresting the doorway, she stopped in shock. Nethlia silently approached from behind to look inside. A quietness encapsulated them at a point of grief.

    They had been too late.

    There lay the ancient blacksmith. A deep red stain pooled on the cobbled floor, seeping through the cracks and ridges. In Orzon¡¯s cracked and calloused hand lay his smithing hammer smeared in foul blood. The old man had put up a hell of a fight in his last moments. All about him lay the shattered forms of several redcaps. Yet the rigors of age had slowed the man and a lucky strike had opened him up.

    ¡°...¡± Autumn¡¯s voice choked up in her throat.

    She had only known the grumpy aged demon a day, yet she still felt a connection and his death hurt deep inside. Glancing to her side, Autumn took in the sight of Nethlia and the sadness that poured forth. The demoness had known Orzon her whole life. Autumn would like to say that didn¡¯t know what losing someone that close felt like, but that would be a lie.

    A silence stretched on as the blood pooled at their feet. There was a lot Autumn wanted to say, to offer in comfort, but there was no time; the redcaps still lurked within the hamlet. They rushed forth from the fallen blacksmith¡¯s home and Autumn felt a creeping dread inside. Within her heart, she had a grim feeling that a wicked fate had befallen the inhabitants of Duskmoore.

    As she had feared, slaughter painted the remaining homes. Upon an altar of evil, the redcaps had cast the families. The men, women, and children of the village lay dead.

    The fae creature¡¯s enjoyment spared none.

    It was only Autumn¡¯s newfound powers that saved her and Nethlia from an equally gruesome fate.

    As they walked around the somber hamlet, Nethlia killed all the redcaps they came across with wrath. Her muscles tensed as she gripped the weapon tight as hot tears spilled forth that Autumn pretended not to see.

    They spoke no words in the night''s silence.

    With caution in her steps, she approached the grieving woman and placed her hand on her arm. The coolness of the prosthetic fingers felt soothing in their way, reminding the demoness that she wasn¡¯t alone.

    How long had it even been since Autumn had arrived? A day? Two?

    Was she not allowed peace?

    Was she not allowed to live unassailed by fear?

    Fine.

    If the fae wanted fear, she¡¯d give them fear.

    She¡¯d burn their whole fucking forest to ash and dust.

    <hr>

    For the rest of the blood-soaked night, the pair searched the surrounding farmlands. Like predators, they stalked through the waving gray stalks and across the grassy pastures, following tracks and traces. Of those trails that didn¡¯t lead to the hamlet, all they found in the end were the crushed remains of redcaps foolish enough to bother the resting calves among the cattle. In their rage, the mother cows and bulls had absolutely destroyed them.

    Only red smears remained on the grasses.

    Perhaps it was inappropriate given the circumstances, but Autumn felt vindicated of her caution towards the behemoth cattle, despite Nethlia¡¯s assurances to their gentle nature.

    Wisely, she kept her thoughts to herself.

    The bellowing herds eyed the pair with mistrust as they skirted around. Even at the distance, their warning cries threatened to burst Autumn¡¯s eardrums.

    A steely look had overtaken the powerful warrior that had Autumn worried. Even with her ability to see emotions, she had no idea what the demoness was thinking. While she was lost in thought, they soon arrived at the first of the outlying farmsteads. All seemed fine at first glance, but that meant little, given what they were up against.

    Fearful of finding more carnage inside, Autumn cast her sight towards the walls, but she saw nothing foul or otherwise. Turning to Nethlia, she shook her head.

    Stepping up, Nethlia pounded on the door heavily.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Open up or I¡¯ll open it for you!¡± she shouted.

    After a tense moment, Autumn heard movement inside and the faint sight of colored emotions. It swung the door open and through it stood a bleary-eyed gruff farmer who held a spear tense in his hand.

    ¡°Nethlia? What are you banging on about this late for?¡± The farmer grumbled as he relaxed at the sight of the demoness.

    Seeing him unharmed, Nethlia¡¯s broad shoulders loosened.

    ¡°There¡¯s been trouble. A goblin raiding party hit the hamlet. Everyone¡­everyone else is dead. There might be more on the loose.¡±

    ¡°Shit. Poor folks, I¡¯ll wake my boys and head around the farms.¡±

    The farmer swore as he awoke fully at the news.

    ¡°Stay safe. We¡¯ll head around but I think we got them all, still keep alert. I¡¯ll need help to clean up.¡±

    ¡°Right. We¡¯ll be there.¡± The farmer replied grimly before bidding them farewell and turned to fetch his sons.

    ¡°It looks like they only attacked the hamlet,¡± Nethlia said, stony-faced.

    ¡°Nethlia, I¡­¡± Autumn said with a guilt-laced voice.

    ¡°We¡¯d best get back; I need to clean up and prepare the bodies for their last rites.¡±

    Autumn trailed behind the broad back of the red-skinned demoness. She cast her eyes low as she lamented her actions; her mere presence here had brought only death, she was sure of it, but where was she to go? This world was foreign to her. She knew nothing and nobody. Not what gods people worshiped, if at all. No laws, rites, or even customs.

    She was so lost and alone that it hurt.

    Perhaps it was time to learn, she thought. Her eyes rose back up to that broad back and cleared her throat.

    ¡°Umm, I¡­I know little about¡­um, about this empire or your people¡¯s beliefs. Ah, what I¡¯m trying to ask is¡­what do your people do for funerals and stuff? I want to do something for Orzon¡­Is that ok?¡±

    For the longest time, Nethlia didn¡¯t speak as they marched back to the now-empty hamlet. Downcast, Autumn was thinking she wouldn¡¯t get a reply when Nethlia¡¯s voice broke the night.

    ¡°Cremation.¡±

    The demoness turned her gaze back to Autumn¡¯s.

    ¡°There¡¯s a story amongst my people, passed down from mother to child. It recalls our origin. Once, long ago, we were slaves to devils within the burning hells. We suffered under their torments as warriors in endless wars or playthings within their depraved kingdoms and halls, but one fateful day a mortal rebelled.¡±

    Nethlia paused for a moment, allowing the silence to linger.

    ¡°With chains broken, that mortal offered us a chance, one last war, and we¡¯d be free. So we took it and fought. Fought until the last arch-devil and their murderous underlings lay dead and in our victory, we gained freedom.¡±

    ¡°The fire goddess Nusraura, known as the mother of war and daughter of rebellion, took pity upon us and ushered us into the mortal planes. We were born of her blood and fire, or so the story goes.¡±

    Nethlia stretched her hand out to where the morning sun would rise.

    ¡°So when we die we return to the flame, to be her fuel in thanks, so that day might come once more.¡±

    The silence of a story ended grasped the atmosphere.

    ¡°What were they called?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°The mortal who rebelled and broke their chains.¡±

    Nethlia hummed.

    ¡°No one knows, the stories just call them the Devil in Red.¡±

    Nethlia turned her sad smile back to Autumn.

    ¡°What about you?¡±

    ¡°Me?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Yeah, you got to hear my tall tale. Who do you follow?¡±

    Nethlia peeked at Autumn¡¯s shadowed face.

    ¡°Umm, I¡¯ve never truly thought about it¡­ I don¡¯t have a god or anything like that.¡±

    Autumn glanced up at the night sky, at the two moons that had greeted her upon crawling into this foreign world.

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯ve always liked the moons.¡±

    Nethlia gazed at the twins above. ¡°Sounds lonely.¡±

    ¡°Lonely? Don¡¯t you see, they always have one another? When I look up, I don¡¯t feel so alone either.¡±

    ¡°What about when it¡¯s a new moon?¡± Nethlia asked.

    In response, Autumn scowled at the demoness teasing her.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll just look at the other one.¡±

    ¡°What about a double new moon?¡± Nethlia teased with a faint smile on her lips.

    Autumn threw her hands up in the air as the demoness laughed. The sound was melodious amongst the solemness; it certainly beat the doom and gloom.

    On the horizon, the faintest rays of morning heat began illuminating the night¡¯s evil deeds.

    Under the morning light, the work of cleaning up the village began in earnest. The farmers of the surrounding fields gathered within the stricken hamlet. Nethlia led the adults to collect and honor the dead while Autumn led the younger demon folk in gathering the redcaps.

    Autumn¡¯s guilt burned within her chest, so she decided to try to protect the hamlet from further harm. Maybe too little too late, but she had to do something. Most of the redcaps were headless, Nethlia¡¯s wrath made apparent. With a sharp knife and a small copper cooking pot liberated from the inn, Autumn stripped the flesh from bone. The foul creatures smelt utterly rancid, far beyond what they should have.

    If evil had a smell, this might be it.

    Not even pigs would want the corrupted offal that spilled from their guts, staining Autumn¡¯s hands.

    The gross scent of boiling meats and gristle sent many of the young demonkind scurrying off to puke. When they returned, they looked at Autumn differently, with a little fear tinged with respect. Perhaps being arm-deep in a goblin¡¯s guts impressed demonfolk, or I might have just been a child¡¯s thinking that it was gross in that cool sort of way.

    Either way, Autumn made some of the grossest soup in existence.

    She then weaved imagination and blackcraft together to create a series of bone totems out of the boiled-clean redcap bones and her twilight hair. She would place each at the boundaries of the hamlet as a ward and warning.

    Hopefully, that¡¯d be enough to repeal any more goblin attacks.

    By the time she was done, the funeral was ready to start.

    Out the back of the tavern in a comparatively clear field, the farmers and Nethlia had built three pyres of firewood, one for each household of the hamlet. These solemn shrines stood ready to receive a promised flame. They had wrapped the bodies of the fallen up in cloth. Gently, they were placed upon the pyres alongside trinkets of treasured memory; a dress well-worn, a pipe well-smoked, and a doll well-loved were meticulously arranged.

    Autumn cautiously approached Orzon¡¯s lonely rest.

    While she hadn¡¯t known him long, she got a glimpse of who he was, that hidden care under a gruff demeanor. From her coat, Autumn retrieved one of her anti-hex charms and placed it upon the blacksmith¡¯s chest, right beside his hammer.

    Maybe he could use it in the next life, whatever that was.

    Nobody spoke in the silent morning; there were no honeyed words or melodious chants.

    Nethlia, with a burning torch in hand, approached in silence. The flickering flames spun off into the sky and illuminated her ruby face of unshed tears. With nary a word, she lit the pyres one after another till all three blazed with the glory of their goddess.

    In the far distance, a cruel pair of eyes watched with delight and resentment.

 Chapter Seventeen: A New Journey Awaits

    Columns of smoke swirled and drifted in the morning air. No other clouds broke the blue above, only the blaze of a morning sun stood in witness.

    Autumn stepped past the shattered remains of her bedroom door and the sticky pool of goblin blood on the ground. Her things still lay scattered around the room from the violence, but it took only a few moments to gather everything she had.

    Glancing inside her tattered bag revealed a distinct lack of provisions.

    Autumn grimaced. It wasn¡¯t like she had any money on hand to buy any with and she still owed Nethlia. She didn¡¯t know how she was ever going to repay her, not just for the food and lodgings either.

    It was clear to her that it was all her fault. She had thought that she had escaped the fae, but that was not so. All those families who had died within the night lay upon her conscience and she didn¡¯t want to add Nethlia to that.

    It would be best if she just left.

    With her pack in hand, Autumn exited her room and headed into the inn¡¯s main room. Standing there in the center of that cold room was the silent figure of a towering Nethlia. She glanced down at the bag in Autumn¡¯s hand before looking back at her shadowed face.

    ¡°You¡¯re leaving then?¡± The words felt like heartbreak.

    ¡°It¡¯s¡­they were¡­my fault¡­If I¡¯d¡­¡±

    Autumn couldn¡¯t find the words to explain the tearing in her heart.

    Fumbling in her robes, she withdrew her pouch of coins; the clinking echoed as she thrust it out in front of herself, not daring to look up at the glowing eyes above her.

    ¡°Here, for your help and food. Those goblins¡­it¡¯d be best if I left. I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m so sorry.¡±

    Autumn quivered in place with her arm still outstretched.

    The silence was haunting as she awaited her final verdict. Eventually, Nethlia spoke again, driving away the cold.

    ¡°Were they after you?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s voice choked in her throat. All she could emit was a shame-filled ¡°yes.¡±

    A low exhale escaped the demoness in front of her. Despite the distance, it almost fluttered Autumn¡¯s draping hair. The sound twisted a knife in her gut.

    ¡°If you didn¡¯t stop, you¡¯d be dead. I saw what you looked like when you stumbled in here. Those goblins would have killed you on the road.¡±

    ¡°But everyone here would still be alive.¡± Autumn¡¯s voice was but a whisper in the gloom.

    ¡°Maybe, or maybe they might have killed us. Maybe a storm would have blown the hamlet away or a fire, but all I know is that you saved my life; if you hadn¡¯t woken me, I¡¯d be dead.¡±

    Glancing up in shock, Autumn spotted the demoness rubbing her neck where a faint line of blood stood out.

    ¡°But..¡±

    ¡°No buts,¡± Nethlia interrupted. ¡°Only the gods know what the future holds. We must simply live each day as it comes. So no, I don¡¯t blame you or hate you if that¡¯s what¡¯s bouncing about that cute little head of yours.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s head lowered as they saw her through.

    ¡°I still need to¡­to go. They¡¯ll still be after me. I need to get stronger. I need to travel and learn more magic. It was¡­it was great meeting you. I wish I could have stayed.¡±

    As Autumn brushed past her, the demoness called out.

    ¡°Where are you going, then? What do you plan on doing for money? Do you even know where you are?¡±

    At Autumn¡¯s awkward silence, Nethlia snorted with exasperation and amusement. From behind her, Autumn could hear rummaging and clanging of pots and pans. Turning back, she was witness to the sight of Nethlia pulling forth various items into a large canvas backpack.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Autumn couldn¡¯t help but ask.

    ¡°Packing, obviously,¡± Nethlia replied with a toothy smirk.

    ¡°Yes, but why?¡±

    ¡°Cause I¡¯m going with you.¡±

    Autumn blinked incredulously.

    ¡°But, I was leaving ¡®cause I didn¡¯t want you to get hurt! And.. and what about your inn?¡±

    Nethlia snorted in amusement.

    ¡°I know. It was kinda cute. Plus, I already sold the inn to a young farming couple. I think I¡¯m done with this place. It¡¯s taken too much. Also, you evidently need to have someone cook for you; you¡¯re so skinny.¡±

    Unbidden hope blossomed in Autumn¡¯s chest as she watched the herculean demoness pack up all her belongings.

    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Nethlia led Autumn outside to a small stable nestled close to the inn. Inside lay a great wooden cart, undoubtedly sized for the demoness beside her. Behind the seats lay a wide bed that easily fit all their supplies, covering it was a heavy wooden frame with a thick sheet of waxed leather, to keep the rain and weather out.

    Food, furs, weapons, and supplies were loaded up in quick succession.

    At the front of the wagon, Nethlia led one of the enormous cattle into a harness. Its four horns still glistened with morning dew and a shine of intelligence radiated from its eyes as it stared unbothered at Autumn.

    ¡°Autumn meet Kira; Kira meet Autumn,¡± Nethlia introduced the pair. ¡°She¡¯ll be pulling us from now on. Don¡¯t worry on her account, she once gorged an Ebony Mantis to death.¡±

    Nethlia patted Kira with pride.

    Autumn smiled wryly as she had no clue what an Ebony Mantis was, but she imagined it wasn¡¯t the tiny insects from Earth. She doubted Nethlia would boast as much if it was.

    ¡°Well? Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Nethlia declared, before helping Autumn clamber up onto the wagon. With a dull flick of the reins and a ¡°hyah¡± they set forth at a plodding pace northwards.

    The day passed Autumn by leisurely. After a few hours of gazing upon fields of gray wheat that swayed in the cool breeze and pastures of cattle, it all blurred together. Before she knew it, the night crested on the horizon.

    Nethlia guided Kira towards a small divot between two rolling hills, off the side of the road. Here they were adequately sheltered from the wind. The site bore the telltale signs of many a rest and campfire. Most likely a favored place for merchants and farmers to stay on their way between the coast and interior.

    Jumping down from the wagon, Autumn stumbled as her sore muscles protested. While the seat was cushioned, a lack of modern suspension had transmitted every bump, stone, and hole directly to her.

    From the back of the wagon, Nethlia fetched an armload of firewood and kindling, which was placed into the existing firepit.

    A clear evening sky bathed the surrounding farms and fields with a beautiful pink glow. No cloud hung heavy above and looked to stay that way through the night. As such, the pair opted to sleep under the stars.

    Autumn gazed out at the setting sun. It was a rare sight for her.

    ¡°Do you mind grabbing the cooking stuff from the back while I take care of Kira?¡± Nethlia asked the dazed witch.

    The suddenness shocked Autumn from her contemplations, and she hastily agreed. In the back of the wagon was a heavy cauldron. Autumn was uncertain what it was made from, although it looked like either copper or bronze. What she knew was that it was heavy. With only slight strain, she lugged it over to the fire.

    She was thankful that it wasn¡¯t full of water.

    Speaking of water, once Nethlia had finished brushing down Kira, she set off with a pail in hand to a nearby stream to fill their cauldron. As she was doing so, Autumn flicked through her Tome in search of a specific craft. During the day, she had momentarily skimmed it in boredom and had found a few interesting pages.

    The Ward of Alarm.

    The Ward of Alarm is a useful spellcraft, as it will allow you to rest easy. Across any accessway, such as a door or window, place a length of human hair soaked in vinegar. Once secured in place, bind the thread with your magicka. When crossed by anyone, it will emit a piercing noise based upon the flavor of emotion bound. To cancel, simply retract the magic inside.

    Underneath the paragraph was a small sketch showing various flows of magic, distances of placement, and other such measurements.

    From her pack, Autumn fetched a spool of hair she had taken from the witch¡¯s hut and a pot of vinegar from their food stores. Once properly coated, she set about creating a series of tripwires amidst the grasses and across the back of the wagon, just in case.

    ¡°Net! I¡¯m setting up a few alarms around us. Do you need anything more from the wagon?¡± Autumn called out to Nethlia.

    Nethlia, who was over by the now filled cooking pot, looked up.

    ¡°Good thinking and no, we¡¯re all set.¡±

    Activating the wires was easy. She simply had to pour a coating of adumbral energy across it. As an added benefit, the near black thread became next to invisible in the night.

    ¡°Done! What¡¯s next?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll start on the cooking. Can you set up the bedrolls by Kira?¡±

    Autumn cast a cautious look at the lazing cow, who returned her look with one of indifference.

    ¡°Uh, why?¡±

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°Cause she¡¯s warm and has far better hearing than us. Why? You¡¯re not scared of the ol¡¯ girl, are you?¡±

    ¡°Are we looking at the same animal?¡± Autumn quipped. ¡°Did you not see what the others did to those goblins?¡±

    Nethlia grinned as she looked up from the pot of soup she was making, the fragrant scent of meat and vegetables drifting into the air.

    ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Kira flickered her long ears lazily at Autumn as she approached with the bedrolls in her arms. Despite her caution, the beast did nothing other than blow hot air into her face and soon the beds were arranged up against her warm belly.

    The dinner that Nethlia made was hearty and filling, with soft and juicy meat alongside vegetables and a handful of spices. It was another delight upon the tongue. Before she knew it, Autumn¡¯s bowl had been scraped clean more than once.

    The pink glow of a setting sun vanished to reveal the risen moons in the dark twilight.

    Nethlia and Autumn both relaxed up against the warm belly of Kira, Nethlia of course being nearer to the wickedly sharp horns. Beside them, within arm¡¯s reach, lay each of their respective weapons. With a clear night sky hanging overhead, Autumn¡¯s mind wandered. She pondered over just how many hours were in a day, how many days were in a week or even a year?

    There was no guarantee that this world was the same as Earth. It¡¯d be highly unlikely to be the case.

    Even if she knew, what then?

    Where was this path taking her? Where did she want to go?

    She needed more information, but that came at a significant risk. Who knows how the people of this world treated travelers from distant realms? For all Autumn knew, they¡¯d kill her as soon as they found out.

    ¡°Do you want the first watch or shall I?¡± Nethlia asked from beside Autumn, breaking her train of thought.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take first watch, if you don¡¯t mind.¡±

    At the moment, Autumn wasn¡¯t feeling tired. She wanted to watch the twinkling stars and ponder what it was she wanted. Nethlia pulled her fur blankets tighter around herself and snuggled deeper into Kira¡¯s side after hearing Autumn¡¯s reply.

    ¡°Wake me when Belmanerth is overhead.¡±

    Autumn stared blankly at the two moons that had only just begun their march across the black expanse above. She hazarded a guess that Belmanerth was the bigger white moon. Gazing at it now, she saw craters littered it, much like Earth¡¯s own moon. A shield to the world below.

    In the end, Autumn¡¯s watch was uneventful, and the night passed her by with only the hoots of night owls for company.

    With the white moon high, Autumn awoke Nethlia before nestling herself down in furs and warmth. Sleep claimed her as soon as her eyes closed.

 Chapter Eighteen: Duskfields

    Autumn¡¯s dreams were uncertain and muddied.

    In them, she traveled alongside a red-skinned woman into mysterious lands and fought unidentified creatures. She saved the princesses of kingdoms and toppled tyrants and foes.

    Yet, amidst the fluidity of her dreams, a figure stood out to her. Amongst the wisps of delusion, they stood clad in a tattered red cloak. The hood cast a deep shadow upon their face that no light could penetrate. It was as if they had no face at all besides the lower half, and upon that pale half-visage was a pair of reddened cracked lips that smiled a crooked smile at Autumn.

    Before they could speak, Autumn¡¯s dreams began to shake and shudder. Snapping her eyes open, Autumn groggily cast her gaze about.

    The morning sun shone over the rolling hills that shielded their campsite, dying the sun in a vivid glow.

    ¡°Good morning. Did you have a pleasant dream?¡±

    A husky voice sounded close to Autumn¡¯s ear. Turning her head, she realized that during her slumber she must have tossed about in her sleep and ended up resting upon the muscular shoulder of her demoness companion. A small amount of drool had leaked from her open mouth onto her.

    Blushing, Autumn distanced herself in a panic, wiping the drool off of her lips.

    Nethlia¡¯s laughter at her plight resounded in the morning air.

    Whilst ignoring the chuckling, Autumn busied herself with undoing her wards around the camp and packing up her and Nethlia¡¯s things. They ended up enjoying a light breakfast of dried meats and fruits. It was nice, but Autumn longed for a plate of scrambled eggs and crisp bacon.

    Soon, the pair had Kira all hooked up and lumbering down the dusty road. Nethlia was at the helm, of course, since she knew where they were going.

    To that point, Autumn spoke up, ¡°What kind of place is the town? Or is it a city?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re heading up to Duskfields. It¡¯s more of a city than a town, large enough anyway. Not as big as the capital of the barony, but still pretty big. They named it after the Duskwheat that this region is famed for.¡±

    Nethlia gestured to the fields of gray wheat waving in the early breeze.

    ¡°All trade passes through the city on its way from the farms and coast to further into the empire. It makes this region a lot of money and a lot of problems.¡±

    ¡°More money, more problems?¡±

    ¡°Exactly, from bandits and robber barons to monsters and worst of all¡­Taxmen.¡±

    Nethlia shuddered.

    ¡°Were you an adventurer there?¡± Autumn asked tentatively.

    ¡°Yup, they¡¯ve got a big guild hall and everything. Speaking of, I hope my license hasn¡¯t expired. That¡¯d be a pain and a half to resolve.¡±

    Autumn bit her lip as she thought about the possibilities. Joining the Adventurer''s Guild would open up a world of options, if it worked as she thought it might. Plus, any sort of income at this stage would be welcome.

    ¡°Do you think I could sign up? Is there some sort of fee or prerequisite?¡± Autumn asked.

    Nethlia looked over at the ragged witch beside her, sizing her up.

    ¡°Sure, I¡¯ve seen you fight. There is a fee, but I can vouch for you if you like,¡± Nethlia ventured.

    ¡°You¡¯d do that?¡± Autumn blinked up, surprised.

    ¡°Sure, you saved my life. It¡¯s the least I could do.¡±

    Autumn turned her head downward at the reminder and an awkward silence enveloped the wagon. To combat the mood, Nethlia moved the conversation forwards.

    ¡°You¡¯ll need a party too, so we might need to put in an application for some sign-ups.¡±

    Autumn latched on a keyword within Nethlia¡¯s statement, ¡°We?¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯ll have me, that is?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Autumn blinked, confused at the demoness beside her. She could not grasp the idea that she¡¯d still want her around after everything that had happened.

    ¡°But what about what happened? The villagers?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s not your fault. Plus, somebody will have to take care of you. When those goblins show up again, I can get some payback.¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s grip tightened around the reins, causing the leather to squeal in protest.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    Ignoring the glow on her cheeks and in her heart, Autumn cleared her throat before speaking up again.

    ¡°Who¡­who else would we need? For a party, that is?¡±

    ¡°Well, it depends on what a party needs, what they are gearing towards, etc. I¡¯ve found that a party of six fares better. You can cover most of your bases that way. Bases such as a defender, an attacker, a magician, a healer, a rogue, and lastly a tactician.¡±

    Nethlia ticked off her fingers as she listed the roles.

    ¡°The guild likes to have everyone within a ¡®class¡¯, but they can be rather broad. It¡¯s unlikely we¡¯ll get everyone what we need, but most adventurers can fulfill multiple roles.¡±

    ¡°For example, I¡¯d list myself as a ¡®berserker-attacker¡¯, as the guild likes to say, but I can fulfill the defender role if pressed.¡±

    Autumn cupped her chin in thought.

    ¡°So like a DPS then,¡± Autumn murmured.

    ¡°Dee Pee Ess?¡± Nethlia asked with a raised brow.

    Realizing she had spoken aloud, Autumn blushed before elaborating. ¡°D.P.S., it stands for damage per second. It¡¯s, umm, a term my father used. He was an adventurer too.¡±

    In truth, he was an online adventurer, but it still counted, kind of.

    ¡°Huh, never heard that one before, but I guess it makes sense.¡±

    Autumn sighed in her heart as Nethlia bought her excuse.

    ¡°That¡¯d make me the magician as a ¡®witch¡¯ or maybe a CC tactician? Err, crowd control tactician, I mean.¡±

    Nethlia gave Autumn a curious look.

    ¡°Sure, unless you can heal?¡±

    ¡°Nope.¡± Autumn shook her head. ¡°I can craft a healing balm, but it¡¯s only skin deep and I need more ingredients. Oh, that¡¯s right. I need to visit an alchemist or herbalist, whichever is fine.¡±

    Autumn exhaled. ¡°So, we¡¯re missing a healer and rogue for sure, a defender and magician maybe?¡±

    ¡°Sounds about right, but we¡¯ll just have to see when we get to the guildhall.¡±

    Nethlia sent a fanged smile Autumn¡¯s way, causing her traitorous heart to skip a beat.

    With a tumultuous beat inside her chest, Autumn settled into a comfortable silence. To occupy her wandering mind, she retrieved her Tome of Witchcraft and devoted the rest of the day reading it or in idle conversation. It wasn¡¯t until an afternoon sun shone down upon them that Autumn got her first glimpse of the city.

    Rising high from the rolling hills was a massive spire of stone. A singular formation in an ocean of gray. Nature had deposited this lone sentinel to tower over the outlying hills, and mortals would be remiss to miss such a destiny. Atop the pillar, a city nestled like a king¡¯s crown. It¡¯s towers of stone serving as gemstones.

    Impenetrable walls lined the edge of the plateau above, hewn from the cliffs themselves. Watchtowers of timber and shingle rose from square protrusions. Their roofs flaring upwards to the sky, decorated with demonic horns and iconography. Autumn could only just spy the silhouettes of soldiers as they passed between crenellations on patrol.

    The city roofline peaked above. Densely packed buildings, many stories tall, cast shadows down below. At the far back a castle sat, not of stone but of log. A courtyard mansion.

    Another series of imposing walls sat at the base of the enormous rock. Connecting the two were a series of switchback paths creeping up the steep cliffs. At each turn, a gatehouse sat ready to be shuttered in case of invasion.

    Autumn didn¡¯t envy anyone who aspired to invade this city.

    While not a perfect parallel, the city reminded Autumn of ancient Chinese architecture.

    The pillar of stone grew larger and larger, heralding their approach. Wagons and carts cued up outside the city gates, filled with all manner of goods. Farmers, merchants, and travelers awaited entry in multiple directions.

    It was at one of these queues that they found themselves at the very back.

    Time crawled by at an extraordinarily slow pace.

    Despite having traveled to another world, albeit unwillingly, Autumn still found herself stuck in traffic. Like something trapped them in thick molasses, the line barely moved. Ahead of them, the guards on watch thoroughly checked every cart that trundled past.

    Directly in front of theirs sat a miller¡¯s cart, overflowing almost with bags of Duskflour. Gray dust clung to every surface, turning the cart gray too. Just barely peeking out over the back of that wagon was the tiny face of an Inferni child. The girl was maybe eight or nine years old. Underneath a coating of gray flour was bright orange skin. A head of softly curling hair draped past a cute pair of horns, while a pair of brightly glowing eyes stared at Autumn.

    She was enraptured by the sight of a human witch. It was unlikely that she¡¯d ever seen either before, so was filled with an excited fright.

    Nethlia didn¡¯t seem too bothered with the staring, only leisurely smiling as they waited. While Autumn cared little for attention, there was much she could do about it. However, when the girl¡¯s tiny glowing orbs would meet with Autumn¡¯s gaze, she¡¯d let out a small squeal of fear and wonderment. It brought a quirk to the corner of Autumn¡¯s lips. Just a little one.

    Soon enough the line had crept close enough for Autumn to catch sight of the milling gate guards.

    Each guard wore a matching set of lamellar armor overtop of a gray silken gambeson. The armor was bone-white, constructed of rectangular sections of Agoroth horn, stitched together horizontally to overlap the rows below. They had tied onto their shoulders and hips separate panels of lamellar on leather. The helms they bore were similar in design, while a horsetail flowed from the peak. Loose gray pants flowed into a pair of armored red leather boots.

    For a weapon of choice, they carried a long spear of dark wood capped with the sharp points of the Agoroth¡¯s horns. Even from a distance, Autumn recognized the material as it was the same as what made up her prosthetic fingers.

    Amongst the spirited collection of young demons and demonesses of varying hues that were inspecting the carts and wagons were a few grizzled veterans. The veterans were rather easy to spot as they inhabited their armors with a quiet assurance that their juniors lacked as well as they had colorful scarves wrapped around their necks.

    Autumn watched as one of the demoness guards spotted them. At the unusual sight of a herculean warrior and a haunting witch, the young guard rushed anxiously inside the gate towards the captain of the guard.

    The captain was an older demon. His long, graying hair gathered back in a loose ponytail. Upon his brow and around the corners of his eyes rested decades of experience, weathered and etched. He¡¯d also inscribed his armor with intricate patterns inlaid with gold that shone with magic.

    A heavy sigh escaped from the captain as he took in the sweating demoness guard before him. Turning his attention towards them, he locked eyes on their place in the line. Taking in the towering form of Nethlia and the smaller one of Autumn, he let out another tired sigh before standing up and making his way over to them at a sedate pace.

 Duskfield City Map

The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

 Chapter Nineteen: Through the City Proper

    Seeing the slow approach of the captain and the curious gazes of the surrounding guards, Autumn was beginning to feel rather nervous. Knowing her luck, something was bound to go wrong.

    Autumn turned to Nethlia.

    ¡°Should we be worried about that?¡±

    Nethlia looked over at the slowly approaching captain before replying.

    ¡°Nah, that¡¯s just old Captain Kyron. The younger guards tend to just panic about everything. He¡¯ll just come over to make sure we aren¡¯t up to anything strange. He knows me, so it¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Nethlia gave her a reassuring grin.

    As the cart grew closer and closer to the gate, the more her nerves multiplied. Only Nethlia¡¯s presence kept her from panicking too much. Having been searched for contraband or criminals, it was allowed entry through a massive gatehouse.

    With their view now unobstructed, Autumn could see inside the walls. Warehouses lined the walls and cliff face feeding into a series of cargo lifts that were in constant motion. Goods were being hauled up to the city above.

    A little orange hand shyly waved goodbye from the back of the miller¡¯s cart.

    The pair now found themselves at the front of the line.

    The guards had gathered all around the gatehouse, preventing them from entering. Now they watched nervously as the captain arrived. If Autumn wasn¡¯t so stressed out, she might have found it funny that all these larger guards found her intimating. She could see it in their glowing eyes.

    Captain Kyron strolled up beside the cart and gazed up at the pair with battle-hardened eyes.

    ¡°Nethlia.¡±

    ¡°Kyron,¡±

    After casting a quick gaze at their rather empty wagon, as it held only their personal effects, Captain Kyron returned his sight to Nethlia.

    ¡°I take it you¡¯re not here to make a delivery?¡±

    Nethlia tensed her jaw a beat before replying.

    ¡°No. Duskmoore got hit bad, by Redcap goblins to be precise. We¡¯re the only survivors. Some farmers from the outlying farms have taken over to clean up, but they could use some help, maybe a few patrols?¡±

    With hard eyes, the captain took in the information before closing his then in weariness.

    ¡°I¡¯ll send some of the young ones out on patrol. Thanks for the heads up for what it¡¯s worth.¡±

    The captain¡¯s gaze shifted over to Autumn.

    ¡°The caster with you?¡±

    Nethlia nodded in reply.

    The captain¡¯s gaze lingered on Autumn¡¯s tattered hat and robes before he spoke again.

    ¡°No casting in public and no large-scale rituals, summoning, and or spells unless specifically appointed and approved by the Chief Wizard or the Governess. Are we clear?¡±

    ¡°Crystal,¡± Autumn replied.

    Captain Kyron¡¯s eyebrow raised at Autumn¡¯s reply, but he just shook it off before turning back to Nethlia.

    ¡°Are you carrying anything that the watch ought to be made aware of?¡± He asked lazily.

    ¡°Nope.¡± Nethlia denied.

    With a shrug, the captain turned back to the milling guards. ¡°All alright they¡¯re clear. Let them through.¡±

    At his call, the various armored guards parted for their cart and Kira lumbered her way past. Once through the large gatehouse, to their immediate left was a watch garrison, and across the way at a slight diagonal was another uniformly large gatehouse leading to the switchback path up the pillar.

    ¡°They let us through just like that?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Well, Kyron knows me and the guard have magical means to tell if someone is lying.¡± Nethlia replied, ¡°Just don¡¯t do any casting outside and you¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Autumn turned her attention back to the front just as they passed by the second of the many gates going up to the city above. It took a fair amount of time, even with the powerful Agoroth pulling them up the slopes, billowing out puffs of steam into the cooling air as she went.

    As they rose higher and higher, the air was getting thinner and a lot colder. Autumn wrapped herself up in her voluminous cloak to stave off the biting chill. Cresting the final rise, they turned off into the last of the gates and through it, Autumn got a better look at the city of Duskfields.

    A dense cityscape sprawled out before Autumn. The limited foot space upon the plateau meant the buildings had built up in every available space, including heavenward. Multi-storied buildings of wood and tile dominated the sky and underfoot well-hewn stone formed polished paths. Hanging lanterns and billowing cloth criss-crossed between buildings while street stalls lined the avenues underneath.

    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    For a moment, Autumn felt as if she had wandered into an old quarter of some Chinese city.

    But it was the people that gave it away as anything but. Demonfolk dominated the hustle and bustle of the crowds, from bakers and butchers selling their wares to the ordinary folk moving along the main street or simply browsing the wares.

    Here and there some other folk wandered, but the majority lay in the Inferni people.

    From what she could see, the fashion trends of the city varied wildly. Some wore layers upon layers of silk in intricate robes and gowns that wouldn¡¯t look out of place in a period drama while others wore more modern-looking garb.

    Of the stalls and stores lining the main street that sold clothing, many had hanging fur and fabric scarves, shawls, and hooded cloaks. They made some of the clothing that Autumn could see from the bone and leather of the Agoroth or a smooth layered silk. There were some strange materials mixed in here and there too.

    After passing under the last imposing gatehouse, Nethlia guided Kira to make a hard right towards a large building just beside the gate. From the almost physical wave of animal smell that emanated from it, Autumn could deduce that this was a stable of some sort.

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s questioning look, Nethlia spoke up.

    ¡°We need to stable Kira here for as long as we stay. You¡¯re not allowed beasts of burden in the city streets. It''s far too tight.¡±

    Inside the stable, Autumn spied a small menagerie of animals. Agoroths lay slumbering within pens, horses with hair of flame neighed, and there was even a napping three-headed dog. Before Autumn could inquire if she could pet the animals, Nethlia pulled her away from them. For a small fee, they had stored their wagon in a warehouse along the wall nearby, and now they carried their lighter possessions.

    ¡°So where to now?¡± Autumn asked, ¡°Do we book at an inn or do we head to a money exchange or what?¡±

    Being in a new city always was nerve-wracking at the best of times, even more so when she had no local currency and it wasn¡¯t even a city of her race.

    Luckily for her, Nethlia had lived in this city for ten years.

    ¡°Well, there are a few places we could go. The Dancing Flame Inn is close, but it¡¯s usually packed. The Drunken Devil is better, but it¡¯s right on the market, so it¡¯s mainly a tavern. I know a place we might stay and get your coins changed, but it¡¯s not an inn.¡±

    Nethlia rubbed the back of her neck as she gazed down the main street.

    ¡°So like a bank? Or moneylender?¡±

    Nethlia hesitated before giving a cagey smile to Autumn.

    ¡°Something like that.¡±

    Autumn squinted suspiciously at Nethlia, but it wasn¡¯t like she had anything better. So she just sighed and followed behind her towering compatriot. Nethlia was like a ship-breaker as she pushed through the densely packed crowds. Autumn followed behind in her wake, keeping a lookout for thieves and pickpockets, but she needn¡¯t have bothered.

    Of those so-called thieves that watched the thoroughfare, none were stupid or brave enough to accost the seven-foot-tall demoness who looked like something carved them from red marble or the spooky witch with her.

    As they passed by the hawkers, Autumn looked at the quality of the clothing for sale, each far better than the ones she was wearing, aside from her hat and robe. All her things were possibly centuries old at this point and barely held together thanks to her flight and the claws of goblins.

    As soon as she had some coins on hand, she¡¯d need a new wardrobe.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t buy anything down Main Street. It¡¯s mainly for merchants or travelers. You¡¯ll get better deals in the marketplace or in one of the hidden nooks this city has.¡± Nethlia informed Autumn.

    Continuing on, they eventually broke into the main marketplace of the city. Immediately, Autumn was blasted with the scents of spices, cooked meats, fragrant herbs, and all sorts of barter goods. The noise was almost overwhelming as people bartered over prices with bellowing merchants.

    ¡°The Drunken Devil is over there,¡± Nethlia shouted as she pointed across the way.

    True to her word, a tall pagoda-like building towered up into the busy skyline. The doors were held permanently open as people streamed to and from the bustling building.

    ¡°They¡¯re pricey, but they serve some of the best drinks around.¡±

    After skirting around the left side of the busy market, the pair then traveled down one of the northwestern streets. At its end, a large looming building confronted them across an intersecting path.

    ¡°What¡¯s that building?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Hmm, oh, that¡¯s one of the guild buildings. I think it¡¯s the Performer¡¯s Guild. We¡¯ll head to the guild square after we get sorted. For now, let¡¯s go around the back.¡±

    Turning left, they made their way towards a crossroads. To their left now was a massive domed building almost the same size as the market square. Before Autumn could ask, Nethlia pointed to the dome.

    ¡°That¡¯s the arena. Most of the time it¡¯s used to host fights, but sometimes other events take place there.¡±

    Turning right, they continued around the backside of the Performer¡¯s Guild. An acrid smell issued forth from a row as they passed by on the left, a swinging sign proudly declared ¡°Alchemist¡¯s Row¡±.

    Autumn could swear she heard muffled explosions emanating from several of the buildings there.

    At the next street, Autumn paused in place as she took in the sight before her. Hanging red lanterns painted the street in a rich red glow. Lush silk and velvet fabrics danced in the wind as they hung overhead.

    If, at first, Autumn suspected that this was a cultural difference, the stunning array of scantily clad figures that lounged upon cushions within open doors silenced it. They moved about the customers enticing them to relax amidst the parlors and other delights.

    With a face as bright as Nethlia¡¯s skin, Autumn turned to her compatriot for answers, only to see her already a few steps ahead.

    Unwilling to be left behind in such a place, she scurried after her.

    The sight of the amazonian demoness striding through had drawn courtesans and other night workers. However, seeing her determined pace, they only flirtatiously called out to her rather than try to waylay her.

    On Autumn¡¯s part, they only stopped and stared.

    On one hand, it was handy as it meant Autumn could easily catch up to Nethlia, while on the other she felt a little hurt that they didn¡¯t see her as a potential customer. They were right, of course, as she had no money, but it still stung in a way she didn¡¯t expect.

    Their destination turned out to be a large bordello that almost resembled a mansion, as it dominated the others around. A sign painted along its side proudly read ¡°The House of Blooms¡±. The brothel had an air of a higher class to it. For one, it resided within its own space unbordered by the other brothels and stores, and for another, no call girls or workers sat outside its exterior to usher people inside.

    As if ignoring Autumn¡¯s burning gaze, Nethlia strode up to the closed, heavy door of the brothel and seized a gilded door knocker.

    A series of swift knocks rang out in a rhythm akin to a secret code.

    Despite herself, Autumn grew excited by the mystery of it all.

    In response to the sudden knocks upon the door, a curtain beside it shifted as someone inside peeked out at them. After a beat, the door before them swung open and a friendly voice called out.

    ¡°Nethlia! You¡¯re back! Come in, come in. Oh, you have a friend with you? Well, if they¡¯re with you, that¡¯s fine.¡±

 Chapter Twenty: The House of Blooms

    ¡°Come in, Come in!¡±

    A woman ushered both Nethlia and Autumn into the building. Upon entering, a large elegant foyer met them, much like the lobby of a hotel. Soft couches lined the walls while a well-organized desk dominated the space. Upon it, an enormous book rested.

    The woman who greeted them was rather short for an Inferni, around Autumn¡¯s height. Two small horns peeked out from a stylish curl of black hair that draped down to her shoulders. Bright orange eyes shone out from behind a pair of slim spectacles as she observed them. Her slim body was clad in a fusion of medieval attire and a modern business suit. A three-piece suit comprised a white blouse, a leather vest, and a blue coat that fell to her knees. Tight suit pants tucked into leather boots and a cute bow tie pulled the outfit together.

    With a cheery smile, the demoness addressed Nethlia.

    ¡°It¡¯s been so long! Are you here to visit, or are you looking for work?¡±

    Autumn turned mechanically to Nethlia with disbelieving eyes and flaming cheeks.

    Nethlia coughed in embarrassment.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say it like that, Stacy!¡± Nethlia turned to Autumn. ¡°I worked here as a bodyguard, that¡¯s all. Just to supplement my income.¡±

    Autumn was relieved slightly and, as she turned back to the receptionist, she caught a look of mischievousness in her glowing eyes.

    Nethlia let out a relieved sigh.

    ¡°Is the madam in?¡±

    ¡°She is, but let me check if she has any appointments.¡±

    Upon saying so, Stacy the receptionist skirted around the desk and began leafing through the book placed there. A soft hum filled the air as she ran her finger down the entries before stopping upon a black space.

    ¡°It looks like she has got no meeting scheduled at the moment. Most likely she is either getting a handle on some paperwork or having a break. Normally, I¡¯d have to pencil you in for later, but I¡¯m sure she¡¯d want to see you.¡±

    Stacy winked at Nethlia.

    Nethlia nodded before turning to Autumn. ¡°Right. Pass me the pouch and I¡¯ll get it exchanged. It¡¯ll only take a minute. You hang out down here for a bit. I¡¯ll be right back.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right.¡±

    From within her robes, Autumn withdrew her coin pouch and handed it over. Nethlia gave a small wave before striding off into the lobby and ascending a grand stairwell there.

    A sigh escaped Stacy as the pair watched Nethlia go.

    ¡°What a great ass.¡±

    Autumn choked on her spit at the comment. As her face reignited, Autumn whirled upon the demoness beside her. Stacy was dreamily staring at the retreating ample backside of Nethlia.

    ¡°T¡­that¡¯s¡­I wasn¡¯t¡­staring or anything.¡± Autumn stammered.

    ¡°Huh? Sure.¡±

    Stacy smiled at Autumn¡¯s blushing face.

    An awkward air of silence emerged between the pair. Stacy returned to her spot behind the reception desk and listlessly watched Autumn.

    Feeling the gaze upon her, Autumn coughed away her embarrassment.

    ¡°Umm, Stacy right? Is that a local name? I¡¯m not really from around here, so um, I haven¡¯t met many¡­uh Inferni?¡± Autumn rambled.

    Stacy¡¯s eyes squinted at Autumn as if she had touched upon a nerve. Seeing the demoness giving Autumn a judging look, she squirmed in place.

    ¡°It¡¯s not. Local, that is. I¡¯m a Half-Inferni if you couldn¡¯t tell. My mother was human, so she gave me a human name.¡±

    Autumn breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had heard Nethlia refer to her people as Inferni before, but still wasn¡¯t sure. The last thing she wanted was to embarrass herself or come across as suspicious.

    ¡°I couldn¡¯t tell that you were a Half-Inferni. Does it matter here or something?¡±

    Stacy hummed.

    ¡°Many people don¡¯t like humans around here, so I get harassed a bit. You might want to watch out. Don¡¯t worry about the House of Blooms, if you are a friend of Nethlia, you¡¯ll be fine here.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Autumn muttered.

    Once again, an air of awkwardness sprung forth between the pair. Autumn fidgeted in place under the oppressive silence.

    ¡°Have¡­have you worked here long?¡± Autumn blurted out.

    Stacy let out a long sigh.

    ¡°I¡¯ve worked here for a while. You know what, instead of waiting out in the lobby, how about I take you to a side room to rest your feet or something?¡±

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    As Stacy rounded the desk, she guided Autumn further into the lobby. In doing so, Autumn missed a twinkle of mischief in her orange eyes. Step by step, they guided Autumn further back and down a corridor before they stopped in front of an innocuous door.

    Taking a key from around her neck, Stacy unlocked the door.

    ¡°It¡¯s just in here. You go first.¡±

    Unsuspecting, Autumn obeyed. As she stepped through the sight before her made her freeze and before she could retreat, the door shut behind her with a slam. The sound of the lock re-engaging broke the silence.

    From behind the door, a muffled voice called out.

    ¡°Take care of Nethlia¡¯s friend, would you girls?¡±

    The room Autumn had found herself in was a lounge area for the courtesans of the house to relax between shifts. Various cushions of varying sizes and decorations lay scattered around the floor amidst low tables filled with food, drinks, and, sometimes, games.

    But what sold that the space was for the bordello¡¯s workers and what had made Autumn freeze was the half-dozen scantily clad women of all sorts of species now all staring at her curiously.

    Autumn¡¯s hand frantically turned the door handle behind her, to no avail.

    Normally no one but the staff of the house were allowed into this area, so the sudden intrusion took aback the lounging women. Not to mention that Autumn hardly looked like their usual clientele given how disheveled she was, but at Stacy¡¯s mention that she was Nethlia¡¯s friend, several of the women brightened up.

    Autumn had no notion of what to expect. She¡¯d never wandered into a brothel before in her life, so she half expected to be set upon like an antelope before a pride of lionesses.

    Seeing her discomfort, one of the women stood up and smiled gently at her.

    At first, Autumn took her for a rather tall human. Her skin was a rich chocolate that coated dense muscles all along her rather exposed body. Only a tight white shirt and small black shorts covered her modesty. A pair of slender shoulders supported her generous breasts that strained under the tight top. A skinny waist packed with powerful abdominal muscles led down into broad flared hips and a pair of thick thighs on top of two long legs.

    What clued Autumn to her being not a human, or at least not fully, was a pair of long rabbit-like ears that sprouted from a head of soft white curls.

    From a pair of sensual lips, a voice like creamy milk flowed forth.

    ¡°Hello lovely, don¡¯t mind Stacy. She¡¯s not very patient. Why don¡¯t you take a seat and tell us why she has hidden you away with us?¡±

    Autumn almost got lost in the ebbs and flows of the woman¡¯s smooth voice. Before she could reply, another voice broke in.

    ¡°Was Stacy telling the truth? Are you a friend of Nethlia?¡±

    Ahead of Autumn was an elven-looking girl. Silken blond hair trailed down a cute face of heart-stopping beauty and around a pair of long drooping ears. The elf girl possessed a delicate slender body, only barely hidden behind a sheer dress that flowed along her small curves.

    Most fantasy fiction she had read often depicted elves as supremely attractive, and as Autumn¡¯s heart beat frantically in her chest, she could only agree.

    ¡°Hush Saph. Oh, I¡¯ve been ever so rude. My name is Lia. Lia Sher in full, but Lia is just fine.¡±

    With her introduction, the bun-woman lightly grasped Autumn¡¯s hand. Seeing her prosthetic fingers, she faintly paused in curiosity before kissing the back of Autumn¡¯s hand.

    ¡°May I be so fortunate to know your name belle femme?¡±

    With a bewildered and reddened face, Autumn replied.

    ¡°A-Autumn, Witch Autumn, umm. Just Autumn is fine.¡±

    ¡°Such a curious and beautiful name.¡±

    Lia smiled a smile that melted Autumn to the marrow. She felt all gooey inside; nobody smiled that way at her before. She could tell that the interest was real, as in her previous fright she had instinctively activated her emotion-sensing powers. The room before her was filled with the colors of curiosity.

    ¡°And I¡¯m Saphielle Valnelis or just Saph to friends.¡±

    The elf declared with a bright smile that almost blinded Autumn in its purity.

    ¡°H-hi.¡± Autumn squeaked ¡°Um, I came in with Nethlia. She¡¯s talking to the madam. I don¡¯t know why Stacy shoved me in here.¡±

    Saph snorted surprisingly elegantly, despite her crudeness.

    ¡°She shoved you in here ¡®cause she can¡¯t hold a conversation to save her life. Why she¡¯s a receptionist, I¡¯ll never know.¡±

    Autumn could sympathize.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure Miss Autumn would like to take a seat. How about you help her with her coat and hat, Saph?¡± Lia asked.

    Autumn instinctively grasped her hat protectively.

    ¡°Umm, please don¡¯t touch my hat. You don¡¯t touch a witch¡¯s hat.¡±

    Without missing a beat, Lia gave Autumn a soft smile.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. At least allow Saph to take your coat.¡±

    Reluctantly, Autumn allowed Saphielle to take off her robe and hang it up along the wall as they guided her to the center of the group. Upon sitting down on one of the fluffy cushions, Autumn was practically surrounded.

    On her right-hand side, Lia had rested herself and was idly examining Autumn¡¯s prosthetic. The gentle strokes of feather-light fingertips sent flutters into Autumn¡¯s heart and she didn¡¯t have the willpower to pull away. To her left, Saphielle sat with a plate of fruits and diced cold meats, offering them up to the witch. Her ocean-blue eyes were piercing as they gazed at Autumn.

    ¡°You look a little tense. Would you care for a shoulder massage? Nalaia is our best masseuse. Her hands could turn stone to mud.¡±

    A pink-skinned demoness knelt behind Autumn at her quiet assent and began softly kneading Autumn¡¯s tense muscle. Slowly, a knot of tension in her back melted away and, under those firm hands, Autumn became a pool of bliss.

    A long sigh of contentment escaped Autumn.

    ¡°How did you meet Nethlia?¡± Lia asked.

    Seeing as they were friends or at least friendly with Nethlia, she saw no harm in telling them and, to be honest with herself, Autumn wanted to vent. She had decided to tell Nethlia anyway about the Feywild. She just hadn¡¯t decided upon whether to disclose that she wasn¡¯t from this world yet.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a long story. It all started when I was going to sleep¨C¡±

    Autumn wove together her tale. She avoided telling them about Earth, but she told them about her abduction and almost drowning. Of the Summer Court and her daring escape. Spoke of the river Styx, of the dead within, and her brush with a visage of death itself. She told of her discovery of the witch¡¯s hut and her recovery, of her fight, flight, and leap to freedom.

    On and on she spoke to an enraptured audience who gasped and cheered, wept and admired.

    It was cathartic to spill it all out and with her powers, she knew that the surrounding women weren¡¯t just acting for her benefit, they truly wanted to hear what she was saying. It was an intoxicating feeling.

    When it came time to tell of her meeting with Nethlia and the deaths that weighed upon her, Autumn¡¯s eyes welled up and the dam of emotion broke.

    As she cried for those she had doomed, they held Autumn against bosom and breast.

    A black and tattered hat loomed above like a lone sentry.

 Chapter Twenty-One: The Adventurerâ€™s Guild

    After her tears had dried, Autumn ventured to ask more about the House of Blooms, considering its unique placement.

    The House of Blooms only catered to female clientele and purely possessed female staff. In other words, it was a lesbian bordello. The news did shock Autumn as she hadn¡¯t the best impression of medieval eras, granted that was based upon Earth¡¯s culture. However, unlike an ordinary brothel that¡¯d hire whores and night escorts, courtesans staffed the House of Blooms. The difference being courtesans could use other means to entertain their clients other than sex, for example, art or music, poetry, massages, or even just someone to talk to who¡¯d listen.

    Of course, they told Autumn that sex was still a major part of their business model, much to her embarrassment. The teasing looks she had gotten had lit her face up brilliantly.

    To escape the embarrassment, Autumn had stutteringly mentioned that she was learning to be an artist. Hearing that, the girls had enthusiastically shown Autumn to their private art gallery filled with paintings either they or their clients had drawn.

    As such, this is where Nethlia eventually found her wayward companion.

    Autumn had been in the middle of drawing the languid figure of Lia as she stretched out upon a pile of feathered cushions when Nethlia arrived.

    ¡°How¡¯d you end up here?¡± Nethlia queried.

    ¡°Nethlia! You¡¯re back!¡± Saphielle shouted.

    A clamor erupted in the studio as all the women who had followed swamped the tall demoness. Nethlia herself looked overwhelmed and amused by their sudden antics, having to fend off a barrage of questions.

    ¡°Not even a hello for us, Nethlia?¡± Lia pouted.

    Nethlia let out a sigh and a fanged smile her way.

    ¡°Yes, yes. Hello Lia, hello everyone. While it is nice to see you all again and I would like to catch up, I need to steal Autumn away. We need to head over to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild before it gets too dark.¡±

    Lia frowned.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to stay in the guild hall bunks, are you? We have some free rooms here, along with your old room.¡±

    ¡°I made a deal with the madam, so don¡¯t worry. We¡¯ll be back before nightfall.¡±

    With unmatched strength, Nethlia gently removed the women who¡¯d clung onto her, much to their delight. Soon, Autumn was freed from her predicament and now walked alongside Nethlia, heading back to the lobby.

    ¡°You alright? They didn¡¯t annoy you too much?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Such a simple question that holds a depth of meaning in its answer.

    For now, Autumn felt better than she had in a long time. The act of letting go, of telling her tale, had been a release she desperately needed, but as all her experiences with therapy could tell. It wouldn¡¯t last long. In the end, all she said was¡­

    ¡°I¡¯m alright.¡±

    Nethlia gazed down upon Autumn for a long silent moment before handing her a familiar pouch. Inside was a handful of coins that bore the image of a horned female Inferni on one side and a flaming sun on the other.

    ¡°These are Empire coins. The madam didn¡¯t know what nation the ones you had were from, either relevant or historical. However, the purity and weight were fine, so I got an equivalent exchange.¡±

    Sure enough, the coinage amounted to: 1 gold, 12 silver, and 32 copper pieces.

    ¡°How much do I owe you?¡± Autumn asked as she rummaged through her coins.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    Startled, Autumn gazed up at Nethlia.

    ¡°But what about the inn fee and the food?¡±

    Nethlia shrugged, unconcerned.

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter anymore and you¡¯ll need it yourself. I¡¯ll be fine. I have some money saved up.¡±

    Still unconvinced and guilty at heart, Autumn was about to argue some more, but Nethlia interrupted her.

    ¡°Anyway, we need to get to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild before dark, lest it close on us.¡±

    Autumn stowed away her words with a frown, hurrying to catch up with the long strides of the demoness warrior.

    Nethlia and Autumn were bid farewell from the House of Blooms by its courtesans, as if they were heading to war. They laced over-dramatic goodbyes with amusement and joy. Autumn had to duck her head to hide a slight smile underneath her hat.

    The guild district wasn¡¯t that far from the red-light district, which made sense given they would be a principal source of clientele. As the afternoon turned into evening, the brothels became lively. Like the air had been lit by a spark, the atmosphere of the district became heated and stuffy. Autumn¡¯s ears burned as the sounds of frivolity and decadence resounded.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    Luckily, with Nethlia serving as an icebreaker pushing against the flow of the crowd, the pair could easily make it to the end of the street and out into the guild district.

    A central open-air square dominated the space, around which several massive buildings crept into the sky. In the center, a fountain burbled and spouted from a colossal marble statue of a nude Inferni demoness. The statue had a metaphysical weight. It drew the eye curiously. Not magic, but something different, something¡­more.

    As if to say: ¡°Here lies a hero.¡±

    Nethlia only spared a glance at the imposing statue before pushing her way past lingering crowds to one hall that sat to the north. This particular hall was almost certainly the Adventurer¡¯s Guild, not just because of the large sign above the entrance, but because it was the loudest and rowdiest.

    As Autumn approached the front doors, she wondered if she¡¯d be challenged by some sort of arrogant young master or a drunken adventurer hazing the fresh blood. If so, she just hoped she¡¯d be registered before Nethlia destroyed them. Autumn entered the hall and a wall of pipe smoke and ale mixed with the powerful stench of sweat hit her.

    Standing just in the doorway''s front, Autumn took in the main chamber.

    The hall was cavernous before her. It stretched upwards through multiple floors of silk-swathed balconies. In the center of the space, a solid wooden pillar sat inside a well-adorned circular bar. Well-dressed bartenders in guild colors dashed between hundreds of taps regularly to fill mugs with beer and ale for an endless stream of thirsty adventurers. Copper pipes lead upwards like swirling and twisting vines, towards a series of massive barrels set into the ceiling above the pillar. The sheer quantity of alcohol flowing through such a setup boggled the mind.

    Around the sides of the hall, a series of stone fireplaces burned away gleefully, warming the patrons. The chamber was utterly packed. Upon elevated platforms away from the main hustle and bustle, individuals sat at low tables drinking and cavorting. Near the entrance in a shaded corner, a group of bunnykin sat dividing up a small pile of gold and items.

    ¡°Come along. The registration is on the second floor.¡±

    Nethlia led Autumn further into the guild, pushing past other adventurers.

    Glancing around, Autumn spotted a solitary demoness lounging by a fireplace. What drew Autumn¡¯s attention mainly was that the demoness was attired like a typical pirate with striped pants and tall leather boots.

    As she nonchalantly picked at her nails with a thin dagger, her bright eyes met with Autumn¡¯s and she winked.

    Further into the hall, Autumn heard a harmony of instruments. Looking around for the source, Autumn saw a stage on the far side of the hall. There, a motley crew of bards and musicians played. Paying closer attention to the ongoing melodies and rhythms, Autumn realized they were performing a musical duel.

    An elven woman, with a tall and slender frame, held aloft a gleaming violin. From her dexterous fingers, a slow composition issued forth. Long blond hair swayed with her movements past a pair of sparkling blue eyes. Like many of the bards around, she wore a colorful and billowing top, rather tight pants and an elegant smile.

    The music picked up as other bards fought to lead the tempo, but the elven bard flowed with the sudden increase and remained in control. In all honesty, it should have sounded like a discordant mess, but the skills of the bards kept it in harmony.

    It seemed to Autumn that was half the fun.

    Autumn tore herself away from the display, following behind Nethlia as she was ascending a stairwell to the side. As she was walking, she noticed another strange figure sitting alone at an almost empty table, despite the packed room.

    There, sat all alone, was a strange girl with skin like ash and a head of literal flame that flickered and waved in an unfelt breeze. They¡¯d laden the table in front of them with all sorts of potions and bottles. Some glowed brightly, while others bubbled.

    Autumn tore her fascinated gaze away.

    The Guild had formed the second floor of the hall like a ring around the main hall. Balconies and railings made up the inner edge while the outer edge housed many private booths.

    Cresting the stairwell, Autumn turned her head to the side to look inside one of these booths. There she saw a motley collection of priests and priestesses privately discussing the goings on in their respective religions.

    While she wished to learn more about this world and their beliefs, now was not the time.

    Following hurriedly behind Nethlia, Autumn got more and more glimpses inside various booths.

    In one, she saw a strange scene that looked akin to a painting. A trio of huge, muscular Inferni warriors held tiny cards in their hands as they hunched over a table. Opposite them, a tiny man with wild purple hair sat. Autumn watched as the gnomish-looking man subtly placed an illusion on his cards before placing them down to win whatever game they were playing. The Inferni cursed as the gnome swept up a small pile of gold into what had to be some sort of bag of holding.

    As he passed Autumn by, he gave her a wink before heading down to the bar. Between one moment and the next, he disappeared.

    Shaking her head, Autumn turned back to follow Nethlia, only to realize there was a weight in her hand that hadn¡¯t been there before. Looking down, she saw the glint of a gold coin in her palm.

    Quickly turning back to the crowd, she tried to see the miniature fellow, but to no avail.

    Her inattention to where she was walking cost her as she almost collided with an oncoming individual.

    ¡°Oi, watch whaur yer gaun¡¯.¡±

    Autumn quickly swiveled around, only to have to look downwards. The scowling individual in front of her was to her, a dwarf. An immaculate beard flowed down to their waist, braided with small engraved bone pendants. Runes in dark blues and blacks tattooed what little of their face Autumn could see before they brushed past her.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± Autumn apologized.

    The sheer variety of different people had Autumn¡¯s mind spinning.

    Most of the people she had witnessed so far were Inferni, followed closely by those bunnykin that she hadn¡¯t had the chance to learn the name of yet.

    As she followed behind Nethlia, Autumn caught a strange scent in the air. A familiar scent. One that drove a spike of fear and anger down her spine. The sweet sickly smell of the Feywild.

    It wasn¡¯t as strong as the fae that had chased her, nor was it as strong as the iron-like taste of the goblins that haunted, but she smelt it all the same. Following the smell, Autumn came across one booth. Standing in the entry, she glanced inside and met eyes with a rather nervous young woman.

    The sight she saw within took her aback.

    Sharp eyes of bright green nestled within a delicate face of painted wood that flexed and moved with the furrowing of her brow. Hair of blooming flowers and autumnal leaves cascaded along her crown. She wore nothing spun or stitched but the fashioning of nature into a draping gown.

    Soft wooden arms clutched nervously at her table as Autumn took her in.

 Chapter Twenty-Two: Copper Rank

    A dryad sat alone in a booth, staring nervously at the unusual witch. She shivered as a dull pulse of cold-iron radiated out and a dark viscous magic leaked from beneath a tattered hat. Amongst the boisterous chatter of the guildhall, a pocket of tense silence bubbled around the two.

    While her face remained stony, Autumn¡¯s eyes swirled with magic.

    Yet, before anything could erupt between the two, a deep masculine voice boomed from Autumn¡¯s right.

    ¡°No fighting in the guildhall.¡±

    Flinching, Autumn turned towards it.

    A broad, muscular, and masculine chest was the first thing Autumn saw. Looking up, a bovine face met her: a minotaur. Huge wicked horns curved outwards from a bull¡¯s head. Across his back, a heavy wooden tower shield rested. It was almost the same size as himself.

    Autumn also caught that Nethlia had noticed her halting and looked ready to throw hands at the Minotaur. While the minotaur outsized and outweighed Nethlia by a considerable margin, Autumn got the feeling she wouldn¡¯t lose out.

    Taking a breath to calm herself, Autumn addressed the minotaur.

    ¡°No trouble from me.¡±

    Turning to the young dryad, Autumn mustered the courage to apologize. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± the dryad whispered.

    With a pulsing in her ears, Autumn caught up with Nethlia. The demoness still glared at the minotaur as they left.

    ¡°Everything alright?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I was just surprised, you know. I wasn¡¯t expecting any fae-folk.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s breath shuddered.

    A look of realization dawned upon Nethlia¡¯s face as she glanced back to the now hidden dryad. She bit her lip in contemplation, mulling over what to say. With a soft voice, as if addressing a spooked kitten, she spoke.

    ¡°Dryads aren¡¯t fae. Well, they are, but like descendants, far removed descendants. Not every child bears the sins of their fathers. Inferni are similar; we¡¯re distantly separated from the devils that chained us.¡±

    Autumn scowled.

    ¡°I know, I know. I¡¯m not ignorant, or at least I hope I¡¯m not. It¡¯s just after the goblins and everything.¡±

    Autumn shrugged helplessly.

    The lessons Earth¡¯s people had learned were hard to forget or ignore. Oh, how much easier it¡¯d be to just hate, but she wanted to be better than that. The world wasn¡¯t just good and evil or black and white.

    ¡°Come on, time¡¯s ticking,¡± Nethlia said.

    Finally, after so many distractions, the pair made it to the reception of the guild. An annex building attached to the main hall housed the staff area. In the front, five small desks stood spaced apart. It reminded Autumn of the few times she had gone to the bank.

    Receptionists swiftly dealt with the small lines of adventurers seeking employment or missions. So it didn¡¯t take long air to make it to the front of their cue.

    ¡°Next please.¡±

    Standing upon a set of small stairs was a female receptionist who, if standing beside Autumn, would have only come up to her waist. The halfling was wearing a guild uniform that looked a cross between a business suit and a mountaineering outfit. Over a white tailored shirt and leather pants, she had a harness-styled belt that held everything from a sharp combat knife to scrolls, quills, and inkwells.

    A set of reading glasses sat upon a cute button nose which she fiddled with as she had to stare up at Nethlia, even with her step stool.

    ¡°OH, hello, hello. Welcome to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. My name is Zenmia Stoutbottle of the Northern Stoutbottles and I¡¯ll be your receptionist today. This line is for new applications and reissuing of former IDs.¡±

    Zenmia smiled up at them.

    Nethlia stepped forward nervously with her old ID already outstretched.

    ¡°One new applicant and one returning. Thank you.¡±

    Zenmia blinked, bemused by Nethlia¡¯s nerves. Despite being an old hand, the towering demoness didn¡¯t seem used to the administrative situation she had found herself in.

    ¡°Please place your old ID on the desk. Thank you.¡±

    Nethlia quickly put down a slim card made up of some sort of odd metal. They¡¯d magically engraved it with the information and a likeness of its holder. Autumn didn¡¯t get a good look at it from her position as the receptionist took it and placed it upon an arcane-looking device.

    ¡°I¡¯m also looking to sponsor the new application if my guild credits are still valid.¡±

    ¡°Alright, just let me check your ID.¡±

    At that moment, there was a jiggling chime from the device. As the Halfling read through a series of glowing words, her eyebrows crept up higher and higher. Eventually, when she turned back to Nethlia, her eyes shone with admiration and awe.

    ¡°The Guild is more than happy to welcome you back, Omen Hammer. Your ID has been reissued and we¡¯ll, of course, accept your sponsorship.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me, what exactly does sponsorship entail?¡± Autumn asked.

    Zenmia turned to Autumn curiously before explaining.

    ¡°Sponsorship means that a more experienced adventurer vouches for your talents. This means that you can skip the trial rank and enter straight into copper. The ranks, if you are unaware, are: copper, silver, gold, and finally platinum.¡±

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    Zenmia smiled.

    ¡°Now if you could please write your name and relevant details, I¡¯ll be able to register you as a copper-rank adventurer.¡±

    She presented a parchment and quill to Autumn.

    ¡°If you can¡¯t write, I¡¯ll be more than happy to write it for you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. I can write. Um, do I need to put a full name?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d recommended it, but it¡¯s not mandatory. A first name would be fine. The only mandatory thing is your class or role. For example fighter, mage, rogue, etc. This is so we can know what sort of people we might pair you with, as well as allowing the guild to know what assets it¡¯s working with.¡±

    Autumn nodded before taking the quill and scratched in her details. Before she got further than her first name, she heard a cough from Zenmia. Peering up, she saw the halfling looked a little embarrassed.

    ¡°Umm, can you write in Infernal or Common, please?¡±

    Looking down, Autumn realized she had written unconsciously in English.

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    With a flick of her will, she felt her mind shifting. When she next put the ink to parchment, her hands flowed unfamiliarly despite just writing the same as before. Autumn only filled in her basic details. Autumn for her name and witch (mage) for class/role.

    At this stage, Autumn had no idea how long a year was in this world. If she wrote seventeen, who knows how young or old that was? For all she knew, a year here might be a hundred on Earth, or vice versa.

    ¡°All right Miss Autumn, here¡¯s your ID. Just a few rules to go over. They¡¯re rather basic, no killing or stealing from your fellow guild members. Try not to put the Guild in a negative light, etc. You are required to complete a set number of missions per month based on your rank or missions will be allocated to you.¡±

    ¡°Also, you can use Guild credits to book meeting rooms, hire mentors, or use other guild facilities. I think that¡¯s it. If you have questions, feel free to come by and ask.¡±

    Autumn held her ID in her hands. It was rather spare in details, but a rather gloomy image of herself that had been taken without her knowledge took half of the space up. It mortified her to see how much of a mess she looked right now.

    With nothing else to ask, the pair bid farewell to Zenmia and stepped out of the line. Huddled to the side, Autumn took stock of her tasks.

    ¡°What now?¡±

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ll need new clothes and armor before we try to hire anyone else. Nobody will want to join our party if we don¡¯t look like we can handle ourselves.¡±

    Autumn nodded in agreement.

    ¡°How good are you at bartering?¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s grimace was enough of an answer.

    ¡°Saphielle is the one we want. She¡¯s always shopping for one thing or another. When I was last here, she was practically in charge of the house¡¯s shopping.¡±

    ¡°So back to the Blooms?¡± Autumn asked.

    Nethlia nodded.

    As they worked their way out into the colder air of the outdoors, Autumn spoke up once more.

    ¡°Omen Hammer? Really?¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s ruby cheeks darkened further.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t pick it! The Guild loves naming members strange names and they catch on!¡±

    Under Autumn¡¯s disbelieving stare, the two made it back to the House of Blooms and sought the bubbly elf.

    ¡°Aw, you came to see me so soon!¡± Saphielle cheered.

    Nethlia smiled at her.

    ¡°We need your expertise if you¡¯re free.¡±

    ¡°Gasp, usually I¡¯d charge a lot for two, but for you, I¡¯ll make an exception.¡±

    Nethlia sighed.

    ¡°I meant with shopping.¡±

    Saphielle giggled at Autumn¡¯s flustered face.

    ¡°I know, I know. I was just teasing. Come to my room Autumn. I need to get dressed, can¡¯t go shopping in my knickers. Well, I could, but then I¡¯d have to outrun the guards, haha.¡±

    Autumn was half dragged into the elf¡¯s room. Behind them, they slammed the door in Nethlia¡¯s face.

    ¡°You stay out there! I haven¡¯t tidied up!¡±

    Shaphielle had packed the bedroom full of clothing: dresses, robes, casual clothing, and shoes. Oh, so many shoes. However, it wasn¡¯t messy as such, everything in there was neatly organized, it was just that there wasn¡¯t much room left.

    Saphielle looked a little embarrassed as she picked her way through a rack of clothes.

    ¡°I mighttttt have a shopping addiction. But! I¡¯m also the best around at finding deals. Nobody can beat me.¡±

    Saphielle puffed out her chest.

    Autumn awkwardly looked around as the elf picked out her outfit.

    ¡°Umm, have you known Net long?¡± Autumn asked as casually as she could.

    ¡°Oh? Is someone afraid I¡¯ll steal their girlfriend?¡± Saphielle teased.

    ¡°We¡¯re not¡­ I¡¯m¡­It¡¯s not like that!¡±

    Autumn¡¯s cheeks burned under the attention of Saphielle¡¯s giggles.

    ¡°I¡¯m just teasing, just teasing. Anyway, I¡¯m not interested in sex anyhow.¡±

    Autumn blinked, confused, as Saphielle threw a dress to the side.

    ¡°But you work in a brothel?¡±

    ¡°Bordello.¡± Saphielle corrected, ¡°I like people. I enjoy talking with those who come to me, hearing their stories and woes. I enjoy art and here I can paint or be painted on and nobody cares.¡±

    Saphielle turned to Autumn.

    ¡°I¡¯d like you to draw me sometime once you¡¯re done with Lia¡¯s, of course.¡±

    A flash of inspiration lit up Autumn¡¯s mind. Her magic took on the width and breadth of color, likely influenced by her artistic leanings. What if she could paint that canvas of the soul that only she could see?

    How vibrant would it be?

    That pure reflection of the raw, unfiltered soul.

    It was something to think about.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go!¡±

    Saphielle¡¯s shout pulled Autumn from her musings. The lively elf had ultimately found an outfit she liked, a flowy dress and tights with a thick fur-lined coat overtop to drive away the chill.

    Exiting the bedroom, the pair reconvened with a bored-looking Nethlia.

    ¡°Before we head off, we need to go over your budgets,¡± Saphielle said.

    Autumn pulled her small coin pouch from her inner robe pocket to check her total.

    ¡°2 gold, 12 silver, and 32 copper.¡±

    The coins jingled musically as Autumn bounced the pouch. That gnome fella had almost doubled her reserves just for not calling him out. Two gold pieces looked much better than a lonely one.

    ¡°But I still have some random jars and ingredients to sell.¡±

    ¡°Right, so we¡¯ll head on over to Alchemist¡¯s Row first. I know a great place to get some good prices.¡±

    Saphielle smiled evilly as she rubbed her palms together.

    Nethlia shook her coin pouch lightly.

    ¡°I have 13 gold, 23 silver, and 43 copper.¡±

    The much larger and filled bag gave Autumn a touch of envy, but Saphielle didn¡¯t seem that impressed. She seemed almost confused.

    ¡°What? Weren¡¯t you a bigshot adventurer for ten years? I know the madam would have paid you better than that to start with.¡±

    Autumn had no idea about Adventurer¡¯s income and expenditure, but Nethlia seemed a little embarrassed and shy.

    ¡°I, umm, invested it into some local businesses. I have more money. It¡¯s just tied up right now.¡±

    Saphielle was taken aback. For a moment, she stared at the evasive demoness as she ran through her memories.

    ¡°Wait a minute! Roughly around the time you left, we got a bunch of new stuff! New beds, kitchenware, and they redid the bathroom! Was that because of you?!¡±

    Saphielle exclaimed as she circled the demoness like a hungry shark chasing some juicy gossip.

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Nethlia said, confused.

    At her almost confirmation, Saphielle squealed and latched onto Nethlia like a limpet.

 Chapter Twenty-Three: The Shopping Episode

    Once Saphielle was successfully detached from Nethlia¡¯s side, she led the pair off to the Alchemist¡¯s Row.

    While the entire city felt cramped, the Alchemist¡¯s Row was even more so. Shops and workshops were built onto each other, overlapping in some cases. Charred wood and blackened stone clarified several shops had, at some point, blown up and had been rebuilt over and over.

    From chimneys billowed forth smoke of many colors; swirls of purples, reds, and greens danced together as they drifted off into the ether. Further into the district, they wandered past shop windows displaying glass vials filled with concoctions of every hue. Glowing alchemical light lit the evening streets in a fantastical, prismatic spray.

    Jutting off a corner was a tight alleyway. Small lanterns orbs floated around the entrance, lighting it in a soft gloom.

    ¡°It¡¯s just down this way,¡± Saphielle reassured them.

    Sure enough, at the end of the L-shaped alley, there was a colorful red door. Beside it hung an old signboard that read ¡°Ember¡¯s Elemental Elixirs¡± in fading font.

    ¡°Here it is. A hidden little place, but no lesser than the rest.¡± Saphielle said.

    Autumn was glad to find a place to offload her miscellaneous jars and bottles. She had skimmed through the Tome of Witchcraft for other recipes, but it looked like the good Witch Augus wasn¡¯t that much of a brewer. Of the recipes Autumn found, most were for boils or warts, funnily enough. The healing cream was the rare exception.

    It made her wonder why the witch had so many random ingredients in the first place.

    As Saphielle pushed the door open, a small bell jingled.

    ¡°Welcome to Ember¡¯s Elemental Elixirs. What can I do for you today?¡±

    From the interior, a bored voice called out.

    As Autumn entered the shop, she got a glimpse of a familiar face. It was that fiery-haired girl she spotted in the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.

    Currently, the girl was slouched behind the counter, gazing at them with flickering orange eyes. A head of short flame danced on top of her head, as well as her eyebrows. Scattered across ash-colored cheeks and a small nose was a considerable collection of orange freckles. A soot-stained shirt clad her slim tomboyish body underneath a heavy fabric dress with a copper trim. It enshrouded her shoulders and fell to her knees. Thick workman¡¯s gloves of some sort of leather ran up to her elbows, stained by a great many spilled concoctions and ingredients. From what little Autumn could see behind the counter, she saw the girl wore bulky reinforced workman¡¯s boots.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you Saph, never mind then.¡±

    ¡°Rude, is that how you talk to your best customer?¡±

    As the two bantered, Autumn glanced around the store. Rows upon rows of ingredients cluttered the walls of this modest store. Potions of all varieties glowed, shimmered, or even floated in their respective stands.

    On a central display was a run of potions in the shape of a female bust with a placard beside reading: ¡°Vial of Vigorous Virtue. Spice up your nightlife!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s an aphrodisiac.¡± The flaming-haired girl answered Autumn¡¯s unspoken question. ¡°They¡¯re on sale if you buy three.¡±

    Autumn blushed as she turned her attention back to the counter.

    ¡°Oh, hush Pyre.¡± Saphielle admonished the shopkeeping girl, ¡°Autumn, this is Pyre; Pyre meet Autumn. She¡¯s here to sell some things, so let¡¯s get to bargaining, shall we?¡±

    At Saphielle¡¯s avaricious grin, Pyre backed up.

    ¡°Nuh uh, not with me. Dad! Saphielle¡¯s here to run us out of business again!¡±

    From a backroom behind the counter, an older man emerged and eyed Saphielle warily. Like his daughter, the man had a head of flaming hair but his was droopy and thin while age had cracked his ashen skin like burnt-out wood.

    ¡°What is it this time, Saphielle? Here to clean me out over a handful of coppers?¡±

    ¡°Hah, you wish, old man. This time I¡¯ve got a bargain for you. My friend here is a witch, and she has rare ingredients for you. If you can pay for it, that is?¡±

    Saphielle leaned over the counter as she taunted.

    The man, presumably Ember, only raised a flaming eyebrow.

    ¡°We¡¯ll see. Go on then, place your ¡®rare ingredients¡¯ on the counter.¡±

    Autumn approached the counter with her bag unslung. From it, she retrieved various glass and porcelain jars and containers. Although cracked in some places, they had survived Autumn¡¯s perilous journey intact.

    One contained a twitching fetus of some unknown creature, one packed full of eyeballs, a jar of glowing green goo, and another of dancing purple flames.

    ¡°Gross.¡±

    Pyre spoke as she eyed the jars in fascination.

    Aside from the more interesting ingredients, Autumn had also collected varying jars of more common ingredients. She placed those on top of the counter too, just off to the side. The final jar contained darkness. Not just that it was dark inside or that it was a dark liquid, it was the essence of darkness.

    Ember had been keeping as much of a straight face as he could as jar after jar came out. He was mostly successful until the last jar. Upon seeing the depthless dark, he emitted a small gasp of surprise and wonderment.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°Ah ha!¡± Saphielle crowed in delight. ¡°And you didn¡¯t believe me when I said it was rare.¡±

    Ember grimaced at his slip-up.

    ¡°Well, be that as it may, I still have a store to run. I¡¯ll give you 20 silvers for the creature fetus, 5 for the eyeballs, 15 for the goo, and 20 for the dancing flame. These other random bits I¡¯ll take off your hands for 5 silver. For the jar of darkness, I¡¯ll do 2 gold.¡±

    Saphielle scowled.

    ¡°Are you trying to insult me, old man?! Triple that, for starters, and the jar of darkness is at least 100 gold!¡±

    At Saphielle¡¯s outrageous number, the alchemist¡¯s hair blazed up high, almost scorching the roof.

    ¡°100 gold?! You¡¯ve lost your mind, girl! Rare or not, I can¡¯t afford that. The best I can do is 5 gold.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were that broke! 20 gold!¡±

    ¡°8!¡±

    ¡°15!¡±

    ¡°10 and that¡¯s my last offer!¡±

    Saphielle and Ember glared at one another as the other watched on, amused. Sparks of lightning seemed to flicker between unwavering gazes.

    ¡°34s for the fetus, 23s for the goo, 10s for the eyeballs, 40s for the flame, 5s for the assorted, and 10g for the darkness jar, deal?¡± Saphielle asked.

    Ember contemplated for a moment, his flaming eyes taking in the jars arrayed before him.

    ¡°So, 11g 12s in total? Alright, you got a deal.¡±

    With that, the two shook hands, completing their rather heated round of bartering. Autumn suspected neither knew what the jar of darkness cost, but seeing as she didn¡¯t either, there wasn¡¯t much to be concerned about.

    In the future, she might have been able to use it, but right now it was nothing but dead weight.

    The jingle of coins as they fell into Autumn¡¯s coin pouch was rather musical. In total, she now had 13g, 24s, and 32c, rivaling Nethlia¡¯s. While she still didn¡¯t know if that was a large sum or not, it confirmed to Autumn the exchange rate of 100 per denomination.

    ¡°Alright, now was there any other business?¡± Ember asked.

    Glancing around, Autumn spied an assortment of glowing red potions situated behind the counter. Peering closer, she saw a sign helpfully displayed that they were a series of health potions.

    ¡°How much for the health potions?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°50g each.¡±

    Autumn blanched.

    ¡°Maybe some other time.¡±

    Seeing that neither Autumn nor Nethlia were buying anything, Saphielle clapped aloud in the silence. With attention drawn by her sudden action, she addressed the pair.

    ¡°Alright, next stop is Catherine¡¯s Clothing Collections because, frankly, and I don¡¯t say this to be insulting, you two need a serious wardrobe change.¡±

    <hr>

    Located just off the central market square were an array of shops that weaved and clustered together to create an assortment of twisting alleys and pathways. Bright silken banners draped overhead while hued walls displayed all manner of signage.

    Here the buildings were far more tidy and ordered than the clutter of the Alchemist¡¯s Row or the chaos of the Red-light District.

    Down one twisting back alley, a massive store stood. The owners had converted it out of what had once might have been an old warehouse. Upon its side, a painted mural declared: ¡°Catherine¡¯s Clothing Collections, your one-stop shop for all your second-hand and discount apparel!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t let the slogan fool you. Everything here is of mostly good quality,¡± Saphielle reassured them before entering.

    Racks upon racks of outfits dominated the inside of the store. Underwear and outerwear, armor, robes, and more, this store seemed to have it all packed inside its four walls.

    ¡°Hello and welcome to Catherine¡¯s Clothing Collections. I¡¯m Catherine. Feel free to browse and when you have what you need, bring it here.¡±

    A well-dressed and green-skinned Inferni welcomed the trio into the store.

    Immediately after greeting the proprietor, the group split up. Each headed off to different sections of the store. Saphielle made a beeline to the dresses on display while Nethlia headed for the armor sections. Autumn made her way over to the underwear first; her¡¯s was on its last legs and rather unflattering. It was with great relief that she could gain some nice underthings.

    It was nostalgic for Autumn as she wandered around what was essentially a fantasy department store.

    Autumn was an adventurer now and she¡¯d found clothing to match.

    The tattered witch¡¯s hat still sat perched in place upon her head of messy twilight curls. Around her athletic upper body and modest breasts, she¡¯d clad herself in a tunic made of a soft and warm cotton-silk blend in a striking dark-gray color. Protecting her stomach and keeping her shirt from billowing too much was a leather under-bust corset. It wasn¡¯t as rigid as Autumn had been expecting, but it still felt strong to the touch. Maybe it was made from some fantastical creature.

    After a brief struggle, her wide hips had slipped into a pair of reddish-brown hide pants. The leather was stretchy, allowing her a greater freedom of movement than she thought it would. Autumn wrapped a bronze-colored sash around her waist first, then a long belt that could enclose her twice over. The belt came with a few pouches and a pair of straps from which she could fasten her Tome of Witchcraft.

    Over top of this, she threw on her beloved robes. The fraying material still had some life in it, and to be honest, Autumn just loved how spooky it looked and the way it made her feel safe.

    While the clothing was all well and good, she still wanted some armor.

    Autumn came across two items that fit her needs: a pair of bracers and a pair of boots.

    They had made the forearm bracers of red leather and held panels with bone facing outward. On the inside of each, there was a sheath that one could slip a dagger or wand within. When worn, they disappeared beneath Autumn¡¯s billowing sleeves. The boots she had obtained were thick and study-looking. Rigid leather came up to her mid calf while a thick multi-layered sole protected her feet. Bound to it were greaves and a partial sabaton of carved Agoroth horn to cover her shins and foot.

    All in all, it was the outfit Autumn wanted and needed, one that favored mobility but still kept a modicum of protection.

    ¡°Hey, good looking! I almost didn¡¯t recognize you without your tattered visage!¡±

    Saphielle grinned as she bumped into Autumn, her arms piled high with dresses and other items of apparel.

    ¡°What do you guys think? Does this look ok?¡±

    Turning around, Autumn caught sight of Nethlia. Contrary to what Autumn had expected, the demoness now wore fewer clothes than before.

    Fur, leather, and bone had been meticulously cut and crafted into a lightweight armor. It protected Nethlia¡¯s upper body and waist but left her scar-clad and muscular abdomen exposed under Autumn¡¯s ardent gaze. Bulging biceps and thighs of ruby-red stood out proudly from the hide armor. Wraps of cloth and furs held her breast protectively while a heavy mantle rested upon her shoulders and back to guard her neck.

    A pair of fur-lined and bone-studded bracers sat atop a set of fingerless leather gloves with knuckles armored by more dense bone. A huge belt decorated in the bones, teeth, and trinkets of slain monsters supported Nethlia¡¯s waist. Tucked into it was a small curved dagger scrimshawed from a horn. A loincloth-like skirt hung front and back from her hips and on her feet she wore a set of reinforced boots like Autumn had found.

    She now looked like the berserker that she was.

    ¡°Uhh, Autumn? Hello, anyone there?¡±

    Nethlia waved a hand in front of Autumn¡¯s glazed eyes.

    ¡°Huh, good! Umm, you look, I mean, it looks great!¡± Autumn squeaked as her cheeks turned red.

    ¡°Righttttt.¡± Saphielle purred. ¡°All this shopping has made me hungry. Let¡¯s go get this stuff paid for and get back for dinner.¡±

    With Saphielle at the helm, the cost of their shopping only came out to a gold each, and they left Catherine¡¯s Clothing Collections with a smile, a wave, and a spring infecting their step.

 Chapter Twenty-Four: A Room to Call Home

    As the sun dipped beyond the far horizon, a pink glow lit up the evening sky, bathing the still bustling city. Lantern lights of mundane or magical origins were lit along the twisting streets.

    Even as nightfall approached, the city seemed still so alive.

    Those who¡¯d toiled during the day now emerged to relax and revel in a festival of liquor and satisfaction.

    The trio eventually found their way back to the House of Blooms, only stopping occasionally to fill out their supplies. Things like hempen rope, bedrolls, travel gear, and a selection of dried rations.

    With the evening in full swing, the Red-light District was abuzz with libidinous entertainment. The red lanterns cast an erotic radiance on the street and on patrons. Autumn kept her head low and hidden as they pushed through. Out of her ragged apparel and now looking more like a proper adventurer, Autumn was catching more consideration from the local sex workers. Nethlia far more in her furs, leathers, and tight muscles.

    After entering the safety of the bordello, Saphielle turned to the pair.

    ¡°You didn¡¯t get much of a tour before, did you, Autumn? Well, to the right of the parlor, through those double doors, is the main entertainment space with adjoining pleasure rooms. You¡¯ve already been to the staff room and the art gallery, so let¡¯s carry on to the second floor, shall we?¡±

    From the entrance, Saphielle led them up a pair of majestic stairs. The room doubled in height as the two floors connected. Here on the landing were various nooks that lay scattered with pillows and tables. A more private function area.

    At the end of the space, a solid wooden door sat closed.

    ¡°This is the start of the residence for the staff. No clients are allowed up here, so bear that in mind.¡±

    The door opened smoothly to reveal a pair of corridors, one leading straight ahead while the other split off immediately to the right. Already, Autumn could smell the heady scents and aromas of roasting meats and vegetables wafting in from the corridor ahead.

    Dinner was almost ready.

    However, instead of heading that way, Saphielle turned to the right-hand corridor.

    ¡°The first door on the left is the lavatory. Unlike the 1st floor, which has a lavatory outside, we have indoor plumbing. Most buildings in the city don¡¯t, especially the slums, but the madam could pull some string to get it fitted.¡±

    Saphielle gestured as they wandered down the hall, arms still laden with dresses.

    ¡°The second door is the bunk room. We currently have a pair of mercenaries to work as guards and bouncers. Wysalana, I call her Lana, and Yarica. You might meet them later.¡±

    Saphielle stopped in front of the third door just before another corridor Like a T.

    ¡°This is Nethlia¡¯s old room. Aside from dusting it every once in a while, nothing much had changed. Come along Autumn, I¡¯ll show you to your room.¡±

    ¡°Umm, is it alright? I mean, this isn¡¯t an inn or anything.¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s fine. The madam said it¡¯s okay, although you might need to pitch in cleaning or helping around the place. Nethlia used to keep the people outside from getting too rowdy. To tell you the truth, I¡¯ve found having adventurers around is good for business.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°Well, firstly for protection,¡± Saphielle gestured at the towering form of Nethlia, ¡°and second, it adds a bit of mystery and danger for our regulars. Not that we want actual danger, just the illusion of it.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Autumn said nervously.

    Further down the corridor, the pair traveled, leaving a bemused berserker behind. At the junction between the two corridors, the pair stopped. Looking down the new corridor, Autumn could see five doors evenly spaced along the right-hand side while three doors lay on the left, after where Nethlia¡¯s room would end.

    ¡°You¡¯re the first on the right. You know, you are kind of lucky. One of our staff left and we haven¡¯t got round to hiring anyone new, so there¡¯s a room free. If you have any issues, bother Lia. She¡¯s in the bigger room at the end of the main corridor, just above the parlor.¡±

    With that last note, the blond elf scampered off down the hallway.

    The bedroom Autumn walked into was fairly cozy, perhaps somewhere around ten feet wide by twenty long. Polished wooden floors stretched back to a window framed with velvet curtains in a rich purple. From this window, the red light of the swinging lanterns filtered in, casting the room in an intimate gleam.

    A large pelt rug of an unknown beast dominated the floor space and upon it sat a bed of soft linens and warm furs. Plump pillows beckoned Autumn to rest her weary head.

    Beside the bed stood an antique-looking bedside table made of rich, dark wood. On its top, a couple of items lay; a candle holder with a fresh candle firmly nestled, a copper key, and a small polished-bronze mirror. At the foot of the bed was a heavy locked chest, wooden but banded with burnished copper. The lock seemed to match with the key on the bedside table and when Autumn tried it; the chest opened with a click. Unfortunately, the chest was empty, but it gave Autumn a secure place to store her gear.

    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    Just opposite the bed was a modest desk and stool. Thanks in kind to its positioning beside the window, light streaming through fell upon it. Only a few blank scrolls, an inkpot, and a quill lay on its smooth wooden top.

    The only other thing of note in the bedroom was a lacy dressing screen currently folded up beside the door. Autumn didn¡¯t spy any sort of wooden tub or bucket as she had in Nethlia¡¯s tavern. She recalled Saphielle mentioning something about a renovated bathroom before.

    ¡°Are you all set?¡±

    Turning to the doorway, Autumn took in the sight of Nethlia looming in the hall.

    ¡°Yeah, just a little¡­lost, I guess. I¡¯ve never stayed in a place like this before, both the brothel and the city. I keep worrying about the goblins, you know? What if they come back? What if they attack this place?¡±

    Nethlia stared at Autumn for a moment, taking in her anxious appearance.

    ¡°You¡¯re not alone, remember that. Other people worry about these things too: the Duskguard, the Guild, and the Council. They keep the city safe and the monsters out. You¡¯re safer here than anywhere else. So take some time to breathe and train for when they come. You¡¯ll be ready.¡±

    Nethlia gave Autumn a fanged grin.

    ¡°What are you two standing around and yapping for? We¡¯ll miss dinner!¡± Saphielle said to Nethlia, who was blocking the hallway.

    ¡°Alright, alright. Coming Autumn?¡±

    Nethlia made way for her.

    Passing back the way they came, they ventured down the hallway they hadn¡¯t yet traversed. At the end, the narrow hallway flared out, and to the left, a stairwell curved upwards to the third and final floor where the madam¡¯s office and bedroom resided.

    Entering the dining hall, an astounding sight met Autumn¡¯s eyes. Warm lantern lights floated unattached overhead, casting upon many elegant murals painted upon the walls. Colorful banners of red and gold hung beside windows that filtered out the lights and noise of the district.

    They had placed soft cushions and furs upon a polished floor in a circle, inside of which several low tables sat ready to receive many fragrant meals. Along the walls, several decorative weapons sat upon expensive-looking cabinets, and in the corners of the room leafy green plants flourished.

    Currently, the only other person within this space was a small feathery-winged girl carefully clutching a cushion between two talons. Her face was alluring but still human, with soft lips and round eyes. What skin Autumn could see was bronzed by the sun. Feathers of spotted brown and white made up a fuzz around her head, draping back behind her rounded ears. Where a human¡¯s arms would be, she instead possessed wings of feathers with long flight pinions that trailed to the floor.

    Sharp talons clacked softly against the wooden floor as she moved.

    As the Harpy turned, still carrying her cushion in hand, she spotted Autumn and let out a surprised thrill that calmed upon spying on Nethlia and Saphielle both. The sound was melodious. It flowed like music or water through Autumn¡¯s mind and within it lay a trace of magic.

    ¡°Saphielle! Nethlia! ~¡± the harpy sang, ¡°Hello new friend~ my name is Floriris.¡±

    When Floriris spoke her name, it came out as a song, one that shifted and flowed. It told a tale of who she was; a lover, a listener, the free spirit of joy.

    ¡°Hello, my name¡¯s Autumn,¡± Autumn shyly said.

    Floriris smiled.

    ¡°You can help me set up the cushions~. I¡¯m not allowed to carry the plates~.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡±

    Autumn helped the feathery girl arrange the cushions. As she did so, Autumn relaxed. Floriris seemed to have a way to her, an aura that was disarming. Maybe it was her looks or the soft laughter that sounded like the tinkling of crystal, but it was soothing.

    ¡°Floriris, do you mind if I ask about you? I haven¡¯t met your kind before and I was curious. If that¡¯s not rude or anything.¡±

    ¡°Sure! You¡¯re very kind~ Not everybody would ask so nicely. I¡¯m a Noctua, or at least that¡¯s what everybody calls us. In our tongue, we are called ¡®??????¡¯¡±

    What issued forth from Floriris¡¯ lips was a trilling song that conjured the image of untethered flight across soaring peaks of ice and song.

    As with all the languages that Autumn had encountered so far, she understood it perfectly and was reasonably confident that she could replicate it. When Floriris¡¯ song reached its end, Autumn closed her eyes and sang. She wasn¡¯t as tone deaf as she remembered herself being, much to her surprise. She recalled Nethlia had mentioned how she had spoken Infernal so fluently as to not have an accent. Perhaps this was the same?

    As the song ended and she opened her eyes, she was met with the cheering of a teary-eyed Noctua girl.

    ¡°Beautiful! Beautiful!¡± Floriris sang ¡°It¡¯s been so long since someone understood~.¡±

    Autumn grinned.

    ¡°I hope I get to see those mountains one day. They sounded wonderful.¡±

    From behind her, Autumn heard an icy voice speak out.

    ¡°What are you two lovebirds up to?¡±

    When Autumn turned to look at who had called her, she was met with the sight of an unusual woman. Her skin was as white as marble and her eyes were a pale pink. Trestles of white hair framed sharp cold features; high cheekbones, thin lips, and almond eyes. Broad shoulders bore the weight of a hefty bust of her hourglass figure. Her wide hips disappeared into a long slithering tail like that of a serpent and were as pale of scale as the rest of her skin.

    Autumn recognized her as a lamia even if she didn¡¯t know what they were called in this world.

    ¡°Caly! ~,¡± Floriris exclaimed ¡°This is Autumn~ We were singing together~.¡±

    Cold eyes took in Autumn as the lamia cocked her head from side to side. As she spied Floriris¡¯ joyous expression, a small smile graced the corner of her lip and it gave her an otherworldly charm.

    Extending a manicured hand out to Autumn, she introduced herself.

    ¡°Greeting Autumn. My name is Calyphopheu.¡±

    Clasping Autumn¡¯s hand, she brought it up to her lips and kissed the back of it. It wasn¡¯t the first time this had happened today and within the same building, too, but it still took her back all the same and left a blush upon her cheeks.

    ¡°Hello, it¡¯s nice to meet you. Umm, might I ask what your people are called? If it¡¯s not a bother, I¡¯ve only heard stories and I don¡¯t want to get it wrong.¡±

    The handsome woman regarded Autumn coolly for a moment. Drawing herself up in pride, her ample chest puffed up as she spoke.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a problem. I¡¯m a Vipera, hailing from the far eastern reaches of the continent. Count yourself lucky, few of my kind like to travel so far from home, nor are many so restrained as myself.¡±

    A pair of sharp fangs peeked out as she smiled.

    ¡°But enough about me. I think I smell dinner arriving.¡±

    Sure enough, a side door opened and the already intoxicating smell of cooked meats swelled to a new high.

    ¡°Shall we?¡± Calyphopheu gestured to the soft seats.

 Chapter Twenty-Five: Dinner and Dames

    The low tables lay burdened with many fragrant dishes. Spiced beef ribs lay in a pool of glistening gravy, strips of seared steaks still ran with meaty juices, and red-braised meats almost glowed with flavor. It wasn¡¯t just meat dishes; plates of stir-fried vegetables lay golden, gray noodles powdered with bright red spices, leafy greens, various buns, and soup dumplings.

    Autumn¡¯s mouth salivated at the sight.

    She wasn¡¯t the only one. While Autumn had been conversing with Floriris and Cahyphopheu, the rest of the eclectic girls had arrived. The first was the familiar face of Lia, the bunny-folk she had met previously. Softly chatting with her was another of her kind. Long gray ears stood in contrast to Lia¡¯s white atop a head of curling gray waves. Her skin was a deep chocolate. Lazy eyes lay half-lidded as she had just awoken.

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s attention, Lia excused herself from conversation with Saphielle and Nethlia and made her way over.

    ¡°Varva meet Autumn; Autumn meet Varva.¡± Lia introduced them.

    The gray-haired bunny-folk smiled tiredly at Autumn.

    ¡°Bonsoir. I am Varva Vesthofn, it¡¯s a pleasure.¡±

    ¡°Oh, likewise. Enchant¨¦e.¡±

    The words spilled forth from Autumn¡¯s lips as if she had spoken their language her entire lifetime. Hearing her words, the pair shared a surprised look before a warm grin grew upon them.

    ¡°Enchant¨¦e. If there is anything you need around here, don¡¯t be afraid to bother Lia.¡±

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    Lia pouted.

    ¡°Let¡¯s take our seats before the food gets cold, shall we?¡± Varva asked.

    As everyone took their seats, Autumn ended up sandwiched between Nethlia on her left and Floriris on her right. Across from her sat Saphielle with another Inferni Autumn hadn¡¯t met yet. Her skin was a light blue, like a sparkling ocean. Dark blue hair fell loosely behind curling ram-like horns.

    She smiled shyly at Autumn.

    ¡°Hello, we haven¡¯t met yet. My name¡¯s Indani.¡±

    The blue-skinned demoness spoke quietly amidst the general conversation in the suddenly noisy dining hall. On her other side, away from Saphielle, was a pink-toned Inferni that Autumn had only briefly met, the masseuse that had loosened up her aching shoulders. They had introduced themself as Nalaia before. The pink-skinned demoness cheerily waved to Autumn as she quietly chatted with the receptionist Stacy beside her.

    Autumn¡¯s gaze traveled to the door as another fantastical woman entered. Nine long orange tails tipped with white flickered lazily behind her as she approached. A Pair of fox-like ears twitched upon a head of messy orange hair. A pink and white kimono with embroidered petals along its hem draped her voluptuous body.

    Slitted green eyes paused upon seeing a dark-haired witch, her expression became nervous only buoyed by the ease of her companions.

    Autumn felt as if she was being sized up.

    ¡°Hello? Are you a new hire? I see Nethlia is back.¡±

    Nethlia smiled and waved at the new arrival.

    ¡°Hey Ren. It¡¯s nice to see you again.¡±

    A sharp smile crested the woman¡¯s mouth as her eyes squinted in happiness or amusement. Autumn coughed slightly to regain attention from the vixen.

    ¡°I¡¯m Witch Autumn. Copper-rank adventurer. Nethlia and I¡¯ve paired up to make a team.¡±

    Slitted green eyes met with dark orbs as she gauged the witch before her.

    ¡°As you just heard, my name is Ren. Trickster and illusionist here at the lovely House of Blooms.¡±

    As she introduced herself, magic flickered into the air and gentle flower petals swirled. Before Autumn could continue her conversation, she was interrupted by the arrival of a dark purple-skinned elf. They¡¯d tied hair the color of fresh snow back in a loose bun. She had rolled up the sleeves of her dress to reveal calloused hands and muscular arms.

    Placing down a pair of carafes full of ciders, she turned to Autumn.

    ¡°I¡¯m Nhilnilee Torana. You can call me Nhil. The rest do. I¡¯m the cook around here, so stay out of my kitchen and we¡¯ll get along fine.¡±

    ¡°Witch Autumn.¡±

    Autumn introduced herself succinctly.

    A loud clap from Nethlia drew everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Is this everyone? Is the madam joining us? What about the two additional guards?¡±

    Stacy spoke up after a moment of silence.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°The madam is swamped with paperwork and she will be eating later. Yacria and Wyslana are on patrol right now. This time is when things can get noisy outside.¡±

    ¡°Well, what are we waiting for? Let¡¯s eat!¡±

    At Saphielle¡¯s hungry cry, the Blooms¡¯ girls and Autumn dug into the beautifully made meals. For the first time in a while, Autumn could relax, surrounded by company. The noise of conversation ebbed and flowed as people grabbed dishes they liked. Occasionally Autumn herself was drawn into conversation about herself or how she found the city.

    Nethlia¡¯s hand brushed against Autumn¡¯s once or twice as they ate. Her touch left Autumn¡¯s skin feeling hot.

    When the lavish meal finally wrapped up, Autumn¡¯s cheeks were aglow with the infused warmth of the exotic drinks. This was the first time she had the chance to drink properly in her seventeen years.

    With her mind abuzz and stomach full, Autumn felt drowsy. Yet before she could excuse herself for some much-needed rest, the bubbly blond elf confronted her.

    ¡°Autumn! The House is going to open for our clients shortly, so you might want to get to the baths first. It¡¯s pretty awesome, you¡¯ll love it.¡±

    Saphielle excitedly dragged a bewildered Autumn towards the exit but before she could escape, one of her long droopy ears was caught in a tight grip by dark purple fingers.

    ¡°Not so fast. You¡¯re cleaning the dishes today.¡±

    Nhilnilee pointed to the dirty dishes still on the table. A few of the other girls were already cleaning up, and Floriris herself was carefully moving cushions back to their piles.

    ¡°But Nhil~, I was going to show Autumn to the bath!¡± Saphielle whined.

    ¡°Umm, I don¡¯t mind helping. Is that ok?¡± Autumn asked.

    Turning to Autumn, Nhilnilee offered a grateful smile.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to, but I¡¯ll take the help all the same.¡±

    Despite Saphielle¡¯s childish protests, cleaning up was not too difficult and didn¡¯t take all that long. Soon she was wandering back down the stairs alongside the group of girls. At the base of the stairs were a pair of female mercenaries, dressed in cloth, leather, and bone armor. One an emerald-skinned Inferni, the other a golden-haired elf.

    ¡°I¡¯ll introduce myself to my juniors. If I don¡¯t see you later, I¡¯ll wake you in the morning,¡± Nethlia said before leaving the group.

    ¡°Oh, ok,¡± Autumn replied.

    With one last disappointed glance, Autumn ventured deeper into the House of Blooms and descended into a vast chamber that made up the basement.

    Carved into the rocky pillar itself, the chambered boasted smoothed down walls like that of a cave. The vaulted ceiling high above was supported by towering pillars evenly spaced along just away from the walls. Beautiful murals of sirens, mermaids, and other mythical sea creatures had been painted amongst the swirling waves all across the high ceiling.

    The bathing pool of the chamber was almost the entire length of the grand chamber, resembling a more flooded cave than any sort of bathhouse Autumn had seen. While the beginning of the pool was shallow, it grew deeper and deeper until one could swim amongst several small rocky islands at the far end. Mystical arcane orbs of golden light floated across the water¡¯s surface like dancing wisps and illuminated the space.

    ¡°Welcome to our grand baths!¡± Saphielle said. ¡°There are a couple of rules. The first rule is that you must shower first. While the pool has cleaning sigils inscribed, it¡¯s still gross.¡±

    Saphielle gestured off to the left, where an open room lay. Fluffy towels lay piled up in cubicles along the wall and many wicker baskets awaited dirty laundry. Several cubicles lined the walls, bearing statues of nude demonesses holding tilted urns aloft. From those urns, clear water ran to cleanse the occupants before vanishing into drains below.

    ¡°Rule number two! No sex in the pool because gross. I know this is a bordello, but we have places for that. Rule number three¡­um¡­I forgot¡­hehe.¡±

    Saphielle rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment.

    ¡°It¡¯s no running. Idiot.¡± Calyphopheu reminded her.

    In response, Saphelle stuck her tongue out at the Vipera before running off and almost slipping on the slick floor.

    Calyphopheu just sighed at the elf¡¯s antics.

    Parting ways Autumn found herself in the changing room. It was mildly embarrassing to be getting naked around people she had only just met, but she had to deal with it in high school, so not that big of a deal.

    Gingerly, she peeled off her newly gained clothes. Her muscles protested the action, as they were still sore from the beating she had taken. Sickly yellow, blue, and black bruises colored Autumn¡¯s pale skin. Imprints of ghostly hands surrounded her neck and limbs where the dead had tried to drag her down. Only her face had escaped unblemished.

    Time was nebulous in the Feywild, and her recollection of it was fuzzy, so she was unsure how long she¡¯d been away from home. Since she¡¯d escaped from it, only three days had passed in this demonland. Certainly not long enough for her injuries to heal, even with the aid of magic.

    Stepping into the shower, Autumn let out a painful hiss as the water splashed across her battered form.

    ¡°Huh? Are you ok? Do you need me to wash your back¡­oh my.¡±

    Saphielle, having heard Autumn¡¯s exclamation, had peeked over at her and upon seeing her bruised body, paused in shock. A flash of concern and sympathy passed across her eyes. Autumn clutched her hands to her chest, hiding within the stall.

    ¡°Umm¡­Are you ok? I heard your story before, but I didn¡¯t realize it. Once you¡¯re done showering, go see Nalaia; she¡¯ll be able to help.¡±

    Blinking back the tears, Autumn let the pristine water flow over her and wash it all away.

    When Autumn left the changing room clad in a soft towel, the rest had already entered the vast bathing pool. Only the pink-skinned Nalaia remained behind and gestured Autumn over to the right-hand side of the entrance, where a massage parlor awaited. Several towel-covered benches sat within, surrounded by shelves of bottles and jars filled with oils or hair and skin care products. Some even radiated magic.

    Autumn had already had the pleasure of a shoulder massage from Nalaia before and she was excited, if a little nervous, about what was to come.

    As warm-oiled hands worked into her tense form, Autumn melted into bliss. Nalaia took special care to tend to her wounds with gentleness or firmness as required. Days and even years of stress vanished as masterful fingers worked their magic.

    ¡°Would you like me to do your hair as well? I can use some hair lotions to straighten it out or use some body-hair removal tonics.¡±

    Autumn groggily stared up at Nalaia as they broke her from her trance.

    ¡°Umm¡­what?¡±

    Nalaia chuckled at Autumn.

    ¡°Would you like your hair treated or your body hair removed? It¡¯s a popular treatment we offer.¡±

    Nalaia gestured to a choice of glowing pots and bottles, undoubtedly the magical kind.

    ¡°Is it permanent? The body hair stuff?¡±

    Nalaia gestured to her own hairless body.

    ¡°As far as I know.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll take it!¡±

    Nalaia giggled at Autumn¡¯s enthusiasm.

    ¡°I¡¯ll let you do your front. Take off as much hair as you are comfortable with.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Six: Morning Practice

    Morning song filtered through closed shutters and window panes to alight upon the ears of a deeply dreaming young woman. A tattered old hat hung upon the bed frame cast in the golden light. Sounds of an awakening city and smells of a morning breakfast crept into the resting witch¡¯s dreams.

    Fleeting things of fire and smoke that slipped between her fingers like quicksilver.

    Autumn had stayed up little after her massage, almost falling asleep on the table. She had taken a dip in the pool alongside the others, but not for long. Now she awoke alongside the tired revelers. She now counted among those who would need to work during the day.

    Her first attempt to venture forth from her bundle of furs was thwarted by the freeze in the air. Duskfields being so far up were subject to severely cold mornings, even with the towering walls that ringed the plateau shielding them. As she drifted back off, surrounded by warmth, a loud knocking came on her door alongside the calls from Nethlia.

    ¡°Rise and shine, Autumn! We¡¯ve got training to do!¡±

    Several more knocks landed upon her door, rattling the frame. Worried that either her door would buckle in or that Nethlia would awaken the other girls who presumably had been working all night, Autumn emerged from her bed and headed towards the door.

    As the door opened, Nethlia was greeted by the glare of an irate witch cocooned in blankets. Silken raven hair spilled across her shoulders and around her eyes. The magical hair shampoos had kept them from tangling in her nighttime tossing and turning.

    ¡°Wuh?¡± was her elegant reply.

    Nethlia just laughed in the face of the evil witch before her.

    ¡°Come on, get dressed. We got a lot of work to do, starting with a morning exercise.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m a caster.¡±

    ¡°Yes, and you¡¯ll be a fit caster when I¡¯m done with you.¡±

    Miraculously, Nethlia was able to prod the zombie-like witch into her adventuring attire without being hexed or cursed in the slightest.

    The hallway outside her room was quiet and cold. The smells of meats, eggs, and baked bread from where Autumn knew the dining hall to be. Before she could make her way through to a morning breakfast, Nethlia stopped her.

    Seeing her look of betrayal, Nethlia chuckled.

    ¡°If you eat now, you¡¯ll just puke. We¡¯ll eat after we exercise and shower.¡±

    With one last longing look at the dining hall door, Autumn followed behind Nethlia till they ended up behind the building in a small walled courtyard. The northern half of the yard consisted of diverse flower gardens that bordered a small building that housed the latrines. The southern section where they found themselves now was dominated by a large meditative sand garden.

    Autumn felt sorry for whoever¡¯s pretty lines they were messing up.

    Turning to face her, Nethlia stood firmly in place, clad in her leathers and furs.

    ¡°All right, first things first, warm-ups. Do you know proper stretches?¡±

    Autumn nodded as a yawn cracked her jaw.

    ¡°Yeah, I know. Do I need to wear all this gear? It¡¯s just going to get sweaty.¡±

    Since she had joined the track and field club, they had relentlessly drilled her on the proper forms for stretching and warming up. So much so that she could probably do them in her sleep, which was handy, as she was only half awake. However, she¡¯d never had to train in a heavy robe and armored boots before.

    Nethlia nodded.

    ¡°You need to get used to wearing your full gear while training, as it¡¯ll be what you¡¯re wearing in a fight. If your clothes are too tight or get in the way, it¡¯s best to find that out now, not when your life¡¯s on the line. For now, we¡¯ll just train without packs. We¡¯ll work up to that later.¡±

    Autumn supposed that made sense, so she just nodded and began her stretches. Her mind awoke slowly as her limbs worked out their kinks. Autumn winced as she bent to touch her toes, while better thanks to the massage and magical healing her body was still recovering.

    Following Nethlia¡¯s example, she began jogging around the small sand garden. As she neared her tenth lap, her breath came out in pants as her body sweated beneath her robe. It was indeed much harder than what she was used to.

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough. Walk off the next lap.¡±

    Nethlia took a spot across from Autumn in the sandy arena as the pair recovered.

    ¡°We¡¯ll do some mock combat to see how well you fight.¡±

    Autumn stared dumbly at the seven-foot-tall behemoth of pure muscle. Nethlia must have outweighed Autumn¡¯s double or even triple over. She was rather lightweight, after all.

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s hesitation, Nethlia gave her a reassuring grin. A sharp canine glinted in the morning sun.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know what I¡¯m doing. Hold up your weapons like you would in a fight.¡±

    With Nethlia¡¯s encouragement, Autumn raised her hands. In her prosthetic-clad right hand, she clutched her old gnarled wand pointed outward towards her imagined enemy. In her left hand, she held onto the iron knife and tucked it close to her body like a viper ready to strike.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    While she had no formal martial arts training, she had a general idea of what to do.

    Twisting to the side, she led with her right foot while firmly planting her left behind at a ninety-degree angle. The side profile would present a smaller target to her enemies, or at least that¡¯s what she hoped.

    Nethlia walked around Autumn¡¯s form, taking in her stance and positioning.

    ¡°Not bad, not bad. You are leaning too far forward and you need to bend your knees and elbow slightly.¡±

    Firm red hands guided Autumn¡¯s body into a more comfortable position. Over a few minutes, Nethlia had Autumn shift from side to side, walking forward and backward, even jumping in random directions until she was satisfied.

    ¡°Alright, now attack me.¡±

    Autumn paused as the words registered in her mind. An incredulous look flashed across her face.

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°I want to see how you fight. That way, we can work on your moves.¡±

    Autumn continued to stare before glancing down at her wickedly sharp knife.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we use wooden training weapons or something?¡±

    Nethlia smirked.

    ¡°First, I don¡¯t want you to get used to something with the wrong weight and second, it¡¯s cute that you think you¡¯ll hurt me.¡±

    Autumn clearly needed to work on her witch¡¯s glare as it simply bounced off of Nethlia¡¯s thick skin.

    Taking a calming breath, Autumn centered herself. Violet magic pooled forth from her hat in an instant to gather within her bent wand. With and held aloft in Nethlia¡¯s direction, Autumn approached, keeping her profile slim.

    Just before Autumn entered striking distance, she unleashed her jinx.

    Like a lightning bolt, the streak of terror jumped across the distance, impacting the red-skinned berserker. Her eyes dilated and her chest seized as the raw fear washed over her body and mind.

    Even expecting it, Nethlia couldn¡¯t help but flinch ever so slightly.

    A grip like iron held Autumn¡¯s hand inches away from a taut abdomen, the knife barely kissing the skin. Experience proved the victor, as despite Autumn¡¯s magic threatening to freeze her in place, the seasoned warrior could react instinctively.

    ¡°Woo, that was a rush.¡± Nethlia grinned. ¡°But you held back, you pulled your strike at the end.¡±

    Autumn huffed.

    ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t want to stab you.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯s a problem we¡¯ll have to fix.¡±

    An incredulous expression stole across Autumn¡¯s face.

    Nethlia took her place across from Autumn whilst shaking out the remnant of fear from her limbs.

    ¡°Again!¡±

    Over the next hour, the sounds of magic and fighting filled the yard. Again and again, Autumn¡¯s body met the sandy floor as she was worked over by Nethlia. Everything from her footwork to where she was looking was critiqued and then improved.

    Autumn was primarily a ranged caster. With her ability to stun opponents for a second, she could give a frontline fighter a window of opportunity to freely devastate.

    All it took to win or lose a fight was a single second of fortune.

    By the time Nethlia had decided they were done for the morning, Autumn felt she had earned a fair number of new bruises. Yet the soreness and the pain felt good thanks in kind to the knowledge she had gained.

    Sweat dripped down her brow amongst her plastered-down hair. As she slumped to the sandy ground, utterly exhausted, Nethlia towered above her, blocking the light. The demoness was barely breathing heavier and hadn¡¯t even broken a sweat yet.

    ¡°Come on. By the time you take a quick shower, breakfast will be ready.¡±

    A pained growl of a ravenous beast ripped into the calm quiet. Autumn clutched her complaining belly in embarrassment, to which Nethlia only chuckled.

    After a quick shower, the pair tramped their way back through the empty halls of the bordello up to the warmth of the dining hall. Alongside the wall that divided the space from the kitchen, several tables had been arrayed and upon them lay a buffet. Autumn spied in her hunger: spiced scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, buttered and toasted slices of bread alongside grains and porridges filled with fruits.

    The only other occupants in the early hours were a bright and cheerful Saphielle and an almost asleep Floriris, her head bobbing as her eyes blinked languidly.

    Soon Autumn and Nethlia joined the pair with multiple plates brimming with food. Initially, Autumn had only grabbed the amount she would ordinarily eat, but Nethlia had practically doubled her portion.

    She had carb-loaded for training before, but not to this extent.

    ¡°Good morning! If I knew you two were going to put on a show, I¡¯d have woken up earlier.¡± Saphielle said.

    Autumn gazed up at the smiling elf with a mouth half full of eggs. After swallowing, she responded.

    ¡°Gee, you¡¯re welcome.¡± Autumn deadpanned, ¡°What are you two even doing up this early? Don¡¯t you two work in the evenings and at night?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll, elves don¡¯t need as much sleep as the rest of you lot and Floriris is an early bird.¡±

    Autumn stared at the half-asleep Noctua. As she watched, Floriris tilted forwards and her face hit the table amongst a plate of cubed meat with a dull thud. A loud chirping snore issued forth as she lay there.

    Saphielle laughed at the sight.

    ¡°Haha, Don¡¯t worry about her, she¡¯s usually drowsy when she wakes up. Plus, we both do more of the singing, poetry, and art side of the business, so we have more flexible work hours.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡±

    The hall quieted down as the now three of them ate only interrupted by a snore or a chirp.

    As she ate, Autumn cast her mind to her magic. Her hat felt lighter as the early morning workout had drained a fair portion of her stores. It was slowly recovering, just based upon her own stress and existential dread, but she¡¯d need another source if she wanted to cast larger magic spells.

    With one hand, she shoveled more bacon into her maw while the other unlatched the heavy Tome of Witchcraft from her new belt on her hip. Bound in iron and faded leather, it rested heavily upon the table. Whatever had once been on its cover had been worn away by time. Now that Autumn had a better grasp on the fabric of magic, she could tell that it was no mundane book. It was steeped in black magic and time.

    ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Saphielle asked as she peered at the tome.

    Nethlia too peeked over at Autumn in curiosity. Although she had seen the book before, she hadn¡¯t gotten much of a glimpse, preferring to allow the witch her privacy.

    ¡°It¡¯s my Tome of Witchcraft. It contains spells, jinxes, and curses of the blackest craft.¡±

    ¡°Ooooh!¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°I haven¡¯t had much time to go over it. I¡¯ve only had it a few days.¡±

    ¡°Oh, oh! Did you find it in that witch¡¯s hut you were telling us about?¡± Saphielle exclaimed.

    Nethlia to the side cocked an eyebrow in interest. Autumn had forgotten that she hadn¡¯t told Nethlia the whole story yet. In all honesty, she simply hadn¡¯t found the time with all the running about they had done yesterday.

    Nervously, Autumn turned to her muscle-bound companion.

    ¡°I was going to tell you later, but I may as well now. Anyway, here¡¯s an abridged version. It all started when I was abducted by the fae¡ª¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Seven: How To Make a Pact

    True to her word, the Tome of Witchcraft lay burdened with all kinds of spells, jinxes, hexes, and curses. Pages upon pages of weathered yellow bore ancient inks that were inscribed in languages few knew.

    To others, it would appear as incomprehensible gibberish and warping images that¡¯d madden the mind, but to Autumn, it was as clear as if she had written it herself. Carefully leafing through the yellowed pages, Autumn searched for spells that might add her to her new career. Although she hadn¡¯t mastered it yet, the only spell she knew was Jinx of Fear.

    Of course, this didn¡¯t include her recipe for healing cream or totem and anti-hex crafts.

    She had briefly looked at the repair charm, but hadn¡¯t had time to learn it. Perhaps now was that time.

    A bulk of the earlier pages comprised spells that overlapped with her jinx, but favored other means of delivery. For example, the spell Touch of Terror had the same effect as her Jinx of Fear, only that she was required to touch her target as its name implied. If she was confined to close quarters, they¡¯d be handy, but she felt it wasn¡¯t wise to narrow her abilities this early on.

    Fearful Sound was the same only with a shout instead.

    As she flicked past the pages to near the middle of the tome, the swirling symbols beat upon Autumn¡¯s mind. Hastily she retreated from the more advanced magics, her psyche not ready for such potent spellcraft. Flicking back, Autumn eventually found three spells she thought would be useful and round-out her repertoire.

    Looking up, she met the glowing orange eyes of Nethlia. While it was ultimately her choice what spells to learn, Nethlia held a wealth of expertise in the adventuring field and it¡¯d be foolish not to consult with her about them.

    Clearing her throat, Autumn broke her gaze away from Nethlia¡¯s as pink dusted her cheeks.

    ¡°U-umm¡­I was wondering if y-you¡¯d¡­I mean, would you l-like to¡­I have some spells I¡¯d like to learn and if it¡¯s ok, can you give me some advice?¡±

    Nethlia blinked down at the stammering witch hidden behind her tattered hat.

    ¡°Sure? I don¡¯t know a lot about spells, but I¡¯ll give it a go.¡±

    ¡°Me too! Me too!¡± Saphielle interjected.

    Autumn took a breath to calm herself and listed off three spells to her awaiting audience.

    ¡°The first one is called Aversion. It conjures magical barriers to briefly deflect blows or missiles. The second is Mind Whisper, which would allow me to send quick messages towards a target I can see. And finally, the third is a spell called Delay Death. The tome says it¡¯ll allow me to stabilize someone on the verge of death for a short time. It doesn¡¯t heal, just¡­delays things.¡±

    Nethlia was silent as she took in the information provided to her.

    ¡°I¡¯d recommend learning Aversion first over Delay Death.¡± she held up a hand to stall Autumn¡¯s question, ¡°While it is definitely handy to have, right now you need ways to stay alive first. Anything else would be no good if you die before you can cast them.¡±

    Autumn nodded silently as she placed a strip of fabric in place of a bookmark on the page.

    ¡°Did you have any other options?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°Yeah, Touch of Terror and Fearful Sound as attack spells, but they are too similar to what I already have to be worth it. Beside them: a repair charm, a plague hex, an illusion spell, and a cleaning spell that looked good.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d advise against trying any plague magic within the city or even the barony, even if you can contain it. I¡¯m pretty sure that one¡¯s on the banned magics list somewhere.¡±

    Autumn nodded. To be perfectly honest, she was more tempted by the cleaning spell: Dirt Dismay. The feeling of being covered in sweat, dirt, and blood was one she could hardly forget, but she agreed with Nethlia¡¯s advice.

    ¡°Do you need anything to learn them? I know Wizards and their like tend to go through a lot of magical paper and ink,¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°I just need time to learn them and to gather some magic to power them.¡±

    Saphielle leaned forward in curiosity.

    ¡°How¡¯d you go about collecting magic?¡±

    Autumn bit her lip in hesitation.

    ¡°Well, I could either head to places that are full of fearful people, but I¡¯d feel that¡¯d be rather dangerous right now or I could make some deals or pacts with people.¡±

    The word pact lingered in the air like a promise, a desire, and a warning.

    It was no ordinary agreement. It was bound by magic. Whomsoever agrees to the conditions would be obligated by magic itself to carry out their end of the bargain or risk wrath untold. Few would willingly agree to such an arrangement unless they were either confident in their terms or desperate enough to risk it.

    A Pact could be comprised of anything: memories, senses, or even one¡¯s lifespan or potential. They were the hag¡¯s bargain or the deals with the devil. Not something to take lightly.

    ¡°If you need power, you can make a pact with me.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Autumn whipped her head over to Nethlia. She stared back with a look of utter trust that rocked Autumn to her core. She had only known this woman for less than a week and she seemed so sure that Autumn wouldn¡¯t fuck her over.

    Autumn¡¯s ears burned under that fiery gaze.

    ¡°This is powerful magic, far beyond what I¡¯m comfortable with. What if I mess up?¡±

    She had too few friends to maim with wayward bargains.

    ¡°Alright, so just a normal deal then. You need fear, right? You can take mine.¡±

    ¡°Yours? I didn¡¯t think you were afraid of anything.¡±

    Nethlia gave Autumn a sad grin.

    ¡°I¡¯m afraid of a lot of things, more than you could know.¡±

    That wasn¡¯t necessarily true. If she wanted, Autumn could use her powers to see, but it didn¡¯t feel right to do so at this moment.

    ¡°Umm¡­I don¡¯t know what to trade for. What would you even want?¡±

    Before Nethlia could answer, a cough from the side interrupted them. Turning to the side, Saphielle looked like she had something to say.

    ¡°Yes?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t mean to tell you how to do your witchery. Is that the word, anyway I think you¡¯re going about this the wrong way.¡±

    Autumn frowned.

    ¡°Wrong how?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re thinking about this like you¡¯re a merchant, buying fear with whatever you have on hand. A witch sounds more like a courtesan.¡±

    Autumn was taken aback. She tried not to take offense given it was Saphielle¡¯s profession, but it was rather hard to do so.

    ¡°Can you explain further?¡±

    ¡°Right, so you¡¯re like, providing a service, right?¡± Saphielle asked, ¡°People come here so they can relax and get rid of their anxiety, whether that¡¯s through sex or just company. It¡¯s the same premise just minus the sex part. Heck, I¡¯d bet you¡¯d even be able to talk the madam into offering your services in the House.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡±

    Autumn hadn¡¯t thought about it that way before. She supposed it made sense. Speaking from experience, nobody wanted to be afraid all the time. However, that still left the problem of what to trade for only in reverse.

    ¡°So I could pay you to take away my fear?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°I guess so, but it kind of feels anticlimactic. I kinda wanted my first time to be special.¡±

    Autumn blushed as she realized what that sounded like. While it was hard to tell with the ruby skin, Autumn could swear that Nethlia¡¯s cheeks darkened.

    ¡°Oh, ho ho~ you want it special, do you? This calls for my expertise. We even have a potion that can give you a¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s enough out of you.¡±

    Nethlia seized Saphielle before she could finish her sentence. Her cheeks were definitely dark now. Vainly the elf struggled against bulging biceps, her mouth covered by a large palm.

    Hiding under her hat, Autumn felt as if she had been lit on fire.

    Gazing shyly up at the behemoth demoness, she had an idea.

    ¡°How about modeling?¡±

    Nethlia and Saphielle stilled.

    ¡°Modeling?¡± They asked at the same time. Saphielle¡¯s words came out muffled.

    Autumn nervously swallowed at the attention.

    ¡°There is an art gallery downstairs, and I was thinking¡­I wouldn¡¯t mind p-painting¡­you?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s words trailed off into a question as she wilted in place.

    The idea had been rattling around in her mind ever since she had gotten her emotional sense. Forever artists have been trying to capture a soul in their art. She¡¯d be a liar if she said she was different. She wanted this more than even magic, to create something that no other could.

    However, Nethlia just looked confused.

    ¡°You want to paint me? But I¡¯m not¡­you know¡­beautiful or anything.¡±

    Autumn took in the towering adonis-like form, scars criss-crossed her exposed flesh like tales unspoken. She cast over the sharp features and the playful curls of hair between the majestic horns. It also reminded her of the vision she had seen of Nethlia¡¯s emotions and soul and couldn¡¯t help but say.

    ¡°You don¡¯t see what I see.¡±

    A subtle quietness enveloped the hall.

    ¡°Do you two need me to leave?¡± Saphielle asked as she broke free of a slackened grip.

    Blushing, the two broke from their trances. Nethlia once again locked Saphielle¡¯s cheeky mouth with one hand before turning back to Autumn.

    ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll model for you then.¡± Nethlia shyly said.

    Nethlia stretched out her larger calloused hand towards Autumn¡¯s, engulfing it. As they struck the deal, Autumn drew forth the creeping bundle of fear nestled deep within Nethlia¡¯s heart.

    Nightmares of loss and failure.

    An exhale left her lungs that she had been holding onto for so long.

    As Autumn drew her hand free, a squirming worm of the blackest purple struggled between pinched fingers. It bucked and writhed, seeking freedom. Unwilling to let it return, Autumn pulled it up and under her hat where it melted into the rest to await use.

    Once again, her hat felt heavy, as if a mountain lay within, but Autumn could bear it.

    Another feeling rose inside of the deal struck. Not bound by the magic of the world, but her craft. Like a nudge, a reminder that she had worked unfinished. There was no time frame nor criteria besides what she had stated, but she could feel that she could pluck at it to see it done.

    ¡°Shall we be away, then?¡± Autumn asked.

    Nethlia flashed an unburdened grin at Autumn, free of fear.

    ¡°Certainly. After you.¡±

    The art studio of the House of Blooms was a well-curated mess. Across the clean walls of this well-lit room were paintings that either clients or the courtesans themselves had painted. Some displayed aesthetically pleasing nudes in soft shades, while others depicted scenes or objects in vibrant colors. Soft lights of floating arcane orbs illuminated the space and could be repositioned at will. Wayward paints had filled in the meandering lines of cracks and crevices upon the polished stone floor, giving it a rainbow of color.

    Stored at the back of the room were numerous props and furniture alongside large amounts of blank canvases atop wooden easels. A table that was covered in dry paints, either spilled or painted deliberately, housed a vast collection of powdered colors and dyes. Various brushes had been cleaned recently and lay in a line; flat, rounded, bristled, tapered, thick, and thin, there was a brush for everything.

    Autumn marveled at the brushes, feeling the horsehair. They were dark, akin to those nightmares she had seen before.

    Deep within her bones, she knew she wanted a set.

    Turning around, Autumn took in her model. The towering barbarian looked out of place within the artist¡¯s arena, shifting from side to side with nerves. This would be a first for the warrior, Autumn mussed. This world was far unlike Earth, where cameras were ubiquitous. She didn¡¯t even know if this world had mirrors beyond the polished bronze she¡¯d found.

    Cracking her neck to the side, Autumn grinned beneath her witch¡¯s hat.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get started, shall we?¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Eight: Soul Art

    ¡°So¡­uh¡­what do I do?¡±

    Nethlia stood nervously within the art studio of the House of Blooms, waiting for Autumn to direct her. Despite having lived in and guarded the bordello for some odd ten years, she somehow had avoided being subjected to being a model for the occupants.

    Autumn contemplated her vision. Even though she¡¯d be mainly using her magical sight, she still wanted to compose the scene properly.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be painting a character portrait. Just let me think for a moment about how I want you to pose.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s a character portrait?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Autumn hummed for a moment as she thought, circling the berserker to gauge an angle she¡¯d like.

    ¡°It¡¯s a style that¡¯ll depict your personality just as much as how you look. For example, as a berserker, I¡¯d want you to look either aggressive or confident, emphasize your muscles and weapon.¡±

    ¡°Oh, okay.¡±

    Nethlia replied as Autumn manipulated her into various poses. One moment Autumn had her looking to the side whilst her body faced Autumn, pole-hammer held towards the floor. In another, she was tilted side on with her head tilted back dominatingly. Again and again Autumn shifted her till Nethlia¡¯s head grew dizzy.

    ¡°There, hold that pose. I think I got it.¡±

    Nethlia stood before Autumn now, her body facing forward but at a slight angle. Her head had been tilted back so that she¡¯d look down domineeringly. One elbow rested upon the head of her pole-hammer as she leaned against it, her other hand clenched into a fist at her side, making her muscles stand out.

    ¡°This kind feels strange.¡±

    ¡°Just relax a bit into it. You need to look confident and relaxed, but still with a bit of tension. Think of it like you¡¯re waiting for a fight to break out or something.¡±

    Nethlia blinked as she wrapped her mind around a familiar concept.

    ¡°Oh, I get it now.¡±

    Suddenly, what had once been a rather awkward pose now coalesced into one of absolute self-assurance and overwhelming danger. The air itself seemed to hold its breath as a fanged grin sprouted upon Nethlia¡¯s lips and butterflies ran havoc in Autumn¡¯s stomach.

    ¡°R-right¡­like that.¡± Autumn squeaked.

    To distract herself, Autumn rushed about the space to direct the hover arcane orbs where she liked. Some she tweaked to cast a soft light across and behind Nethlia¡¯s broad form, while others she strategically placed to cast harder lights to define her muscular body and pick out the details of her apparel.

    ¡°Perfect,¡± Autumn whispered.

    Autumn retreated behind her blank canvas with charcoal pencils in hand. Behind her, in one of the prop chairs, Saphielle plopped herself down alongside a still-dozing Floriris.

    Soft charcoal marks began tentatively appearing on the creamy white. Stroke by stroke they grew more and more confident in their application and started resolving into hard lines and curves of a dense muscular frame. While Autumn was tempted to just create a charcoal drawing of Nethlia, she resisted as this was just to prepare for her magical vision.

    With a few final flecks, Autumn had the proportions of Nethlia laid out and shadows outlined. Now it was time to draw upon her magic and see what colors she¡¯d need.

    Closing her eyes, Autumn submerged herself in the black canvas. A familiar trickle of magic flowed from her hat downwards to pool about her eyes. Opening her eyes, she took in Nethlia before her. Unbeknown to her, as the magic swirled within her eyes, the whites darkened till they were pure orbs of black.

    With open eyes, Autumn took in Nethlia¡¯s multi-hued soul.

    Beside her, a palette of golds, blues, and reds formed infused with magic.

    With confident strokes, the paintbrush caressed the canvas. Flecks of wayward paint gathered upon fingers and pale skin. Time flew by as Autumn fell into a trance, uncaring of anything but the breathtaking image before her.

    Swirls of joy and excitement warmed the ruby-red skin. It glowed upon her pole-hammer and played across her furs. Beads of sweat glistened under a golden glow. The cooler blues of sadness and grief painted the edges and corners of her eyes, contrasting and enhancing the golden light. Burning reds filled out her form and flickered across her eyes, a rage contained.

    More and more Autumn painted. She painted the empty hole where fear once reigned, its edges bleeding with a comforting melancholy and affection. Every emotion had its place in the tapestry of her, flowing together to form the berserker Nethlia.

    An Omen Hammer.

    Taking a step back from the canvas, Autumn relinquished her hold on her magic, the outsides of her eyes becoming white once more.

    Before her stood a painting that brimmed with magic. It radiated the emotions Autumn had painted, giving a glimpse at what she had seen. Few before her had captured such sublimity. It looked so real that one felt they could reach out and feel the heat of the model¡¯s skin, feel the roughness of her furs, or the weight of her gaze.

    Autumn swore that she saw that the painted form of Nethlia was breathing within.

    Blinking away the dots in her eyes, Autumn turned to Nethlia, who was patiently but nervously waiting.

    Autumn applied one last detail to the piece, her artist¡¯s mark. In all her other works, she had simply written her name, but right now she felt like doing something different. In the lower right-hand corner, she made a few swift strokes of black and orange. Much like a Wiccan mark of old, there in the corner sat a dark triangle brimmed with autumnal leaves.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°It¡¯s done.¡±

    Nethlia awoke from her posturing trance. Her wild hair shook as she stretched out her cramped muscles.

    ¡°Really? Can we see?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    Autumn backed away from the painting. Turning around, she saw that while she had been lost in her artistic fugue, Stacy had arrived and now was gazing with interest at her painting alongside Nethlia, Saphielle, and a now awake Floriris.

    ¡°Woah!¡±

    A ripple of surprise and wonderment passed through the group as the full effects of the magic washed over them. Autumn nervously awaited their judgment to the side, absentmindedly she rubbed at the paint upon her fingertips.

    As she stood before the painting, Nethlia bore witness to an unfettered vision of her soul. A self-reflection of her emotions as Autumn saw them. A soft exhalation escaped her lips. She was the one paying to have her fear taken away, but she wondered who exactly gained more from this experience.

    Or perhaps that was the wrong way to look at it.

    A wave of satisfaction washed over Autumn as her deal was completed, like an itch finally scratched.

    ¡°That¡¯s amazing! Look, you can see every ripple of your muscles!¡± Saphielle said to Nethlia.

    As the two marveled at the finished work, Stacy sidled up to Autumn with a keen look in her eye.

    ¡°Do you think you could paint the other girls? Something we could hang up in the foyer? It¡¯d be a great draw for our clients, give them a view of who our girls are.¡±

    Slightly startled, Autumn turned to Stacy and thought about it.

    ¡°We, as in the House of Blooms, would be more than willing to compensate you for your time and efforts.¡±

    Autumn hesitated a moment. Her confidence in her art hadn¡¯t been all that high as she hadn¡¯t sold any before, but this was different. There was magic in it now, literally. It possessed a near-perfect quality that she couldn¡¯t downplay, even in humbleness.

    Still, she spoke about her concerns.

    ¡°I¡¯d have to paint what they are. I can¡¯t lie or hide or even exaggerate anything. It wouldn¡¯t work if I did.¡±

    The thought of changing what was painted from what she could see or omitting parts hadn¡¯t even crossed her mind as she was painting. The clear hole where fear had lived within Nethlia had remained, a wound bare to all.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Honesty wins over more than otherwise. Plus, I¡¯ll let the girls decide if they¡¯re comfortable with hanging them up. This feels more¡­intimate than anything I¡¯ve seen before and trust me I¡¯ve seen a lot.¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t doubt that. Finally, she complied. She needed money after all, as adventuring wasn¡¯t cheap.

    ¡°Alright, I¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°Excellent, what days and times are you free?¡± Stacy asked with a notebook and quill in hand.

    Autumn froze.

    ¡°Um¡­I don¡¯t really know. I think we were going to head on over to the Adventurer''s Guild today, and who knows after that?¡±

    She had forgotten how ignorant she was in all the excitement. Autumn didn¡¯t even know how many days there were in a week, let alone their names. Spying Stacy¡¯s notebook, an idea flashed through her head.

    ¡°Say, do you know anywhere I could get a day planner? I¡¯d make it so much easier to work around if I had one.¡±

    Stacy took in the sheepish-looking witch for a second.

    ¡°Sure do. Head on over to the Scribe¡¯s Guild once you¡¯re done with the Adventurer''s Guild. It¡¯s just across the Guild Square. You can¡¯t miss it. Just look for the symbol of a scroll and ink quill.¡±

    Autumn breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll check it out.¡±

    Autumn turned back to Nethlia, who still stood in contemplation over herself.

    ¡°Nethlia! Shouldn¡¯t we be going?¡±

    Shaken from her thoughts by the call, Nethlia blinked. She stared, confused, before her mind restarted.

    ¡°Oh, yeah right. Let¡¯s head on over to the Guildhall and see if there are any applications for members or any straightforward jobs available.¡±

    She glanced down at Autumn¡¯s paint-covered hands that had left smears wherever she had absentmindedly touched.

    ¡°First, wash up before we go.¡±

    Autumn followed her gaze before blushing as she realized she had been making a mess. Quickly she disappeared out of the gallery, heading for somewhere to wash off, Nethlia lazily following behind.

    Once she¡¯d cleaned off stubborn paints the best she could have, Autumn set off into the bustling city streets alongside Nethlia. In the mid-morning, the streets of the red-light district were relatively calm. Only the occasional tradesperson was cleaning what mess the night before had caused. It was as they moved into the Guild district things picked up. Adventurers entered and exited their guild hall to receive or turn in quests of varying complexity. Scribes in loose robes shuffled bundles of scrolls back and forth between each hall. Merchants in gold and finery counted deals and coins amongst a bevy of hired guards.

    All the while, the subtle sounds of music drifted in as bards played.

    It was, in a word, enthralling.

    The last time Autumn had passed through this space, she had been in a rush, not wanting to be lost within the crowd, and had missed out on checking out the other halls. Now that she had a chance and a desire to find the scribe¡¯s hall, she did so.

    Each hall possessed not only a towering height but a large footprint too, given the compact nature of the city. The Guild district was easily larger than the red-light district and the Alchemist¡¯s row combined.

    Moving further in, Autumn counted eight guilds, nine if you included the massive mage¡¯s tower that loomed over the square from behind the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.

    To her left, as she entered the square, was the Builder¡¯s Guild, denoted by the symbol of crossed hammers upon a shield and wooden border. To her right was the Artisan¡¯s Guild, which boasted a symbol of an anvil, an alchemical flask, and a sewing needle. Next along, tucked back off the main square and closer to the marketplace, was the Performer¡¯s Guild. A rather macabre-looking jester mask with bells included made up their symbol. The open doors allowed mimes, bards, actors, and jesters to play their arts.

    Across from the Performer¡¯s and Artisan¡¯s Guilds was the Farmer¡¯s Guild. Above closed doors, a crest bearing the wavy dust grains lay. If it was anything like home, Autumn imagined the inside to be more like a stock house where trades between farmers took place. Directly across the square was the hall she wanted to find. Without even entering it, Autumn could tell it was a library. She had sense for these things. A waving banner bound to the wall by chains depicted an ancient scroll and the infernal symbols of the Scribe¡¯s Guild.

    As her gaze moved on as she looked anti-clockwise to the next building, one could forgive Autumn for mistaking it for a tavern. The Brewer¡¯s Guild¡¯s crest looked more like that of a tavern. A tapped end of a banded keg held an overflowing mug. Numerous workers hauled barrel after barrel out and across town, and many headed toward the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. The seventh guild was practically gilded in gold. Situated right next to the Adventurer¡¯s hall was the Merchant¡¯s, most likely there to take advantage of whatever treasures or beasts they brought back. Its symbol was a gilded scale, and a fractured crown upon a golden shield.

    Lastly, if one ignored the mage tower, was the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. While Autumn had entered it before, she had missed its symbol outside in her rush. Looking at it now, Autumn saw a shield divided into quarters. In the upper right was a series of mountains, while the bottom left held a windrose compass. The opposing sections only held strips. Place on top of the shield was the amusing sight of a knight¡¯s helm wearing a wizard¡¯s hat.

    A motto read ¡°The journey is the Glory. Also, mind the step.¡±

 Chapter Twenty-Nine: Gather Your Party Pt.1

    ¡°Have you heard? Prices of metals went up again.¡±

    ¡°Again? That¡¯s the third time this month. Bloody Manus. You think a fight¡¯s brewing again?¡±

    ¡°Maybe, maybe. It has been twenty years since the last war ended. We¡¯re due for another one. You¡¯d think those blasted humans would¡¯ve learned by now to stay on their side of the mountains. My son, may Nusraura embrace him, died holding the line.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t we lose one of the border forts?¡±

    ¡°Only because of traitors and incompetents! The Empress should¡¯ve replaced Sentinel Lord Andxus already.¡±

    Autumn listened in on the hubbub of the Guild space as she munched on a bun filled with shredded beef and spice, a local staple. She didn¡¯t know what a Manus was but given that it sounded like they held control or at least a large stake in metals, it was highly likely they were dwarves.

    It was slightly concerning to overhear talks of war both past and future, especially as it appeared humans and demonfolk didn¡¯t get along.

    Finishing her quick meal, she turned to Nethlia. The demoness practically shoved an entire bun in her mouth before leading Autumn into the bustling guild hall that was just as packed as last night. Sliding into an empty booth on the second floor, the two settled into a renewed discussion about the future of their party.

    ¡°So, how many members were we thinking again?¡± Autumn asked.

    Across from her, Nethlia sipped away at a mug of foamy gray-colored beer. Dusk beer, as it was called. Autumn had one too nestled in her hand. It was a cheap beer, at only a few copper served at the massive bar downstairs. Its signature color came from the Duskwheat that this region was famous for.

    While she wasn¡¯t very experienced with alcohol, after a few sips, she could tell this beer wasn¡¯t the best. It wasn¡¯t likely drunk for the taste. It seemed to satisfy the thirsty horde below, though.

    ¡°Hmm, five or six, including us, anymore and it becomes difficult to coordinate unless you know each other well.¡±

    ¡°A best distribution to maximize our talents would be a DPS, a tank, a DPS controller, a recovery support, and a tactical controller.¡± Autumn rattled off.

    Nethlia stared blankly across the table.

    ¡°Dee Pee Ess was me right?¡±

    Autumn blushed.

    ¡°Oh right, sorry. You¡¯d be the attacker as a berserker. A tank is someone who can take a lot of hits, either by using armor or dodging. A DPS controller would be a mage or some sort, some kind of ranged caster. Recovery support is a healer and a tactical controller would be someone who would coordinate allies and interrupt enemies, so that be me.¡±

    ¡°Your dad taught you all that? Must be one hell of an adventurer.¡±

    ¡°He¡­was. He was one of the best.¡±

    Nethlia startled, almost spilling her beer.

    ¡°Shit, sorry. Me and my big mouth.¡±

    Autumn relaxed her white-knuckled grip on her tankard. Taking a breath, she raised her eyes to meet Nethlias. A small fond smile of remembrance graced her lips.

    ¡°It¡¯s ok, he passed away a few years ago. It was cancer. He was great, taught me a lot even when I didn¡¯t want to listen, you know?¡±

    Nethlia nodded as Autumn¡¯s words spilled forth. A bubbling laugh escaped the witch¡¯s throat.

    ¡°He ran his own guild, not like this one. Smaller, maybe a hundred or so, but only like ten or twenty committed members. They raided dungeons, fought dragons and lich-kings, or so he told me. He could have been making things up to make me laugh, but he knew his stuff.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like a hell of a guy.¡±

    Autumn smiled.

    ¡°He was. It was how he met my¡­my mother. She was an adventurer too, but far more casual. Long story short, they fell in love and had me, the best and worst thing that happened to them.¡±

    Autumn blinked back tears.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure that¡¯s not true. The last part, that is.¡± Nethlia¡¯s glowing eyes shone with sympathy. ¡°I don¡¯t know them, but I¡¯m sure they¡¯d be proud of you and happy you¡¯re alive.¡±

    Autumn sniffled as she rubbed her watery eyes upon her robe¡¯s sleeves.

    ¡°Enough about me. We were talking about team members.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure? We can talk some more if you want.¡±

    Emotions and tears were packed away as Autumn resolved herself.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Nethlia sighed before taking a large gulp of her gray beer. With a clack, she placed it back down on the table.

    ¡°The way it works is you can either group up like we did or you can submit a form to the Guild. Then, if another team needs another member, they can head on over to one of the receptionists and ask for a copy. After that, it¡¯s up to the adventurers to see if they are compatible.¡±

    ¡°Sounds handy.¡±

    Nethlia shrugged.

    ¡°Well, the Guild¡¯s been around for thousands of years, so I hope they know what they are doing by now. Anyway, I¡¯ll be right back. I¡¯ll just grab a few different copies.¡±

    Nethlia swiftly retreated from the booth, and before long, returned with pages of parchment in hand. The forms landed on the table as Nethlia joined Autumn on her side so that they both could read at the same time.

    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Autumn took a sip of beer to calm herself.

    Quickly flipping through the pages, Autumn noted that there were two options per role they had defined. Some could fit into other roles, but it didn¡¯t seem optimal to her. After dividing them up into neat piles, Autumn turned to the tanks.

    On one page was the magic image of the minotaur she had seen last night. On the other was one of the bunfolk. Glancing down at the information, Autumn¡¯s eyes lit up when she got to the filled-in races: Taurus and Lepus, respectively.

    Autumn turned to Nethlia after looking over the sheets.

    ¡°The Taurus is a tower-shield user. Do you think that¡¯d fit with our dynamic?¡±

    Nethlia hummed as she pondered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. If it¡¯s sized to him, then it¡¯ll be massive. Taurus can move quickly once they get going, but it¡¯s that initial moment that¡¯s killer. Add on all that weight. On the other hand, he¡¯d make a brilliant cover.¡±

    Autumn picked up the Lepus¡¯ sheet.

    ¡°It says here that they¡¯re a chevalier.¡±

    ¡°That means knight, right?¡±

    Autumn was confused for a moment before realizing once again she had slipped into another language.

    ¡°Right. Do you think they¡¯re a noble or something?¡±

    Nethlia shrugged, unconcerned.

    ¡°If they didn¡¯t write it on their form, then it doesn¡¯t matter. The Guild is open to all unless you break the law.¡±

    ¡°Ok, getting back on track, they¡¯d be a more mobile defense. Static vs reactive defensive. The sword and shield combo is nice. Any thoughts on which you want?¡±

    ¡°No, not yet. Let¡¯s keep going and decide at the end.¡±

    Next up was the DPS controller or mage. One option this time was a bit more contentious. The dryad Autumn had spooked before. The other was a Manus with no gender given. It turned out Autumn¡¯s hunch was right as a bearded dwarf glared out of the page.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just keep it professional. We would ignore the issue but we need to go over this properly, alright?¡± Nethlia softly asked.

    Autumn gritted her teeth. The smell of the Feywild still clung to her nostrils like it had burned the memory into her nose. Taking a deep, calming breath, Autumn cleared her mind of intrusive thoughts.

    ¡°Alright, hit me.¡±

    Nethlia blinked, confused.

    ¡°Uhh, why do you want me to hit you?¡±

    Autumn wanted to facepalm.

    ¡°It¡¯s a saying where I¡¯m from, nevermind it, I¡¯ll just read it. Let¡¯s see, she¡¯s a druid. Will we be traveling where we might need or be able to utilize natural magic a lot?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s mostly cultivated farmlands around here. In the far north and northeastern regions of the barony, you can find a fair number of differing temperate rainforests all along the coast. At the most northern tips, you can find some deep swamplands and along the western and southern coasts, there are some decent hills. Other than that, two large forests border the barony to the south: The Great Covert and The Wild Entanglement, but I don¡¯t imagine we¡¯d be ever going there.¡±

    Autumn tried to wrap her mind around the geography. It sounded to her that this barony was situated on a peninsula of some sort.

    ¡°Does the Scribe¡¯s Guild sell maps?¡±

    ¡°They do. They¡¯re rather expensive, but I see your point. We should buy one later.¡±

    Autumn breathed a secret sigh of relief.

    ¡°What about the Manus? It says here that they¡¯re a runecaster. Do you know much about that?¡±

    ¡°No, not a lot. I¡¯ve never really heard of one leaving their mountains. Given the name, they¡¯ll use runes, most likely carved into some sort of singular use object, but I might be wrong.¡±

    So their options were either a preparation caster who¡¯d have an arsenal of runes or an adaptation caster who¡¯d see them through nature. It was a tough decision without the added complication that came with one choice.

    Turning to the recovery support or healer roles, Autumn saw a familiar face on one page.

    ¡°Hey, isn¡¯t that the alchemist girl? What was her name? Pyre?¡±

    Upon the scribed sheet lay the image of a flaming-haired girl that Autumn had seen just yesterday. What were the odds of that?

    ¡°Hmm, alchemists are rather expensive to maintain, but if they have good recipes, they are well worth the price. They¡¯d also be great at identifying potions or ingredients we come across. What concerns me is how young she looks, but she is a copper-rank, so she must have some experience.¡±

    Pyre had looked only a little younger than Autumn in all fairness, maybe a year or two, however long that was here. She wondered for a moment why she hadn¡¯t been subjected to that kind of scrutiny when she joined up. Maybe it was the hat and the weight of her magic or, most likely, it was the massive berserker vouching for her.

    ¡°Who¡¯s our other contender?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°A priestess of Nusraura.¡±

    A red and white-robed Inferni solemnly gazed up out of the page. Ever since she had first heard the name, Autumn had been both fascinated and fearful of any sort of religious organization. After all, witches and churches historically never got along.

    Nethlia continued.

    ¡°As a devotee of the Goddess of fire, we can expect she is well versed in fire-based prayer alongside healing. Nusraura also holds aspects of war and rebellion, so her followers are more martial focused, but that¡¯s no guarantee.¡±

    So it came down to divine casting vs alchemical preparations. Both had their positives and negatives.

    As Nethlia spread out the two sheets for their pick of the role of rogue, a shocked gasp that turned into an uncharacteristic squeal escaped her.

    ¡°Fiery brimstone! It¡¯s her!¡±

    Stars seemed to twinkle in the berserker¡¯s eyes as she gazed with admiration at one of the sheets. Staring past the awestruck warrior, Autumn got a glimpse of a face, wild hair, and a cheeky grin upon cherry red skin.

    ¡°Liddie ¡®Kraken Eater¡¯ Eastoft.¡± Autumn read out loud. ¡°It says here she¡¯s a pirate? Is that allowed? Also, I think I saw her yesterday.¡±

    Nethlia whipped her head over to Autumn to stare in disbelief.

    ¡°You did! And you didn¡¯t tell me?!¡±

    ¡°We were in a rush and I don¡¯t even know who this is!¡± Autumn defended herself.

    Nethlia¡¯s disbelief grew into astonishment.

    ¡°You don¡¯t?! She¡¯s a hero of the empire.¡±

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s continued ignorance, Nethlia regaled her with her tale, condensed as it was.

    ¡°Back during the last Inferni-human war, she was a privateer who helmed her ship to raid military and merchant ships who were delivering supplies across the seas. Entire fleets sank before her until she ran into a ship killer, the Kraken. The story goes that she was eaten alive as her ship sank. However, rather than be content with dying, she ate her way free of its belly and pierced its heart with a blade she found inside its stomach.¡±

    The tall tale made Autumn look again at the parchment. She couldn¡¯t help but have doubts but it was the kind of thing they said Greek heroes to have done so who knows?

    ¡°Is that how she got her nickname? Kraken Eater?¡±

    ¡°Yup, and given a bestowed name as well.¡±

    Nethlia looked in admiration, awe, and desire.

    ¡°Bestowed name?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s an Inferni thing. We are only given one name when we are born and if you prove yourself and bring honor to the Empire, the Empress will grant you another. It¡¯s a great honor.¡±

    That look of desire flashed upon Nethlia¡¯s features once again.

    Autumn picked up the last page. It bore a striking resemblance to the gnome that had gifted Autumn a gold.

    ¡°Illusio Illusionist?¡±

    Cocking an eyebrow at Nethlia, who remained enthralled by the pirate¡¯s image.

    ¡°Is there any point in going over this one?¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Nethlia gave Autumn a confused look, not having paid attention.

    A sigh left Autumn¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s choose.¡±

 Chapter Thirty: Gather Your Party Pt.2

    ¡°50 gold!¡±

    ¡°I told you they were expensive.¡±

    The pair stood within the entry hall of the Scribe¡¯s Guild. The scent of ink and vellum filled the air as scribes toiled over reams of paper, painstakingly copying text. Honeycomb bookshelves held scrolls upon scrolls of varying quality throughout the halls that could be seen from the entry.

    An older demon stood before them at a small desk. Graying of hair and thick with wrinkles. A small pair of half-moon spectacles perched upon his sharp nose as he stared at Autumn as a copy of a barony map lay before him.

    ¡°The quality is unbeatable. We only sell these to those with Guild licenses.¡± The old demon croaked.

    The detail was exquisite to be fair, with every tree, rock, or hill depicted.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have something a little more simple? We don¡¯t need so much detail, just so we have an idea of where we are going. The major landmarks and towns would be enough.¡±

    The old scribe glared for a moment before sighing, rolling the map back up, and slipping it into a protective case. Moving back over to the shelves, he replaced before retrieving a smaller vellum roll. As the calf-skin was unrolled, Autumn saw a much less detailed map, but it still displayed the basic layout of the barony¡¯s roads, forests, coastlines, and major settlements.

    ¡°10 gold non-negotiable.¡±

    While cheaper, it was still most of the wealth Autumn had on hand. With a wince, she handed over the gold.

    ¡°Do you have any day planners? A calendar? That sort of thing.¡±

    The scribe grunted before fishing around the shelves once again and retrieving a leather-bound notebook. The first half as she flipped through was indeed a calendar, although there were only ten months in total, while the back half was blank for notes.

    ¡°2 gold and that¡¯s already 30% off given it¡¯s already the 4th month.¡±

    The last of Autumn¡¯s gold disappeared into the scribe¡¯s hands. Only a handful of silver and copper remained within Autumn¡¯s deflated coin pouch. Exiting the dusty guild hall, the pair reemerged into the bustling guild district.

    ¡°I could have paid for some of it, you know,¡± Nethlia spoke up.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, I can earn some money later. You keep hold of yours in case we need something.¡± Autumn reassured her.

    As they walked through the city streets, Autumn took a brief look through the months and days. Luckily, before they had left, she had the foresight to ask the scribe to mark today¡¯s date. She simply claimed to have lost track.

    The 7th of Nusraura, 482nd year of the 5th Reign.

    As the 4th month was named after a goddess, it stood to reason in Autumn¡¯s mind that the rest ought to be too.

    In order they were Avros, Ondite, Milanis, Nusraura, Netix, Suthir, Cesuna, Noton, Utia, and Cilene. Every month had 32 days except the last with 33. The lone outlier was labeled ¡°the lightless day¡±, fairly ominous.

    That made 321 days if her math was correct, not too far off of Earth¡¯s 365. That¡¯d make Autumn roughly nineteen and a bit years old on this planet. Not that it mattered in the end, as she still had lived the same amount of time, but it was good to know.

    Different to Earth as well, the months were divided into four, eight-day weeks. The days were named Kinera, Furtho, Maroth, Zetani, Alepho, Nuim, Hellus, and Cejax.

    The 7th of Nusraura fell on a Maroth.

    A rapturous boom that shook the stones beneath her feet interrupted Autumn¡¯s reading. Stumbling, she almost fell but was steadied by Nethlia¡¯s firm hold. Glancing about, Autumn saw they had somehow made it to the Alchemist¡¯s row without her knowing. The pedestrians, while shaken by the explosion, didn¡¯t seem surprised or bothered by it. They continued on their day like normal.

    ¡°Damn it, girl! I told you it was too hot!¡±

    Spilling forth from the entrance of Ember¡¯s Elemental Elixirs, alongside a billowing cloud of multi-hued smoke, were the familiar forms of Ember and Pyre. The pair bickered as they coughed and sputtered behind leather face masks and protective eye goggles, the colorful smoke proving too much for the equipment to handle.

    ¡°And I told you we needed iron shavings, not copper!¡±

    ¡°Iron shavings! Do you think we can afford that?! No, it¡¯s better if we tweak the recipe than give a single copper to those vultures at the Merchant¡¯s Guild!¡±

    Back in the guildhall, Nethlia and Autumn had both agreed upon Pyre being the better pick. While having a priestess around would fill in their religious gap, having an alchemist on hand would be far more worthwhile.

    Something Autumn was doubting as she waited for the smoke to clear.

    Pyre was an Ignis Lutum, a type of elemental being related to fire. Autumn could only guess whether there were other varieties, but it stood to reason that there were. Currently, she was clad in her work attire comprising a black dress trimmed with copper-colored highlights over which she had on a thick leather belt, thick gloves stained with chemicals, and a pair of heavy-duty leather boots.

    ¡°Excuse me, is this a bad time?¡± Autumn called out to the pair.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    The two spun about to face Autumn, having not noticed their presence before.

    ¡°Huh, oh yes, a bad time. The store is closed for renovations.¡±

    Another rumbling pop from within the building sent out a wave of sparkling smoke, sending the group retreating away.

    ¡°Hmm, it wasn¡¯t supposed to do that. Anyway, come back another time.¡±

    Nethlia stepped forward with a copy of Pyre¡¯s guild form in hand.

    ¡°We¡¯re here for Pyre. We¡¯re forming a team, you see, and we were hoping to interview her for a role.¡±

    Seeing the guild logo, Ember scowled before turning to Pyre, who jutted out her chin in defiance.

    ¡°Bah. I see you haven¡¯t changed your mind. Go on then, get. I¡¯ll clean this mess up again.¡±

    The acrid billowing smoke tickled the back of Autumn¡¯s throat, causing her to cough. Turning to a delighted and nervous Pyre, Autumn gestured back out the way they had come.

    ¡°Do you mind if we talk elsewhere, away from all this smoke?¡±

    ¡°What? Oh sure, there¡¯s a nice little cafe just at the end of the street.¡±

    Soon, the trio found themselves situated in a rather small shop selling teas and cakes. Sitting themselves down, Nethlia started the interview as she was nominated (by Autumn) as the team captain since she was the highest rank right now.

    ¡°First, my name¡¯s Nethlia, and I¡¯m gold-rank. Beside me is Autumn. She¡¯s a copper-rank like yourself. We¡¯ll ask a couple of questions first, then you can ask some. If we all think we¡¯re a good fit, we¡¯ll register at the guild in the afternoon, happy?¡±

    Pyre held up her hand in question.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Is it just the three of us?¡±

    ¡°No, we have three other candidates to form a party of six. My first question is, will you be able to brew or provide health potions? We¡¯ll allocate you gold and ingredients from party funds to cover it as necessary.¡±

    ¡°Yes, that¡¯s an easy recipe. It just takes specific ingredients. I can brew a few minor healing potions in the field if I have the right equipment.¡±

    There was a confidence in her posture that was hard to fake. It reassured Autumn that the girl knew what she was talking about. It was their one major concern regarding choosing her over the priestess, who would definitely have healing prayers.

    ¡°What kinds of potions can you craft?¡± Autumn asked this time.

    Pyre held up her fingers as she counted.

    ¡°I can craft most things in my dad¡¯s shop: health and stamina potions, hangover cures, burn ointments, basic soaps both for organic and non-organic uses, Alchemist¡¯s fire, and a few various antidotes. Plus, I know most plants and ingredients in and around the barony.¡±

    Nethlia looked impressed and satisfied with her current abilities.

    ¡°Aside from the distribution of funds and loot, which we¡¯ll cover once the full team is gathered, I think that¡¯s it. Autumn, did you have anything else?¡±

    Autumn shook her head.

    ¡°I¡¯m happy. Do you have any questions, Pyre?¡±

    ¡°I have one. Are we expecting to travel far? Or are we operating mainly out of Duskfields?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be based here in the city unless things change later down the line, but we¡¯ll discuss it as a group if that happens.¡±

    Pyre took a deep breath as she took in the situation before her. It was an opportunity that she had been waiting for, a place to test her potions and improve upon them while not running the risk of blowing up her laboratory again. But it was a lot. Almost overwhelming still, she resolved herself, the flame upon her head grew brighter.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m in. Where and when are we meeting?¡±

    Nethlia cracked a toothy smile at the steel in her voice.

    ¡°At the Adventurer''s Guild in the afternoon, don¡¯t be late, and make sure to bring your ID.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Well, hello you two beauties, if this is about the gold I owe we can talk this out all civil-like.¡±

    Lounging before Autumn was cherry-red-skinned Inferni dressed in the regalia of a pirate. Tattoos of all manner of sea creatures displayed themselves upon her skin. Classic knee-high leather boots patterned with brass metals were crossed over as they rested on a low table. Her narrow hips and thighs were clad in tight gray and white vertical striped pants While a billowing shoulderless white blouse left her narrow shoulders exposed, it barely covered her small chest, and the material was thin enough that Autumn could see she wasn¡¯t wearing anything under it.

    Off to the side, a long leather coat lay limp alongside a fancy-looking belt holding a sheathed cutlass and dagger. The only thing missing to complete her look was a hat.

    Here within the Drunken Devil Inn sat the Kraken Eater herself, Liddie Eastoft.

    After parting ways with Pyre, the pair had made their way to this particular tavern as this was where two other members had listed as their current residence. The Drunken Devil Inn was unlike anything Autumn had seen before, a towering pagoda-like building. It rose higher into the skyline than most others around.

    In the early noon rush, it was packed with patrons, the smell of meat and ale heavy in the air.

    Nethlia stood star-struck before her hero, words locked up in her throat.

    ¡°Come now, there¡¯s no need for such fine women to stand about. Let¡¯s have a toast together before whatever violence must be done.¡±

    The words fell from battle-scarred lips. The r¡¯s rolled off the tongue in a subtle melody. A hint of gold flashed upon her tongue as she spoke, a piercing to match those that dangled from her lips or upon her brow. Her earrings swayed as she took a swing from her mug with eyes still trained on the two of them.

    Seeing as Nethlia was taking a backseat for this conversation, Autumn stepped up even though she didn¡¯t want to.

    ¡°We¡¯re not debt collectors or anything like that. We¡¯re here about forming a team. My name¡¯s Autumn, this is Nethlia. We got your application from the guild and were wondering if you were still interested, as well as seeing if you¡¯d be a good fit.¡±

    A beautiful smile bloomed upon the pirate¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Well, why didn¡¯t you say so? My, where are my manners? Liddie ¡®Kraken Eater¡¯ Eastoft at your service.¡±

    The pirate jumped to her feet in an instant and gave them a sweeping bow without spilling a drop from her mug. As she did so, a high-pitched squeak escaped from Nethlia. Liddie cast a curious gaze upon the mostly silent berserker.

    Turning to Autumn, she mock-whispered.

    ¡°Say, what¡¯s up with your friend? Are they the strong, silent type?¡±

    Autumn sighed.

    ¡°No, not usually. She said she¡¯s a fan of yours. I think you might be her hero or something.¡±

    Liddie straightened up upon hearing her and flashed a bright smile. Nethlia, face flushed, just nodded rapidly as she tried to contain herself.

    ¡°Well, to answer your earlier question; yes I am still interested in a team-up.¡± Along with a charming smile, a twinkle of mischief appeared in her eye. ¡°So, a threesome. It¡¯s been a bit, but I just need to stretch out first.¡±

    She wiggled a gold studded eyebrow as she spoke. Heat flashed upon Autumn¡¯s face and burned her ears red.

    ¡°What?! No, it¡¯ll be a party of six!¡±

    Liddie smirked.

    ¡°Ambitious but I like it.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-One: Gather Your Party Pt.3

    Incense smoke lingered in the air as it covered the heady stench of ales and beers within the Drunken Devil Inn. Patrons crowded the bar, so much so that Autumn had a hard time finding their next team member. Eventually, with the help of Nethlia, with her height and ability to push people out of the way, she pressed her way forward to the front.

    The bar here was much simpler than the Adventurer¡¯s hall, just a long wooden thing overflowing with mugs of beers, ales, ciders, and whiskeys.

    At the bar sat a heavily bearded individual drinking a rich silver whiskey that was almost translucent from a carved stone bottle. At only four-feet-tall, they were almost as broad as they were tall. A thick mane of dark hair blended down with a braided beard that hung down to their waist, leaving only a thick nose, ruddy cheeks, and a set of piercing icy blue eyes free.

    Beads of bone carved with blocky runes made of crushed gemstones had been woven into the braids of their beard and hair.

    Unlike anyone else Autumn had seen so far, the Manus wore some sort of steel chainmail armor overtop of leather and silk. A thick woolen robe draped across their form, protecting that steel from the elements and wayward eyes. A belt of heavy leather girded their waist to hold on to a patterned steel mace, the head crafted to look like a large gemstone. Thick leather boots capped in a steel toe dangled above the ground as their owner sat on a stool not meant for their kind.

    Metal was a rare thing around these parts. Just today, she had heard the price had gone up again. Who knows how much steel armor would cost?

    Approaching the bar, Autumn opened her mouth to inquire if they were Edywn Brawnbeard, the silver-rank runecaster they were looking for, but before she could do so, she was interrupted.

    ¡°Ah recognize ye, ye¡¯r that dunderheided witch gawking at everything.¡±

    Even with her ability to understand every language, she still had a hard time telling what the Manus was saying. Even so, she recalled almost crashing into a grumpy Manus the day before when she was distracted by the disappearing gnomish fellow.

    ¡°Sorry about that. Are you Edwyn Brawnbeard?¡±

    ¡°A¡¯m, whit¡¯s it tae ye?¡±

    In their seat, the surly Manus had swiveled to face Autumn taking in the witch and Nethlia looming behind her. They didn¡¯t look intimidated much, only wary in the same way Liddie had been. Autumn had to wonder if they looked like debt collectors.

    Pushing the thought away, Autumn smiled at them as best she could.

    ¡°I¡¯m here about forming a team. You registered an application at the Guild, we just wanted to ask a few questions and tell you we¡¯re hosting a meeting this afternoon.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯ll be free whiskey and beer,¡± Nethlia added.

    That seemed to attract Edwyn¡¯s attention as a bushy eyebrow disappeared into their mane.

    ¡°Ye shuid hae led with that.¡±

    After polishing off their current bottle of whiskey, Edwyn hopped off their stool and began making their way out of the inn, swearing in whatever language their people spoke at those in their way.

    ¡°C¡¯moan, ah ain¡¯t missing oot oan free whiskey!¡± they yelled back at the bemused pair.

    Nethlia and Autumn shared a look before exiting the inn as well, not before collecting Liddie along the way, much to Nethlia¡¯s excitement.

    The last member of their team was awaiting them as they returned to the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. They had been staying in the northeastern sections of the city that comprised the noble districts and high-end establishments. Rather than crossing half the city and dealing with the increased scrutiny, they had used a few of Nethlia¡¯s guild credits to hire a runner to pass on an invitation.

    Nelva Blondus ¡®la Brave¡¯ was a Lepus knight. Not including her ears, the dark-skinned woman stood roughly around Autumn¡¯s height. They had dark gray hair cut short down to her chin on the sides and back while her fringe was clean and straight. They equipped their muscular and lithe body with Agoroth horn plate armor over iron chainmail and a silken gambeson. At her side, a masterfully crafted iron sword hung and slung over her back was a bone and wood kite shield.

    Without her helmet on, her heart-shaped face was visible, and warm bronze eyes held a touch of nobility to them. As she entered the private room Nethlia had rented, she greeted them warmly.

    ¡°Bonjour, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡±

    Nelva saluted, one armored fist meeting her breast as she bowed slightly.

    Nethlia was the first to respond.

    ¡°Welcome, come in. If you have any questions, feel free to ask, otherwise help yourself to some drinks or snacks.¡±

    Alongside the private room, Nethlia had purchased a fair few drinks and snacks for the meeting. On the central table stood carafes of purple cider and glasses, a small barrel of Duskbeer, and stone bottles of Caskbringer brew whiskey. For food, she had ordered a variety of crispy meats, cheeses, and roasted vegetables already pierced with toothpicks.

    Food softened any atmosphere, not that Autumn expected any sort of conflict. So far, everyone they had met seemed receptive to the idea of working in a team with them. Now it was just hashing out the details and letting everyone meet.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    Before too long, the rest of those they had contacted trickled in.

    Nethlia sat at the head of the table while Autumn, Edwyn, Nelva, Liddie, and Pyre occupied the sides, awaiting her to speak. She had overcome her awestruck nature for the moment, but every once in a while her gaze would flicker over to the relaxing pirate.

    ¡°Welcome everyone, seeing as we have introduced everyone to one another, let¡¯s get this started, shall we? First, are there any objections to me being the captain?¡± Seeing as there wasn¡¯t, she carried on, ¡°Second point then, loot distribution.¡±

    Everyone around the table perked up at the mention. Autumn wasn¡¯t immune either, as she was currently broke.

    ¡°I propose we set up a party account with the Guild to house our funds, besides what we carry with us. 30% of any gold received as a party, whether it be from contract or sales, will be deposited within to be used for anything that the party would need. This will include potions and ingredients for our spellcasters and crafters, weapon and armor repairs, basic food, lodgings, etc. Any Items found will be distributed fairly to those who need them. We can discuss this as and when needed.¡±

    Nethlia paused as she looked around to see if anyone had any objections.

    ¡°Any questions before we move on?¡±

    Pyre raised her hand in the silence.

    ¡°Are we renting a party room in the hall or are we all sticking to our lodgings?¡±

    ¡°I think we¡¯ll stick to our own for the time being. To that point, we¡¯ll all meet up at sunrise to go over training. As we live close to you Pyre, Autumn and I will pick you up. I have enough guild credits stored to rent out some training rooms either in the hall or down on the grounds outside the city. Next question?¡±

    Autumn spoke up next, as there was something on her mind. Given that the party would travel together for at least the near future, she thought it wise and fair to explain the dangers.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a question but more of a¡­warning? I have additional information that I should make you aware of if you wish to join our team. Without going too far into details, I believe I¡¯m being targeted by some fae creatures. We¡¯ve already been attacked by redcaps once before.¡±

    Liddie whistled in surprise and admiration.

    ¡°You must¡¯ve done something interesting to piss them off.¡±

    The missing fingers on Autumn¡¯s hand twitched in a phantom pain at the remembrance. Shadows flickered beneath her black hat, enshrouding her eyes in darkness.

    ¡°I escaped them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll do it.¡±

    ¡°So what does that mean?¡± Pyre asked.

    ¡°A¡¯ it means that we keep edgy fur danger,¡± Edwyn grumbled into their drink.

    Pyre just looked confused, unable to parse their accent.

    Clearing her throat, Nethlia called for attention.

    ¡°Does anybody else have any hidden dangers we might wish to be aware of? I¡¯m not asking for secrets or anything like that. I just want to know if we need to be wary of anyone, place, or thing.¡±

    The atmosphere turned awkward as everyone cast about the room. Nobody besides Autumn either had beings after them or simply didn¡¯t wish to disclose it. Autumn understood the sentiment. She too was weary of revealing what she did, but it felt right to do so.

    That brought to mind her other secrets: her world-hopping and her abilities. She¡¯d have to tell them about her magic anyway, but not yet. Telling others she could read their emotions without their consent might turn them off the party before it even began.

    Liddie ventured a hand into the conversation. ¡°I¡¯ve just got a few human bounty hunters after me. The Letorum and Eaglmund Empires never rescinded their bounties after the war.¡± Her gaze flickered over to Autumn, the only human in the group, ¡°that¡¯s not a problem is it?¡±

    All eyes swung to Autumn, making her instinctively shrink in her seat.

    ¡°N-no¡­I¡¯m not from those nations.¡±

    Liddie smiled.

    ¡°That¡¯s a relief. I wouldn¡¯t like to be hated by such an¡­interesting girl.¡±

    Nethlia cleared her throat once more to wrangle the conversation back on course. While the meeting so far had been short, it still was a lot to get through, especially for those not inclined to such, even ones as casual as this.

    ¡°One last point of order: a name. Does anyone have any good ideas, even if only temporary?¡±

    The group pondered for a while in silence. They didn¡¯t know each other well enough yet or have a central theme or a goal they shared, so the ideas they gave tended to be either generic or didn¡¯t fit. In the end, they settled on the temporary name of ¡°the Dusk Wolves.¡± It¡¯d probably change as they established themselves, but for now it worked well enough. With only a brief stopover to the registration office, their team was finally formed.

    Before they departed, Nethlia got a small deposit from the other members to acquire camp supplies and other provisions, as well as checking in on Kira: the unofficial seventh member of the party. The Agoroth was living well within the city¡¯s stables.

    Nethlia had to practically drag Autumn away from the Cerberus puppy that she had found. It was simply adorable. Its three heads were far too much weight for its little body and so whenever it tried to run, it just ended up tripping over its fluffy paws.

    The next few days proved to be both busy and hellish. In the early hours of the morning, before the sun had even crested the sky with any hints of gold or pink, Nethlia dragged Autumn from the comforts of her bed and out into the harsh coldness. She had pushed Autumn to her limits in warm-ups and drills till the sun came up. After a quick breakfast, they were off and out of the district.

    True to her word, Nethlia collected a sleepy-eyed Pyre and ushered them to the Guildhall, where she had booked one of the training rooms.

    Autumn had thought that Nethlia had pushed her before, but this was on a whole new level. She ran the group through drills from combat exercises to teamwork-building challenges. She didn¡¯t even spare her idol. On the contrary, she seemed determined to push Liddie even harder than the rest. The pirate could keep up with Nethlia somehow despite being nowhere near as big.

    As she was the tactician of the group, it was up to Autumn to learn how to coordinate the group in a combat situation. That¡¯s where her newly learned spell, ¡°Mind Whisper,¡± came in handy. It allowed her to send orders at the speed of thought to anyone she could see. The biggest advantage of it was nobody else could hear it, so they would catch enemies unaware as the battle lines shifted.

    The group formation was rather simple: Nethlia and Liddie would take the front while the casters would hang back. They would station Nelva between them so that she was ready to quickly defend either group from attack.

    Most of Pyre¡¯s potions were meant to be used before or after a battle. Only her Alchemist¡¯s Fire was useful during but the girl swore she¡¯d be researching more combat potions.

    Edwyn had a vast quantity of runes based around combat and even some that could serve other means in a pinch. Being a silver rank, they had more experience than Autumn and Pyre, who¡¯d just started their magical and alchemical journeys.

    Under Captain Nethlia¡¯s harsh training regime, they were forming up to be a formidable team.

 Chapter Thirty-Two: Finger Eater Mildred

    Foxcurl stared out of her bramble cage in absolute fear. Her heart didn¡¯t even dare to beat lest it draw the attention of what lurked and defiled outside. Thorns pierced her delicate skin, allowing blood to drip and dribble freely, but she hardly noticed.

    A black cauldron bubbled and burst as it sat within the lair, emitting a foul aroma that mingled with the ever-present stretch of rotten plant matter and decay. Within the cauldron a dreadful soup cooked filled with humanoid eyes that floated and rolled, fish head almost putrescent, and screams of mortal dreams, broken and twisted.

    Meat hung upon jagged hooks about the room but they were of no beast. Limbs and body parts of people far too damaged to be recognized were feasted upon by flies, their maggots wiggled and writhed.

    What foul creature could do such a thing?

    What foulness would find its home amongst such decay?

    Foxcurl could tell you, but she wished, oh how she wished, she couldn¡¯t.

    Moving about the pot of horror was a hunched figure. It was old, perhaps older than the very swamps it haunted.

    Bloated was its body, as if it¡¯d died in the swamps already. Powerful legs twisted back on themselves like a wolf¡¯s might as the figure staggered about the room. It poured more evil into the bubbling brew. Corded muscle filled out arms that were longer than they should be, almost reaching the ground. At the ends, clawed hands grasped onto the metal of the cauldron and a howl of tormented metal echoed around the chamber in protest.

    Foxcurl¡¯s innocent eyes were spared a horrifying sight as the creature¡¯s grotesque body was bound in stained rags and hide. A grimy sackcloth hood masked its visage. Three holes tore the sack to form a grim-eyed smile. When it approached Foxcurl imprisonment, she saw that the fabric it wore was not cloth or animal hide. It was a patchwork of multi-hued skin.

    Foxcurl resisted the urge to quail in fright at the sight of the Swamp Hag.

    ¡°Where is it? Where is it?¡±

    The Hag bemoaned in a voice of phlegm and spite.

    ¡°Where did I put that damn thing? Ah, there it is.¡±

    From a cluttered shelf full of mysterious and equally horrifying contents, she retrieved a cracked and blood-smeared jar full of body parts of the masculine variety.

    ¡°Mmm, my favorite snack, full of impotency and foolish bravado. I can almost taste the screams again.¡±

    The hag smacked her lips as she chewed on the pride of many men.

    ¡°Thou art still disgusting as ever, Mildred.¡±

    The hag spun about in fury as a silken voice appeared in the space behind her. Bottles and jars scattered as she flung her claws out in anger at whoever dared intrude upon her domain.

    ¡°Temper, temper. Taketh care, lest thee breaketh the rules of hospitality.¡±

    From her thorny entanglement, Foxcurl had the unfortunate pleasure of gazing upon the visage of that which disturbed the hag¡¯s repast.

    There stood a dream with eyes like summer and full of love. A wild mane of hair the color of a dying sun encased a breathtaking reflection. Lips of blood on tan skin. Glittering gold flowed across a body of virtue, envy to all things feminine. A sight to draw rapine eyes. Perfection was she, like a midsummer¡¯s love, but for a single mar upon her hand. Two fingers lay vanished from her left, bitten clean off by cruel hunger.

    Foxcurl was utterly terrified, more so than what the hag had inspired.

    ¡°And what does the Fair Maiden want with wise, old Mildred?¡±

    The hag sneered as she crept around her hut with hungry eyes.

    The Fair Maiden watched her prowl unconcerned, aloof even.

    ¡°To maketh a deal, of course.¡±

    Mildred, the hag of a hundred thousand twisted deals, stilled before a wracking laugh ripped free of her befouled throat. She howled in amusement in the Summer Fae¡¯s face, not caring for insult.

    A small frown crested the Fair Maiden¡¯s face as madness flashed behind beautiful eyes. She waited for the hag to finish her amusement.

    ¡°Make a deal? Haha, that¡¯s a good one. Don¡¯t insult me to presume either of us would be that kind of fool.¡±

    ¡°Not even a dram interested?¡± The Fair Maiden asked.

    Mildred snarled as she saw the trap within the words, but she now knew whatever offer the fae had, it would tempt her. The hag paced, muttering wicked curses under her breath as the fae watched.

    Foxcurl dared not a whisper of movement.

    With a snarl of contempt and annoyance, Mildred turned back to the nonplussed fae.

    ¡°Fine, speak your words so that we might end this charade.¡±

    The Fair Maiden smiled in delight.

    ¡°Thither is a young wench I wanteth, a witch most fair. Draweth that girl from cold-iron and stone, but doth not killeth that lady, for the wench is mine.¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Ha. All this for a baby witch? Forget it!¡±

    Hildred snarled once more. However, as she turned away, the Fair Maiden spoke once more.

    ¡°Doth thee not wanteth to knoweth who is¡¯t did teach that lady the blackcraft?¡±

    Mildred froze in place as the words struck true. Names flashed through her tainted mind of witches foul and fair, but only one name bore into her with a burning fire. Eyes of melting malice peeked through twin eye holes in her skin hood towards the Fair Maiden.

    She spoke only one word.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    The Fair Maiden smiled a smile of sharp teeth as she bathed in the cruelness she was about to strike.

    ¡°Witch Augus.¡±

    A roar of purest anger and hate ripped free from the hag and echoed within her home. The hag grasped the scalding metal of her cauldron, uncaring of her sizzling flesh, and hurled the pot into the far wall in her rage.

    The fae watched it all unfurl with sadistic glee.

    Mildred stomped around the hut, smashing what her clawed hands could grasp, yet not once did she attempt to harm the Fair Maiden or what was around her. She paced like a caged tiger until she could voice words once more. They tore free like a wound.

    ¡°Speak then. Speak! Speak! Speak! Say your words, speak them true. Why should I give them to you? Why should I not tear and eat her young flesh?! Why should I not suck the marrow from her bones?! Why. Should. I. Not?¡±

    The Fair Maiden spoke with a sinister calm.

    ¡°Thee shouldst not, for the maiden is mine.¡±

    Madness met madness. Swirling and snarling.

    ¡°If it be true that thee doth do so, thee can has¡¯t that lady booketh.¡±

    ¡°Book?¡±

    Mildred squinted at the fae from behind her sackcloth. There was only one book that she could ever crave, yet she wouldn¡¯t take the fae¡¯s word for it. That way only led to foolishness and madness.

    ¡°What book? Speak its name, make no fool of me, fae. I make a troublesome foe, even for the likes of you.¡±

    The Fair Maiden sneered.

    ¡°The Tome of Witchcraft, Witch Augus¡¯ Magnum opus.¡±

    A glint of avarice wormed its way through Mildred¡¯s skull, yet caution bubbled there too. The one thing she desired above all else and this fae happened to know its location and some waif of a girl was its only guard?

    It smelled of trickery.

    ¡°If you cannot reach the girl, what makes you think I might?¡±

    ¡°As I hath said, the lady is enshielf within cold-iron and stone. The wench is cunning, clever, if ¡®t be true I maketh a moveth outside her walls, the lady¡¯ll nev¡¯r leaveth but the lady is homesick and fell. Findeth a way to leverage yon wench¡¯s desires and the lady¡¯ll cometh right into thy trap. Hand¡¯th that witch over to me, alive and intact, and thee can keepeth the tome.¡±

    ¡°And what if I say no? What if I hunt the girl myself and take the tome anyway?¡±

    The Fair Maiden grinned.

    ¡°Tryeth and the tome¡¯ll be hath lost forevermore. Thee swear¡¯th by Tatiana¡¯s and Oberon¡¯s names both.¡±

    The world and Foxcurl both shivered as they spoke out loud the two names. They had made a pact into the very essence of reality. The Fair Maiden would forever be bound to uphold her end or be removed from past, present, and future.

    Mildred hesitated as she realized the Summer Fae was deadly serious and it made her even more nervous, even more aware that despite all her years and cunning, she might have walked into a trap. But for whom?

    As much as she wished to step away from its gaping maw, the best traps have the best bait. So she took the chance. She stepped into the trap and hoped it wouldn¡¯t clamp shut around her.

    ¡°Fine. I will make your deal. One witch, alive and intact in exchange, I keep the Tome of Witchcraft with no interference from you in any shape or form, including inaction. Deal?¡±

    ¡°The same goeth for thee or anyone thee contract wilt not allow harm to befall the wench through action or inaction.¡±

    The two monsters sized one another up beneath Foxcurl¡¯s frightened gaze, an observer to a horrid deal. If she were free, she¡¯d flee and warn this witch, warn her of what¡¯s coming, but she could not, bound as she was.

    ¡°Deal.¡± ¡°Deal.¡±

    The bargain had been struck and the world and black magic sealed it.

    In a blink, the fae vanished, leaving a dreadful hag in a destroyed room.

    ¡°How to lure a child?¡± Mildred cackled to herself as she shuffled about the room righting furniture she had destroyed, not that it was much worse in this state.

    ¡°Perhaps she might like candy?¡±

    The hag plucked the swollen testicles off the floor before popping them in her mouth. Chewing them in her mouth of black teeth, she thought long and hard about it. An idea began forming inside her twisted mind.

    ¡°Homesick, huh? Perhaps a way home will draw her in?¡±

    ¡°Mildred shuffled her body over to a rack of scrolls, blood-stained by their former owners. Scrolls of all kinds lay on the dirty table, scrolls of power, of flight, even teleportation. The hag plucked out a scroll that radiated pure magic.

    ¡°Dimensional Passage? Pity one still needs an object tuned to the destination, useless otherwise, pah.¡±

    The hag tossed the scroll back before gazing out her window.

    ¡°Mmmh, maybe an adventure might lure her. One of heroics and vengeance?¡±

    Foxcurl followed the hag¡¯s gaze outside to where the tantalizing sight of freedom lay. The hag¡¯s sinister home was within a bog of endless murk and bloated pools. All manner of waterborne insects and diseases call these waters home. The sounds of monsters filled the air with their croaks and violent hisses.

    Off in the distance, close to the hag¡¯s home, was a cluster of mangrove trees, but these soared far higher into the sky as if trying to reach out of the fetid swamps.

    However, it was not to be as these titans were dead, parasitized by the foul works of goblins. Like great leeches, their homes clung to the carcasses of the once proud rulers of the ground and sky. The poxy keep was made with no rhyme or reason. Ramshackle buildings of dismal quality stacked on top of one another as they crept up the surrounding trees. Cramped walkways criss-crossed overhead in a maze of impracticality.

    But impracticality wasn¡¯t the only thing they had done to befoul this earth. Strung up like morbid decorations were the ruined bodies of many varying humanoids, from Inferni with their horns removed to Lepus, with ears torn off at the root. Over and over the bloodstained keep, more evil was displayed. The only solace to be had was that red-caps possess no libido besides a lust for murder and bloodshed.

    ¡°Hmm, they¡¯ll do nicely. A little carnage and those pesky adventurers will come running, hehe. It wouldn¡¯t hurt to plant some rumors about dimensional magic here and there. Hehe.¡±

    The hag cackled to herself as she gazed at the viscous goblins beyond. Long had they nestled here, hidden as they were in the fetid swamps and preying only on those foolish to wander away from their homes and camps. Their only mistake was living next to a hag, even if they liked her stew.

    The hag turned her eye back into the room to gaze straight at Foxcurl.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare think I forgot about you! Nosey little spy.¡±

    Foxcurl screamed.

 Chapter Thirty-Three: Mission One, The Goblin Hunt

    Four days had passed by Autumn in a flash.

    In the mornings, she¡¯d trained with her team until noon, then broke for a quick lunch before they¡¯d take on a few low-ranking missions around the city. The missions mainly comprised either running messages around the city, searching for lost pets, of which there were a surprising number, or hunting down R.O.U.S. (rats of unusual size) in the sewers.

    Oh yes, the city had sewers, intricate ones at that.

    Built throughout the rocky pillar was a maze of tunnels and pipes large enough to traverse while standing. Even Nethlia had clearance above her horns. Gravity and rainfall flushed the filth down long sloping tunnels till they reached deep vertical wells. There it¡¯d fall into reservoirs far below to be processed into fertilizer.

    This network of tunnels created a kind of undercity beneath Duskfields that played host to all manner of monsters who enjoyed damming up the passageways, causing all kinds of havoc above. Thus, it was up to brave, and iron-stomached, adventurers to traverse the slick ladders and stairs in search of critters to slay and pipes to unclog.

    Autumn was not a fan.

    In the few times they had delved into the sewers, they¡¯d only managed to explore a tiny section of the upper layers, but already the smell haunted her mind and nose.

    After a quick cleanse at the Guild, Autumn would head back to the House of Blooms for a much longer and hotter shower to rid herself of the pervasive, clinging smell. During the week, she¡¯d found herself also roped into helping around the bordello, focusing on mainly just keeping the place clean and tidy. Learning the repair charm from her tome had been both a blessing and a mistake, as it now meant she was the go-to handy-witch for anything broken.

    Not that she minded. It felt nice to help out.

    Thanks in kind to her lack of funds, Autumn had come around to the idea of selling her artistic services to the bordello. As of now, she had only done Lia¡¯s and Saphielle¡¯s, each for a reasonable price of 25g. Stacy had offered a price of 50g per portrait at the start, but Autumn didn¡¯t feel comfortable taking it all, seeing as she was living rent-free in their home.

    However, the busy days soon ended as their first major mission loomed.

    It all started on their fifth day as a team.

    Nethlia had run them ragged today, having booked some time in one of the training fields just outside the city. The Guild had filled the grounds with varying terrain and obstacles for them to maneuver about.

    Now they sat tired and sweaty within the guildhall, feasting on meats or vegetables and beer.

    Just as Autumn was polishing off the last of her food and drink, a commotion started up over by the mission boards.

    In the mornings and afternoons, the staff would post quests and other sorts of jobs on large boards. These quests could range wildly, but most tended to have prerequisites that clients specified. They could be anything from the number of adventurers required to certain ranks or even classes; it all depended on the danger involved and how much they were willing to pay.

    Even then, the guild reserved the right to change the classification if they felt the dangers were too high.

    Once an individual or team found a quest, they would then head over to one of the many receptionists to register for it. It was a reasonably efficient system.

    From the sounds of the hubbub, either they¡¯d posted up a fantastically good mission or an odd one. Glancing about at her companions, Autumn saw they were all finished with their meals and looked interested in seeing what missions they had posted. Pushing through the crowd, they made their way over and got a look at what everyone was all excited about.

    A large job posting read ¡°Goblin Hunt in the Restless Mire. Multiple teams willing to work alongside the Duskguard requested. 4480g per team, 10s per goblin slain.¡±

    Liddie whistled upon reading it.

    ¡°That¡¯s a hell of a price tag per team, not to mention goblins usually only go for 5s each.¡±

    What were the odds?

    Only eight days ago, the Duskmoore Hamlet had been attacked by a Redcap hunting party and now they were cropping up again. Autumn felt an unease in her stomach forming.

    Having read the posted quest, the team backed away from the overcrowded boards and made their way to a clear booth with a fresh round of drinks to discuss their options.

    ¡°So, should we take it?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°Where is the Restless Mire, anyway?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s way up to the northwest on a cape of the Flooded Coast. The closest settlement near it would be Bogward, but I¡¯m surprised anyone¡¯s bothering to post a hunt there. Perhaps someone spotted an encampment?¡± Nethlia answered her.

    A flash of anger washed over the berserker¡¯s face as she recalled the night of the Redcap assault. The wooden mug in her hand groaned in protest.

    ¡°I gather it¡¯s a swampland, but what dangers are we expecting?¡± Autumn turned to her fellow teammates.

    Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

    ¡°A lot,¡± Liddie bluntly stated. ¡°Swamps are the most infested place right alongside rainforests, and guess what¡¯s surrounding the Mire? We¡¯ll be facing foul weather, bugs, leeches, poisonous plants, and sucking mud, and that¡¯s not even mentioning the monsters or undead. The Restless Mire is full of things that want to eat or possess you.¡±

    ¡°Sounds pleasant,¡± Pyre spoke around a mug of cider.

    ¡°Quite. Honestly, it¡¯s not a place worth exploring. I¡¯ve only been there once, and that was enough for me. The guild might have more information if we sign up. We can always ask one of the receptionists.¡±

    The more Autumn heard about this place, the less she wanted to go, not to mention that pit in her stomach. Something about this didn¡¯t feel right, but she didn¡¯t know what.

    ¡°The fact that the Duskguard are involved means it¡¯s not just a small camp, likely someone found a larger encampment,¡± Nelva said.

    Edwyn opened another stone bottle of Caskbringer Whiskey. After a hefty swing, they turned to Autumn.

    ¡°Ye mentioned that ye hud business with the fae. Any chance this is connected?¡±

    Autumn wilted slightly under the attention of the others. Even though she had known these people for a few days now, she still was fairly reserved around them and given the context, she felt like shrinking in even more.

    ¡°H-how could it be¡­wouldn¡¯t they be nearby if it was?¡±

    ¡°I agree.¡± Nethlia spoke up for Autumn. ¡°Plus, goblins have been roaming the Restless Mire for as long as I can remember, so it¡¯s not that strange.¡±

    Pyre sat, nervously bouncing her foot as she took in the rest of her team. As the youngest of the group, she felt she had to say what they were all thinking, but was too hesitant to say.

    ¡°Are we ready for this?¡±

    A quiet fell as they all contemplated. Nethlia¡¯s brow furrowed, Edwyn drank, and Liddie gazed into memory as Nelva tapped her foot with nerves. Autumn herself gazed about, well aware that this could be a tipping point; they all might die on this journey if Liddie¡¯s recount was to be believed. But they needed to take a chance, right? Somebody needed to be the one who waded into the murk and filth to kill goblins. If left unchecked, they could do untold damage.

    Who knows if they haven¡¯t already?

    ¡°To a vote? Raise your hands if you think we should take it?¡± Autumn said into the silence.

    Slowly, hands began raising. Edwyn and Liddie were the first to confidently do so, followed by a slightly hesitant Nelva and a more so Pyre. After a brief quiet, Nethlia lifted her hand, leaving only Autumn remaining.

    They hadn¡¯t said whether it had to be unanimous, but they awaited Autumn¡¯s decision as if it were.

    The rapid bounce of her foot betrayed her anxiety as she crossed her arms. In her stomach, something coiled and shifted. With a deep breath, Autumn drew her fear away and her foot stilled.

    As the last hand rose, the decision was made.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t help but think she had made a terrible mistake.

    <hr>

    Inquiring at the mission office, they met the lovely Zenmia Stoutbottle once again. She informed the team that the reason behind the posting of the sudden and highly-paid mission was because the goblins had attacked the marsh village of Bogward. In the night''s dark, redcaps and other greenskins had crept into the village and slain many of its inhabitants.

    Unlike Duskmoore however, the village possesses its own guards: the Mireguard. They were able to kill many of the invaders and even drove them off, tailing them back to their home; a bloodstained keep deep within the Mire.

    Unfortunately, the Mireguard didn¡¯t have the numbers to assault such a defended structure, so had requested the aid of the barony¡¯s Duskguard and the Adventurer¡¯s Guild in dispatching them. The Duskguard was the pre-eminent force of the barony serving directly under its Liege-lord. Of course, each suitably sized town or city held its own garrison. Bogward had their Mireguard, for instance.

    The convoy would leave in the morning, as it was estimated that the journey would take roughly eleven days to accomplish. They¡¯d be merging with the main Duskguard force that had assembled at a place called Fort Rainguard four days into their journey.

    It really put things into perspective for Autumn. On good roads, a car would¡¯ve taken only two hours or so to cross that distance and perhaps four to eight on bad roads. From what she¡¯d seen, the roads of the barony consisted of packed earth, with a few drainage ditches dotted alongside here and there.

    The Dusk Wolves, as they were tentatively known, weren¡¯t the only group to sign up. Four other groups had enlisted and would be gathering in the morning for the journey.

    All that was left to do was to prepare.

    Supplies were brought and loaded up in their wagon, mostly food, but they also stocked up on waxed leather coats and waterproofing oils; the flooded coast wasn¡¯t just a fancy name. Rain fell upon the north of the peninsula in abundant quantities, like a tide.

    Autumn prepared as well in her own way, with witchcraft. Following the instructions within the tome, she constructed more anti-hex totems from old chicken bones and wax, enough for three per person. With what she knew, it was unlikely that they¡¯d need them, but it was better safe than sorry.

    It at least quelled the churn of anxiety somewhat.

    With everything prepped and prepared, the only thing left to do was to get a good sleep in; an early morning awaited after all. With her anxiety quenched by cider and wine and a belly full of a farewell meal, Autumn rested her weary head and dreamed.

    At first, it was soothing, nothing but a pleasant fog, but after a while, it shifted and changed. Soon she was wandering through spaces either familiar or alien.

    At one point, she was¡­home. Floating through the weathered front door, she was met with the sight of two detectives: one a grizzled man, the other a young woman. They were standing over a disheveled-looking man: her foster father.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t tell what they were saying, but the expressions on the detective¡¯s faces were hard. Like a ghost, Autumn drifted past them, heading down the hall to her bedroom. Behind her unnoticed, the older detective shivered at her passing and he gazed about with a searching look.

    Her room was a mess, more so than usual. The beds tossed, the dressers rummaged, even the carpet was cut up, exposing the flooring below. It looked like many people had combed over it.

    A familiar sniffle from the wardrobe caught Autumn¡¯s attention. Peeking inside, she saw a familiar face. Trian, her adoptive sister. She dressed all in black: black t-shirt emblazoned with an emo-punk band, black-and-white striped tights under black jean shorts, and black unlaced chucks on her feet.

    Being the two oldest in the home, they¡¯d shared a room for some time. Thus, it was impossible to not know each other at least a little. The goth girl had grown on Autumn somewhat, so seeing her so distressed sent a pang through Autumn¡¯s ethereal heart.

    Judging by the redness of her eyes, she¡¯d been crying a lot, hiding away in this lonely closet. Music played loudly from headphones stuffed into Trian¡¯s ears, drowning out her tears and sniffles. It was a familiar song to Autumn; one of her favorites. They¡¯d often listen to it together late into the night.

    The vision faded as she floated in a sea of consciousness.

 Duskpoint Barony Map

This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

 Interlude: Those Left Behind

    Tears like glass marbles tumbled down pale cheeks from eyes the color of the sky, reddened by days of grief and sorrow. Neglected night locks fell over them to alight upon a hunched over-neck; a body wracked by soundless cries. Hidden away from the world in a sanctity of cloth was a young girl. Only the demands of her body drew her from an isolated hideaway.

    The tears wouldn¡¯t stop even when it felt like she had run out of breath. Even when it hurt, deep inside her aching chest, like a blade driven into her heart.

    Trian had been like this for almost a week now, ever since that fateful day when Autumn had vanished.

    It had been raining and storming hard that night, lightning lashing down upon the world. She and Autumn had been minding their business, reading, writing, or simply listening to music when Trian had felt the call of nature.

    She¡¯d been only gone a minute or two, but when she returned¡­Autumn was missing.

    Vanished into thin air.

    It hadn¡¯t seemed that strange to her at the time; she just assumed Autumn had stepped out to get a glass of water or a late-night snack, not something uncommon. However, after ten, twenty, thirty minutes had passed, Trian knew something was wrong.

    She searched everywhere but found nothing.

    The police had been called shortly thereafter. Everyone had treated it as another runaway at first, but the gnawing feeling in Trian¡¯s gut wouldn¡¯t go away. The windows inside her room were still locked and nobody had heard her leave through the front door. With the storm raging outside, it would have been even more obvious of a noise.

    As time passed, the looks the police were giving them started changing, becoming more guarded and suspecting.

    The question they asked changed. At first, they were about Autumn: who were her friends (none), did she have any boyfriends (again none), were there any places she might go or hangout (there weren¡¯t), but after a few days of no sign of her, they started asking about them instead.

    Specifically, about her foster father, Jean-Perre.

    Asking about his whereabouts when Autumn had gone missing and if they had any conflicts. It soon became clear that Autumn¡¯s disappearance was being treated like a homicide investigation and her foster father was their prime suspect.

    Trian didn¡¯t believe it, couldn¡¯t believe it; he wasn¡¯t that kind of man. She had known him for years and he was always there for any of them.

    But that left the question. Where was Autumn and if she was dead, who killed her?

    She didn¡¯t know.

    What happened to her sister when she had stepped for but a moment? She couldn¡¯t help but think, what if? What if she hadn¡¯t left? If she had seen what had happened to Autumn?

    Would she have stopped whatever had happened or would she be missing too?

    She didn¡¯t know, so she hid and cried till it hurt, wishing she could have her sister back.

    <hr>

    Cigarette smoke swirled in the air, flowing through the eddies and currents of the AC. Below the great clouds sprawled a dimly lit conference office. A long glass table stood awaiting purpose in the center. On its surface lay a lone ashtray, pin-cushioned with stubbed-out cigarette butts. In the very corner stood a solemn corkboard, festooned with pictures and red strings of fate, like a macabre art display.

    Sat in the cloud of smoke and silhouetted by the embering glow of a cigarette was a man, brown of hair brushed by the gray of time. A strong jawline clenched tightly as a set of piercing eyes locked onto the corkboard across the way, seeking new connections they might have missed before.

    Detective Quinn sighed as he finished another cigarette, stubbing it out in the overfilled ashtray. The sixth in the last hour. A fact he silently lamented; he¡¯d told his husband he was quitting. But some habits were hard to kick, especially now; a young girl had gone missing over a week ago and he had no leads.

    It was as if she had simply¡­vanished.

    If he was unkind, he¡¯d liken it to an old murder mystery or one of those gritty noir films. Hell, even the office blinds were playing their part as they sliced the light across the room. Of course, he¡¯d never say it out loud as the captain would quickly have a reprimand so far up his ass he¡¯d taste the ink.

    One minute.

    That was his best estimate of how long the victim¡¯s sister had been gone for. If she was telling the truth. Given the state of the girl now, he doubted she was a suspect. So, he was willing to bet she hadn¡¯t lied, at least intentionally.

    So in a minute, a seventeen-year-old girl had vanished without a trace.

    The initial report had suspected she was a runaway. When he was eventually called to the scene, he pursued that lead, if only to rule it out.

    So? How would a girl like that escape unseen?

    It wasn¡¯t through the window, that¡¯s for sure. For one, it was still locked from the inside. She could have used a wire tool to re-lock it, but that begged the question of why? It wasn¡¯t a question that mattered anyway, as the timing was too tight; he¡¯d tested it himself with his partner. One minute wasn¡¯t long enough to open the window, get out, and relock it before the other girl returned. And if it was a third party, they¡¯d have to subdue the victim as well in the same timeframe.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    All this would¡¯ve had to be done during a storm too.

    That led to a detail that ruled out that part of the investigation: the windowsill was dry.

    The night the victim went missing was one of the worst storms this year, therefore rain would have been battering the side of the house. However, when CSI¡¯s had gone over the room with a fine-toothed comb, there was no water on the inside of the windowsill. So, no, the window hadn¡¯t opened at all.

    That left the front door. It was a tricker detail to pin-down as the first officers on the scene had contaminated it when they¡¯d entered. Their best recollection was that the entryway was dry when they entered, but that had to be taken with a grain of salt. Those sorts of testimonies were notoriously unreliable. The interviews of the other occupants were just as useless as nobody could recall hearing the door open, and with the storm raging outside, it would have been impossible to do that silently. The responding officers had reported that it swung open loudly under the wind¡¯s force when they had entered.

    With all that ruled out, all that was left was to be creative.

    CSI had torn up the carpet to look for hidden hatches, brought in a sonic-resonance device to search for cavities in the walls. He¡¯d even looked inside the mattress for a body. The only thing of note was a few small signs of a struggle: a messy bed, kicked over books, scuff marks on the walls.

    Again, that begged a question: why didn¡¯t anyone hear that? Sure the thunder was loud, but kicking a wall was too.

    The prime suspect was the foster father, but that was a bust too. Multiple witnesses placed him in other rooms of the house. While that wasn¡¯t a solid alibi, it all came back to the timing. Grabbing the victim and dragging her into the hallway would just make the timing even tighter. He¡¯d also seen the devastated look in the man¡¯s eyes when they informed him it was now a homicide investigation.

    That kind of look was hard to fake.

    So they had nothing but a mystery on their hands.

    Suddenly, the door swung open to reveal a younger female detective with a pair of coffees in her hands.

    ¡°Fuck it¡¯s smokey in here, crack a window or something sheesh. Didn¡¯t you quit?¡±

    A youthful face scrunched up in distaste as she smelled the air. Curls of brown trestles framed her like a halo within the glow of the brighter hallway. She dressed far more casually than Quinn; a black motorcycle jacket and heavy boots paired well with her formal blouse and pants.

    ¡°Stow it, Collins,¡± Quinn grumbled as he accepted the hot black coffee.

    Detective Collins gave him an exhausted sigh as she almost collapsed into the chair beside him. They had cooped themselves up in this room for days after they had exhausted all their leads, few as they were. The pair shared a moment of silence as they gazed over the corkboard and the raven-haired girl upon it.

    ¡°Any luck?¡±

    Quinn rubbed his face as he resisted the urge to light up his seventh. The prickly stubble scratched his palm as his eyes throbbed with the flux of new light from the hallway.

    ¡°No. We¡¯ve got nothing.¡±

    Silence lingered like a grim shroud. Dark eyes stared almost accusingly from the victim¡¯s photograph, but Quinn knew that was all in his mind. Hopefully.

    ¡°It¡¯s going to be one of those cases, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Quinn looked over at his partner as she spoke. The woman was relatively new to the job, not green, but still hadn¡¯t met the cold reality as he had before. He hadn¡¯t wished for her to encounter such a thing now, but it was inevitable.

    A familiar look of frustration and self-loathing washed over her face. He¡¯d often see the same upon that damnable man in the mirror.

    ¡°One of what?¡±

    He knew exactly what she was going to say, but she needed to say it, and perhaps he just wanted a conversation right now.

    ¡°A cold case. We¡¯re just going to shut all this stuff in a box and hope it doesn¡¯t happen again. Let someone else solve it down the line if they can, but most likely it¡¯ll just collect dust in some locker somewhere.¡±

    Collin¡¯s knuckles turned white around her coffee cup, untouched since she¡¯d arrived.

    ¡°We¡¯ve done all that we can.¡±

    Collins turned to him.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t enough.¡±

    A mantra he was unfortunately familiar with. Quinn sighed once more. He¡¯d been doing that a lot recently.

    ¡°Yeah.¡±

    After a beat of silence, Collins snorted.

    ¡°I guess we¡¯ll chalk this one up to fairies or something. Cold comfort for their family. Poor girl, lost everyone she cared for, and now this? Fate sure is a bitch.¡±

    Quinn couldn¡¯t agree more.

    <hr>

    On the side of the street in a quiet suburb was a lonely schoolgirl. Her white blouse and patterned skirt waved in the calm breeze. She was plastering posters on the street-lights, upon each was the striking photo of a raven-haired girl.

    Missing posters for a missing girl.

    Bright green hair slipped free of her headband to wave freely in the wind. While brushing it back behind her ears, she clutched the remaining stack of posters to her breast and away from the snatching hands of the wind. Green eyes stared at the missing girl before her.

    Liliana had been putting up these missing posters for a few days now, ever since she had heard Autumn had gone missing. It had proven to be rather difficult to find a decent photo of Autumn that didn¡¯t have the girl scowling or cowering away from the camera.

    She only had the one.

    A candid photo she had taken herself of the other girl sketching something that had taken her interest. Her eyes were lit up more colorful than ever before and a ghost of a smile crept upon her pale lips.

    A smile that caused Liliana¡¯s heart to skip a beat at the moment.

    Even now, there was a painful beat that had her in a haze. When she had heard Autumn was missing, it felt like someone had not only pulled the rug out from under her feet but the floor too. And she¡¯s yet to hit the bottom.

    To think that just a few days ago, she¡¯d been working up the courage to ask her if she had any plans for prom. Now a black rose corsage gathered dust on her bedside table. Hell, she didn¡¯t even know if Autumn liked girls.

    All her anxiety felt so trivial now.

    ¡°Would you like to find her?¡±

    Liliana jumped as a soft voice called out from beside her. She could have sworn there was nobody there before. And with a heart beating a mile a minute, she turned to the side to take whoever it was that had spooked her.

    A rather short girl stood beside her. Red leather practically swallowed her down to frayed hems around her bare ash-coated feet. A wide hood cast deep shadows upon her face, leaving only the tip of her nose and cracked lips free as blood-red hair spilled free around a metal-collar-scared throat. The sight of the girl sent chills down Liliana¡¯s spine, and the world quieted around them. She waited quietly for Liliana¡¯s reply as she stared curiously at the missing poster, eyes alighting with recognition.

    ¡°Yes?... I mean, yes, I would¡­she¡¯s my¡­friend. She went missing. If you see her, can you call the number on the poster?¡±

    Liliana swallowed nervously for some reason unknown to her as the silence stretched.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand. Would you search for her if you had the chance? If so, I can help.¡±

    The Devil in Red smiled.

 Chapter Thirty-Four: The Journey Begins

    Autumn awoke in a sweat with her nightgown clinging tight to her body.

    The dreams she¡¯d just witnessed slipped through her mind¡¯s eye like liquid smoke. In seconds, whatever they¡¯d been about fell away from her memory, cast aside. Yet a lingering, unexplainable sorrow filled her.

    Calming herself, Autumn drew out vestiges of nightmare. Tucking it away into her cracked hat.

    The morning had not yet broken. A shadowed city greeted her through the curtained window.

    Autumn¡¯s hair remained tame from the magical shampoo, so it took little effort to corral it now. In a few moments, she was dressed in a reasonable state for travel. Out in the hallway, Nethlia greeted her as she exited and, after a quick bite to eat, left their home.

    With full packs in hand, the pair traveled quickly over to the main gate of Duskfields, where the rest of their team would gather. Each member loaded their gear into the wagon while Kira was hitched. Traveling down the winding paths proved to be a harder task than the trek upwards for Autumn. Looking over the sheer drop in front and to her side caused her stomach to fall away. Even if she could corral her fear, the sight was almost too much.

    So she opted to walk. Thankfully, she wasn¡¯t the only one. Nobody else wanted to sit up on the swaying cart aside from the locals: Nethlia and Pyre.

    The group made it to the foot of the pillar and without their wagon making a break for it down the switch-back paths. Ahead of them were the grand gates of the city, still shut tight in the early hours. Settling down, they waited on the arrival of the other four adventuring parties.

    The first to arrive was a smaller group consisting of only three muscular demons. Autumn faintly recalled them being cheated by that gnomish fellow in cards. Much like Nethlia, the Inferni men were clad in furs and bones, and slung across their backs were large war axes. An old Agoroth hitched to a rickety cart plodded behind them as they made it towards the meeting point.

    As they drew closer, Autumn noted the three bore a striking familial resemblance to one another. In the lead was an older demon with a salt-and-pepper beard. He approached Nethlia first, recognizing her.

    ¡°Hail. You lot here for the Bogward quest as well?¡±

    Nethlia nodded in reply. ¡°That¡¯s right, we¡¯re the Dusk Wolves and you are?¡±

    ¡°Captain Ekrus of The Nemesis Crew, and these are my boys Arvius and Bardos.¡±

    As the older man introduced them, the other two Inferni were sizing them up. The pair nodded in greeting. Ekrus extended a thick, calloused hand in Nethlia¡¯s direction to which she grasped his forearm in a firm grip. It was slightly comical how she towered over him, despite his impressive physique.

    ¡°I¡¯m Captain Nethlia and they are Liddie Eastoft, Knight Nelva, Witch Autumn, Edwyn, and Pyre.¡±

    Each member of the group gave a show of acknowledgement at their respective names. Liddie got a larger nod of respect from the Inferni men.

    Before they could converse more than general pleasantries, the next group arrived at their little gathering. Much like themselves, this group consisted of six individuals. However, this group seemed to consist entirely of rogues. Each was clad in dark hooded cloaks that made it impossible to gauge their forms, beneath only a set of violet eyes peeked out from beneath cloth masks.

    Captain Ekrus scoffed at the sight of them.

    The group stopped their cart some distance from the group before a lone individual indistinguishable from the rest approached them.

    There was a tense standoff as the three captains evaluated each other.

    ¡°Captain Xiltuil. Red Scorpions.¡±

    The captain didn¡¯t offer his hand in greeting; neither did Nethlia nor Ekrus.

    Nelva leaned over towards Autumn and whispered in her ear.

    ¡°They¡¯re Umbra elves, I¡¯m sure of it. Umbra elves have sun sensitivity and a proclivity for using assassins. The Echea Empire and its allies aren¡¯t too keen on their kind, but as long as they do their jobs, it doesn¡¯t matter much.¡±

    Autumn ignored the ticklish sensation in her ear as she took in the information. If the name was any indication, they were most likely some type of Dark elf. Autumn wondered how the various elven races were related to one another. It¡¯d be a fascinating topic to delve into one day.

    Before her mind could wander too far or the standoff could grow too tense, a raucous melody crept up upon the groups.

    Strolling through the Tiger Gate that led up into the city above was a motley crew of bards and troubadours all dressed in garish colors and instruments, a far cry from the rather muted palette the other teams sported. This third group was seven individuals strong and made up of a diverse range of races; from Inferni and Lepus to different kinds of elves. There was even a lone catgirl mingling in.

    With a final rhythmic shout, the party halted.

    Upon spotting the gathering of captains, one elf detached from the group and sauntered her way over.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    The long blond hair and sparkling blue eyes of the bard were a familiar sight to Autumn; she¡¯d seen this particular bard more than once engaged in a musical duel within the main hall of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild.

    ¡°Ahoy there! It appears I¡¯m just in time to be fashionably late! Haha! Ah, but where are my manners? Captain Gilralei Rainguard of The Wise Cavaliers at your service!¡±

    A bright smile bloomed upon the bard¡¯s face as she gave the gathered captain an ostentatious bow.

    ¡°Ah, it appears I¡¯m the last. My apologies for my tardiness. Captain Arsit Blontir of Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule at your service.¡±

    While Captain Gilralei had been introducing herself, the last party finally arrived and what a sight they were. Including the Captain, a force of twenty strong Lepus had marched into the assembly area looking more like a small army than the adventurers they supposedly were.

    Autumn could spot knights, spearmen, archers, two clerics, a pair of rangers, and even an engineer all lined up in precise formation. Each one bore identical arms and armor fitted for their role; silken gambeson under bone plate armor, she even spied links of iron chainmail lining the gaps. Behind them, three heavy wagons stood full of weapons and supplies.

    ¡°Greetings Captain, you¡¯re not too late. We were just about to go over the arrangements of the convoy.¡±

    Autumn tuned out as the conversation drifted into the logistics of the journey ahead.

    It was only when the rays of sunlight lit up the night sky that the great Dusk Gate opened and they set out towards the north along a lonesome dusty road.

    <hr>

    The soft patter of rain fell from sunny skies and bounced across the brim of Autumn¡¯s hat. In the long journey, she¡¯d taken to sitting beside Nethlia as the demoness gently guided Kira to follow the wagons in front.

    They had placed their party second from the back, just in front of Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule, as the larger group was more suited to being a rear guard than them. While the rather more musical group, The Wise Cavaliers, were safely ensconced in the center of the formation ahead of them.

    As such, Autumn had been treated to what amounted to a small concert as the bards idly played to pass the time. Given that there wasn¡¯t much to see other than gray fields of grain and the occasional farmstead, it was a welcome distraction.

    The convoy had been slowly making their way northwest along the primary artery of the barony: the Dusk Road. Calling it a highway would be an exaggeration, but it handled the bulk-transportation of grain and other foodstuffs out into the greater empire. Being such a key trade route, it came at the cost of being targeted by everything from monsters looking for easy food to bandits looking to raid for wealth.

    While mounted knights and other guards constantly patrolled these roads, it still paid to be aware of your surroundings. Thus, when something inevitably happened, they weren¡¯t caught unawares.

    With the weather threatening to turn for the worse, the convoy had just stalled for a brief moment to unroll the waxed leather coverings. Each wagon had to protect the dry goods within when a call of alert came up from the lead wagons.

    Instantly, the whole convoy bristled like an angry dire-hedgehog.

    Autumn herself funneled a portion of magic to her eyes and a kaleidoscope of color bloomed in her vision. With her sight thus enhanced, she scanned the rolling hills and fields of Duskwheat for any sign of life.

    Even though she saw nothing, she didn¡¯t relax.

    The only noise was that of pouring rain and the tense breathing around her.

    For a few heartbeats that seemed to stretch on forever, they awaited word from ahead or the sounds of conflict.

    Before too long had passed, they relayed a message down the line.

    Captain Ekrus was in the lead wagon, and he¡¯d spotted several circling scavengers high in the sky. He¡¯d then led a preliminary scouting a few feet forward, to which he discovered the aftermath of a small skirmish between the locals and the monstrous wildlife.

    With the all clear given, the groups dismounted into the softly pouring rain and mud.

    ¡°Autumn with me. The rest of you guard the convoy in case this is an ambush.¡±

    Nethlia ordered before the pair hastened up the line, passing by the other groups. Getting closer to the lead, Autumn finally got a good look at the carnage. A farmer¡¯s wagon lay scattered across the road, allowing bags of flour to spill forth. The caws of crows pierced the air over the patter of rain as they ripped and tore at the flesh they had found. They ate at a near skeletal agoroth as it lay dead on the road. Its blood had pooled and mixed into the rain and mud. Guts and offal torn free now spilled in a hot stinking mess the carrion reveled in.

    It wasn¡¯t much better off than its owners.

    Humanoid bodies dotted the road like crimson mounds. Gruesome white bones still clung with gristle and flesh, but the prime meats and organs had been picked clean either by what had killed them or the carrion. The farmers had put up a fight, however; a few large feathered corpses lay here and there impaled on pitchforks or pikes.

    By now, they had reached the head of the convoy where Captain Ekrus awaited with his sons alongside the other captains. As they discussed amongst themselves the plan, Autumn scanned the corpses.

    All she could see that were still living were the greedy crows and vulture-like birds and she reported as much to Nethlia.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Either that or they are unconscious.¡±

    ¡°Alright. Let¡¯s spread out.¡±

    Slowly they crept closer, taking care to keep wary of the surrounding hills. The only disturbance was the discontented caws of the feasting birds, who fled their approach.

    Autumn stopped a few feet from one of the bird-like monsters.

    It looked akin to the regular crows that lingered nearby, only scaled up many times larger until it was bigger than Autumn was tall. Raven¡¯s black feathers were matted with blood and many had scattered across the muddy ground. A beak of razor sharpness glinted in the light alongside a set of six red eyes; three on either side of its massive head.

    ¡°Dire-crows,¡± Nethlia said from beside her as Autumn inspected the corpse. ¡°They rarely fly this far. Something must¡¯ve driven them from the forests. We¡¯ll need to inform those at Fort Rainguard.¡±

    Autumn nodded absentmindedly as she swept her gaze over the carnage. The smell was nauseous; a coppery tinge to the air, amongst the smell of wet earth and rain.

    Seeing no signs of further violence, the convoy split up into groups. The strongest handled shifting the wagon and dead Agoroth off the side of the road while the others wrapped the dead in spare linens to prepare for cremation later.

    They made space in the wagons where they could for the bodies.

    As Autumn was shifting through bloodstained bags of flour, she found a smaller body hidden amongst them. A tiny grinning skull stared up at her. Its flesh having been picked clean, only small pieces of gristle still clung to the horned form.

    Autumn hurried to the side of the road as she puked. Nobody faulted her, nor was she the only one unable to handle the sights and smells.

    When the convoy finally continued on their way under the gentle downpour of rain, the mood was far more somber than before.

 Chapter Thirty-Five: Crow-Hounds

    As the first day began drawing to a close, a sudden shift in the weather surprised the traveling adventurers. A wave of heat and humidity washed over the surroundings and caused the travelers to sweat beneath their cloaks, robes, and armor.

    Even the sporadic rain showers failed to cool them off.

    Raven-black hair plastered itself down Autumn¡¯s neck and across her face. She¡¯d lost count of how many times she¡¯d had to wipe herself clean as she lamented not learning the cleaning charm before.

    Although thinking about it, she¡¯d probably run out of magic rather swiftly.

    Already she¡¯d had to strip off her heavy robes and was now down to a tunic that clung to her frame.

    Poor Pyre seemed to have it worst of all. Her natural flame was being treated unkindly by the rise in humidity. The girl lay limply against the side of the wagon as her flaming hair drooped sadly.

    Luckily, the convoy soon called an end to the day¡¯s journey. With the sun still in the sky, they pulled into a relatively dry culvert protected from the winds. The seven wagons circled up to create a protective ring and a large water-proofed sheet of leather stretched out overtop and anchored to a central pole to make a tented area.

    The gentle rhythmic sounds of rainfall upon the leather were soothing as the groups set up.

    Off to the side, an enormous bonfire was speedily built with dry firewood for the cremation of the fallen they had collected. They held a somber and quiet farewell for those they didn¡¯t know. Autumn helped the best she could, but she honestly didn¡¯t feel like it was her place.

    A splash of Alchemist¡¯s Fire from Pyre lit the bonfire into a conflagration that ignored the fall of rain. It was a beacon of fire that lit up the night for a time; a reminder of the cruelty of Autumn¡¯s new world.

    Once the fire was well underway, the groups drifted back to their respective camps to set up tents and cook-fires beneath the awning. At the very top of the stitched together leather covering, a hole allowed the rising smoke to escape.

    Since Nethlia was the only skilled cook in the group, she cheerfully took it upon herself to prepare the evening¡¯s meal for their party, with only minor help from the others.

    With little to do, Autumn helped secure the campsite, namely with her wards of alarm.

    With a spool of magic-laced hair in hand, Autumn ventured along the sides of the camp to string up tripwires between the small openings between the wagons. However, this meant to her misfortune that she had to interact with the other parties, as they were unlikely to just ignore a witch creeping about their wagons.

    ¡°So you say this is an alarm? Fascinating.¡±

    The bard captain Gilralei Rainguard brushed her long blond locks back behind her elven ears as she crouched beside Autumn. Her sparkling blue eyes glittered in fascination as examined the violet magic that enshrouded the thin tripwire, making it nearly invisible in the shadows.

    ¡°Umm¡­yes it is. It¡¯ll emit a loud shrieking noise if crossed, so be careful.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll wake us up for sure! It¡¯ll be amusing if one of us tripped it while trying to take a piss, haha!¡±

    The elven bard gave a melodic laugh as she imagined the sight.

    ¡°How about I introduce you to the rest of my crew while I let them know?¡±

    Gilralei practically dragged Autumn back to her camp. Not that it was far from where they were standing. She didn¡¯t even need to tell them about the tripwires as they had heard about it from her loud laughter.

    Still, she introduced Autumn to her bardic crew.

    ¡°The Inferni over by the cooking pot is Ralkix. He¡¯s got great vocal range but is a terrible cook. I don¡¯t know why we left him in charge of the meals.¡±

    The demon in question made a rude gesture back toward the bard captain. ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause nobody else in this group can cook either. Don¡¯t mind the captain, it¡¯s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.¡±

    A Lepus bard in flowing robes sat nearby on a stool as he sharpened a sleek shortsword. Without breaking his gaze from his weapon, he spoke up.

    ¡°G¨¦r?me Lema?tre at your service, don¡¯t let the captain talk you into lending her anything. She¡¯s no good for it.¡±

    ¡°Betrayal! Bunch of ingrates! This is how you repay me!¡±

    She playfully shook her fist at the two.

    Moving on from them, she gestured over to a pair of elves; a man and woman, who were going over what looked like sheet music. The pair were a different race of elf than the captain. While she had a natural golden skin tone and bright eyes, these two had skin the color of bark and darker hair the color of leaves.

    ¡°Vuriac Oakwind is the man and Leshana Laurent is the woman. They¡¯ve come down from Everbloom Enclave up north.¡±

    The pair looked up at their names and gave a friendly wave before going back to their music.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Now, where are the other two? Aha! There they are.¡± Gilralei gestured to a pair of girls exiting the wagon. ¡°The Inferni dancer in the revealing attire is called Delight, and she is one, mind you, while the lovely little Felis is Watabe Eme.¡±

    Hearing her name, the catgirl¡¯s ears twitched towards the captain. Looking over, she shyly waved at Autumn before scurrying off towards one tent and ducking inside.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind her. She is very shy. Well, that¡¯s everyone. I¡¯ll let you get on your way unless there¡¯s anything else?¡±

    Autumn shook her head in reply before bidding farewell and moved on to setting up the other triplines. Thankfully for her dwindling supply of social energy, the groups weren¡¯t as overwhelmingly hospitable. Once she had explained herself to their respective captains, they left her to set up in peace.

    Returning to the safety of her party¡¯s campsite, Autumn got to enjoy a hearty broth of meats and vegetables. Liddie offered up a swing from her hip-flask that contained strong alcohol that tasted like moss covered in sugar. It left Autumn coughing and spluttering as the burn traveled down her throat.

    ¡°First taste of Mosswine, ehh?¡± Liddie chuckled at Autumn¡¯s expression of disgust. ¡°It grows on ya. Get it? Grow on ya!¡±

    Autumn¡¯s look of disgust switched targets with that awful pun.

    Luckily for her, she didn¡¯t have to bear Liddie¡¯s humor for long as the night descended upon the world; however, the heat and humidity of the day still lingered far into the night.

    High in the sky, two moons hung amongst the twinkling of stars and red nebulae. The greater moon had just had a new moon only a few days ago and now was shifting into a waxing crescent while its smaller brother bore a waning gibbous. Consulting her handy calendar, Autumn saw the pair were expected to both be full moons in around eleven days.

    As she took the first watch and the others bedded down for the night, she wondered what kind of effect that¡¯d have, if any, upon a world of magic. On Earth, the moon has often been associated with the supernatural and witchcraft. Maybe it was the same here?

    Shifting thoughts, she lent a sliver of magic to her eyes and scanned the gloom for anything strange.

    Only the lonely hoot of owls accompanied her in her vigil.

    As the twilight murk rolled on, Autumn¡¯s watch came to an uneventful end. Slipping back into camp she awoke another member before finding her way to her tent. The heat still stuck to her skin as hot sweat rolled down her back.

    With her head on the pillow, she began to dream once more. However, just as her dreams began to swirl into being, an ear-splitting shriek of terror jolted Autumn from her slumber.

    Something or someone had crossed her tripwire.

    Bolting upright, Autumn hurriedly retrieved her wand and knife as sounds of alarm echoed through the camp alongside a haunting chirping growl. In a rush, Autumn scrambled out of her tent and into the darkened campsite. Scouring around her for enemies, Autumn caught sight of a feather and furred mass just before it collided with her and bore her to the ground.

    Autumn shoved her right forearm up against the creature¡¯s throat. A razor-sharp beak snapped at her head. Heavy paws pressed her body into the dirt as it nipped and bit. A violent smell of rotten meat and the Feywild invaded her nostrils as she fought. Yet there was something different about it, something twisted.

    Gagging against the rottenness, Autumn plunged her knife upwards. The keen edge slid deep between an odd mixture of feathers and fur, and as iron met flesh, the creature burned as if touched by acid. Hot blood slicked her hand as she carved into the beast. A new, horrid smell of boiling flesh coated the air as its body rejected the metal. The fae creature chirped and yelped in agony, bucking and rocking as it attempted to escape the witch bearing the hatred of iron.

    Under the moonlight, it was fully revealed.

    A bird-like head glared at Autumn with two pairs of solid red eyes. It resembled the Dire-crows she¡¯d seen earlier, only this one was attached to a skinny body of a black-furred hound. Four enormous paws trembled in pain as the creature limped around Autumn, wary of the iron blade.

    The Crow-hound tensed before it leapt once again with beak wide open. Still laying under the wet ground, Autumn braced herself. Yet, before it could land, a devastating swing of an iron pole-hammer caught it in the side, sending it flying with a sound of cracking bones. The beast tumbled through the air before coming down hard upon a tent. Entangled, it was easy prey to the rage of a berserker.

    A roar ripped free of an enraged Nethlia. Adrenaline-fueled blood coursed heavily through her veins as she stood proud and defiant above her witch. A protector, a weapon. Sweat and rain steamed off her heated form as she panted.

    Autumn scrambled to her feet as her heart beat a wild rhythm within her chest. Everywhere she looked there were adventurers battling the fae-beasts with sword, spell, or song.

    Without the element of surprise, it wasn¡¯t going well for the Crow-hounds. Despite all their viciousness, they proved to be extremely weak, their body unable to withstand even the weakest of blows. Quickly, they were being driven back. However, with only low embers and clouded moonlight as a guide, they were becoming harder to spot.

    These were beastly scavengers and prowlers of the night, ambushers of the unaware.

    Violent violet bolts lashed out from Autumn¡¯s wand to disappear into the darkness, few struck true.

    In the end, it was Pyre who was the one that drove the final nail into the Crow-hound¡¯s coffin. Emerging from her own conflict, the girl fumbled with her potion bag, withdrawing a glass globe holding a golden liquid inside. After giving it a violent shake, Pyre tossed it out and into the center of the clearing where it impacted hard into the packed dirt.

    Suddenly the contents reacted, turning the night into day.

    The Crow-hounds shrieked as their sensitive eyes were assaulted. Unwilling to let such an opportunity pass them by, the well-experienced members pounced upon their distracted foes. Spared from the blinding light as their backs were to it, they had a clean advantage over the beasts, and before long the threat was ended.

    Silence descended upon them once more but for the clink of armor and the desperate heaving of lungs.

    The demoness berserker spun in place, weapon clenched tightly and eyes darting about for fresh prey. Rage pulsed within her veins and clouded her mind. Before her stood her witch, unharmed but for a few scratches. A growl rumbled within her throat, but she wrestled with it, pulling back the desire to shout at the girl. Seeing her pinned beneath that creature had filled her with fright.

    With calming breaths, the berserker pulled herself back from the brink and became Nethlia once more.

    ¡°Good thinking there Pyre, and you as well Autumn. Those alarms really saved us. ¡±

    Autumn and Pyre blushed somewhat under the unexpected praise.

    Edwyn clambered over to their party, dodging the fallen bestial bodies. ¡°Sorry captain, thay git right by me.¡±

    It had been the runecaster¡¯s turn on watch. However, none of the other watchers had spotted the beast¡¯s approach either, so they were hardly solely to blame. The fact still didn¡¯t quell the self-blame within the Manus¡¯ eyes.

    ¡°It happens sometimes. There are always beasts who can surprise us, that¡¯s why we have backup plans. Good work everyone. Now, shall we go see what the other captains are talking about?¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Six: Travel and Tales

    The Potion of Daylight waned within its glass prison, and in doing so, the brightness to rival a midday sun receded. The night crept back upon the camping adventurers till they were lit only by a soft glow. Cast now in dramatic lighting, the captains gathered, seeking to discuss amongst themselves the sudden violence.

    Onto this scene Autumn and the others arrived.

    ¡°Ah, Captain Nethlia. It seems we owe your group our thanks, twice over in fact.¡± Captain Arsit said as he spotted her approaching.

    Nethlia in kind, simply bowed her head in humbleness before replying.

    ¡°Thank you, but it was simply where our talents lie. Our group owes your praise as well, for I saw you dealt with a larger force yourselves.¡± Nethlia turned to the rest of the captains. ¡°Does anyone know or have any idea where these Crow-hounds came from? I¡¯ve never seen them around these parts before.¡±

    Captain Ekrus grunted in displeasure. ¡°We were just talking about that. Perhaps the Everblooms? Do those Silva elves know anything?¡±

    ¡°Not likely.¡± Captain Gilralei spoke up next. ¡°From what they¡¯ve told me, the Everbloom Enclave keeps all the woods around them and the roads relatively tame. Besides Crow-hounds are territorial scavengers, they don¡¯t migrate like this. They¡¯re known cowards, so seeing them attack a large camp, even with a pack this size, is strange.¡±

    Quiet contemplation gripped the group.

    Autumn herself was lost in thought over the beast¡¯s scent, which lingered in the air amongst the smell of blood and rain. Although faded, it still conjured an awful familiarity. The Feywild. However, it was different, twisted. A nightmare compared to Feywild''s dreaming.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t feel like a coincidence. With the Dire-crows attacking on the road and the Crow-hounds now, I think someone is trying to stop us or at least delay us. I believe politics are at hand.¡± The rare voice of Captain Xiltuil said.

    Anxiety churned Autumn¡¯s gut.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not jump to conclusions.¡± Captain Arsit spoke. ¡°It¡¯s entirely possible something drove both of them out of their usual territories.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯d have to be something that can both fly and hunt on the ground if it scared both into fleeing.¡± Nethlia said.

    A great many things in mythology and fantasy possessed those traits, so they hardly narrowed their options down. Hell, for all they knew, a dragon now called the coastal swamps or forests home.

    Was it wrong that Autumn hoped that there was a dragon?

    What modern person didn¡¯t want to see the majesty of a dragon? Just maybe from afar.

    A jaw-cracking yawn stretched across Autumn¡¯s face and she hurriedly covered her mouth with billowing sleeves. Before she¡¯d been rudely awakened, she¡¯d only gotten a bare handful of hours of sleep at most. Add on the fact she¡¯d just completed her watch, and she found herself too tired to pay much mind to the wild speculations ongoing.

    Tugging on Nethlia¡¯s arm, she drew her captain¡¯s attention. When Nethlia turned to her, she whispered. ¡°I¡¯m going to reset the tripwires and then head to bed. Try not to wake me, please.¡±

    Without waiting for a reply, Autumn slipped back out of earshot.

    Upon checking her alarms, she found that the majority had been tripped, and the hairs had snapped. While disheartening, Autumn supposed that was their purpose in the end. Glancing down at her spool showed she had nearly run out. Her Tome of Witchcraft had specifically stated that ¡°human hair¡± was required and there was only one human around. While hair from other races might work, now wasn¡¯t the time to risk it backfiring.

    Flexing her quivering hands, Autumn tried to divest them of their nervous movement, even purging herself of her fear they only quelled a little. Grasping onto her raven locks, Autumn pulled a few long lengths free.

    ¡°Ouch.¡±

    The sting was only minor, but she hardly enjoyed losing her now tamed mane. With the area re-trapped and her safety reassured, Autumn retreated to her tent. Sleep came hard and fast. No dreams broke into her rest that sweltering night.

    <hr>

    Soft showers turned to a ponderous deluge. The further north the convoy traveled the worse it grew, rain now pelted the wagons with intent and dikes along the roadside overflowed. Often the party had to dismount to free themselves from thick mud, the wheels having stuck fast.

    Autumn lamented the sight of her new boots caked in cloying mud.

    To make matters worse, an arctic wind had blown in from the north and now blanketed them. The heat of yesterday had faded throughout the morning and left only sticky sweat behind, sweat that now froze upon their bodies. And this wasn¡¯t even the worst the flooded coast had to offer, for fierce storms lashed the coast with near constant rain.

    Rather than sit out in the biting rain and wind, Autumn had retreated into the shelter of the covered wagon, bundled tight in the warmth of her robes. Only poor Nethlia was brave and responsible enough to steer the wagon. Although she needn¡¯t have bothered, as Kira was happy to follow the wagon in front under her own guidance.

    Hidden beneath her billowing sleeves, Autumn¡¯s hands hadn¡¯t stopped shaking from the night before. She¡¯d blown upon them and tucked them beneath her armpits to warm them to no avail. As much as she wished to believe it was, she knew it wasn¡¯t because of the cold.

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Autumn had reverted back to her savage, instinctive, and desperate self she was in the Feywild during the chaos last night. All her training and defensive spells had disappeared the moment the Crow-hound had leapt upon her. It was only thanks to luck that it was weak and that she could fend it off with only her iron knife.

    Already she¡¯d lost two fingers and that sharp beak could have taken more.

    So, Autumn pulled forth the Tome of Witchcraft and began re-reading the spells within.

    Sat next to her was Pyre. Autumn basked in the warmth radiating off the grumpy alchemist. Given her fiery nature, she was especially popular today, even the noble bearing Nelva and the stoic Edwyn had gathered in close, despite Pyre¡¯s half-hearted grumbling. Autumn had secured the closest spot by taking away the girl¡¯s lingering fear. She¡¯d likely have done it anyway, but being warm was a pleasant bonus.

    Reading through her spells, Autumn added Touch of Terror to the very top of her list to learn.

    How many times was it now that she¡¯d found herself set upon by monsters? How many times did she have to rely on iron instead of magic?

    Three by her count.

    Jinx of Fear and Touch of Terror were remarkably similar, their only difference being how they were delivered. With her jinx, she had to rely on a focus to cast; as the magical core of the wand accomplished all the weaves and channeling for her. However, as the touch spell didn¡¯t require such, all the manipulation of magic must be done manually. It was harder to learn for sure, but if she could master it, it would be impossible for her to miss.

    For the next few icy hours, Autumn focused upon coiling the magic within her arm, and as it was all an internal process, as long as she didn¡¯t fully cast the spell, she could try again and again without waste. It still took a toll on her body; her arm throbbed painfully, but it would be worth it in the end.

    <hr>

    When the midday sun shone overhead, the convoy had arrived at a split in the road. To the north lay the winding trail to the Everbloom forests and the Elven enclave nestled within, while to the west the Dusk Road continued on to Fort Rainguard; their next destination.

    They had been briefly delayed by a nobleman¡¯s carriage coming from the Everbloom Enclave, complete with an Elven complement of mounted knights. Living vines had twisted themselves into the shape of an elk. The knights themselves bore bark armor over cloth and hide. Great stag¡¯s horns adorned their helms to rise proudly into the sky, while a mantle of leaves and flowers lay across their shoulders and back.

    Other than inquiring after the conditions of the road, they passed by the adventurers without incident.

    Now heading west, a new scenery greeted them. The road divided the farms into two distinct types. To the south, the farms were the same as Autumn had witnessed so far; Duskwheat fields waved in the wind and pastures of lazing Agoroth grazed. The only change she could see was that more dikes and ditches lined the fields, providing channels for rainwater to flow.

    To the north, a new style emerged. Fields had given way to flooded paddies of grass, all stacked on top of each other like tiers of a cake. Demon farmhands waded through the knee-deep waters to inspect crops, and great flocks of waterfowl pecked away at the bugs and insects. These paddies were fed by rainfall and stone aqueducts that bridged across the valleys between, head off to the west toward Fort Rainguard.

    Upon inquiring, Autumn was informed that these fields grew Palegrain; a rice-like product. As the Inferni were predominantly carnivorous, they had trouble digesting the grains, so they sold it off to the Elven and Lepus nations, bringing in wealth for the region.

    It made Autumn want sushi.

    Surely someone around here could make some and if not, she could.

    For two days, the rain continued unabated. Icy winds had yet to retreat and cut into those exposed. At each campsite, they¡¯d huddle around the crackling fire, sipping from bowls of hearty stew, and just trying to stay warm.

    During one of these frosted evenings, while bards played to warm themselves, a tale was told.

    Bundled up in furs and sated with stew, someone had asked Liddie to recount her time on the seas. Of her heroic deeds and to tell the tale of the Kraken Eater and the death of the Dread-Kraken; Ol¡¯ Ship-Eater.

    Already half drunk on Mosswine and bravado, the pirate obliged and spun a tall tale.

    ¡°You wish to know of that ol¡¯ bastard, do ya? Hear my tales upon the briny queen?¡±

    Liddie ¡®Kraken Eater¡¯ Eastoft grinned a wicked grin in the flicker of the firelight.

    ¡°Let me spin a yarn for you. First, we must go back to the beginning, where it all started: Brokenship Bay. Imagine a flotilla of the grandest ships you could ever see, warships several decks high, merchant-men who¡¯d traded far and wide, to trade haulers and treasure-ships. Now take them all and smash them upon a rocky shore, and you have Brokenship Bay. A den to scum, pirates, and villains. The only thing good to have come from that place was me and my ship, although I¡¯m iffy on the ship.¡±

    By now, an audience had gathered around and she threw them a wink and a grin.

    ¡°By the time I was fourteen years old, I had a crew of my own, sans a ship. It was hard to come by one, intact after all. It was then I heard that the Inferni-Human war had kicked off once more. So far from the front lines, I lamented, but where there is war, there are opportunities. Piracy, or as it was called then, Privateering, was in fashion and I quickly found myself onboard my future ship: The Drunken Knave. I didn¡¯t name it.¡±

    Liddie took another swig of Mosswine to wet her throat.

    ¡°They must have seen my potential as I swiftly rose the ranks till I captained the ship.¡± Her smile was sharp as a blade. ¡°I made a name for myself, running unpassable blockades, robbing filthy rich merchants, and sinking fleets of warships all aligned against the great Echea Empire. Oh, they sent entire armadas of pirate-hunters after me, but they all rest now in the briny deep. My plunder of the empire¡¯s enemies earned me admiration from the empress herself and thus, I was named Eastoft.¡±

    Liddie paused in her retelling to soak up the admiration, envy, and desire of the other Inferni. Each one dreamed of one day earning their second name, a feat not easily achieved.

    ¡°As to Ol¡¯ Ship-Eater himself? I met the old bastard in the Kraken Straits, funnily enough. He latched onto my ship with his great tentacles, each one over a mile long, maybe more. With but a flex, my ship was torn in twain. Demons and demonesses I¡¯d known for years disappeared into the Briny Queen or down his gullet. I knew I could not survive at sea, so I took a gamble and jumped down into his toothy maw. I¡¯ll not regale you of that horrid stench, as I¡¯m afraid you¡¯ll lose your stew, but know that it was worse than anything. It was there I found my sword; the Kraken Slayer.¡±

    Liddie patted her belt, which held a cutlass. The basket hilt resembled a grasping kraken as it wrapped around a hand.

    ¡°So, I took the blade in hand, cutting and yes, chewing my way to its heart where I struck it down.¡±

    ¡°How did you survive after that? You said you were lost at sea before?¡± Pyre asked.

    ¡°I did, didn¡¯t I?¡± Liddie smirked. ¡°A pod of beautiful mermaids, drawn by my dashing good looks and heroic deeds, rescued me. I¡¯d tell you more, but that¡¯s a whole different kind of story.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Seven: Fort Rainguard

    Fort Rainguard had been built a long time ago, in the first era of the empire. Back then, the land had yet to be cleared of its vast, dense rainforests and dangerous beasts and so they constructed a great fortress to safeguard the region and explore its untapped wealth. It had taken many years to build this fort, for it was a monster of one.

    Four great keeps of gray stone sat at all four points of a compass and rose high into the sky, well above where the treetops would have been. Solid walls many feet thick formed a perfect circle between the keeps, inter-cut with round towers that jut forth with mathematical precision. Banners and flags adorning them flapped in the wind and rain.

    In the very center of the four keeps was a massive reservoir of collected rainwater, almost a lake by itself. Docks lined the edges of this demon-made lake, teeming with fishermen and tethered boats that hauled in nets full of fish from within.

    From enormous mouths lining the exterior of the fortress, grand waterfalls cascaded down, coating the walls slick with algae and moss. Mists sprayed up high, coating hills at its base in a layer of rolling fog. The deluge fed into those large aqueducts Autumn had seen before, siphoning off the excess water to the water-lodged paddies.

    While the four keeps held the living spaces for the knights, guards, and military staff of the fortress, between them stretched the wooden workshops and homes of those who maintained it. Blacksmiths, cooks, maids, brewers, fishermen, and many others. The build pressed up against the outer wall, always leaving the lakeside free for travel.

    There were no traditional gates to this fortress, only a large elevator-like platform hoisted up by a pair of large wooden cranes into one keep.

    This was how Autumn found herself rising up the walls amidst the roaring waterfalls on their way to meet with the Lord of Fort Rainguard: Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin, Gilralei¡¯s father.

    From what she learned, Autumn likened a Sentinel-Lord with a knight-commander or grandmaster. They possessed a chapter of knights obligated to serve as wardens in times of peace and soldiers in times of war. The knights of Rainguard were known as the Rain Knights. In addition, each Sentinel-Lord held a castle or fort fiefdom, and an authority in all things military no less than a governor.

    It was all so strange to Autumn.

    Upon arriving at the foot of the keep, the lord had invited all of them to dine with him and his family. Whether this was because of Captain Gilralei¡¯s presence or not, Autumn hadn¡¯t a clue. What she knew was that her outfit was hardly suitable to meet a lord of any kind in. As they awaited in a grand audience chamber, Autumn brushed her robes down for the fifth time. Not that it helped.

    Inside the ostentatious chamber stood forty odd adventurers in varying degrees of appropriate attire.

    At one end of the spectrum was Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule. With them possessing almost half the members of the convoy, they stood out all the more in their uniform, polished gear. Autumn couldn¡¯t help but compare them with the Rain Knights standing guard before the solid doors.

    The differences in gear were readily apparent. Adventurers were travelers, fighters, and local busybodies all rolled into one, so they required other things from their gear than a soldier or knight might. For one, weight. While not as heavy as one might expect, a full plate armor was still an added weight that adventurers didn¡¯t need or want. As such, the Lepus bore mainly chest plates over silk and chainmail, alongside a variety of pouches and bags to carry their gear and/or loot.

    Joining them on the well-dressed side were The Wise Cavaliers. Standing proud and flamboyant in their colorful clothes, which they¡¯d somehow had pressed. Instruments of song and tales shone with polish in the torchlight.

    Autumn imagined that a soir¨¦e was a bard¡¯s favored terrain.

    At the other end of the spectrum was the brawn of The Nemesis Crew and the stoicism of the Red Scorpions. Neither of the two parties had changed their attires, mud still clung to their boots and the Umbra elves had yet to divest themselves of their all-encompassing cloaks and facemasks. How they planned to eat was a mystery.

    Finally, there was her own team of roughnecks.

    Without being too rude, Autumn had to admit that besides Nelva, her team wasn¡¯t best suited for what she imagined being a fine dining event. Seeing as, aside from brushing off the worst of the mud and rain, they were still a messy, rough-riding bunch of adventurers and she didn¡¯t exclude herself from that description.

    However, before Autumn could lament their state of dress any further, the grand doors opened. Behind them lay a spacious dining hall lit by evening light that streamed in through stained glass and warm candlelight that flickered overhead atop chandeliers made of stag¡¯s antlers. Ornate windows ran the length of the chamber, each depicting a mighty knight or glorious battle. Twin long tables flanked the room, decorated with silken runners, and laden with gleaming silverware. The inner side remained free to allow access for the myriad of servants to wait on them.

    At the head of the dining hall was a smaller table, placed horizontally. Behind it the Rainguard banner hung: a waterfall-clad fortress upon a field of blue.

    Framed by the banner was a tall elven man. Age had silvered his long blond hair, and wrinkled the corners of his eyes. Sharp features and blue eyes watched the parties enter with nary a twitch, although they tightened at the sight of Gilralei. His tall, thin form was clad in long flowing robes that stood in stark contrast to the military display around him. Seated behind him was a regal elven woman who possessed the same alluring feature that Gilarlei held; long blond hair, keen blue eyes, and a body of lithe endowment. Next to her was a young elven boy who looked almost like a carbon-copy of the lord.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    The Lord watched on with disinterest and poorly concealed contempt as the disheveled adventurers streamed into the hall and took their places behind soft cushions. A scowl flashed across his face as Gilralei took a place alongside her companions rather than the seat beside him, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

    ¡°Welcome to Fort Rainguard. I am Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin of the Noble house Rainguard. Behind me is my wife, Lady Aleissezza and my youngest, Ciclerdor. I find myself hungry. You all must be too. We shall eat first, then discuss important matters later.¡±

    With that, he clapped his hands and servants hurriedly brought forth platters upon platters of foods and wines. In quick succession, they filled the tables up with a variety of dishes. Some Autumn had seen before, like cuts of Agoroth meat prepared in a variety of methods and sauces, Duskwheat breads and buns, and roasted vegetables of all kinds.

    Not to mention the sheer amount of fish dishes. To Autumn¡¯s immense delight, she even saw plates of maki style sushi.

    There were also things Autumn hadn¡¯t seen yet. Blood-Hawk stews, shredded meat of giant elk, constrictor snakes, toads, or even the legs of a giant spider. Despite some of their strange nature, nobody other than Autumn seemed put off by the eclectic meals.

    Not one to make a scene, Autumn ate her fill of familiar dishes and even tried a few of the stranger types. Before long the hall had filled with the quiet sounds of eating.

    Eventually the food ran out and Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin stood once more and clapped loudly for attention. As polite, if somewhat annoyed, eyes turned towards him he began to speak once more.

    ¡°Now that we are all full, let us turn matters to this¡­collaboration. I have taken it upon myself to assign Captain Morlech to lead this endeavor. Under his command will be my force of Duskguards and Rain Knights, enough to properly deal with whatever rabble that it is you have deemed necessary to eradicate. With his expertise, I¡¯m sure victory is now possible.¡±

    An entire room of adventurers turned annoyed eyes towards the said captain.

    There stood a rather short Inferni demon, who barely came up to Autumn¡¯s height. Years of indulgence had soured his face, darkening his teal-skin and ballooning his nose above an ill-advised mustache. They had trimmed a receding hairline of copper locks far too short, it now brushed against his skull like stubble. Enjoyment of one too many deserts lay evident around his rotund waist, barely fitting into a seam split silken gambeson.

    Captain Morlech met the criticizing gazes with an arrogance of his own.

    ¡°Wonderful.¡± Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin said without emotion. ¡°The night is upon us. I have graciously provided rooms within my keep, so make use of them.¡±

    Without another word, he turned and strutted out the hall, his wife leisurely following behind. Before she left, she sent a warm motherly smile Gilralei¡¯s way.

    Autumn rose from her seat with a yawn on her lips. Beside her was Nethlia, who reached out and gestured to the hallway with a shy smile on her lips.

    ¡°Hey, Autumn. Would you like to see the sights with me?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s heart thudded loudly in her ears as she rushed to reply. ¡°Yesh!¡± Pain flared as she bit her tongue between gleaming teeth. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes as she flushed an embarrassed red.

    Nethlia chuckled at the sight.

    Outside, the rain hadn¡¯t stopped. It pounded a torrent down upon the fortress, splashing against the stone before running into the basin below. It filled the chilly night air with a constant beat alongside the thundering waterfalls as the pair sought intimate shelter. Safe haven came in the form of a lonesome balcony. As they stood there leaning against a drenched balcony, their night-numbed hands hovered tantalizingly close to the other''s.

    Moonlight shone down just for the two of them as the clouds parted and, like a blanket, a warm silence fell around the pair.

    Orange eyes met black across the moonlit terrace.

    Autumn licked her cracked lips as she sought for words that wouldn¡¯t come. Her heart beat a painful, embarrassed tune. Finally, she gathered herself under the heat of that maddening stare.

    ¡°I¡¯d just like to say¡ª¡± ¡°Would you like to¡ª¡±

    Clumsy words collided midair and crashed to the ground in a fiery tumble of awkward fancy. The pair paused as they realized their folly.

    ¡°¡°You go first.¡±¡±

    Again, their words crashed upon the shore of the others. Embarrassed adoration flowered amongst the ruins the mischievous timing had caused. However, before either could re-summon the courage to articulate their unspoken thoughts, an argumentative conversation broke into their harmony.

    With weapons readied and thoughts aligned the pair crept closer, intent on assessing the danger.

    Their worries were for naught, for they soon glimpsed the sight of their oh so charming host and their actually charming daughter through an open window. The rainfall prevented them from hearing from where they were, so the inquisitive pair pressed closer to hear. However, this resulted in Autumn becoming well pressed between the cold stone wall and the hot wall of Nethlia¡¯s muscles. Not that Autumn was complaining.

    So, with her ears burning and face flush, she listened in.

    The lord¡¯s voice was the first they heard. ¡°Once again, you embarrass me! How many times have I told you not to associate with those¡­rabble!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you talk about them that way! They¡¯re noble, kind souls!¡± Gilralei¡¯s voice was heated as she rebuked her father.

    ¡°Noble?! I am nobility! I¡¯ve allowed your dalliances long enough. It¡¯s time you came home! You¡¯ve made a mockery of me in the courts and I¡¯ll have it no longer!¡±

    ¡°Allowed?! Allowed?! I¡¯m a gold rank adventurer, captain of one of the most lauded teams in the barony. Nay the Empire! I accomplished that, not you!¡±

    The lord¡¯s voice filled with mocking derision. ¡°You think you earned your rank? Please, I¡¯ve bought your so-called ¡®Gold rank¡¯ for you.¡±

    Gilralei¡¯s heat voice fired back. ¡°Don¡¯t you dare! You can¡¯t buy ranks in the Guild.¡±

    ¡°That may be true, but you can buy clients. You have no idea how many strings I had to pull to get you into all those parties and concerts. Did you really think your group of misfits could actually hold a tune?¡± A bark of mockery stabbed into the night.

    ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡± Fury and disbelief filled the bard¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Humph. Believe it or not, once this dreadful goblin business is resolved, you are returning here. I¡¯ve already lined up a potential betrothal for you with Governess Orivari¡¯s son and I won¡¯t have you ruining my plans.¡±

    ¡°But he¡¯s only seven!¡±

    ¡°All the more reason to get this betrothal early. You¡¯ll be happy tending his hearth and home. You are a woman after all, even if you don¡¯t dress like one. The sooner you finish this god¡¯s awful play at being a¡­urgh¡­adventurer the better.¡±

    As the Sentinel-Lord stormed off, the weeping of a broken bard echoed into the night sky.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight: Bearmaw Raiders

    Wagon wheels scythed through deep mud as an enlarged convoy made its way down the Dusk Road. Six wagons full of thirty Duskguards had joined the convoy ever since they¡¯d left Fort Rainguard, bringing with them a sullen silence.

    For two days, they had traveled without musical accompaniment.

    Gilralei had hidden herself away within her wagon, unable to be her cheerful self. Few knew the reason, but many could guess.

    Autumn and Nethlia shared a sympathetic look.

    Alongside the Duskguards, ten mounted Rain Knights had been assigned to their convoy. Composed of the best champions the barony could offer, they had access to some of the best arms and armor. A fortune in steel reinforced bone and horn plate armor over top of a thick leather trench coat that shielded them from the elements. Gloves and boots were bound tight to not allow any water to intrude, while a wide-brimmed, domed, and visored helm protected their heads.

    While each wore a keen steel sword, their main armament was the lance, for they rode atop Nightmares; black horses of dark fog and fear. They clopped along beside the convoy, unbothered by the downpour. Manes and tails of black silk and shadow swayed in the wind, smoke and embers clung to heavy hooves, and eyes of malevolence burned within fiery sockets. As they bore their riders onwards, they huffed hot air from mouths of carnivorous teeth.

    And as Autumn stared at them, they stared back.

    ¡°That¡¯s certainly creepy. Why do they keep looking at us?¡± Nelva asked from her seat beside Autumn.

    The strange pairing of witch and chevalier had taken over driving, or at the very least, keeping their wagon on track as a burning sky heralded the falling night. Seeing as Nethlia had graciously taken the few days before, they opted to return the favor.

    Soon they¡¯d have to stop, but the next town loomed ever so close.

    Captain Morlech had made the unanimous decision to continue on under lantern light, unwilling to rest another night under the stars and rain. Thankfully, no argument erupted as the adventurers knew that the closer they got to the Restless Mire and the woods that surrounded it, the closer they got to danger. Monster, beasts, and bandits were threats not to be underestimated. Already they¡¯d had a few close calls.

    ¡°They¡¯re not creepy. I think they¡¯re beautiful.¡± Autumn said.

    Nelva looked to Autumn, the pinnacle of creepiness. ¡°Uh huh. Sure.¡±

    ¡°They are! Just look at them, those sleek muscles, that majestic mane. There¡¯s something about them that¡¯s¡­that¡¯s¡­ just so beautiful. I want one.¡±

    A wistful sigh escaped Autumn as she admired the mares as they trotted in the rain, almost showing off.

    ¡°Of course you do.¡± Nelva¡¯s voice was full of amusement and gentle teasing.

    Autumn blushed as she ducked her head back beneath her hat.

    Nelva stared out at the nightmares she found so creepy. Their eyes filled with a cruel light. Under her breath, she whispered. ¡°They kind of remind me of my fiance.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Fiance? You¡¯re engaged?¡±

    The cavalier jolted in her seat.

    Hesitance stole across her face as she contemplated telling Autumn. Under the witch¡¯s inquisitive gaze, she relented.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m engaged and not of my volition. My parents betrothed me to a monstre, a vampire most foul. I¡­I don¡¯t blame them, as they weren¡¯t to know. Nobody else was aware of their haematic lust but I. On the eve of my wedding day, I discovered their deeds most foul; they¡¯d slain a young maid by draining her of lifesblood till she was naught but a husk. I informed my parents and le corps de garde, but no one believed me, so I ran. One day, I¡¯ll return and slay the foul creature.¡±

    Her grip tightened on the reins, causing them to protest.

    A myriad of other emotions flickered across the noble features of the Lepus Chevalier. Before Autumn could offer words of comfort or even her aid, a disconcerting sight drew their attention, along with the rest of the convoy.

    At first, Autumn had mistaken it for the setting fires of the sun, but long after the night had darkened, a glow of a raging inferno remained, lighting the dark expanse. Icy winds too brought ill omens, for upon them carried the cacophonous sounds of roaring beasts and men.

    With nary a word, the convoy pressed on, intensifying their pace till they flew through the muck, and their wagons shook with eagerness. Inside the bouncing wagons, spells and weapons were readied.

    Autumn gripped her wand with shaking hands.

    Everwatch was ablaze.

    The once proud wooden palisades and watchtowers of this fortified town now burned into the night sky. Embers drifted in the winds to alight upon homes while timbers creaked and moaned as they fueled the inferno. Brigades of civilians sought to douse the flames and save what they could. It was all for naught, for this was no accidental spark that lit the town, but a deliberate act of violence.

    Up the river, raiders had crept in silence.

    Oars that softly cut through the waters had pushed a longship with furled sails further inland. An evening fog had cloaked them and by the time the watchmen noticed, it was far too late. Upon landing on the river¡¯s stony banks, the raiders had rushed the walls and set them alight. Now they roamed within; stealing, killing, and raping this town of its wealth and people.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Autumn got a good look at these pillagers.

    Human menfolk, bearded and braided. Fueled by fury, they had arrived with death in hand. Some brandished large rounded shields against the desperate hail of arrows and the jabbing of spears, while others cleaved flesh and meat with powerful swings of bearded axes. Helms of iron were crowned with majestic horns and antlers, while bodies of dense muscle bore the marks of salt and scars.

    However, much to Autumn¡¯s dismay, they did not fight alone.

    Great and powerful beasts fought by their side; Grizzly-Bears, Saber-Toothed Tigers and Jaguars, Direwolves, and even Direboars.

    Through the cracked and burned gates hundreds of these seabourne brigands had poured, yet a few still remained fighting brutal battles against clumps of isolated militiamen. Those few defenders who had the freedom to observe the onrushing convoy were bolstered by the sight of able-bodied reinforcements and fought more fiercely as a result.

    The convoy ground to a halt before the fire and the flames.

    As Autumn tumbled free from the wagon her feet landed in the mud with a sucking squelch. A wash of heat from the roaring flames fought against the icy chill in the air, causing Autumn¡¯s back to instantly become awash with sweat. Her team dismounted around her with steel hearts and aghast eyes.

    Despite her own determination, Autumn¡¯s hands still quailed.

    Liddie flashed a sharp smile in Autumn¡¯s direction.

    ¡°Alright, you all know the drills. Keep in formation, follow Autumn¡¯s messages and we¡¯ll get through this. Don¡¯t hesitate to kill. These look to be veteran Bearmaw raiders and they won¡¯t waver when cutting you down. Am I clear?¡± Nethlia¡¯s voice boomed over the flames and violence.

    ¡°Let¡¯s not waste any time. People are dying in there, so let¡¯s go do something about it.¡±

    Six pairs of well-worn boots pounded the ground as they made their approach.

    Just ahead of them the Duskguard had assembled under the guidance of their reedy-voiced captain. Unlike the Duskguard of the south, these northern counterparts had donned raincoats of wax-leather and armored conical helms. A sea of pikes, spears, and polearms rose into the sky. The Rain Knights had already rode off to harass those few enemies out in the open.

    ¡°You there! Adventurers! Get back in line! I¡¯ll be leading this fight, and I won¡¯t have you mucking things up for me!¡±

    The Duskguard Captain¡¯s voice must have been lost amidst the cracking of fire and roar of combat, for none of the adventurers heeded his bluster.

    Mud and hot blood mixed underfoot, pooling around arrow-struck bodies and discarded weapons. Beyond the broken and smoldering gate lay a dread carpet, friend and foe lay alike in the cooling embrace of horror and death.

    Bile threatened to rise within as Autumn picked her way over strewn guts. Ahead of her, Captain Ekrus and his Nemesis Crew had killed the few raiders scavenging the dead.

    ¡°It¡¯s best if we split up to cover more ground. These invaders won¡¯t be far.¡± Captain Ekrus said as he wrenched his axe free from a split skull.

    ¡°Right. Stay safe.¡± Nethlia responded.

    Everwatch¡¯s main road loomed before them, fragmented and blood-soaked. Bodies lay crumpled in the streets, militia desperate to protect their homes. Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule formed a shield wall against the horror. Behind them, the grim ballads of the Wise Cavaliers resounded, bolstering allies and attracting enemies. Acting as vanguards, the other teams split off one by one into alleyways and homes.

    Everywhere Autumn looked, there was violence.

    The shops and stalls that had once lined the streets with trade now lay gutted and looted while homes had been broken into to snatch the valuables within. More bodies lay tattered and torn, bleeding onto the muddy roads amidst the falling rain. Militiamen littered the streets like discarded trash at first, but as the party ventured further into the burning town, more and more civilians started appearing. Blood watered the earth below those who had tried to flee.

    Ahead of them, men disgorged from a ransacked home with arms laden with gold and trinkets.

    A jinx splashed across one¡¯s cheek, freezing him in place for a polehammer to descend and coat the ground with his brains. The rest fared no better in the face of a team of forewarned adventures.

    Now their lifeblood too graced the streets.

    A woman¡¯s terrified scream broke the night alongside cruel laughter and the bellows of a harsh new language. Once more, unfamiliar speech became her own and Autumn understood every word.

    ¡°Look how these monsters squirm! Haha! Kill her once you¡¯re done, and make it quick, the sjef wants us away before these creatures send for help.¡±

    An icy chill of dread rocked Autumn¡¯s spine.

    She sent off a Mind Whisper to the others, informing them of what she¡¯d heard. Racing off towards the sounds, they were there in less than a few seconds.

    A broken door hung limp from a door frame, kicked in by unkind boots. Bloody handprints marred the edges while cries and pleas of distress echoed from inside.

    Nethlia didn¡¯t hesitate and smashed what remained of the door out of her way in her rage. The shattered remains crashed against the far wall and frightened those inside. A harrowing sight greeted them as they all crested the doorway. A lone demoness lay pinned to the floor under the weight of a brawny raider, her clothes torn asunder till she was near nude.

    Five raiders had gathered inside this abode and now stared in shock at the arrived group of furious adventurers.

    Pure orange eyes pleaded for help.

    Nethlia leaped with an almighty roar, and all hells broke loose.

    Utter carnage and butchery engulfed the enclosed room.

    Autumn¡¯s ears rang as a thrown rune exploded upon a hastily raised shield nearby, turning the wood and hide into nothing more than a hail of splinters. The wielder dropped with a scream of pain and the scent of burning hair. White hot pain lanced the side of Autumn¡¯s face as a wayward fragment of wood scored her cheek.

    Dread magic splashed across the room, freezing those it touched. Autumn erected her magical shield just in time as an axe blow skittered across it. With desperate hands she inflicted Touch of Terror upon the one who dared just before a mighty swing carved in their skull with a shattering crunch, sending blood and teeth scattering across the walls.

    The taste of blood filled Autumn¡¯s mouth, and she was unsure if it was her own.

    In her ears, all she could hear was the pulsing of her heart amidst the ever-present screaming. Adrenaline shook her body as she laid about the room, slashed and casting.

    A keen axe spun wildly across the devastated room towards her. Before Autumn could raise her shield once more, Nelva intercepted it. The weapon quivered an inch from the cavaliers¡¯ dilated eye, embedded within her raised shield. The thrower had but a flash of regret before a lurking pirate grabbed him and opened up his throat in a spray of gore, the crimson further painting the room and Autumn both. Now she was sure it wasn¡¯t her blood in her mouth, gagging she scrubbed at her mouth as the smirking Liddie abandoned the rapidly cooling body.

    Whatever quip she had to say ended up absorbed by the shrill ringing.

    The fight had taken only a bare few seconds of absolute chaos.

    All that remained of the raiders was a pile of sundered dead and one bloodied survivor. He stood by a shuttered window as he bleed down a limp arm. Before he could even utter a single syllable whether in surrender or otherwise, a raging berserker collided with him like a runaway Agoroth.

    Both crashed straight through and back out into the gore-slick streets.

    As the party rushed to exit, Autumn spared a glance for the cowering demoness. Somehow she¡¯d survived the sudden brutality with only a few splinters and a splatter of gore to mar her.

    ¡°Go to the gates! We¡¯ve cleared the way for now! Go!¡± With that, she rushed out into the street after her wayward berserker.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine: A New Nightmare

    A full group of bloodied raiders retreated along a gore-slick street with arms laden in the spoils of their conquests. They¡¯d robbed homes of gold, silver, gems, and jewelry, all the while tearing weapons and armor from the fallen. Over their shoulders they carried the bound forms of tearful slaves, women and children snatched off the streets, some bruised, beaten, and defiled.

    Each raider wished to delight in wanton despoliation a moment longer, but the sounds of renewed combat amongst the roar of flames and plunder alerted them to enemy reinforcements far earlier than they anticipated.

    Now they rushed back through the streets they¡¯d come, as their time of unchallenged ruination had ended.

    Suddenly a window shattered with a violent cascade to deposit a raging barbarian in their midst along a desolate street.

    Nethlia crashed down atop the human she¡¯d tackled through that fateful window. His bones shattered beneath the demoness¡¯ imposing bulk, he spat free a shower of blood alongside a scream of pain.

    Shock stunned the newly arrived pillagers.

    This was the alarming scene Autumn stumbled into as she fled the exit of the demoness¡¯ destroyed home. Just as she skidded to a hurried stop before an enormous man wielding a large two-handed axe, one of the men yelled out in their native tongue.

    ¡°Fuck it¡¯s the Demons! Kill them!¡±

    Once more, violence engulfed the street as the raiders tossed aside their plunder and assaulted the party, forcing them to split apart.

    Autumn found herself before that massively built and heavily bearded, viking-like man. He swung his axe towards her with swift and deadly accuracy. All Autumn could do was summon her shield in haste. The blade bit deep within and lifted Autumn off her feet and flying towards a weakened door of an adjacent building.

    Damaged by fire and plunderers, the door couldn¡¯t withstand the force of a flying witch crashing into it and exploded into a shower of splinters. The magical shield finally gave way as Autumn tumbled inside through mud and hay.

    Burning manure and iron filled Autumn¡¯s nose as she tried to heave what little clean air there was into battered lungs.

    Looking about, she saw she¡¯d been flung into a small stable; barrels of water and feed stacked up against the far wall while rows of pens lined the sides. Dead carcasses of cattle and horses lined all the pens bar one as a lone Nightmare resided within.

    The trapped black horse¡¯s whickering neighs of distress escalated as it saw Autumn crash and tumble in.

    Not too long after her ungainly entry into this ablaze stable, the imposing form of the raider marched within. His eyes shone with intent as he chased after the crumbled girl. Upon reaching her as she scrambled among the mud and hay, he unleashed a powerful kick to her side, sending her flying once more in a haze of coughing.

    Autumn groaned as she rolled to a stop.

    Her newly conjured shield had shattered with that kick. Pain flared along her side from what force had broken through. She was pretty sure one of her ribs had cracked. As Autumn struggled to her feet, the human raider finally got an actual look at her, having simply reacted on instinct before.

    His face flashed with confusion at the sight of a human girl before him.

    ¡°Ay?! What is a shaman-daughter like yourself doing in this demon-lands?¡± his eyes flickered with misplaced understanding and offense.

    ¡°Traitorous whelp! You are cavorting with these foul creatures! What? Your own kind isn¡¯t good enough for you?!¡±

    Autumn glared as she spat out a globe of blood into the ash and mud. With words muddled by pain, she spoke back in his own language.

    ¡°I have no idea what you¡¯re talking about! Why are you even doing this, attacking these people? What did they ever do to you?¡±

    He looked at Autumn in disbelief and anger.

    ¡°People?! These are but monsters. The ancestors would be ashamed of your words, girl! How long have our peoples fought against these demons? How long have these foul things fed upon the grace of our spirits? Too long. As for these particular ¡®people¡¯ here? The strong eat the weak!¡±

    His manic grin gleamed in the flickering firelight.

    ¡°They aren¡¯t monsters, you are!¡±

    His grin turned hard as Autumn yelled.

    ¡°So the pup thinks it has a bite, does it? Good, I¡¯ll enjoy breaking your spirit and if you survive, I think I¡¯ll gift you to my daughter. A shaman-daughter, even a rebellious one, would make a good bride-price.¡±

    Purple-hued magic struck him across the face as he finished talking. Turning slowly, he glared at Autumn, unhindered by the fear she¡¯d tried to impart.

    ¡°You¡¯ll regret that.¡±

    He stalked across the mud and hay as Autumn back-peddled, all the while launching jinx after jinx against his salt and scar-marred body. Each splash of violet energy washed across it like waves upon a rocky shore; sturdy and unhindered by the fear.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Closer and closer to Autumn he came, as she cast with wild abandon.

    Her spells grew stronger in tune with her spiking heart-rate. With each pulsing beat, a violet lightning coursed across the rapidly shrinking gap, and what had been an unhindered step became more and more halting.

    However, it wasn¡¯t enough. A viscous backhand caught her across the face and sent her sprawling into the mud below.

    With blood on her lips and stars in her eyes, Autumn struggled to ordinate herself, only barely twisting about to face the raider. He stood above her, rolling his neck to shake off the discomfort her jinx had inflicted.

    ¡°Hmm, not bad for a pup. Such tricks are useless before the might of a Bearmaw warrior.¡±

    Autumn replied with magic rather than words.

    Mustering all the fear she had inside both her hat and herself, she leveled her wand and cast the greatest jinx she could. A great tidal wave of dread crashed into the raider and he stumbled back, crashing into a burning pillar behind him. The smell of burning flesh and hide assaulted her as the raider screamed. As she scrambled to stand, a forceful stomp shattered the bones in Autumn¡¯s wrist and sent her wand skittering out of reach.

    Autumn screamed as the pain rocked her body.

    A second kick cracked into her jaw and silenced her.

    ¡°Here I was being nice. I suppose that even a pup may draw blood every once in a while.¡± The raider growled as he stalked towards the moaning girl lying in the mud.

    Another kick met Autumn¡¯s ribs, driving her to curl up in pain, whimpering.

    The raider crouched down before Autumn¡¯s battered face and clamped a rough hand around her swollen and bruised jaw. Blood leaked from cracked lips and down porcelain skin onto his callused hands. Autumn glared in defiance of a puffy eye, much to his amusement.

    ¡°Under all that mud and hair, you are quite the looker, aren¡¯t ya. Haha. Have something to say, shaman-daughter?¡±

    The stench of blood, sweat, and cooked meat rolled off him as he breathed foul breath onto Autumn¡¯s face. Her cracked lips parted in a whisper.

    ¡°Hmm, what was that?¡± He mocked as he dragged Autumn up by the chin, her neck straining under the pressure.

    ¡°I said, Fuck You!¡± Autumn plunged her iron knife into his neck like a viper¡¯s strike. While she was clutching at her pulsing pain and writhing in the mud, she¡¯d secreted her keen knife from within her hidden away vambraces. Concealed by her billowing sleeves, she had awaited for the opportune moment to attack. Blood burbled and pooled around the embedded blade as the iron glinted in the firelight.

    ¡°You bitch!¡±

    Autumn¡¯s jaw crunched under a heavy blow, another cracked her eye-socket, and another her temple, causing her to black out.

    She awoke as thick hands twisted around her neck and hauled her aloft. She kicked feebly at the ground and against an unmoving chest. Points of light dotted her vision as the blackness crept in. Choking. Gasping. She struggled again and again, but each movement slowed against her will.

    Screams of a panicking Nightmare drew the last of Autumn¡¯s meager attention. The black horse bucked and thrashed against the stable gate as its hair began burning. Chaotic eyes met with Autumn¡¯s dimming orbs.

    There was a pleading there, a cry for help. There wasn¡¯t much the witch could do. She was out of magic.

    She was dying.

    Slowly. Inch by inch.

    The Ferryman turned his grim smile her way.

    Beautiful, she thought. The Nightmare that is. She didn¡¯t want it to die.

    With a weak, grasping hand, she reached out into the darkness towards that sturdy gate. Perhaps it was luck. The gate had cracked the wood when it was fastened, allowing water to seep in and slowly rot it over the years. With one last enormous kick of the Nightmare, the gate faltered.

    The Nightmare bolted free of its burning fate. It collided heavily with the raider holding Autumn in a choking grasp, sending both humans crashing to the ground before fleeing out into the night.

    Smoky air rushed into Autumn¡¯s lungs as the hands around her throat disappeared and a coughing fit racked Autumn as she collapsed back down onto the floor.

    The raider staggered to his feet away from her, grasping at his neck where blood flowed freely. When the fleeing beast had struck him, the knife had slipped free, now his vital lifeblood spilled freely. Yet, even mortally wounded, he still sought to kill the vulnerable witch. One hand wrenched up the discarded axe to loom threateningly above.

    Eyes of hate glared down at Autumn, but she only grinned through blood and loose teeth, for she had won.

    Silhouetted in the shattered door behind him was a figure like rage incarnate. Her broken lips glinted with blood while shadows cast upon battered and bruised sockets. Shredded clothing hung freely off her right side, leaving one breast free to shine in the light of the fires. Sweat, ash, and gore clung to her skin and matted her hair.

    She stood now a victor and savior both.

    Unaware of his impending doom, the raider growled at Autumn¡¯s defiance. Just as he raised his axe high to kill her, a vial shattered across his back.

    Alchemist¡¯s fire bloomed from the point of impact and ignited. Instantly, a conflagration of immense heat engulfed the raider. He screamed as his muscles and bones flash-boiled, the smell of roasting meat and burning hair ruined what little breathable air remained.

    In a vain attempt to save himself, the scorched human rushed towards the barrels of water he¡¯d seen before and doused himself with it. However, much like Greek fire, Alchemist¡¯s fire was not quenched by water, but encouraged instead. Screams resounded till his lungs melted from the super-heated air and in his final moments of pain and terror, Autumn grabbed what fear she could to refill her hat.

    Pyre watched unblinkingly with quivering, dilated eyes.

    ¡°Pyre.¡± Autumn¡¯s voice rasped.

    The sound broke Pyre from her trance and the disheveled alchemist rushed over to Autumn as she lay on the ground.

    Either she hadn¡¯t yet noticed her state of dress or just didn¡¯t care. After struggling out of her robes, she slipped them over Pyre¡¯s bared shoulders and bound it tight to cover her ashen-lilac breasts. Wide, flaming eyes blinked in confused shock as the reassuring weight of the coat rested upon her and a murmur of thanks escaped her lips.

    ¡°The others?¡± Autumn asked.

    It took a moment for the words to register in Pyre¡¯s mind. ¡°They¡¯re still fighting. I heard you screaming¡­I came as soon as I could.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Autumn bit back a scream as her broken wrist shifted. ¡°We need to get out there and help.¡±

    Pyre nodded distractedly as she shuffled around in her bag.

    ¡°Pyre, we need to go.¡± Autumn attempted to stand, but Pyre pushed her back down.

    ¡°No. Let me wrap that wrist first¡­I¡¯m the healer¡­so, you listen to me now¡­I need to¡­I need.¡± Pyre trailed off as her eyes glazed over.

    ¡°Focus, Pyre.¡± Autumn bit her lip as the pain flared again. ¡°Healer. ok. Wrist. hurts.¡±

    Quickly, Pyre splinted and bound her wrist with bandages, preferring to reserve the healing potions for more life-threatening wounds. After doing so, she helped collect Autumn¡¯s discarded weapons. A hurriedly cleaned knife was stuck back into its vambrace while the wand went into her good hand.

    The pair rushed out of the blazing smoke-filled barn, leaving behind a charred husk of oozing meat.

 Chapter Forty: Everwatch Burns

    Everwatch burned.

    Timbers turned to aught but ash as dark smoke drifted high into the night sky, blocking out the gleaming starfield above. The swirls of gray and the orange of flame enshrouded the eyes of the heavens and gods alike. Far down below, the streets of mud and cobbled stone ran with so many streams of vibrant red. They pooled in eddies great and small around the readily cooling bodies of friend or foe.

    All was the same in death¡¯s embrace.

    Three hundred raiders had come across the shifting seas to crash upon this fortified town. They had burned and plundered their way through and what they could not steal; they broke. In the beginning, they had relished in the bloodletting, in the wrath unleashed upon the weakness they saw in the hastily formed militia. A stormed, burned gate and carved, bloody streets lay behind them. They had butchered with impunity.

    However, now they fought a hard and desperate retreat.

    Skirmishes reignited all across the small town as mighty raiders clashed against the stalwart defense of the much more formidable adventurers. Outflanked and pinned, they caught the raiders.

    The main street had become a warzone.

    A phalanx of spear and shield pushed hard against the mass of sea raiders, backed by the haunting melodies and song-spells. Archer fire raked the road in small volleys, leaving patches of dead and dying. Forced hard against this formation, the raiders sought the sides; but that was where the vanguard lay.

    Ready to cut them down.

    Or at least that was the plan.

    Pain. It pulsed through Autumn¡¯s body as she stumbled from swirling, clawing smoke. Light of a blazing inferno lashed against her strained eyes, causing tears to spring forth. Down ash and blood-coated cheeks they rolled, carving a river. Autumn¡¯s eyes were puffy and bruised; already one has nearly swollen shut. All she could see of the surrounding details was fire, rain, and blood.

    At her feet was another charred and still smoking body; the remains of Pyre¡¯s unfortunate foe. The sweet smell of cooked meat was overbearing, and Autumn¡¯s chest heaved as she fought against the urge to vomit. A task made harder by the pulse of lancing pain that radiated out from her abused ribs.

    Gasping in agony, Autumn cast about for the rest of her party.

    Crashing right into the middle of their foes had allowed the raiders to isolate them rather efficiently down the gore-slick street.

    Nearest to them was Nelva.

    From behind a grim visor, she glared out at a trio of raiders nipping at her like hyenas. Spear and axe thundered down upon her shield, sending chips of bone flying as they cracked and skittered across its hard surface. She pressed her armored back defensively up against a charred, ashen wall.

    Her sword was a viper; striking out with a lightning-fast bite. At the chevalier¡¯s feet, a pair of bodies lay and spilled their guts into the sodden mud.

    A stream of red betrayed her state; a lucky strike had slipped between plates of bone. She favored her wounded side, keeping her weakness away from the opportunistic aggressors.

    Beyond her, Nethlia fought against the massive, lumbering form of a grizzly bear.

    The ursine beast was massive, even when compared to the towering Inferni berserker. Locked in a battle of life and death, the two titans fought tooth and claw. Great hammering blows of iron struck its thick fur and fat to little effect. In return, it swung rending claws that opened up jagged, weeping wounds on her ruby-red skin.

    Roars of fury erupted from both that shook the ground beneath.

    Of the party''s rogue, Autumn had no idea; the wayward pirate was nowhere to be seen.

    At first, Autumn didn¡¯t see Edwyn.

    Craters of mud and rubble littered one side of the street, filled with gore and strange happenings. Frozen shards of ice still dripped with blood while tangling vines held aloft crushed limbs.

    It was only when she cast her hazy vision over the fallen bodies did she spot the Runecaster. There, lying in a pool of mud and blood, was Edwyn. A spear was driven straight through their gut and into the crumbling wall behind. Unused runes spread around them like cast knucklebones telling a terrible fortune.

    Blue eyes fluttered above a blood-caked beard. Edwyn weakly grasped onto the haft of the spear, struggling to free themselves. It was in vain. Strength had left them alongside the stream of scarlet.

    ¡°Pyre! Edwyn¡¯s hurt!¡±

    Autumn¡¯s voice was still croaky as she cried out to her friend.

    Seizing Pyre¡¯s wrist, she hurried over. Her feet caught upon loose stones and mutilated bodies as she stumbled toward the dying Manus. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as their breaths became shallower and shallower.

    The pair crashed down into the befouled mud. Autumn ripped her Tome free and, with frantic fingers, paged through, looking for the spell she knew. Balanced on her knee, Autumn re-read the spell. She¡¯d not had much opportunity to practice Delay Death, for obvious reasons.

    ¡°Hold on Edwyn! We¡¯re not gonna let you die!¡±

    Edwyn chuckled.

    ¡°Haha, don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m not going anywhere, they haven¡¯t paid me yet.¡±

    She almost lost their soft mumbles amongst the shouts of combat and the clinking of potions in quivering fingers. Suddenly, their morbid laughter devolved into a series of coughing splutters.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°Delay Death!¡±

    Autumn knew she didn¡¯t need to shout, but at the moment, it felt right. Fear coursed through her overwrought channels with a burn. A red-hot poker of pain dragged through her veins. Overcasting before had stretched her miniscule channels to their limits and, like a muscle, it tore to be built stronger again.

    It would still hurt like hell in the meantime.

    With a trepidatious heart, they watched as the blood that bubbled out around the spear slowed to a stop. Edwyn¡¯s fate was postponed. However, Autumn knew it would only last a bare handful of moments.

    ¡°Pyre. What do we do now?! Edwyn¡¯s still got a spear in them, and this spell won¡¯t last forever.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s words went unheard. Wide eyes of flame stared in horror at the mortal wound. Shock clouded her features. The sight before her was unfamiliar, and it was almost too much for the younger girl. White-knuckled fingers froze around a vial of glowing red liquid as the enormity of the task unveiled itself.

    Reaching over, Autumn shook the dazed healer.

    ¡°Pyre! I need you to focus! Listen to my voice. Edwyn needs your help. I need your help. I know you can do this. You need to tell me what to do.¡±

    Pyre gulped.

    A look of steely determination hardened across her face. Her flames grew ever hotter and brighter as she focused. She uncorked a healing potion that blossomed with the scent of strawberries and medicine.

    ¡°Alright. Autumn, I need you to pull that spear free when I say. We need the wound clear or it¡¯ll just close up around whatever¡¯s stuck in there. I¡­I haven¡¯t seen it myself, but I¡¯ve heard it¡¯s not pretty.¡±

    Autumn nodded before turning to Edwyn.

    ¡°Ok. Edwyn? We¡¯ll be quick. Do you need something for the pain?¡±

    ¡°Grr. Whiskey. On my belt.¡±

    Quickly rummaging, Autumn found a pair of stone bottles. Opening the heavy lids, the powerful smell of liquor flowed freely. She carefully fed Edwyn before washing her hands with the rest, much to the Manus¡¯ horror. With gritted teeth, the spellcaster gave her a weak thumbs up.

    ¡°Ach, do it!¡±

    Autumn seized the spear as best she could with only one hand, having to wrap an arm around it, to Edwyn¡¯s muffled protests.

    ¡°Pull it now!¡±

    On Pyre¡¯s mark, she wrenched the spear free. An agonizing scream tore through clenched teeth. The spear fell to the side with a clatter, smeared with gore and torn organs.

    Autumn fought the urge to vomit.

    Edwyn¡¯s guts had to be stuffed back inside their splayed open abdomen as quickly and carefully as they could manage. A splash of healing potion coated the ripped intestines, sealing them shut. Another splash caused muscle, sinew, and skin to mend before their eyes at a rapid pace. The last few dregs ended up poured down Edwyn¡¯s raw throat.

    With a heave, Edwyn spat out a lung full of blood and phlegm off to the side. .

    ¡°Arch¡­Thanks. Now gae an help the others¡­A¡¯ll juist, rest here a moment.¡±

    With Edwyn now stabilized, Autumn turned her attention to the ongoing fights. Not much had changed since she last looked. A trio of fighters still surrounded Nelva while Nethlia battled against a mighty bear.

    Autumn raised her wand up.

    There was nothing left in her tank; all her power spent. However, all was not lost, for the air roiled with a town¡¯s worth of stark terror. Like a dense fog, it drifted over the burning fires. With desperation, she pulled as much as she could down and into her wand arm and like a gunshot, a jinx rocketed across towards those who threatened Nelva.

    It missed.

    The blast splashed across the wall beside them, but it was enough to make them flinch.

    Nelva struck in an instant.

    One raider dropped to the sodden mud, clutching at their burbling throat. A crimson grin grew beneath pallid fingers. Nelva attempted to strike the others, but her wound slowed her and they danced out of reach.

    Without a word, they turned and ran.

    Autumn collapsed back into the mud and gore as her arm hung limply at her side. Pushing that last attack out was a mistake as the feeling of a thousand angry ants marched up and down her veins. The channels had finally torn and, until they healed, Autumn could not cast.

    She was officially out of the fight.

    As she lay in the scarlet mud, she watched as Nethlia roared, blinded by rage. The berserker thrashed against the ursine beast, pummeling it with nearly ineffectuality strikes. Still, the bear rocked with the blows.

    Angered by her continued defiance, it rose and slammed down upon her. Nethlia¡¯s heels dug into the mud as she held the bear at bay. Her muscles strained. Her hand clenched tight around the bear¡¯s paws. With gritted teeth, she pushed it back with surprising, herculean strength.

    Whether she could have finished the bear alone, they¡¯d never know, for a white blade severed one straining leg clean from its paw. Fur, muscle, and bone parted with contemptuous ease.

    With a roar of agony, it stumbled back.

    Another swipe cleaved the other leg, and it fell with an enormous crash that shifted the ground underneath. Confused, hurt, and fearful, it glanced over at what had harmed it so.

    There stood Liddie, unruffled despite the carnage abound. A gleaming smile traced her lips. A blade of pure white metal whistled as she swirled her wrist.

    ¡°...and Liddie Eastoft saves the day once more, and the crowd goes wild¡­roarrrr.¡±

    Liddie danced away from a swiping claw before she separated that too. Her grin was vicious as she taunted the dying creature.

    Nethlia stood nearby, huffing as steam wafted off her body. Eyes burned into Liddie with fiery rage. With a sundering crash, her polehammer cracked into the bear¡¯s skull over and over till it lay still and dead.

    ¡°That. Was. My. Kill.¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s voice was like a thunderstorm as she rounded on the lackadaisical pirate. The two stood inches apart and their height couldn¡¯t be more obvious. Gritted teeth shone in the fight light along with tensed muscles.

    Liddie just smirked up at her.

    ¡°What? Not even a thank you? Maybe later you can buy a girl a stiff drink?¡±

    With murder in her eyes, Nethlia backed down and wrestled with her growing fury. As she saw the raiders fleeing into the distance, she grasped her weapon with tight hands. The wood creaked under the strain. With thunderous steps, she started stalking after her prey.

    ¡°Wait!¡±

    Autumn called out, to which Nethlia spun.

    ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    The air cracked under the force of her shout.

    Autumn flinched back. Her heart hammered in her chest like rapid hoofbeats. Cowering slightly, she gestured around to the rest of the party.

    ¡°We¡­we can¡¯t move. They wounded most of us and Edwyn can¡¯t even walk¡­they nearly died. We have to¡­to¡­regroup or something.¡±

    Autumn crushed the sob that burbled up.

    Around her, the rest of her group slumped. Nelva clutched at her side while Pyre attempted to quell the blood flow with gauze and sparing drops of healing potion. Edwyn lay still in a pool of gore, barely staying awake. Only Liddie had really escaped any sort of injury. Even Nethlia herself displayed plentiful weeping cuts.

    And it wasn¡¯t just them.

    The beaten, assaulted, and ultimately captured demonic residents of the town still lay bound along the roadside where they fell. Somehow, they¡¯d miraculously survived the escalating violence unscathed. At this moment, they were all staring at the wounded and arguing adventurers in a mixture of gratitude, caution, and fear.

    They treated Autumn, the human, with far greater suspicion and fear.

    Nethlia snarled at the escaping raiders.

    ¡°Fuck! Fine! Fine. Let¡¯s head back then. Maybe one of the other teams can spare a cleric?¡±

 Chapter Forty-One: Aftermath

    The everpour coming down from the darkened skies finally dampened the roaring flames. Luckily, most of the town survived the raging inferno. Only those nearest the outbreak had truly been affected. Homes and shops still smoldered even as all their dry fuel was exhausted.

    A wet tunic clung to Autumn¡¯s exhausted form. In her rush, she¡¯d forgotten to grab her raincoat from the wagon and now, without her robe¡¯s protective warmth, she was soaked and shivering. Not that she blamed Pyre. Preserving the younger girl¡¯s modesty was well worth a lesser discomfort on her part.

    Still, the icy night winds were like knives across her battered skin.

    Ahead of her was Nethlia. The large berserker had cooled somewhat from her enraged state. And in her mild embarrassment, hadn¡¯t looked Autumn in the eye since. She strode restlessly forth, dragging behind her a door that the party had fashioned into a stretcher for the crippled Edwyn. The Manus had initially objected, but the pain and Pyre¡¯s instance had forced them upon the battered wood.

    Behind the group, a gaggle of demonic civilians followed in their wake.

    What was the plural for demons anyway? A horde? A grouping? A roaming? A gagglefuck?

    The gagglefuck of young demons and demonesses had been part of the group Autumn and her crew had rescued inadvertently. Even so, they treated the lone human with wariness. Autumn didn¡¯t blame them, but it was annoying to be treated this way after all she¡¯d been through.

    Sounds of a fierce argument grew louder as the group came into sight of the broken and charred gate. Captain Ekrus was looming aggressively over the smaller Inferni; Captain Morlech. Rain was steaming off the muscular Inferni as he shouted down the Duskguard¡¯s captain.

    ¡°You¡¯re a fucking coward! We were fighting for our lives against those animals and you let them escape! And you have the gall to say it was a ¡®tactical necessity¡¯?! How. Fucking. Dare. You!¡±

    Spittle sprayed as he practically growled the last few words. Captain Morlech¡¯s teal skin visibly darkened.

    ¡°How dare I?! How dare you! I¡¯m the commanding officer here and I''ll be damned if I let some uppity woodsmen tell me how to do my job! If I say it was a tactical necessity, then it was!¡±

    Captain Morlech sneered, rather stupidly in Autumn¡¯s opinion, up at the much larger and stronger berserker whose eyes flashed with murderous intent.

    Behind each captain were their subordinates. Ekrus¡¯ sons gripped their axes tight as their own eyes flashed. Across from them, the Duskguard shifted nervously in the rain. At the pace things were going, it was looking more likely that they¡¯d come to blows.

    It was luck then that Nethlia had arrived to cool tensions.

    ¡°What in all the fucking hells is going on here?! Where the fuck did those raiders go?!¡±

    Scratch that last part.

    Nethlia stormed between the groups, somehow looking even angrier than she had ever before. Her face was stony as she glared at the pair.

    Captain Ekrus growled.

    ¡°The good captain here couldn¡¯t keep his poxy men from breaking and those animals pushed through and are now making their way to their ships. And none of us are in any sort of position to ride them down. The Rain Knights might''ve had a chance before they got to the rougher terrain, but this fucking imbecile couldn¡¯t even do that right!¡±

    Captain Morlech spluttered in anger.

    ¡°Now you look here. If you incompetents had¡¯ve killed the beasts they were running about with, I could have crushed those human scum beneath my Rain Knight¡¯s hooves. But, seeing as you did not, it was too much of a risk and I deemed it detrimental to our goals to risk the lives of my knights. Lest you have forgotten, then I¡¯ll kindly remind you. We have a ¡®quest¡¯ to take care of. Don¡¯t you mercenary types like your ¡®adventures¡¯?¡±

    It was now Nethlia''s turn to growl.

    ¡°Alright! Shut the fuck up, both of you! We have wounded to take care of and fires to put out. Captain Arsit, can you spare a cleric to heal my party while we go over things? The sooner everyone¡¯s back on their feet, the better.¡±

    Captain Arsit nodded to one of the clerics in his unit and they made their way over.

    Like the rest of her troupe, she was a Lepus. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, or at least the Lepus¡¯ equivalent. Long black bunny ears curved back against her head of braided hair. For armor she wore a set of gold-painted heavy-plate of bone and iron over white and gold silk flowing robes. A gilded sword lay on her hips and a kite shield girded her tall back.

    The cleric crouched down beside the pallid Edwyn. Gently, her hands laid down upon their wounds and she uttered a prayer.

    ¡°Oh Netix, Goddess of honor, hear your righteous servant. I beseech you to mend this wounded one who protected all things honorable. Heal them so that they may rise to honor you with noble combat and glory!¡±

    A bright light emerged beneath her calloused hands, and Edwyn¡¯s tense face smoothed. Color returned slightly to their cheeks. With a sigh of relief, they slumped into a restful slumber as the adrenaline faded.

    The young cleric sat back with sweat dotting her brow.

    ¡°Does anyone else need healing? I think I can do one more.¡±

    Autumn gestured over to Nelva. While they had closed her wounds with sparing drops of healing potion, the Chevalier¡¯s wound could reopen at any time. Nelva¡¯s warm chocolate skin had faded with blood-loss.

    Once more the cleric laid her hands open a wound and chanted a soft prayer. And as the bright light faded, Nelva offered a murmur of thanks to both the cleric and the goddess. Rocking back on her heels with sweat coated her forehead, the cleric offered Autumn an apologetic look.

    ¡°Sorry, but I¡¯m all out. I can¡¯t risk channeling anymore of my mistress¡¯ power. I have basic medical supplies and herbs if you need them. Something for the pain?¡±

    Autumn shook her head, which was a mistake, as it just made her dizzy.

    Stolen novel; please report.

    ¡°Thanks, but I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ve an alchemist on my team, she¡¯ll take care of it.¡±

    Suddenly a shouted exclamation broke the night.

    Glancing over, Autumn saw that one of the Inferni they had rescued was now standing beside the newly arrived militia. The motley-looking group was armed with a variety of weapons, from the usual spears and halberds to hammers, clubs, sickles, and even pitchforks. Right now, all their eyes had turned towards Autumn as the demon pointed her way.

    ¡°That¡¯s her! The human, she was with the raiders! I overheard her conspiring with them! She was speaking in their guttural language!¡±

    A chill ran down her spine.

    Captain Morlech puffed up with righteous indignation.

    ¡°I knew it! You adventurers planned this whole fiasco. Riding in here like heroes just to take the credit from the Duskguard, but it was all a play; a staged drama. But, you didn¡¯t fool me!¡±

    In a rage, Ekrus grabbed the blustering captain by his lapels and hoisted him high.

    ¡°Shut your fucking mouth before I smash your teeth down it!!!¡±

    The Duskguard leveled their spears against the sudden violence and in response, adventurer weapons cleared their scabbards. A tense standoff broke out as the side arrayed themselves.

    ¡°Put me down you¡­you¡­great big oaf!!¡±

    Captain Morlech¡¯s feet kicked uselessly at the ground as he dangled.

    From where Autumn sat, she found herself surrounded by a protective wall of adventurers. Not just her own team either, even the rather stoic Red Scorpions clustered around her, bearing their poisoned weaponry. And at her side, Pyre clutched one of her last vials of Alchemist¡¯s fire in a tight grip.

    Heartbeats thundered in Autumn¡¯s ears.

    Slowly and calmly, Captain Arsit stepped out from the crowd into the center. The Lepus man stood between the two groups with his arms outstretched. A few of his knights clustered around him, glaring menacingly at everyone.

    ¡°How about we all calm down? I¡¯m sure there is a reasonable explanation for all this.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a human. What¡¯s there to explain?!¡±

    The angry shout came from within the cluster of armed citizenry. A rising clamor of angry agreement followed it. Autumn wondered if perhaps she should have followed Witch Augus¡¯ advice and fled when the pitchforks and torches came out.

    Nethlia growled like a wild dog as she stood protectively in front of Autumn.

    ¡°She is an adventurer and a member of my team. If it wasn¡¯t for us, this town would¡¯ve burned to the fucking ground! So, if you want to get to her, you¡¯ll have to go through me. And I¡¯m done playing nice.¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s provocation did little to dissuade them. As they outnumbered the adventurers, their confidence swelled despite the vast gulf in quality of arms, armor, and experience. Just as the mob''s fervor reached a boiling point, a sharp whistle cut through the air.

    Captain Arsit removed his fingers from his mouth and gave everyone an irate glare.

    ¡°I thought I said to calm the fuck down. That includes you, Captain Nethlia. While I appreciate your protectiveness of your team, anger will not help matters. And Captain Ekrus, put Captain Morlech down. All his shouting is giving me a helluva headache.¡±

    He calmly turned towards Autumn.

    ¡°Now, Witch Autumn, could you please tell us your side of the story?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s heart pounded beneath the furious weight of the stares. Sweat dripped down her back in a tide. And as she licked her cracked, swollen lips she tasted iron. Whose blood it was she didn¡¯t know.

    With a painful jaw, she slowly spoke.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t ¡®conspiring¡¯ with anyone. If you couldn¡¯t tell from my face, they attacked me as well. I almost died. As for my ¡®speaking¡¯ with them? I have a spell that lets me understand languages. It¡¯s the reason I can even speak Infernal at all. That¡¯s it. No grand conspiracy.¡±

    Blood welled up in Autumn¡¯s mouth as a cut inside her cheek bled. Without care of her image, she spat out the blood off to the side. Her jaw pulsed with agony just from the brief conversation.

    Captain Morlech scoffed.

    ¡°Are we supposed to believe that some backwater witch would know such a powerful spell? Sheer lunacy! Not even the Scribe¡¯s Guild has access to such, and if they do, they keep it under strict supervision. If you¡¯re going to make up lies, human, make them more believable.¡±

    Captain Arsit turned on the overweight captain.

    ¡°Did I say you could talk? No? The adults are talking now. So shut up or I¡¯ll have Captain Ekrus shut you up. ¡±

    The Lepus captain gave Autumn an apologetic look.

    ¡°Not that I disbelieve you Witch Autumn, but is there any way you can prove it?¡±

    ¡°If what you¡¯re asking is if I can cast it on anyone else, then the answer is no. However, I can speak languages I¡¯ve not studied before like Infernal or Lepian? I don¡¯t even know if that¡¯s the right name for it, but I can speak it. Although, that¡¯d just prove I¡¯m a polyglot.¡±

    Halfway through her sentence, she switched over to the Lepus¡¯ language to prove it.

    Captain Arsit just gave her a humorous smile.

    ¡°While it is called Lepian, you¡¯re speaking in a Blonhofnian dialect.¡± He turned towards the Umbra elves. ¡°Captain Xiltuil, you speak Umbral, right? Care to say a few words to our friend here? I very much doubt a human would¡¯ve had much opportunity to learn the intricacies of such a language.¡±

    Captain Xiltuil shrugged lightly before speaking to Autumn.

    ¡°If you can understand me, raise your left hand up with your palm down.¡±

    Her arm hurt a little alongside her pride, but she complied.

    Autumn vowed in her heart to master this strange power of hers. Already it had landed her in trouble, although it wasn¡¯t her fault. One day she¡¯d end up speaking languages that mortal ears couldn¡¯t or shouldn¡¯t hear. And also, she didn¡¯t want to be kidnapped by the scribes and spend the rest of her days translating ancient texts.

    Seemingly mollified somewhat, the crowd dispersed under the watchful eyes of the adventurers. They threw unkind looks Autumn¡¯s way as they left.

    Not that she cared.

    All she wanted right now was to get out of her wet clothes and into a pile of warm furs and blankets. And on a hill outside the town, that¡¯s what she did. Inside her tent, she cast aside her wet clothes for future Autumn to take care of and crawled naked into her soft bedding. However, before she could retreat into her dreams, a soft calling came from her tent entrance. Pyre was kneeling just outside Autumn¡¯s tent in the rain, still wearing Autumn¡¯s robes. Half a glowing vial of healing potion was held in her hand alongside her medical bag.

    ¡°Autumn? Can I come in? I¡¯ve got some healing potion and your robes. Sorry if I got them dirty.¡±

    Autumn winced as she raised herself up to look at Pyre, her furs held against her naked and bruised skin.

    ¡°Yes please, I could really use that right now.¡±

    Pyre crawled into the tent to squeeze in behind Autumn. With careful dabs of a gauze cloth soaked in a healing potion, Autumn¡¯s wounds began the long process of healing. The scent of strawberry medicine filled up the tent. When Autumn had stopped hissing and flinching at the soft touches, Pyre gave the rest of the potion over for her to drink.

    It tasted like strawberries.

    ¡°Do all healing potions taste like this?¡±

    Pyre blushed.

    ¡°No. Usually, they taste rather bland. This is a personal recipe. I was able to improve the taste without jeopardizing the effects.¡±

    Autumn had no idea how difficult that was, but it sounded impressive.

    ¡°Hey, Autumn? Can I ask a favor?¡±

    ¡°Pyre, you saved my life. You can ask anything you want.¡±

    Pyre hesitated a moment, her bright flaming eyes quivered a moment.

    ¡°Can I¡­Can I sleep here, with you? I don¡¯t want to be alone.¡±

    Autumn saw the roiling fear even without her magical sight.

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    The pair laid down next to one another underneath the warmth of furs and comforted by the other¡¯s heat. Above them, the leather canvas beat with the steady tune of rain.

    ¡°Autumn?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡±

    ¡°I want to go home.¡±

    ¡°Me too Pyre. Me too.¡±

 Chapter Forty-Two: The Misplaced Inn

    Autumn winced as she bumped against the side of the wagon for the umpteenth time. Every time it rode over a rock or divot in the road, it¡¯d throw her and the others about rather violently inside the cramped interior. The roads became much worse ever since they¡¯d left Everwatch behind; easily catching the wheels in the deep mud. And the further they traveled up the northeast road towards the flooded coast, the heavier the rains pounded down upon them.

    Already the lashing downpour threatened to puncture their leather protection.

    According to Autumn¡¯s map, the next stop on their journey was the Misplaced Inn, situated right on top of a T-junction. The oddly named inn sat right on the border of the rainforests and the farmlands. It wasn¡¯t a far distance to travel even with the roads the way they were; perhaps a day¡¯s travel if they were lucky.

    Hopefully, there¡¯d be enough rooms to shelter the convoy for the night. She hadn¡¯t got much rest last night as nightmares and shaking had plagued both her and Pyre.

    Autumn focused her wandering attention back on her task.

    For the better part of the chilly morning, she¡¯d occupied herself with helping Pyre grind up a series of herbs into a mushy concoction. The crushed plants emitted an aromatic smell which was far more pleasant than the musk of unwashed adventurers and the lingering iron of blood.

    She¡¯d kill for a hot shower right now.

    On the plus side, Autumn had her warm robes back. Pyre had changed into a spare dress early in the morning. But unfortunately, given the state of Autumn''s abused magical abilities, they couldn''t magically fix her ruined dress. However, Autumn had a fresh sewing kit tucked away in her bag that she¡¯d brought way back in Duskfields. She had intended to use it in her blackcraft, but helping her friend was a good use of it.

    At the moment, she was helping Pyre by running a stone pestle around a mortar. The fairly monotonous task provoked Autumn to seek ways to entertain herself, such as humming to herself under her breath.

    Many moons ago, she once sang in that enchanting Noctua language and shocked herself by not being tone deaf. Ever since then, she¡¯d had a hunch that whatever allowed her to understand the languages of this world had a broader definition of what exactly constituted a ¡®language¡¯.

    Thus, she was testing it.

    Autumn softly murmured a few bars from one of her favorite songs and the near perfect rendition proved her right. The only flaws came from her still sore throat, hitching every so often. A far cry from her usual caterwauling.

    If music was a language all on its own, what else was?

    ¡°Won¡¯t you drag the lake and bring me home again.¡±

    Pyre¡¯s hands paused in her own tedious work.

    ¡°That¡¯s not Common.¡±

    The tune Autumn sang halted. Raising her black eyes, she met with the bright dancing ones across the ground up herbs. Secrets and promises flashed by in an instant.

    ¡°No. I suppose it¡¯s not.¡±

    Pyre ducked her head back down.

    ¡°It sounded nice, whatever that song was. Could you sing it for me in Infernal? Even I find grinding up herbs rather boring.¡±

    A shy and tiny relieved smile grace the corners of Autumn¡¯s lips.

    ¡°Sure, but I can¡¯t guarantee it¡¯ll translate properly.¡±

    Autumn began softly singing to her audience of one.

    ¡°What doesn''t kill you

    Makes you wish you were dead¡­¡±

    <hr>

    The herbal concoction tasted like wet grass.

    Autumn grimaced as she continued to chew on it.

    This rather unpleasant mixture had the properties of improving one¡¯s resistance to blood-borne diseases; something she needed after ingesting known sources of blood yesterday. It reassured her to know this world, or at least this nation, knew something about medicine.

    It still tasted awful.

    In return for her aid, both today and yesterday, Autumn translated her tome¡¯s recipes for the alchemist¡¯s perusal. However, most of the recipes required witchcraft to make, like the healing cream. But Pyre didn¡¯t care about that; just knowing what ingredients achieve certain effects was a major boon towards the creation and improvement of potions.

    Autumn was happy for the girl.

    Just as the frosty night began climbing onto the far horizon, they arrived at the Misplaced Inn.

    A vast curtain of water poured off of an umbrella-like forcefield sitting high above the roundabout-looking junction; only a corridor for the roads was clear of the deluge. Directly beneath it was a spike-topped wall ringing the outside edges that looked to be molded from a single piece of stone. Rather than bearing any gatehouse, each entrance housed twin towers of coiling copper that were sparkling and crackling with menacing violet lightning.

    Autumn¡¯s hair literally stood on end as she passed beneath the watchful gaze of the lightning throwers.

    The Inn itself was no less strange than its protections.

    Glowing mage lights dotted an amalgamation of many inns and taverns of vastly different styles: wooden, stone, clay, and even concrete buildings stacked upon each other in an odd harmony. Iron chains drifted and clinked together in the wind as they held onto floating gardens of vegetables, flowers, and even a few fruit trees. Crooked pillars haphazardly supported and connected all the disparate elements and overhanging balconies.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Autumn gawked up at the peculiar building.

    ¡°Pfff. Your face looks so stupid right now.¡±

    Liddie laughed at Autumn.

    ¡°Leave off of her. Let¡¯s just get inside.¡± Nethlia reprimanded the pirate.

    Autumn glared after the smirking pirate as they headed around to a stable beside the Inn. Once they¡¯d unlimbered their Agoroth Kira and stored their wagon away, they headed inside.

    A fantastical sight greeted them as they entered.

    The inn¡¯s interior stretched out farther than the outside suggested, filled with floors of balconies and parlors. Long dragon-like mage lights gracefully swam through the air above, casting a gentle glow down to illuminate the diners. The tables and chairs stood on a truly opulent floor; cobblestones of gleaming white, connected by gold sand. Even with its grand size the inn was still packed with a myriad of patrons, far more than there should be in such a remote area of the province. Most of them were of races Autumn had seen before, but a not insignificant portion were of strange, almost alien folks.

    Dancing between the crowded tables with an inhuman grace were autonomous servers: porcelain golems of androgynous humanoid forms. Some bore multiple arms laden with trays of wondrous foods, others rolled along on tall, thin wheels or even floated on arcane winds as they patrolled in servitude. Autumn saw several spinning their limbs, head, and entire torso 360 degrees without issue.

    To their side was a bar and reception, behind which the proprietor awaited them.

    A great snowy-white beard hung from an elderly human¡¯s face. Twinkling eyes gazed out from under bushy white eyebrows and a classic blue wizard¡¯s hat, dotted with stitched on white stars.

    Seeing them approach, he loudly cleared his throat and spoke out in a wizened voice.

    ¡°Greetings and welcome to the Misplaced Inn. My name is¡­is¡­well I don¡¯t quite recall? No matter. For some of you, this is your first time here. There¡¯s no need to tell me. I¡¯ve a mind like a steel trap; never forget a face. Now¡­what was I saying?¡±

    He paused and stroked his beard in thought.

    ¡°Oh yes! The rules. Well¡­they¡¯re more like warnings or guidelines. Rule number one: be wary of the doors; they don¡¯t take you where you think they will. I¡¯ve tried to convince them to do their jobs properly, but the best I could manage was to keep the front door where it was and not allow others into bedrooms they¡¯re not keyed to.¡±

    Autumn blinked as she took in the deluge.

    ¡°Rule number two: uhh¡­hang on. Rule two? What was it again?¡±

    The wizard hummed.

    ¡°Oh right! The keys. Ahem, One person to one room. No funny business! This ain¡¯t that kind of establishment! Only the person keyed to the bedroom may enter it. Rule number three: There is a considerable amount of entertainment and workshop spaces hidden somewhere in this place. If you can find them, you can use them; see rule one. And finally, rule number three: money up front! 10 gold per person per day!¡±

    Most of the party were shocked by that price, only Liddie and Nethlia seemed to expect it.

    ¡°10 gold!¡± Autumn spoke out.

    The wizard drew himself up.

    ¡°Rest assured, the price is well worth it! It¡¯s an ¡®all inclusive¡¯ price, made that term up by myself, you know? This is unlimited food and drinks, a room, and you can use whatever supplies you find in the workshops. I¡¯d suggest the alchemy room for the young alchemist. Last I saw, it was on the second floor, somewhere. I¡¯d also recommend a Mage¡¯s Repose, that¡¯s a drink; it¡¯ll help soothe those damaged channels you¡¯ve got.¡±

    Autumn grumbled as she fished out her coin pouch. Even by her limited understanding of this empire¡¯s economy, she knew this was an absurd price. As if to confirm her thoughts, Pyre tugged ashamedly on Autumn¡¯s sleeve. Looking over, she saw pitiful eyes and a hollow purse.

    Sighing, she paid for them both.

    Nethlia gave the group a wane smile.

    ¡°We¡¯ll cover this as a party expense. Ah shit, I mean shoot, we didn¡¯t assign someone to keep track of that, did we?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll do it!¡± Liddie volunteered.

    Blank looks were cast at the party¡¯s rogue before eyes shifted to Autumn.

    ¡°I can do it. I¡¯m already keeping track of my own expenses anyway. Just tell me later what consumables you use: potions, runes, damaged equipment, etc. and their price.¡±

    The wizard gave an impatient cough.

    ¡°All paid up? Good, go find a seat or something. I¡¯ll send a server your way with a menu.¡±

    Shooed off by the ancient wizard, the party picked their way through the crowds to one of the few free tables. As soon as they sat down, crystal glasses filled with differing beverages teleported onto their tables in a puff of glittering smoke. The one before Autumn was unmistakingly familiar to her; the dark liquid bubbling and popping.

    Taking a desperate sip confirmed what she hoped: it was cola.

    ¡°So, what did you think of the inn¡¯s notorious proprietor?¡± Nethlia asked with a curious smile.

    Autumn reluctantly gazed up from her drink.

    ¡°Umm. It surprised me to see another human here, but I suppose an elderly wizard can go where they please, right?¡±

    Pyre looked confused as Autumn described the inn-keeper.

    ¡°He? Are you still concussed or something? That was clearly an elven woman. Did you not see her curves and pointed ears?¡±

    It was Autumn¡¯s turn to be confused and a little annoyed.

    ¡°Haha, very funny, but I think I can tell the difference between an old human man and an elven woman.¡±

    Nethlia chuckled and drew both of their ire. Nelva and Edwyn looked somewhat confused as well.

    ¡°There¡¯s no need to quarrel. It¡¯s just another one of this inn¡¯s quirks. Nobody is sure how it works and the owner isn¡¯t telling, but everybody sees someone different. It¡¯s not just looks but personality and temperament too. We are all lucky; I¡¯ve heard that someone got a fireball in the face for taking too long paying, but that could just be a rumor.¡±

    ¡°Wait, so every time we come here we¡¯ll meet someone new?¡± Nelva asked.

    ¡°No, it only happens the first time you arrive. After that, they¡¯ll stay the same for you. I see a ten-year-old elven boy running the place. It¡¯s certainly a strange sight to see.¡±

    The conversation stalled when a lithe golem rolled up to their table. A blank human-like mask stared with glowing eyes as it deposited menus onto the table. They were blank. Before Autumn could ask the obvious question the server answered it for her.

    ¡°Statement: Honored Guests. Please place your hand upon: The Menu of Desire.¡±

    When Autumn did so words started appearing as if written by an invisible quill. Soon it was filled with any and every dish Autumn wanted: burgers, pizzas, pies, stir-fries, sushi, and many more. Tears welled up in her eyes as the memories of home thundered into her mind.

    ¡°All inclusive they said?¡±

    ¡°Affirmative Answer: That is correct. Honored Guest. Order as much as you like.¡±

    Autumn selected everything. Far more than what she could eat alone. She turned her eyes to her companions browsing their own menus.

    ¡°Would you like to try food from my home? I promise they''re really good.¡±

    Surprise flickered across the other¡¯s eyes for a fraction of a second. Grins of merriment began sprouting up around the table.

    ¡°Sure. Gin we''re eatin food from yer home, let''s also share our own. Prepare yerself for the finest cuisine from the under-mountains.¡±

    Before long the table was filled to bursting with food, drinks, and well-deserved laughter.

 Chapter Forty-Three: A Tipsy Witch

    Mage¡¯s Repose was an odd but soothing drink. It was non-alcoholic, more of a tincture or minor potion than anything else. A bright blue liquid swirled about in her crystal glass like a storm; almost depthless. When she sipped it, a satisfying chill ran down her throat and out to her limbs, alleviating her magical aches and pains.

    With the cold drink in hand, Autumn curiously looked about.

    She was lost.

    After the party polished off their enormous banquet, they¡¯d split up to explore the wondrous inn. Each member parted with a specific goal or destination in mind. Whether they¡¯d find it was another matter entirely.

    Nethlia spared them a brief goodbye before marching off to find the other captains. Ostensibly, that was to go over their route in the morning, but Autumn felt the berserker was embarrassed. Ever since the fiasco at Everwatch, she¡¯d not looked Autumn in the eye.

    In direct opposition to their currently moody captain, there was Lidde. The unreserved pirate had flounced off with arms over the shoulders of both a man and woman. The less Autumn thought about that, the better.

    Any hope of companionship with Pyre was dashed when the alchemist informed her that she¡¯d be in search of an alchemy lab to replenish their stocks. It was her responsibility as the party¡¯s healer to keep an ample supply of healing potions on hand. Thus, she too vanished into the twisting bowels of this magical inn.

    As both Nelva and Edwyn had yet to fully heal, the pair took a more languid approach to exploring. Meaning they¡¯d taken it upon themselves to try to outdo the near instant refills of booze. To be fair, they were making a good show of it.

    What this all ultimately meant was that they left Autumn to explore by herself.

    Thus, she instantly got lost.

    It wasn¡¯t really her fault as the first doorway she passed through spat her out into a random hallway. When she turned around to see the way back, what should have been a dining hall was missing. Instead, there was a well-stocked library beckoning her. With nothing else to lose, Autumn took a curious step inside. However, her intended perusal of the library was not meant to be. The second she crossed the threshold, the library turned into a fighting arena, complete with a sandpit.

    Autumn mused that if one was truly unlucky they might end up forever trapped by these twisting portals.

    With a whimsy spring in her step, Autumn allowed the doors to carry her where they may.

    Each of her long strides took her wandering through the ever-changing doors. Rooms flashed by her: a stage passed her by, then a bar, a private room, a ballroom, and even a full indoor gymnasium.

    The sight of the last gave her pause.

    Oh, how she wanted to run, to feel that track pounding away beneath her feet. If not for the dull ache of her complaining ribs, she just might have. With regret in her heart and reluctance in her steps, she turned away and strode through another yawning portal.

    Perhaps the doors favored her or maybe they just grew sick of her aimless wandering, for the next room she entered held familiar faces. Not her teammates, but a few of the friendly adventurers she¡¯d greeted here or there on the journey. A diverse group of six sat around a gambling table with cards in hand while a diminished deck sat on the table-top.

    ¡°Witch Autumn! Care to join us for a friendly game of Adventurer¡¯s Gambit?¡±

    Noticing her entrance, a tall Inferni demon called out. It took a second, but Autumn recognized him as Arvius, one of Captain Ekrus¡¯ sons in the Nemesis Crew. Sat beside him was the much smaller Felis form of Eme. The catgirl¡¯s ears swiveled in Autumn¡¯s direction before her wide, glistening eyes followed. Other than them, the only other face Autumn knew was that of Delight, the Inferni bardic dancer.

    Tugged on by her own cat-like curiosity, Autumn wandered over.

    ¡°Adventurer¡¯s Gambit? I¡¯ve never played.¡±

    Arvius looked surprised.

    ¡°Really? It¡¯s the Guild¡¯s preferred game!¡± Arvius paused. ¡°I seemed to have misplaced my manners. I believe you¡¯ve already met Miss Delight and Miss Eme. The two gentlebucks beside me are Misters Evrard and Bastistin.¡± The Lepus pair nodded politely to Autumn. ¡°And the brooding one is Lady Nizana.¡±

    An Umbra elf smiled politely at Autumn. In the shade of the inn, she¡¯d pulled down her hood and facemask revealing a handsome dark-purple skinned face curtained by stark white hair.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure.¡± Nizana said.

    Autumn took an offered seat beside the Felis bard. Glancing over at her cards showed a team of dashing adventurers painted on them.

    ¡°As we are now rather light on funds, we¡¯re betting on taking shots instead. We¡¯ll forgo betting on your first game so you can learn the rules.¡± Arvius spoke up once more.

    Before Autumn could say anything about her lack of alcohol, another puff of glittering smoke erupted beside her. When the smoke cleared, a bottle of Earthen whiskey rested beside her, the label reading: The Devil¡¯s Cut.

    It was fitting, she supposed.

    ¡°Adventurer¡¯s Gambit is a tactical game. The goal is to create a team of six adventurers and defeat the horde of monsters. What makes it tricky is that only the highest value team wins. So some maneuvering, alliances, and betrayals are necessary to win. However, if the horde isn¡¯t defeated, then everybody loses. With me so far?¡±

    Autumn nodded.

    ¡°First, everyone draws a card, one after the other, until you have a team of six in hand. Remember to keep your cards secret.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Everyone picked their cards.

    Looking down, Autumn saw she had: a pair of rogues, a pair of mages, a ranger, and a cleric. In the top corner, there were a few numbers and modifiers. Her set wasn¡¯t bad, but most of the modifiers needed classes she didn¡¯t have.

    Interestingly, each card had names at the bottom, presumably of the famous adventurers they depicted.

    ¡°Now, on each turn, we can choose to discard a card and draw another or trade with another player.¡±

    Autumn ended up trading one rogue for a knight and a mage for a fighter. She didn¡¯t really know what she was doing, but the numbers were going up.

    ¡°At the end of the turn, we¡¯d bet on whether we think we can take on the monster. This is the time to bluff or make alliances. Once the bets are in, we flip a monster card.¡±

    The first monster card was called a Skink-Tiger and its name was apt as it looked like a tiger-like skink. Autumn¡¯s card numbers were just barely higher than the monster¡¯s score.

    ¡°Now we vote for who we think can win, or lose if you prefer. The player with the most votes fights the monster. If you lose, you drink the amount of shots you bet. If you win, then everyone else has to. Repeat that until either the horde¡¯s defeated or only one player remains. That or everyone is too drunk to play anymore.¡±

    Autumn smiled.

    ¡°I think I got it.¡±

    She didn¡¯t have it.

    In but a few games, Autumn was staring woozily at a quartet of mages in her hand. Which was impressive since she¡¯d only drawn two. Blinking slowly, she realized it was her turn.

    ¡°Emmmmme, Eme. ¡®hiccup¡¯ Can I hash¡­can I hass¡­have a knight for my¡­mage.¡±

    Eme screwed up her watery eyes in thought. The Felis wasn¡¯t doing much better than Autumn. Sure, she¡¯d won more games than Autumn, but the smaller girl seemed to have a much lower alcohol tolerance.

    ¡°Nooooo. My knight is having an affair with my bard¡­I can¡¯t break them up¡­meow.¡±

    Autumn stared at the teary-eyed girl.

    ¡°Did you just meow?¡±

    ¡°....No.¡±

    A light-hearted giggle erupted across from them. Turning in unison, the pair looked over at the Umbra elf. Nizana looked unashamed in her apparent amusement.

    ¡°What? You two are pretty cute when you¡¯re drunk.¡±

    Autumn felt her spine turn to jelly in her seat as the weight of the violet-skinned elf¡¯s piercing stare utterly crushed her instinctive babble of denial in its infancy. Something peculiar was happening to Autumn¡¯s drunken mind as the leather-clad woman watched her. She felt like a rabbit beneath a hungry hawk.

    ¡°How about another game!¡±

    Autumn was embarrassed by the way her voice cracked in the end.

    <hr>

    Two soft lips caressed in a virginal kiss. Questing tongues snaked forth, tasting the other¡¯s sweetness. Multiple breathless seconds passed as they kissed till they had to break away with desperate gasps and lidded eyes. Sharp canines bit down on a retreating bottom lip, eliciting a pleased hiss of pain from its owner.

    Roaming hands sought to discover a world of bliss. They both pawed impatiently at fastened belts and tight buttons. Clothes loosened one by one until the warmth inside was exposed.

    Bound together in an expression of inexperienced intimacy, a pair tumbled against a hallway wall. Cloaked in shadow and incomprehensible geography, they clung to each other¡¯s lithe form. Hot lips kissed against a defined collarbone while the other moaned out a name.

    Cold prosthetic fingers played across a surprisingly compact abdomen; the ridges and bumps shuddered under the touch. The finger¡¯s owner gasped as sharp pinpricks of blood welled up upon her breast, left behind by provoked claws. Amateur but passionate ministrations silenced rushed apologies.

    A searing heat encircled a peaked nub, and a euphoric cry erupted. It parted through the breathless panting and soft, desperate calls of names. The voices entwined in a burning rapture as they slid to the cold floor.

    One aching hand drifted low, while the other high to toy with a pair of beautifully soft ears.

    Another joyous cry broke the night.

    ¡°Meow!!!~¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°¡®Hic¡¯ I love you, robot!¡±

    Fat tears stained a porcelain form as Autumn drunkenly clung tightly to a stoic server. The golem¡¯s blank face seemed to possess a shadow of pity and annoyance at the witch impeding its duties. With coded-in reserve, it gently patted Autumn on the back.¡±

    ¡°Consoling Statement: There there.¡±

    ¡°Do you love me?¡±

    ¡°Query: What is love?¡±

    ¡°Love is¡­is¡­Everything!!! It¡¯s what we all strive for but cannot have.¡±

    Pure black eyes stared at the uncomprehending faceplate. Thousands of thoughts spun and crashed within Autumn¡¯s mind, but never emerged into a proper articulated speech. A small part of herself recognized she was making a mistake right now, but the confidence of booze silenced it.

    ¡°Would you like to feel what we feel? Be more than you are now? How about we make a deal?¡±

    ¡°Anxious Query: Why do I feel fear?¡±

    <hr>

    Somehow, despite all the alcohol pulsing through her system and muddling her mind, Autumn found her way through the twisting corridors and doors to her room. Being keyed to her, the door opened obediently.

    Tumbling in, Autumn took in the room with hazy, drunken eyes.

    It was her room.

    Not in the sense that it was her room at the inn, but in that it looked identical to her childhood room back on Earth. Every mark and mar of life that she¡¯d etched into the surfaces and walls was recreated faithfully. All her effects decorated the room: posters of the bands or games she liked plastered the walls, toys and games cluttered the edges of the room, even her unfinished homework littered her desk.

    The bed was just as unrumpled and the pillows just as fluffed as she liked it.

    In hindsight, the posters of half-naked female game characters should have been a giveaway as to her orientation. Her parents had probably known before her, just waiting for her to learn by herself.

    It was as if the portal had directly deposited back home just before that fateful day almost a year ago, when everything went wrong. She¡¯d never seen this room since.

    Tears cascaded unstoppably down her flushed cheeks as she took it all in.

    Closing her eyes, Autumn could faintly hear the sounds of her mother cooking in the kitchen, the soft humming of a theme tune drifting. From a room that¡¯d lain empty ever since the cancer had taken him, came the echoing synthetic sounds of her father¡¯s gaming.

    It was a torturous catharsis. Autumn couldn¡¯t hold back the welling grief any longer in her state. Wracking sobs resounded from her as she clutched a stuffed rabbit plushie with all her might.

    When the sobs had devolved to sniffles, Autumn looked out her bedroom window. Outside was the scene of her home street. Cars drove on by while pedestrians walked beside. A girl with striking green hair stopped walking by to observe Autumn shyly. The illusion of one of Autumn¡¯s schoolmates, Liliana, waved at her. With a flicker of her will, Autumn now looked out at the blue marble that was Earth hanging in the blackness of space. Right now, it was as if someone had built her bedroom upon the dusty surface of the moon.

    Autumn smiled.

    In a drunken stumble, Autumn collapsed upon her bed and fell into its molded grooves. Cradled by familiarity, it took only a few seconds before a dreamless sleep caught her in its grasp.

 Chapter Forty-Four: The Bitter Forest

    Autumn awoke with a head pounding with the beat of a full bardic band parading. Not helping matters was the obnoxious trill of her alarm. It caused the furious, alcohol-induced headache to batter violently against her skull.

    She was hungover for the first time in her life.

    With a groan like a newly arisen dead, Autumn wrenched her crusted eyes open. A mistake as the bright lights above sent a flash of pain through them. With a cry of distress, she shut them in a hurry and sent an arm questing for the alarm. She silenced it with a heavy slam and blissful quiet reigned once more.

    Autumn lay face down on her bed. Stained and smelly clothes still clad her body. Somehow, she¡¯d removed her armored boots while absolutely pissed alongside her robes and hat. They all now lay in a crumpled heap on her floor. Her mother was going to give her a disapproving look about that later.

    Last night¡¯s memories were fragmented and hazy. Everything after her fifth shot of whiskey was a blur. She prayed that the few things she could remember were merely figments of her overactive imagination.

    Autumn rolled over once her eyes had adjusted to the light.

    She still felt awful.

    Not only did it feel like she¡¯d swallowed a mouthful of cotton, but sweat drenched her entire body. It beaded across her like a shiny film. Her sodden tunic reeked of whiskey as it clung tightly to her chest. Body odor permeated the room.

    The smell caused her to gag and her stomach to clench painfully .

    With a groan, Autumn staggered to her feet, and a sudden wave of vertigo crashed into her. Along with it came bile rising in her throat. Clutching her mouth, Autumn rushed out of her bedroom and to the bathroom across the hall. Thankfully, she made it to the porcelain bowl in time.

    Autumn coated the toilet with the remains of the alcohol and her undigested dinner.

    She felt much better now.

    Still half asleep, Autumn washed her mouth at the sink before grabbing her toothbrush. While purging the foulness from her mouth, she gazed up at the girl in the mirror.

    She hardly recognized her.

    The once unruly curls of twilight now were straighter than a razor blade. They cascaded down to fall at her lower back like a great ebony shroud. Her fringe had grown just as long, draping past her face and almost hid her sunken eyes. The swelling around her eye had vanished by now, leaving behind only a patchwork of green, purple, and yellow.

    It was the steel in her jet-black eyes that was the most unfamiliar to her.

    Turning away, Autumn switched on the shower. The pouring hot water created a swirling mist of steam, fogging up the mirror and the foreign girl beyond. Autumn stripped herself of her unclean clothes. Her movements were awkward as she pulled at her wounds. Eventually, she freed herself of the restrictive bindings and stood naked in the privacy of her bathroom.

    While she¡¯d never been unfit or overweight, Autumn had a streamlined physique. That of a runner. However, over the days and weeks of intense training and increased diet, she¡¯d put on some muscle. Now a dense core of chiseled abdominals was forming and her arms no longer were noodle thin.

    That wasn¡¯t the primary thing that caught her attention. That honor belonged to a myriad of shallow claw marks criss-crossing her pale, bruised skin. Groups of four distinctive lines of red ran across her front, sides, and back. To accompany them, she had a pattern of bite marks all around her neck, breasts, and inner thighs.

    It looked like some beast had ravaged Autumn, and judging by the soreness in her intimate core, someone had.

    With a fierce blush cresting her face, Autumn ducked into her shower and cleansed herself of grime. As much as she wished to luxuriate in the heat, she forced herself to shower quickly and redress in a pair of clean clothes. While standing in front of her mirror, Autumn adjusted her robe¡¯s collar to hide the marks of ardor on her neck.

    Once satisfied, she grabbed her pack and dashed out to meet the rest of her team.

    ¡°MOM! I¡¯m heading¡­out.¡±

    Autumn paused as reality crashed back into her life. Lingering at the door, she spared one last look to take in the sight, smells, and sounds of the life she¡¯d had. Patting the doorframe, she departed.

    Pyre was awaiting Autumn when she finally made it to the dining hall. The doors had been especially kind today; it only took a half-dozen tries before she got to where she was heading. Breakfast lay in wait on the tabletop. Beside the plates of food was a series of murky-looking potions.

    Pyre gestured towards them.

    ¡°Hangover cures, only 30 silvers each.¡±

    Autumn obediently took one. The potion looked like Pyre had just scraped up some mud from outside. Giving the Alchemist a wary look, Autumn downed it and prepared for the worst. However, it wasn¡¯t that bad. It didn¡¯t taste great by any means, but it wasn¡¯t as awful as it looked.

    Just as she was getting into her breakfast, the others arrived. Tired eyes and clutched heads signaled their varying states of hungover. They gratefully took a potion from the table, which Autumn noted in the party¡¯s expenditures.

    ¡°Sorry for leaving so abruptly last night, there was a meeting called for the captains to go over the route going forward. I hope nobody got into any trouble.¡± Nethlia said as she piled her plate high.

    ¡°...¡± Autumn hid her blush with her hat.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Well, last night I found the alchemy labs¡­eventually. They were very well stocked, so I could craft some more minor healing potions and synthesize a few flasks of Alchemical Fire. The quality should be good, if not higher than before.¡± Pyre said with pride.

    ¡°That¡¯s excellent. We¡¯d best eat fast. It looks like everyone else is getting ready to leave. Make sure you have all your things.¡±

    True to their captain¡¯s words, all the other parties were finishing their breakfasts and getting ready to leave. Autumn''s gaze collided with Eme''s, causing an immediate blush to spread across both their faces. The pair swiftly turned away. Liddie squinted and looked suspiciously between them.

    As she was leaving, Autumn caught sight of several of the server golems giving her a queer look. Behind them she could see they were crafting some sort of picket signs that read: fair compensation for fair work! Autumn hurried out the door.

    Whatever that was about couldn¡¯t be her fault, right?

    With a final farewell, the convoy departed the comforts of the Misplaced Inn and traveled towards the Bitter Forest and Bogward beyond.

    Temperate rainforests that reached high into the sky once dominated the entire region. Now they only bordered the gap between civilized farmlands and the rotting disorder of the swamplands. Like an open maw, the rainforest yawned before the convoy where the road carved into it. As they entered beneath the thick canopy, the ever-pouring rain ceased, blocked out by the towering trees that twisted together in search of even an ounce of sunlight. Only small droplets even made it to the darkened floor far below. The lanterns were lit in a hurry to light the way forward. As a cool air descended on the party, Autumn bundled herself up in the warmth of her robes.

    A wave of cacophonous sound crashed upon Autumn.

    Buzzing, chirping, howling, roaring. Everything from the squeaking and singing of bats and birds to the howling and roaring of jungle cats and monsters poured forth. From the hidden understory to the cloud-topped canopy high above came the noises of conflict and life.

    Frankly, it was intimidating.

    Onwards they continued throughout the day.

    Nature had almost completely reclaimed the Bog Road. Shallow roots of massive trees twisted across it while rotting detritus covered every hole and divot, turning them into wheel breaking pit-traps. The estimate for a two-day journey extended out to at least four. Bugs and insects constantly harassed the party throughout the day. As she was still recovering, Autumn could not drive fear into their primitive minds. Luckily, there was an alchemical solution.

    ¡°Adventurer-grade insect-repellent: 10 silvers each.¡±

    Autumn was already getting sick of being in charge of finances. Who knew it was Pyre who was the penny-pincher of the party? Autumn was also ninety percent sure the girl was driving up the prices. Ok, maybe eighty percent sure.

    After reveling in the sight of fleeing mite clouds, Autumn scurried up to the front of the wagon. Autumn plopped herself down beside the Nethlia and stared out at the lush rainforest. Vibrant greenery shone under occasional shafts of light. She could even see the occasional singing bird resting on branch limbs.

    Autumn had never experienced this kind of place on earth, and in the Feywild, she hadn''t been able to appreciate the scenery. So now she did.

    It was nice.

    Over the creaking of wheels and general noise of the forest, there was an awkward cough. Autumn glanced over at Nethlia. The berserker¡¯s face flushed with embarrassment as she struggled to speak. Multiple words fell silently from her lips as she squirmed in her seat. However, she eventually found her courage once more.

    ¡°Um. I just wanted to say¡­that is I¡­I wanted to apologize to you. For yelling at you, I mean! Back in Everwatch? Urg, I¡¯m making a mess of this.¡± Nethlia took a breath. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have yelled at you or Liddie. You were right about the party being unable to continue on. Not that it means it¡¯d be ok to yell at you if you¡¯re wrong! It¡¯s just that I was raging and¡­no, I shouldn¡¯t be making excuses.¡±

    Even though Nethlia was in the wrong, Autumn¡¯s heart ached seeing the sorrowful state of the berserker. With a comforting hand, Autumn reached out and patted Nethlia¡¯s hunched over shoulder.

    ¡°It¡¯s ok. These things happen right? We learn and move on?¡±

    ¡°No, it¡¯s not ok. I should have been better than that; I fucked us in that fight. By jumping through that window, I put us in a dangerous position and got you, Edwyn, and Nelva hurt. If I had just¡­waited, we could have hit those raiders in the back.¡±

    The leather reins squealed unnoticed in Nethlia¡¯s tight grip.

    ¡°The truth is, I¡¯m not cut out to be a leader; too angry, too bullheaded, too stupid. I was always just the girl-who-hits-things in groups I¡¯ve been in. This is my first time leading and I¡¯ve already done a piss-poor job of it.¡±

    Autumn shook her head.

    ¡°That¡¯s not true. I don¡¯t think any of the rest of us could lead.¡±

    ¡°So, I¡¯m the best of the worst huh?¡± Nethlia chuckled.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I meant!¡±

    ¡°I know. It¡¯s just that I¡¯m so angry all the damn time! And I don¡¯t know why. I think¡­I think I just don¡¯t want to lose any more friends.¡±

    Quiet fell between the pair. The wagons plodded along, rocking over roots and stones.

    ¡°Did I ruin things between us?¡± Nethlia asked quietly.

    ¡°...I don¡¯t know, but I¡¯ll accept your apology for what it¡¯s worth. So you can stop avoiding me.¡±

    Nethlia blushed.

    Suddenly, the convoy ground to a halt. Shouted calls from up ahead floated down the line. A fallen tree had blocked their path forwards, and it¡¯d take at least an hour to cut a path through. With the sudden abundance of time on their hands, Autumn opted to stretch her legs. So she jumped down.

    The dense foliage glowed under the pillars of broken light.

    ¡°Hey witch! Care to take a look around? We¡¯ll be here a little bit and we¡¯re running shy on fresh water.¡±

    Liddie called out to Autumn. In her hands she waved a few empty waterskins. Behind her Pyre and Nelva exited too. The alchemist held a copper sickle in her gloved hands while Nelva carried a few empty pouches. Hearing Liddie¡¯s words Pyre spoke up.

    ¡°Don¡¯t eat any of the plants or fruits. Nearly everything in the Bitter Forest is poisonous, hence the name. Other than that, most of the beasts won¡¯t bother with you unless you intrude on their territory.¡±

    ¡°There you have it! To adventure!¡± Liddie shouted with a grin.

    Autumn turned to their captain.

    ¡°Nethlia? Is that fine?¡±

    Nethlia jumped slightly in her seat. She cast a quizzical look at Autumn before straightening.

    ¡°Sure, just don¡¯t go out of earshot. Be back in an hour and stay safe.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing boss!¡±

    Liddie looped her arm into the crook of Autumn¡¯s and practically dragged her out into the dense undergrowth. Contrary to Autumn¡¯s expectation, the pair had a relatively undisturbed journey. The only obstacle was a group of brightly colored flowers that were clearly toxic, but it was easy enough to stay away from them. After a short trek, they heard the sounds of a pounding waterfall and burbling brook.

    As the pair broke through the brush, Autumn took in the waterfall. It was just barely taller than her as it crashed down a rocky bank. A worming thought crept into Autumn¡¯s mind: what if there was something behind it?

    It was a classic, right?

    Turning to the pirate, Autumn asked. ¡°Hey Liddie, what are the odds there is a loot-cave behind that?¡±

    Greedy eyes cast a skeptical gaze over the waterfall.

    ¡°Highly unlikely.¡±

    The pair shared a look as sparkling grins danced upon their faces.

 Chapter Forty-Five: Iceflow Run

    As the waterfall cascaded down the moss-coated stones, it kicked up a spray of mist that beaded upon Autumn¡¯s face. She waded barefooted through an icy pool towards the curtain of white water till she stood knee deep before it. The combined powers of nature and time had worn the rock behind the waterfall to a smooth polish. Autumn pressed her face against the slick surface. Her eyes locked onto the small gap between water and rock.

    A crack ran horizontally at the water¡¯s edge, just barely wider than Autumn¡¯s waist. It¡¯d be a tight squeeze. Autumn grimace as she lowered herself into the icy water. Unfortunately, all she could see inside was darkness.

    ¡°Well?¡± Liddie asked.

    The impatient pirate stood outside of the water¡¯s spray, her arms laden with Autumn¡¯s clothes. Given that the likelihood of there being a hidden cave was low, only one of them needed to actually get wet. Being far more invested in the idea, Autumn had volunteered and, at the thought of wearing wet clothes for the rest of the day, had stripped to her under-things.

    Liddie had only smirked at the bite marks that littered her body, but that had still elicited a fierce blush on Autumn¡¯s face.

    Autumn shrugged at her question.

    ¡°There¡¯s a small crack here, but it¡¯s too dark inside.¡±

    Rummaging about on her hip, Liddie unclipped her lantern and held it out to Autumn.

    ¡°Here, use this then.¡±

    The hooded lantern was all twisted copper and glass. Magical flame burned away merrily inside. Taking it from Liddie, Autumn shone it into the crack. A focus beam of light illuminated the shadows. Crystal clear water glittered like glass. From the crooked entrance yawned a small cave filled with stagnant water. Only a small ledge of mossy rocks remained free, bordering the hidden pool. And as the light played over the back wall, a glint of white appeared.

    ¡°I think I see something?¡± Autumn cheered.

    A sharp glint appeared in Liddie¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°What is it?!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure, but I was right about the cave!¡±

    ¡°Get in there then!¡±

    Icy water bit into her flesh once more as Autumn sunk to her belly. The gap was a tight squeeze. Autumn ended up having to suck in her breath to fit. Grunts and groans of a struggling witch echoed into the cave beyond until Autumn pulled free into the crystal waters. Ripples radiated out to lap against the mossy stones.

    Standing up, Autumn swung the lantern about the cave.

    The flash of white caught her attention once more. Moving closer, the white resolved into bones. A horned skeleton lay slumped against the back wall, one femur snapped in half. Whoever this was, they¡¯d likely starved to death. Trapped.

    Autumn shivered.

    Decaying leather armor bound the body like a funeral shroud. A heavily oxidized copper sword rested in the crumbling grip of a hand adorned with tarnished rings. When Autumn pulled on the sword, the bones crumbled to dust and the rings fell to the rocks with a clink.

    Autumn grimaced apologetically.

    A pair of items adorned a rotten belt: a moldy coin-pouch and an odd Ivory key. Opening the pouch revealed the glinting of gold and silver: 9g, 13s by her count. The key was much more mysterious to her than a handful of coins for time had left it behind. Autumn¡¯s fingers ghosted over an etched surface. She could somehow read them, although their greater purpose alluded her.

    Perhaps she and Edwyn could work it out later?

    Just as she was about to leave, another curiosity caught her attention. Around a bony collar was a necklace of oak. Intriguingly, it was as flawless as the key.

    ¡°How is it?! Are you dead yet?!¡±

    Liddie¡¯s loud call echoed into the cave.

    Autumn hesitated.

    Only she knew what the loot entailed. Judging by the decayed nature of the body, it had been here a long while, yet the key and necklace remained pristine. To Autumn, that could only mean one thing: they were magical. And as she stood there, dripping water inside a lonesome cave, they reminded her of her plight.

    She was adrift in a world that wasn''t her own.

    Getting home would require either vast wealth or vast luck, and these magic items could represent both. So it was with a guilty heart that she secreted them into her underclothes.

    ¡°There¡¯s a body in here, all skeletal-like!!¡±

    ¡°Any loot?!¡±

    Autumn paused. Perhaps it was a good thing Liddie couldn''t see Autumn. Her face flashed once more with guilt before she smoothed it and her voice.

    ¡°Just some coins, a couple of rings, and an old copper sword!¡±

    ¡°Grab the loot and get back here!¡±

    ¡°What about the body?!¡±

    As a single touch had turned its hand to no more than dust, Autumn doubted she¡¯d get it out intact. Even so, it felt disrespectful to leave it here. It might turn into a ghost or undead. God, she hoped that wasn¡¯t a thing.

    ¡°Leave it! We¡¯ll tell the Mireguard later, they can deal with it!¡±

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    ¡°Alright!¡±

    Arms laden with loot, Autumn exited with just as much grace as she entere; grunting and groaning. She flopped into the frigid pool like a drowned rat. Shivering under the downpour, she crawled free to rest in a beam of hot sunlight on the banks.

    ¡°So? What did you find?¡±

    The taller form of Liddie blocked Autumn¡¯s light. In discontent, she thrust the haul towards the pirate for her clothes in exchange. With Liddie¡¯s attention successfully diverted to the admittedly meager wealth, Autumn slipped her secreted items into her robe¡¯s hidden pockets.

    She felt a little awful for her surreptitious actions.

    While allowing the sun to wick away the water on her, Autumn questioned the rogue.

    ¡°What do you think we should do? Weren¡¯t we supposed to divide the loot up or something with the other parties?¡±

    Liddie scoffed.

    ¡°Not over something so trivial, maybe if you found a secret dragon horde. But over 8 gold and some rusted trinkets? It¡¯s unlikely.¡±

    ¡°9 gold and 13 silvers. I counted.¡±

    Liddie gave a cheeky smile and Autumn felt less bad about hiding loot from her.

    ¡°Can¡¯t blame a rogue for trying?¡±

    Autumn stared.

    ¡°We¡¯re being paid over a thousand gold for this quest, job, assignment, thing and you want to be greedy over a single gold? If you¡¯re worried about not getting an equal share, you don¡¯t need to be. I¡¯ll be fair.¡±

    Liddie scoffed again.

    ¡°It¡¯s not about the gold, it¡¯s about the stealing! Pirates gotta pi~rate!¡± Am I right or am I right?!¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes behind her wet bangs.

    ¡°Let¡¯s just get back, shall we?¡±

    ¡°Sure! After you!¡±

    It didn¡¯t take long for the pair to return to the wagon with filled water-skins in hand. Autumn¡¯s wet hair and general sullen mood garnered her a few odd looks. However, a succinct explanation alongside a proffered copper sword smoothed things over.

    Shortly after their return, the road ahead was unblocked, and they were away.

    The day passed by uneventfully.

    At night, the rainforest didn¡¯t grow any quieter, it only changed in what was hunting. In the dark, far more dangerous predators lurked. The confinement of the lush rainforest forced the convoy to encamp upon the road. Tents sprouted up alongside their wagons, using them for protection. The snaking camp required a greater presence of watchers during the long dark.

    Autumn served her watch alongside Edwyn. The pair sat back to back upon the wagon, watching the forest edge.

    In her pocket sat contempt in the shape of an ivory key. All day it had played upon her mind, but her stance hadn¡¯t changed. Getting home would always be her top priority; her main quest. However, rather than being the proverbial cat killed by its curiosity, she was going to let an expert look at it. It¡¯d take a Runecaster to work out the purpose of the runes. Funny how that works.

    ¡°Edwyn?¡± Autumn whispered.

    ¡°Hmm? Ye see somethin''?¡±

    Autumn shook her head.

    ¡°No, nothing like that. I was just wondering if you could look over something for me without letting the others know? If you¡¯re not comfortable with that, it¡¯s fine.¡±

    ¡°Somethin¡¯ secret ye say? An ye need ma help wi'' it? Aye, ye got ma interest up. I¡¯ll have a look aw quiet-like.¡±

    A sigh of relief escaped Autumn. Shuffling slightly she retrieved the runic ivory key and handed it over to Edwyn. A bushy eyebrow raised in surprise as they glanced over it.

    ¡°These be some ancient runes. Ae only recognize a few o¡¯ them. Mind if Ae hang on tae it? Ae¡¯ll need tae gae ov¡¯ ma books tae get a proper read on it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine just¡­keep it secret. Keep it safe.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s lips quirked.

    ¡°Aye. Micht Ae ask why?¡±

    Because it would be too hard to explain otherwise. Because she still didn¡¯t trust them with her secrets. Because she was afraid. Afraid her friends might reject her if they knew.

    ¡°...I don¡¯t really know. It could just be nothing, an ornament or something. I¡¯d rather know what it was first before I tell everyone and cause a stir. Does that make sense?¡±

    ¡°Aye. Ae get it.¡±

    Edwyn nodded and pocketed the key before turning back to the darksome forest.

    The rest of the watch was rather unexciting. Other than a few echoing roars off in the far distance, deeper into the forest, not much happened. Autumn found that she could extend her magic to her senses once again. Her magical channels had healed enough for that, but not much else. It was encouraging either way.

    Warm radiance broke across the convoy. Morning weaved its way through the canopy to wake the wildlife within. The convoy was one such weary wildlife; they staggered about, packing away tents and supplies. Before long, they were on their way once more, trudging over a day¡¯s worth of roots and rocks.

    Time was especially cruel today; dragging through a humdrum of inactivity. The only genuine change happened around midday when they came upon a great river: Iceflow Run. It divided the forest in twain. On one side lay the Bitter Forest they¡¯d traversed, while on the other was the Gloomstruck Woods, full of dark, twisted timber.

    It was impassable, at least where they were.

    The road hugged the banks as it curved northwest and it was nearing the dimness of evening that they reached a crossing. A ford of white rapids rushed over slick rocks. If Autumn was foolish enough to cross it on foot, it¡¯d crest her neck before it¡¯d swept her feet out from under her.

    She¡¯d already experienced that once and had no intention of a repeat performance.

    Luckily, she didn¡¯t have to. The massive Agoroths pushed through the onrushing waters with powerful muscles. Water crashed into the wagons as they slipped on the uneven riverbed. Autumn clutched onto the wagon with a white-knuckled grip; screaming souls shone in the white foam. Sweat plastered her back as they slowly made their way across.

    Just as Autumn¡¯s wagon reached the middle of the river, several fast moving objects slammed into the wagon, embedding into the wood and tearing holes in the leather. A foot-long quill quivered inches from Autumn¡¯s face.

    Cries of pain erupted from the convoy amongst the fearful snorting of the Agoroths.

    Exploding out of the water in a rush was a strange beast. It looked like a cross between a crocodile and a porcupine. A powerful jaw slammed shut around the leg of one of the Agoroths while a back of barbed spines fired off into its sides.

    The injured beast of burden bellowed in pain and thrashed against the monstrous beast that had attacked it. Shouting from the wagons echoed around as adventurers scrambled for weapons. Autumn dived for cover amongst her compatriots as another brace of quills fired off.

    ¡°Ambush!!! Quillodiles! Push through, don¡¯t let them bog us down! Hit ''em with range!¡±

    In the Agoroths¡¯ panic the convoy picked up speed. The stricken bovine was freed as the adventurers launched attacks on the unsuspecting monster, driving it back. Across slick rocks the wagons crashed and bounced. Autumn for her part launched the few spells she could through torn holes. However, with the constant shaking, they splashed harmlessly into the water.

    Arrows, spells, and pole-arms kept the Quillodiles at bay long enough for the convoy to reach the safety of the far bank. Once on dry land, the few monstrosities foolish enough to follow were quickly overwhelmed.

    At first inspection, the only damage to the convoy was a lashing of quills along the wooden sides and thick hides of their beasts. The barbs proved a pain to remove, but most of the Agoroths were otherwise uninjured. One had a rather nasty laceration on its leg. However, a clerical prayer soon had it back to peak condition. Only later did Autumn learn that a Duskguard had been unfortunate enough to be struck in the neck with a quill.

    They¡¯d bled out almost instantly.

    So, it was with a somber mood the Gloomstruck Woods welcomed them.

 Chapter Forty-Six: Bogward

    A hush enveloped the Gloomstruck; the woods themselves holding a breath. Color leached from it, leaving naught behind but an eponymous nature. Spider-leg roots sprouted from trees that twisted upwards like strangling hands. Closing the gaps between was a carpeting wall of needle-thorn briars.

    Somber was the atmosphere of both wild and civilized beasts.

    Even with their differences, the adventurers hadn¡¯t wished death upon their compatriot guards. A binding sheet had wrapped the fallen. Now they awaited an inferno to carry them to ash and glory. But that¡¯d have to wait, for these woods were far too dangerous to call such attention down.

    A fact Autumn learnt sooner than she¡¯d have liked.

    The convoy had traveled only slightly further away from the ford before camping down. Holes and scars lined the wagons. Quills had lodged deep into the woods and torn gaping holes into their covering leathers. Holes that¡¯d have to be fixed before they re-entered the pounding rainfall of the flooded coast.

    Luckily, Autumn¡¯s magic was back on the table, if only slightly. Her repair charms had their wagon pristine, looking better than ever.

    The sounds of activity from the riverside drew Autumn¡¯s attention, and with nothing else to do, she wandered over. There she found the burlier members of the convoy, Nethlia included, gutting and harvesting three Quillodiles that had made the mistake of chasing them. Crimson dripped from the hanging bodies down into the hungry dirt. They had split the beasts from throat to groin. Most of the offal they kept: heart, kidneys, liver, tongue, and even the brains got preserved for transport, wrapped in salt and leather.

    Autumn hadn¡¯t encountered this aspect of adventuring before; her meat came wrapped in plastic. Of course, she¡¯d butchered a goblin before, but she didn¡¯t count that as nobody would eat the foul things.

    Sharp and barbed foot-long quill spears were harvested from the crocodilian skin. Rapid and efficient cuts then separated skin from flesh and meat from bones. Salt and leather wrapped the meat for transport. When they got to Bogward, they would divide the profits for selling them among all the adventuring groups.

    The oaken necklace weighed heavily in Autumn¡¯s pocket.

    All told, the butchering took less than an hour.

    Now, a dark carpet of night settled over the Gloomstruck, wicking away what little sunlight they had. Campfires burned low, casting flickering shadows as the watchers took their places amongst the wagons. Autumn sat back to back with Nethlia as the pair paid close attention to the darkness.

    Nary a sound issued forth. Whatever predators this dread-place housed stalked in silence. It wasn¡¯t a sound that alerted Autumn to the danger, but a smell. An awful smell. A familiar smell. One that haunted her mind and dreams: the heady, cloying perfume of the Fae.

    Lightning coursed through Autumn¡¯s spine.

    Autumn quickly sent a creeping whisper into Nethlia¡¯s mind. [Danger, I smell Fae.]

    Instantly, Nethlia straightened, her eyes sharpening as she scanned the dark foliage. An unnatural quietness crept into the atmosphere. It grated on the mind. Seeped into the ear. With¡­Utter¡­Silence.

    Suddenly, a deafening crack split the night. Autumn¡¯s feet trembled as the ground thumped under the tremendous impact of felled lumber. A twisted tree came crashing down as something monstrous pushed its way through. More trees cracked and crashed as it grew closer and closer.

    ¡°Quickly! Douse the flames!¡± Nethlia whisper-shouted.

    The quaking had woken the rest of the camp, and they scrambled to fulfill Nethlia¡¯s command. Snuffing firelight and leading frightened Agoroths off the path, out of sight. Behind tall trees and inside covered wagons, everyone hid and held their anxious breaths. With her heart hammering in her chest, Autumn scrambled into cruel briars to curl under a knotted root. A familiar refuge.

    A bitter dark enclosed the camp, leaving only hushed breathing behind. Crack. Crack. Crack. Trees continued to break like gunshots in the distance, growing ever closer. Until finally, they stopped.

    A new hush descended. None spoke or whispered. They didn¡¯t even dare to shift.

    Hot, foul breath gusting in a powerful snort, swaying the trees and souring their leaves. A great and terrible beast emerged from the woods, baring gleaming sword-like teeth in a long Draconic snout. Thousands of red, wet, glistening eyes blinked on an elongated skull which was crowned a pair of twisting antlers, flowered with poisonous blooms. A crimson lion¡¯s mane of matted fur swung with the motions of a long serpentine neck.

    The Fairy Dragon sniffed and searched as its thousand curious eyes locked onto the outwardly abandoned camp.

    Autumn regretted wanting to see a Dragon.

    A dread vortex swirled about the camp, fed from the terrified beasts and mortal souls. Every step the Draconic monstrosity took sent a ripple of cloying miasma through Autumn. She felt almost too full, her mind shuddering under the influx of primal terror. Before them stood an apex predator, something born to hunt and never hunted, and beastial minds screamed a warning of danger. As if they needed the reminder.

    Furrows were carved into the dirt track as the Fairy Dragon thundered closer.

    Captain Ekrus hid within the lead wagon, his hands gripping tight around his axe. Resolve washed away the fear inside his heart as putrid breath rotted the leather between him and death.

    In a move of pure idiocy and desperation, Autumn pointed her wand out into the Gloomstruck. Purple dread magic zipped off into the distance, the magic lighting up the twisted, hungry trees as it went.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    The Fairy Dragon whipped its head to follow the jinx, the thousand eyes narrowing in suspicion. It sniffed the air, tasting the trail of fear as it escaped. With a low, guttural roar it lumbered off in pursuit of what it perceived as escaping prey. Trees shattered in its wake.

    When the sounds vanished into the darkened woods the convoy released a collective breath.

    ¡°Good¡­Good thinking.¡± Nethlia spoke with a shaky voice.

    ¡°To be honest, I didn¡¯t think that¡¯d work. What even was that? Some sort of Fae monster?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°That was a Fairy Dragon. Some call them Stag Dragons or Nightmare Dragons. They¡¯re not full-blooded Dragons, thankfully, or it¡¯d be smart enough not to fall for that trick. Especially if it¡¯d fought adventurers before.¡±

    Autumn gulped.

    ¡°Not a full Dragon?! It was massive!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, that thing was at least a half-blood or more, but full dragons are far larger and fly. A full Dragon hasn¡¯t been seen in a millennium, thank Nusraura.¡±

    The pair began hurriedly packing up as they talked, the rest of the camp doing likewise. While it was exceptionally dangerous to travel at night, there was a high likelihood that the Fairy Dragon would discover the ruse and return. The convoy didn¡¯t want to be here when it did.

    ¡°What happened to the Dragons?¡±

    Nethlia hesitated. ¡°Well¡­the tales say one of the foul gods consumed them all.¡±

    ¡°Foul gods?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Shhh! Not so loud!¡± Nethlia hushed Autumn. ¡°It¡¯s taboo to talk about them. I shouldn¡¯t have even mentioned it.¡±

    The conversation stalled rather abruptly. Everyone mounted back up on the packed wagons and continued on in the stifled twilight.

    <hr>

    In the end, the Fairy Dragon didn¡¯t return.

    They traveled in haste throughout the night and the subsequent morning, arriving tired at the edge of the Gloomstruck with time to spare.

    A fresh drop of water trailed down Autumn¡¯s spine, causing her to yelp. Now that they were out of the canopy¡¯s protection, the everpour returned with a vengeance.

    The Restless Mire lay ahead. Fetid wetlands that stretched as far as the eye could see were broken up by dense groves of billowing swamp trees and thick mists. The stench of peat and millions of decaying and rotting things clouded the air. Not even the pounding rains could cover it up. A fresh wave of noise met Autumn, that of frogs, birds, and great hordes of insects.

    To the east lay a small wooden port of only a dock, a stable, and a tiny inn. The sight of an inn made Autumn want to curl up and sleep, but there was no point in resting here when the village lay just beyond the water.

    Tied to the weathered docks were a myriad of punted boats and a small cadre of boatmen that awaited their arrival. They looked strange, almost shamanistic; layers of hide and cloth obscured their bodies, while skulls of beasts adorned their faces. Hollow black sockets stared expressionlessly at the approaching adventurers.

    Autumn had to admire the unease-inspiring look.

    Since the journey ahead was impossible for the heavy wagons and beasts, the convoy had to stable them here and carry only the essential gear. Autumn patted Kira goodbye before piling into a boat beside her party.

    The boatmen slowly pushed them through the murky waters towards the village in the distance.

    Bogward was an eccentric-looking village. Dominating its center was an enormous willow tree. Tattered streamers of moss, reed, and cloth hung from its boughs and ran slick with rainfall. Beneath the canopy, the villagers had built a majority of their homes and businesses. Despite the foggy gloom of the swamp, the buildings were bright¡ªpainted in sky blues and sunflower yellows. From the center, a spider¡¯s web of rickety walkways radiated outwards in all directions to connect outlying buildings built upon long stilts in the foul-smelling mud.

    The intense eyes of the Mireguard watched the approach of the adventurers and guardsmen. They either stood atop watchtowers or strode through the muck on long stilt-legs. Large beaked skulls hid their faces underneath great feathered hooded capes. Armors of chitin clad their bodies overtop loose linens. In their hands they held either long poles tipped with one half of a serrated crab-claw or large longbows of supple willow.

    While not outwardly hostile to the new arrivals they were wary. At all times Autumn felt eyes upon her.

    A group of locals were awaiting them when they docked at the edge of the settlement. At their head was a pair of elders, a demon and demoness. They approached only once all the adventurers and guardsmen had disembarked.

    ¡°Welcome to Bogward adventurers and Duskguard. I am Low-Page Zarrut and this is my wife, Akarr.¡± The elder demon introduced the pair. ¡°I¡¯m afraid you won''t find much of a welcome here these days. Many of us have lost loved ones to the goblin menace. However, the Drowned Tyrant Inn is available to house you for the night. Perhaps we might speak with your captains in the morning?¡±

    Captain Ekrus stepped forth and greeted the pair.

    ¡°We welcome your hospitality and vow to end the goblin blight once and for all. Unfortunately, it is my duty to inform you that just last night we came across a Fairy Dragon in the Gloomstruck.¡±

    At this, the surrounding demonfolk broke out into concerned mummers.

    ¡°Fortunately, we could get away without incident, but are rather exhausted and hungry, so that inn sounds lovely right about now.¡±

    Although concerned over the news of a Fairy Dragon so close to the village, the elder nodded amicably and gestured over to a handsome younger Inferni.

    ¡°Certainly. My son, Malthor, will guide you to the inn. He¡¯ll also be guiding you to the goblin encampment tomorrow, as he was the one to discover it.¡±

    Malthor looked to be one of the Mireguard, based upon his armor of chitin and feathers. He waved off to a nearby walkway.

    ¡°Follow me, the Drowned Tyrant is just nearby.¡±

    The Drowned Tyrant¡¯s name was apt,as the building had been formed out of a behemoth of a skeleton. Rising out of the swamps to lay half-submerged on clumps of ground were the bones of what must have been a Swamp Dragon, or at least something with the blood of one. Wood had been molded in between the ribs to create a barrel-like main chamber, and the great gaping jaws served as the entrance.

    ¡°Welcome to the Drowned Tyrant. Legend has it that a great hero slew this Swamp Tyrant in the first age of the empire,¡± Mathlor said as he gestured to the inn.

    ¡°Is this a Dragon like the Fairy Dragon?¡± Autumn whispered to Nethlia.

    ¡°Hmm, I think so. I¡¯ve never seen a Half-Dragon this big though. It might actually be a young Dragon, but who knows?¡±

    Nethlia shrugged.

    Teeth bigger than Autumn hung overhead as they passed into the inn. Nobody had to duck to enter; the beast was that massive. Inside the literal belly of the beast was a single large chamber, the very back divided off for the innkeeper¡¯s home. A spine ran down the ceiling and hung with lantern lights. The walls alternated between rich browns of wood and the stark white of bone.

    Autumn pondered if a necromancer would love or hate this place.

    A large fire pit that served as both a source of heating and a kitchen dominated the center of the hall. Currently, a stew was brewing in large chitinous pots. The smell was heavenly.

    As this inn was just one large chamber, they were to sleep beside the fire. Along the walls lay piles of cushions and pillows to facilitate this. So, with a yawn breaking her jaw, Autumn found herself a prime spot beside the fire.

 Interlude: Mire of the Mind

    Flames crackled in the heart of a cadaver inn. They radiated out a blazing heat that washed over a Witch wrapped in furs, nestled within the company of friends. The outside chill held no purchase on the slumbering minds, but for the loom of a tomorrow. For now, they slept. Autumn felt the icy nails of dreams dig into her tired mind, dragging her down into the grasp of nightmares.

    Slowly, reluctantly, she dreamed.

    The caustic sting of bleach and disinfectant burned her nose as she staggered into unwakefulness. It coated the sterile walls and floors with its perfume of hospitalization and clinical depression. The stark-white walls shone with the bright lights, pulsing in a dying heartbeat.

    Autumn recognized this blank hallway from her memories of a cloying sickness. Everything here, as it had then, smelled of death. She dreaded taking a step forwards down that lonesome hallway, but her limbs were uncooperative; they danced on a puppeteer¡¯s strings. Her unbidden footfalls exploded in the unnatural quietness.

    There was nobody here but her and her terror. Any desperate words she had were sucked away by the haze of dreaming.

    What could they have even done to help her?

    At her feet, shadows flickered. They danced with the rhythm of the dying beneath broken lights. The light¡¯s clarity shone down on naught but clean white floor, but in the darkness a carpet of writhing cockroaches revealed itself. Millions of hairy legs scuttled over Autumn¡¯s bare feet and it took all her willpower not to scream. Retching consumed her body as the bugs crawled over her skin.

    Autumn rushed through the halls, her bare feet pounding out her horror while wet eyes watched from the darkness. Looking forwards she saw a stairwell at the end of the far too long hallway. Blood poured down each step in a forever flow and somewhere above, a weak heart echoed a familiar chord on whining machines.

    The only direction she could travel was up. The corridor behind her disappeared into a haunting nothingness.

    Autumn moved up through the falling stream and it stained her limbs black. Footprints of crimson followed in her wake like loyal dogs.

    The second floor was no less cloying than the first. At the end of the hall, a door burned in her memory. A hauntingly clean door. One she¡¯d never wished to enter again. Sweat ran down her spine as her feet forced her towards her pain. On shaking, involuntary steps, she drew closer until her broken hands stained the handle.

    It swung open with a silent ease.

    The low beeping of a stuttering heart-rate echoed from within: the music of decay.

    Autumn didn¡¯t want to enter. She didn¡¯t have a choice. Her body pulled her on broken strings into the room. In the darkened space, a single bright light shone down on a lonely bed. On white sheets, stained with blood and pus, lay a festering corpse.

    Her father.

    The strings pulled her closer to the bed. Her icy feet ground against the gore-coated tiles, leaving oozing sores behind. It forced her to look at the visage of her dying father. Thousands of wires carved into leathery yellowed skin stretched taut over fragile bones. Milky eyes stared up blankly as he rasped shallow breaths of icy mist.

    Cancer had claimed him years ago.

    Autumn tried to shy away, tried to flee, but she could not. She''d desperately wished to see him one last time, but not like this. Gone was the kind father who¡¯d tuck her in and read her game lore as bedtime stories.

    Now a mouth of worms whispered.

    ¡°You killed her.¡±

    The accusation crashed over Autumn, stalling her heart. The words had never been spoken aloud before, only existing in condemning eyes, and this was the last person she wanted to speak them. Wretched denials and tears could never wash away her sins. Her mother was dead because of her, because she didn¡¯t see, didn¡¯t react.

    ¡°You killed her.¡±

    Like another nail driven into a coffin, the words fell. Autumn¡¯s knees buckled and fell to the tarnished linoleum. Her shoulders shook under the damnation.

    ¡°YOU KILLED HER!¡±

    The deafening roar of the emaciated corpse knocked Autumn back. She fell backwards and through a floor of pus. Down, down, down she fell through the ether of dreams. Down she went until another nightmare caught her in a horrid grasp.

    Autumn''s hazy eyes settled on a series of beaten lockers made of cold-rolled steel, hers among them defaced and broken: the metal ripped, the lock crushed. The scent of adolescent body odor and insecurity hung in the air, accompanied by the rattle of a faulty air conditioner. A faceless crowd passed by in a constant stream as Autumn looked about.

    Suddenly, someone grabbed the back of Autumn¡¯s head and forcefully acquainted it with her savaged locker. She bounced off the metal with a bang and a cry, leaving behind a dent and a smear of blood.

    Autumn¡¯s cry of agony when unheard amongst cruel laughter and jeers.

    ¡°Slut! Whore! Do you think anybody likes you? That¡¯s the biggest joke I¡¯ve ever heard! Nobody loves you at all! They¡¯re ashamed to be related to you! Why do you think you''re the last to be picked for anything? It¡¯s because they don¡¯t want to be saddled with a burden. Why don¡¯t you just die?! Save us the trouble of looking at your ugly mug.¡±

    If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    The shadowy teenagers ripped at Autumn with words and claws. Hair came free from Autumn¡¯s scalp in bloody clumps. No matter how Autumn fought or cowered, the viscous hands would find her and mocking eyes would spear her.

    ¡°Nobody would miss you. Nobody.¡±

    Nobody did. The mass of shadowy students passed the violence by with bored, indifferent gazes. They only watched as twisted hands tore at Autumn, ripping her uniform from her body to leave her bare and bloody. She screamed for help that¡¯d never come as they flayed her alive. Blood pooled in the icy waters before flowing down the drains with all the other filth.

    ¡°I heard that this dyke hasn¡¯t left the closet yet. How about we put her where she belongs?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s locker wretched open with an air-splitting squeal of twisted metal. From within, hungry beasts of madness burst forth, sprinting across the space with baying voices. Her pleads and cries did nothing to stall the biting of sharp fangs. They tore into her limbs and dragged Autumn across the blood-slick floor.

    Fingernails broke off as she clawed at the tiles. With ease, the beasts hauled her into the dark locker and the door imprisoned her with a resounding bang. Autumn¡¯s breath came in sharp, fast panting and her dilated eyes locked onto a bright yellowed pair through the locker¡¯s slits.

    ¡°Enjoy yourself in there bitch. We¡¯ll be seeing you soon!¡±

    Fright forced Autumn to back away, and she tripped on the dream¡¯s unseen edge. Tumbling backwards, she left behind her stomach. A web of dreams stretched around Autumn where spiders of nightmares perched, eagerly awaiting the Witch.

    The third nightmare caught and bound her in a silken horror.

    Autumn stumbled onto a cracked driveway. Glancing up, a condemned ancient house loomed out of cloying fog and a weed-filled lawn. Three stories festered with peeling paint and windows of shattered teeth. All across the rotten yard lay the burnt tiles of a peaked roof.

    Reluctantly, Autumn approached with a battered suitcase in hand, her worthless life packed inside. Around her ruined body wound constricting bandages stained with blood and infection.

    A warped door stood in a slanted frame. Beside it, a tortured buzzer barely clung to life. Autumn pressed it with a nailless finger and it screamed and squealed inside the haunted building. Drawing her finger back hurriedly, it left a sticky fingerprint behind. From within the house came the howls of young monsters.

    Ice winds cut into her naked flesh as she waited.

    Over the chaos reigning inside came a set of booming footfalls of a giant. Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum. The warped door cracked and splintered as it opened. From the darkened gap a set of empty sockets peered out, slicing into her like razors.

    ¡°Yesss?¡± The voice hissed like a gas-leak.

    Autumn opened her mouth to speak, but she had no words¨Cthey¡¯d been stolen by dread. The monster within the door frowned in reply, and its furious intent scoured the streets behind her before zeroing back in on her lonesome body. Fright iced her again.

    ¡°You must be Autumn, right?¡± The voice hissed once more.

    Autumn could only nod in reply, her body uncooperative.

    Across the waxy skin stretched a too-wide grin of stained teeth. Long stick fingers beckoned her inside the broken home. The fingers were long enough to wrap around a thin wrist. The door yawed before Autumn like the great maw of a hungry beast.

    ¡°Welcome to my home. I am Mr. Lecocq.¡± His voice hissed.

    The creature was tall and thin, like a stick insect. Long limbs were constantly bent as he crawled through the corridors like a bottled spider. A weathered suit adorned his body in a mockery of cordiality. Greasy hair draped in clumps down his scarecrow visage.

    A cacophonous boom resounded behind Autumn. The wrapped door closed heavily to trap her, and the walls crept ever closer to devour Autumn.

    As much as she didn¡¯t want to, Autumn followed behind the thin monster as he scuttled down a hallway. Bloody footprints followed in her wake once more. Ink and blood mingled on the walls, infesting it with drawings most macabre. Fairies and ghouls taunted Autumn amongst the bloody handprints, and demons and devils danced across the stains in a mockery of all things good.

    In her mouth, Autumn¡¯s chattering teeth softened into a putty and glued her jaws together.

    A double pair of crimson goblin eyes watched Autumn with hunger. The thin man gestured a lanky limb out towards them, almost grasping onto them despite the distance.

    ¡°Those two gremlins are Willow and Maybell.¡±

    Thus named, the young monsters screamed in fright and mischief before disappearing deeper into the twisted hallways. Roars and challenges of larger beasts rocked the house, sending dust down upon Autumn¡¯s bleeding head.

    The thin man climbed up a set of groaning stairs like a spider. Hollowed sockets stared down at Autumn as she carefully crept up the creaking column.

    ¡°You¡¯ll have to forgive them. They¡¯re rather young and excitable. Aside from yourself, there are six others living here. The two youngest you¡¯ve already met, Willow and Maybell, then there¡¯s the three boys Justin, Peter and Tomi. Finally, there¡¯s the oldest girl, Trian. You¡¯ll be rooming with her.¡±

    Thus, Autumn was condemned again.

    They pushed Autumn into a dilapidated bedroom. Blood and water lapped at her skinless ankles, black eels squirming inside like a magnificent beard. Infinity gazed up from below. Two beds made of children¡¯s bones lay in opposition to each other. Offal stained them, a beating heart gushed lifeblood onto Autumn¡¯s pillow.

    A herald of doom spoke from the doorway.

    ¡°It¡¯s all your fault. You know that right?¡±

    Whirling in fright, Autumn saw a gaunt teenage reaper. Black veil and jeans clad her skeletal frame. A halo of dark light framed her as she stood in the doorway, blocking Autumn in. Eyes cried black blood as they bore into Autumn.

    The heat beat loudly behind Autumn as her torn open chest clenched.

    ¡°It¡¯s all your fault that they all die. Your father, your mother, those villages. It won¡¯t stop, you know? You are a curse on existence. A blight. You bring naught but pain and horror in your bloody steps. In all futures I have seen, you are but a harsh mistress to life. Alone you will be, forever. Hollow. Broken. Bloated on fear. You¡¯ll exist as a sin upon the world until some brave hero shall rise up to slay your putrescence. You think of yourself as the protagonist? You are the villain, predestined to die.¡±

    The foul prophecy crashed down on Autumn¡¯s mind. An incomprehensible horror.

    In the harsh light of truth the nightmare grew till it dwarfed Autumn and she quailed before the nightmare¡¯s wrathful might. Autumn scrambled backwards and tripped on the bed of bones, and it shattered under her weight. The black oiled girl watched on impassibly as Autumn fell down a well of despair.

    A Witch¡¯s black eyes ran with violet oil.

    As the horror consumed her aching heart the teenage reaper whispered. ¡°Goodbye sister.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s eyes snapped open.

 Chapter Forty-Seven: A Sugary Morning

    The vestiges of nightmares clung to Autumn¡¯s mind as she awoke. Already the foul images were draining down into a hazy recollection, leaving behind only lingering fear and sweat. With a pulse of will, Autumn pulled the coils of fear out and into her hat resting nearby.

    Now settled, Autumn took in her predicament.

    During the night, she¡¯d tossed and turned in the throes of the nightmare. Her flailing limbs were an annoyance for her sleeping companions. So, in order to quell her thrashing and soothe her panicked sleep, muscular arms had wrapped around her and drawn her into a comforting embrace. This, of course, meant she awoke in a fiery embrace.

    A blush ran rampant over Autumn¡¯s features.

    ¡°Good morning. You had a rough night?¡±

    The bright orange eyes of a pirate gazed at Autumn from only less than a foot away. Liddie had too snuggled up against Autumn¡¯s warmth in the cold of night. Not as tightly as Nethlia, but still far too close for Autumn¡¯s comfort.

    An instinctual denial rose to Autumn¡¯s lips amidst her mind¡¯s stuttering shock.

    ¡°N-no. It was just a nightmare. I don¡¯t even r-remember it. I-I¡¯m f-fine.¡±

    Autumn felt like she was burning up. Her back was pressed up against powerful musculature that felt like granite more than flesh and far too close to her front was a roguishly beautiful demoness. It was by far more flustering than some half-forgotten dreams.

    ¡°U-umm, c-could you help get me out of this please?¡±

    Autumn gestured to the thick arm wrapped around her waist. While she wished to luxuriate in her muscular entrapment a moment longer, her stomach and embarrassment had other plans. A deep rumble emerged from beneath her clothes to accompany the furious blush on her features.

    ¡°Wow. That¡¯s some beast you got caged in there. Best we feed it before someone mistakes it for an actual monster¡¯s roar. Are you sure you don¡¯t want to rest there a moment longer? I sure as hells would.¡±

    ¡°Please, just help me. She¡¯s too strong; I need air!¡±

    The slumbering berserker was possessive in her hold of Autumn, her grip tight around the smaller girl¡¯s waist. As neither of them enjoyed the strength to match her, it took no small amount of struggle to free Autumn from that firm embrace.

    ¡°Well, that certainly worked up an appetite. What say we go get something to eat?¡± Liddie asked as she panted.

    Autumn nodded, and the pair were lured by the smells of a hearty breakfast. In the embers of the central cook fire lay large hollowed-out crab shells, easily the size of a traditional wok. Inside these chitinous bowls was a creamy aromatic crab and onion soup simmering away.

    Instantly, Autumn was salivating.

    They exchanged a few copper coins for a smaller crab-shell filled with soup. Autumn broke out the few remaining scraps of Duskwheat bread she had and shared it with Liddie. After so many days on the road, the once fluffy breads had become hard as rock and the soup offered a perfect medium to make it palatable once again. Her taste buds exploded under the powerful flavors.

    It took two more bowls worth to satiate her voracious stomach.

    Just as Autumn was scraping clean her bowl with the final crumbs of dread, Gilralei sat down beside her with her own bowl. Behind her hid the all too familiar form of the Felis Eme, who waved shyly at Autumn with a blush covering her face.

    ¡°Any good?¡± Gilralei asked.

    Autumn swallowed the last of her soup before replying. ¡°It¡¯s great. It goes well with trail rations too.¡± Looking behind the Elf, Autumn waved back at Eme. ¡°H-hi Eme, would you like a seat? I was just going.¡±

    ¡°Oh. N-no, that¡¯s fine. I was j-just wondering if you¡¯d like¡­maybe we c-could get a drink? Together I mean! Later sometime? It¡¯s ok if you don¡¯t want to! I just was¡­the thing¡­ I-I, bye!¡± Eme squeaked as she ducked beside her amused captain.

    ¡°Sure!¡± Autumn squeaked back. ¡°I¡¯d like that! Later? Like¡­Yeah later! Bye!¡± Autumn hid her burning face beneath her hat as she retreated, sending a parting wave to the air. Did it make it more or less embarrassing that she couldn¡¯t remember much of their night together?

    Before she was out of earshot, she heard Gilarlei say to Eme, ¡°See? It wasn¡¯t so bad.¡±

    Liddie looked on in amusement.

    ¡°So, you and the Felis girl, huh? I guess that explains all those bite marks you¡¯ve collected. I¡¯m not judging you or anything, I¡¯m just surprised that¡¯s all, didn¡¯t expect it out of you! I¡¯m proud! Now, if you need any tips, let me know. I know this one thing you can do with your tongue¨C¡±

    Autumn blushed harder.

    ¡°That¡¯s OK! I don¡¯t want to hear it!¡±

    ¡°Hear what?¡± Nethlia rubbed at her sleepy eyes, Autumn¡¯s shout having finally woken her.

    ¡°Nothing!¡± Autumn said before Liddie could add any unnecessary details. The pirate just smirked.

    Nethlia squinted suspiciously. Before she could interrogate either of them, the wafting smells of breakfast caught her attention, and she gravitated over to the food. While Autumn knew Nethlia could put away a massive quantity of food, it was still gloriously shocking to see her demolish the pot of soup, eating nearly double what Autumn and Liddie had together.

    Eventually, the others joined them and grabbed what they could before Nethlia ate everything.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    In the midst of the destruction, Captain Gilareli came back over. She paused with a queasy look on her face as she took in the sheer quantity of soup that disappeared into Nethlia.

    ¡°R-Right, that¡¯s certainly a sight. Captain Nethlia? There¡¯s a meeting soon between the captains and village elders. If you could¡­finish up quickly, we¡¯ve not much time as we need to leave around midday if we want to remain on schedule.¡±

    Nethlia swallowed the last of her soup in one large gulp before turning to the awaiting captain.

    ¡°I remember.¡± Nethlia turned to the rest of the party. ¡°Make sure we have at least four days of rations before we depart? This¡¯ll be our last chance to resupply, and we don¡¯t want to risk foraging in the swamps on such a tight deadline.¡±

    Liddie mock-saluted.

    ¡°AYE AYE, Cap-i-tain.¡±

    Nethlia rolled her eyes before smiling at Autumn, causing the poor Witch¡¯s heart to kick up.

    ¡°Autumn, you¡¯re in charge of finances. As we¡¯ve not a lot of money on hand, try to stick to the essentials.¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°You can leave it with me.¡±

    With Nethlia¡¯s departure, the party split up further. Nelva, Pyre, and Edwyn went to resupply their depleted stocks of alchemical ingredients and get their damaged arms and armor repaired, while Autumn and Liddie went out in search of dried foodstuffs. Ten days had passed since they¡¯d begun their journey and their rations were exhausted.

    Exiting the Drowned Tyrant, Autumn stood upon a rickety walkway beside Liddie and gazed out over the waters of the settlement.

    Across the early-morning waters was a vast collection of fishing vessels. They dotted the muddy waters like grains of sand upon a beach. It surprised Autumn to see so many in such a small village. However, rather than hauling up nets full of fish as she expected, the fishermen and women hauled up massive net-traps bound around mud crabs, each the size of Autumn¡¯s torso. They snapped angrily at the fisherfolk with serrated claws.

    ¡°Snapclaws. Imaginative name, right? They¡¯re downright dangerous if you don¡¯t mind your footing. You¡¯ll have a peg-leg before you know it,¡± Liddie said with a laugh.

    ¡°Are they very common in the swamps?¡± Autumn asked.

    She watched nervously as one furiously fought against its capturers, the noise of its snapping pincers loud even from this far away.

    ¡°They sure are! And they¡¯re not even the worst thing out in the Mire. That¡¯s why we¡¯re getting one of the local Mireguard Rangers as a guide. Let¡¯s get our rations so that we can have some fun!¡±

    Liddie slipped her hand into Autumn¡¯s and pulled her across the walkways. The heat of the contact warmed her in the chill of the morning. Autumn had to hastily pick up her pace to match the longer strides of the demoness. Instinctively, she grasped onto her hat in one hand as they ran.

    Unlike Duskfield¡¯s packed marketplace full of noisy barkers, Bogward¡¯s farmer¡¯s market was practically tranquil by comparison. Small monger stalls sat inside one of the few open spaces upon the central tree¡¯s roots. While the rain continued to pour down on the settlement, the boughs and leaves provided a decent enough cover as only a few drops made it through. Bright colored cloth stretched overhead acted as a last line of defense for the wares and shoppers below.

    Hands still connected, Liddie dragged Autumn over to a local food monger. Most of the wares were more swamp-themed than Autumn was used to; dried mushrooms and crabmeats being the mainstays.

    As the party had yet to gather any sort of party funds, Autumn had to dip into her own pouch to cover the cost of the rations. Luckily, for four days of dried food for six people, it only came to 9g 60s in total.

    Still, it was a fair chunk of her wealth.

    ¡°Hey Autumn! What do you think? Does it suit me?¡±

    Liddie held up a necklace of chitin and amber against her slender neck. The amber matched her glittering eyes and Autumn¡¯s eyes drew to the way light played through it upon her cherry-red skin. It startlingly reminded Autumn of just how attractive the pirate actually was underneath all the teasing.

    ¡°I-it looks good on you.¡±

    Liddie¡¯s eyes narrowed as she took in Autumn¡¯s lackluster reply. ¡°Just good? I don¡¯t want it anymore.¡± She tossed it back to the stall she¡¯d found it on.

    Grabbing Autumn¡¯s hand once more, she dragged Autumn across to a few other stalls. Occasionally she¡¯d inspect a few bits and baubles in interest or ask Autumn for her opinion, but nothing really caught her eye. Other than a few bits of jewelry, everything else was meant for local consumption: food, cloth, tools, etc.

    ¡°Here taste this!¡±

    Liddie held up a small confectionery marble made up of a hardened sugary syrup around a nut that Autumn didn¡¯t recognize. Autumn pulled back from the treat brushing against her lips.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t we already eat?¡±

    Liddie glared. ¡°This is this; that was that! Plus, it¡¯s candy, so open up already!¡±

    Obediently, Autumn ate the proffered treat. The taste was very sweet and paired well with the earthy flavor of the nut. It didn¡¯t beat a good chocolate-bar, but Liddie seemed inordinately pleased with herself. Still clutching onto Autumn¡¯s hand, she continued to drag Autumn all over the marketplace until they reached the far end, where it crested up against the water¡¯s edge. Out in the water were rows of trestles submerged in the water.

    ¡°Oh! Look at those, that¡¯s Sugarmoss: the stuff they make Mosswine from. The name¡¯s a bit of a misnomer, seeing as it¡¯s made of moss, not grapes. It¡¯d be more accurate to call it Mossrum or something, but I don¡¯t think it¡¯d sell as well, you know?¡±

    As they watched a crew of farmers hauled up a section of the trellis to reveal a coated carpet of bright red moss. It looked almost like bloody flesh on a grater. The Sugarmoss wasn¡¯t the only water-borne vegetation being farmed, floating on the water-farms were all sorts of flowering berry flowers, stalks of vibrant flaxes, and bright mushrooms.

    ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s go buy a bunch of Mosswine for the journey back home. We can get it much cheaper here than back home.¡±

    Liddie pulled on Autumn¡¯s arm towards a large, almost factory-like building. Autumn ground her boots into the wood to slow the flighty pirate.

    ¡°Hey wait! We¡­I don¡¯t have that much money left! We can¡¯t spend everything on booze, you heard Nethlia.¡±

    ¡°Pshh! What does that killjoy know? All adventurer teams supplement their income by buying local goods and selling them at their next destination. Plus, we have some money coming in from the Quillodile sales. I can talk to the sellers and get us a good price. You¡¯ll make at least double your investment in Duskfields, guaranteed!¡±

    ¡°But how are we going to transport it?! I¡¯m pretty sure weight is a big issue in a bog!¡±

    Liddie laughed.

    ¡°While I appreciate the thought, as I¡¯d dearly love to booze it up in the swamp, we¡¯ll put in an order now to pick it up when we return. I¡¯ve done it before. It¡¯ll be fine!¡±

    By the time Liddie had finished, they¡¯d arrived before the factory-looking building. From the water¡¯s edge, workers hauled the large trellis of Sugarmoss into a dry dock to be processed into sugar and, subsequently, Mosswine. Just inside the building, there was a small reception area where a large demon sat. Upon their entry, he eyed them curiously.

    ¡°Greetings to Danxies¡¯ Sugar Works, how may I help you today?¡±

    Liddie strode towards the desk with confidence and a grin. ¡°My greetings in return. My name is Liddie Eastoft and I¡¯m interested in a bulk purchase of Mosswine. I¡¯ve done business here before and I found the prices more than reasonable and I hope they¡¯ll be so today!¡±

    When the demon heard she was a twice-named demoness, his eyes widened and his posture straightened. ¡°Of course, Miss Eastoft, you¡¯ll find the prices here unbeatable!¡±

    As Liddie¡¯s grin sharpened, Autumn could already feel a hole opening up in her coin-pouch.

 Chapter Forty-Eight : Smoke and Mires

    The hollowness of Autumn¡¯s coin-pouch echoed the empty feeling inside her heart. How Liddie had swindled her into investing all her money into alcohol trading, she¡¯d never know. Liddie¡¯s own heavy investment into the scheme mollified her somewhat, knowing she wasn''t the only one broke.

    Autumn was still miffed.

    ¡°Like I said, we can make double our investment back when we get to Duskfields!¡±

    The self-satisfied grin on her face undercut Liddie¡¯s attempts at reassuring her. With her slim chest puffed up in pride, the charming pirate strutted down the walkway in front of Autumn, hands threaded behind her head and boots thudding on the wood.

    Autumn wasn¡¯t having any of it, no matter how handsome she was looking.

    ¡°You brought 130 crates of Mosswine, Liddie. Not 130 bottles, crates. Just how are we meant to sell all that?! Can our wagon even fit that? How heavy is that? 32 gold, all gone.¡± Autumn lamented.

    Confident steps faltered, making Liddie miss a step and almost fall on her face. She sent an embarrassed look Autumn¡¯s way when she recovered.

    ¡°Ok, I¡¯ll admit that I got a little, tiny, miniscule bit carried away. But! But! I promise, promise you that I¡¯ll get you your money back! 100% You can always count on a pirate to¡­yeahhhh, now that I say it out loud¡­Anyway, stop worrying. It¡¯ll work out fine, you¡¯ll see.¡±

    While Liddie felt sincere to her, Autumn couldn¡¯t help but worry; she¡¯d sunk all her money into this. Well, except for the share of the Quillodiles sales allocated to their party, but that wasn¡¯t her personal funds.

    It was a good thing then that they¡¯ll be out in the swamplands for the next four days; Future Autumn could worry about it.

    After taking a calming breath, Autumn readdressed her liquor-buying-compatriot.

    ¡°What is your plan, then? I hope it¡¯s not just to sell it to the taverns or something.¡±

    Liddie blinked owlishly at Autumn. ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡±

    Autumn massaged her brow in frustration. Perhaps this was something she should have asked before going along with Liddie¡¯s whims. The puppy dog eyes being sent her way weren¡¯t helping. How she was doing it with glowing orange eyes boggled the mind.

    ¡°Liddie. I doubt even the Adventurer¡¯s Guild would go through that much in a year. You-We brought 130 crates worth of liquor. Crates!¡± The puppy-eyes came back. ¡°A-ah, fuck it. We¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll figure something out later. It¡¯ll be fine, Autumn, it¡¯ll be fine.¡± The witch muttered to herself.

    Liddie grinned brightly. ¡°Heh, I could drink that much in a year.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s eyelid twitched. ¡°If you did, you¡¯d die. Let me stress it one more time. Crates!!!¡±

    Luckily for the spiraling conversation, and Autumn¡¯s stress levels, they arrived at the set gathering point.

    A series of docks stretched out into the water like a ribcage of weathered wood. Small swamp-boats lined the edges while their boatmen awaited with smoking pipes in hand. The few adventurers dotting the dock paid heed to the earliness of their arrival.

    Seeing an excess of time on her hands, Autumn took to looking over the gathered villagers. Scattered amongst the building porches and steps were a collection of wizened elders idling away their time with games, crafts, or just watching over the younger children zipping about. Most, however, puffed away at pipes that spewed forth a riot of colors and shapes.

    Autumn recognized one elder they had met yesterday, Akarr, if she recalled correctly. As she watched, the elder puffed out a vibrant cloud of smoke that formed into a slithering snake that weaved through the air.

    ¡°Interested in a pipe yourself?¡± Akarr asked, having spotted Autumn¡¯s inquiring gaze.

    Embarrassed at being caught staring, Autumn blushed and lowered her face beneath her hat. Liddie''s focus was on the mind-altering substances, and she pulled Autumn along, despite her stuttered protests.

    ¡°Are we ever! Hi, my name¡¯s Liddie Eastoft and this is the wonderful Witch Autumn.¡± Liddie beamed expectantly at the elder.

    Akarr stared blankly at the pirate. ¡°Good for you, girly. Did you want a smoke or not?¡±

    Liddie scowled. The pirate had bandied her name about all day, but this was the first time she didn¡¯t get the respect she expected. Autumn spotted a steely glint in the elder¡¯s eye and, in an effort not to annoy one of the village¡¯s leaders, spoke before Liddie could.

    ¡°U-um. What is it? In the pipe, I mean, or is it the pipe itself that does the colored smoke¡­stuff?¡±

    The elder, Akarr, pulled her gaze off of Liddie and looked Autumn over. A brief light of interest and respect flickered behind her murky orange eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s Bog Gutweed. Just a mild painkiller to take the ache off of the old joints. Nothing addictive or anything like that, if you''re worried.¡±

    Liddie blinked, surprise breaking her from her mood.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    ¡°Huh? I thought it was a regulated substance? Sent to the army and hospitals? It fetches a decent amount on the black market¡­I mean¡­What?¡±

    Akarr winked at Autumn before giving Liddie a stink eye for her comment.

    ¡°We elders have our ways. I¡¯ve got a spare pipe here. Go on and give it a try. You look like you could use it more than me. Kekeke.¡±

    The elder cackled like a Witch might.

    Autumn eyed the packed pipe that Elder Akarr held out warily. Seeing Autumn¡¯s hesitation, Liddie took the pipe herself and took a drag. From her mouth came a smoke pirate ship, complete with an accompaniment of sea monsters chasing it.

    A look of calm relaxation smoothed Liddie¡¯s face, and she offered the pipe over to Autumn.

    Although Autumn was mildly reluctant to indulge in an unknown drug, her teenage rebellion piqued her curiosity. Grasping it lightly in her prosthetic fingers, Autumn drew in a lungful of tickling smoke before coughing it out into a cavalcade of galloping nightmares.

    Autumn¡¯s sputtering was met with the boisterous laughter of a pirate. She ignored that as a wave of calm washed over her body; it floated up to her eyes, and the world took on a new splash of brighter saturation. The greens were greener, the reds redder, blues bluer.

    A haze of bountiful color enveloped her.

    And as the smokey magical drug settled in her limbs, the aches and pains of her journeys soothed. The phantom fingers she didn¡¯t even know she had eased away.

    ¡°Give us another pull.¡±

    Liddie stretched a hand out for the pipe and Autumn let her have it. More sea monsters twirled and divided through the air. Autumn was half expecting a Kraken to appear, but it was absent. She saw a Sharktopus though, so there was that.

    A childish squeal of glee took her attention away from the smoke monsters. Rushing about the walkways was a gaggle of Inferni children. As she idly watched, several of them bounced between the walkways by jumping atop lone poles in the swamps that farmers were using to anchor traps and trellis.

    A young demoness jumped from pillar to pillar in unsteady leaps. When she landed she¡¯d windmill her arms to steady herself, before letting out a bark of laughter and jumping again.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that dangerous?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Elder Akarr looked over at the children. ¡°Sure, but that¡¯s the point. Even if they fall, they have a family to fish them out.¡±

    Elder Akarr pointed to the fishermen and women watching over the jumping children with faint fondness and recollection adorning their faces. To emphasize her point, the young demoness mistimed her jump and fell to the bog with a shriek, and an amused demoness soon fished her out.

    ¡°The question is: who¡¯ll haul you out of the muck when you fall in?¡±

    <hr>

    Autumn¡¯s bone white fingers bit deeply into the wood of the boat¡¯s prowl. Cold sweat dripped down her back beneath all her layers of protection. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see desperate souls grasping at her, yet when she turned, there was naught but tranquil muddy waters passing her by.

    They¡¯d been on the water for a few hours by now.

    When the meeting had finally finished, the adventurers all piled into the awaiting boats and set off. Able-bodied boatmen ferried them out into the nearby river: Deadman¡¯s Gullet. The river of silt and mud carved its way north through the mire till it broke around marsh islands in the Bay of Treachery.

    At the flash of a familiar skull, Autumn swiveled back to the ferryman piloting their boat, only to see a bird-skull mask instead.

    ¡°First time on a boat?¡± Liddie asked.

    Autumn took a deep breath before replying.

    ¡°N-no, just¡­unpleasant experiences with rivers. Oceans too, but I can¡¯t remember why.¡±

    Infinite madness lurked just beyond the outstretched fingers of comprehension before it vanished in a contemptuous wave.

    ¡°Well, if you¡¯re going to puke, do it overboard.¡±

    Liddie left Autumn to her nervous contemplations. The young Witch gazed out over the slow waters. Great swarms of incessantly buzzing insects danced a myriad of patterns over the low grasses. Pyre¡¯s alchemical concoctions, an item she¡¯d shilled to the other teams for a mostly reasonable price, kept the bloodsuckers at bay. Still, they followed in their wake like great hungry clouds.

    The line of boats followed the natural flows of the river for the better part of the afternoon. Grand gatherings of willowing, grasping trees passed them by in between open expanses of peat and spires of rotten dead trees.

    Giant frogs the size of boulders added to the hymn of swamp life, bellowing croaks to shake the heavens and earth. Occasionally, lashing tongues would strike out to pluck passing birds from flight and swallow them whole.

    Autumn swallowed her surprise and focused her magical sight on the waters and riverbank. Thanks to her abilities, they had relegated her to the bow. Not that it had proven much use; other than the occasional aquatic life shadowing their wake, everything else seemed content in avoiding their travels.

    Nothing Fae in nature had approached, at any rate.

    Turning back, Autumn took in her party. Under her sight, she got a clear view of their emotional states; everyone displayed varying degrees of watchful caution. Nethlia sat like a statue, keeping sharp eyes on the monsters teaming the riverbanks. Liddie on the other hand was nearly slumbering under the gentle sway of the boat.

    Autumn shook her head in exasperation.

    What little she could see of Edwyn¡¯s face was green. The Manus had already puked twice and looked to be on the course of another round of feeding the fishes. It made sense to her now why there were so many following the boats.

    Wisely, Autumn turned her attention to the other two members. Pyre looked no less nervous than Autumn, but for different reasons; the closer they got to the end, the closer they got to violence. The rattle of glass vials upon one another accompanied the rhythms of the swamp. Nelva sat in opposition to her; calm, cool, and collected. She whispered words of encouragement to the nerve-struck alchemist.

    Autumn turned her sight back to the waters, her eyes shaded by her large Witch hat.

    Time¡¯s passage went uncontested. And as the sun dimmed, they arrived at their destination.

    A dead fort rose from the swamps on a spit of land. Stone had crumbled into ruins under the assault of time and the denizens of the mire. Its watchtower-like keep lay gutted, casting a skeletal gaze down upon the riverbank. Dilapidated walls bordered the waterline in a vain attempt at keeping the water out as vast holes perforated the aged stone.

    It was into one of these broken breaches they entered the ruins.

    Autumn¡¯s boat bumped up against a ramshackle dock. Eager to feel solid ground beneath her feet, Autumn jumped clear of the boat first, scrambling away from the ghosts in her memory. After she¡¯d helped tie the boats onto the dock, the others joined her with looks of either relief or amusement.

    Nethlia looked over at the party.

    ¡°Alright team, we¡¯ve made it halfway down the river. From what the scouts have told us, it¡¯s about a two-day journey east across the mire from here. We¡¯ll be heading out first thing in the morning, so let¡¯s try to find a dry spot for the night.¡±

    To save weight, they¡¯d left their tents behind. Seeking refuge, they stumbled upon one of the few available hiding spots from the ever-pouring rain and used their raincoats as improvised coverings over what gaps there were.

    With a yawn on her lips, Autumn slipped into a slumber, surrounded by friends and the wails of a night swamp.

 Chapter Forty-Nine: The Dead Fort

    Autumn yawned as she gazed out over the Restless Mire. Her place upon the ruined walls surrounding the dead fort offered her an unparalleled view. The waterlogged bog crested up upon the crumbling walls and stretched off into the distance. Gravestones of calcified trees dotted the fetid waters as far as the eye could see.

    High above in the inky expanse of black and red, twin full moons hung. Their bright moon glows reflecting in the bog waters.

    Autumn resisted the temptation to howl.

    A deep chill rolled across the landscape and drove the low-lying fog into furious action. Autumn shivered as it bit into her; three layers of clothing proving to be a layer too few. Hot breath soothed frigid fingers before they tucked back beneath her armpits.

    Out in the mire, bright lights appeared. They ducked and danced in a mesmerizing display over the murky pools. Autumn watched, entranced.

    ¡°Wills-o¡¯-the-wisp. Be careful not to lose yourself to their sway.¡±

    Autumn turned to the speaker. Just cresting the weathered stone steps was one of the Lepus spearmen from Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule. Dressed in a silken padded gambeson, they looked far warmer than Autumn felt, but she didn¡¯t envy the metal chainmail and bone chestplate they had to lug through the swampy terrain.

    She nodded politely as they joined her to watch out over the mire.

    ¡°Harold de Vere, at your service.¡±

    He stretched out a hand in greeting that Autumn met.

    ¡°Witch Autumn.¡±

    A silence descended over the pair. Other than playing a few games of Adventurer''s Gambit and getting help from their captain in Everwatch, Autumn had little interaction with the larger group. To that point, she should probably thank them and apologize for her drunkenness.

    ¡°U-um, I haven¡¯t thanked your captain yet for their aid back in Everwatch. I don¡¯t know what might¡¯ve happened if they hadn¡¯t stepped in. C-could you pass on my thanks?¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no need for thanks mon ami, adventurers stick together, but I¡¯ll let him know.¡±

    Autumn ducked a grateful smile beneath the brim of her hat. As the chill of the night swept past them she spoke up once more.

    ¡°Does your party operate around here much?¡±

    ¡°Around Bogward or the Barony?¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Either.¡±

    ¡°Well, we¡¯ve only been in the Barony for about a year or two. But this is our first time in the Restless Mire. The Duchy of Blonhofn has its own fair share of wetlands along the Dark Tide, so we are not too far out of our element.¡±

    ¡°Is Blonhofn far from the Barony?¡±

    Harold shook his head.

    ¡°Not far at all. The Duchy of Blonhofn borders the Echea Empire to the east, just a few provinces over. We¡¯re a vassal state, among a few others.¡±

    ¡°Is it mainly Lepus folk in Blonhofn?¡±

    ¡°Mostly, but there are quite a few Inferni in the cities along the border. How about yourself? Where do you hail from?¡±

    ¡°Me?...I¡¯m just a wanderer really. Was born on the road, and my feet have carried me since.¡±

    Autumn shuffled nervously, clutching herself as the bitter winds and pouring rain cut into her. If Harold noticed her lies he didn¡¯t say. The pair cast their eyes over the marshes brightly lit by the twin moons.

    ¡°What¡­What about your captain? Was he in your army or something? I¡¯ve noticed you guys seem more like a small army. Do you do much training?¡±

    Harold puffed up in pride.

    ¡°Captain Arsit Blontir once captained the Royal Guard of the Duchy. He protected the current ruling line for years before retiring to lead a force around the Empire to aid the people. He¡¯s the pride of our nation, and I¡¯m honored to be a part of his vanguard of righteousness. When it comes to training, we received the top-notch regimen that even trained the royal guard."

    ¡°T-that¡¯s Impressive!¡±

    ¡°Heh, That¡¯s not all we¡ª¡±

    An unholy scream cut off Harold¡¯s words as it ripped through the night. Autumn was driven to her knees, clutching at her ears, by the painful resonance. Blood spotted her hands when she drew them away and the world grew muffled around her. She felt sick, her equilibrium ruptured. Looking up, she spotted Harold resting against the wall, blood trickling down his ears. He turned towards her to speak. His mouth opened and closed, but Autumn heard nothing.

    Pointing a finger at him she spoke in his mind.

    [Are you ok?! What was that?!]

    Harold flinched as the creeping whispers invaded his mind. However, his shock only lasted a moment before he calmed.

    [I¡¯m fine. That was a banshee¡¯s scream. Be careful; when they wail it means death.]

    Standing up on nauseous feet, Autumn steadied herself against a portion of the ruined wall. The world around her took on a treacherous tilt and her stomach rebelled. Autumn hurriedly lent over the side of the wall and puked down on the mire below. The wind shifted and with it came, not her own sick, but the stench of rotting meat and foul magic.

    As Autumn watched the swamps, pinpricks of malicious intent awoke beneath the boggy water.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    Hands of decayed flesh and bone breached the fetid waters, soon followed by grinning skulls that oozed putrefied flesh. In droves, the rust-clad dead clawed their way to an unlife. Skeletal knights and soldiers who¡¯d once called this fort home now arose with the very foes that murdered them. The drowned dead, bloated and lifeless, moved forward in a staggering or crawling march. A horde of death wielded unholy enmity in hollowed eyes and blades of rust in broken hands as they marched upon the living.

    Autumn watched on in horror as they carpeted the mire, stumbling through bogs and pools in an unrelenting march.

    Behind the crumbling walls, the adventurers and guardsmen scrambled about like an agitated hive of wasps; the banshee¡¯s wail having unceremoniously awoken them. One of the Duskguards rushed up the stone steps while Autumn watched over the growing horde.

    The lone guardsman now stood in front of Harold, trying in vain to talk to him.

    The scent of death and rot was stronger than ever.

    Harold stood with his back to Autumn, blocking her line of sight to the newly arrived guardsman. She couldn¡¯t see either¡¯s face, but her instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong. She couldn¡¯t explain it; perhaps it was the smell, the body language, or the deep well of hunger that didn¡¯t belong in him. Maybe it was a combination of all three. Either way she was learning to trust her gut.

    Autumn drew her wand, pointing it out to the guardsman, but she was too late.

    A blade sprouted from Harold¡¯s back in a spray of crimson, punched through the gaps in the armor. Harold attempted to fight back, but the guardsman was surprisingly strong. In a flash, the guardsman¡¯s face twisted to a horrifying visage of a rotting face with far too many needle-like teeth. The ghoul bit down on Harold¡¯s exposed throat and ripped a chunk free. Swallowing the gore, the ghoul¡¯s face twisted once more and changed into Harold¡¯s face.

    The ghoul grinned at her with evil intent. Its foul stench remained in the air. A lifeless corpse dropped to the stones with a soundless clatter before beginning to twitch with unlife.

    Autumn lashed out with a Jinx of Fear. It splashed harmlessly across the false-form of Harold, for what did the dead have to fear?

    The ghoul grinned in triumph, stalking ever closer.

    Autumn hurriedly scrambled back, but in her nausea and disorientation, she slipped on the rain-slick stones and went tumbling over the edge of the wall. To her fortune, it was the camp¡¯s side. In a soundless scream she fell, gazing up at the surprised face of the False-Harold. Her back met with the spongy loam soil and the air was driven from her lungs. Gasping, she rolled over till she gazed out towards the camp. Through hazy eyes, she spotted Captain Arsit as he rallied the defenses.

    Luckily, she didn¡¯t need air to send a whisper into his mind.

    [Shapeshifter! Harold¡¯s Dead!]

    Captain Arsit gaze snapped over to her before gazing up at the wall where False-Harold stood. A hard look crossed his face and all she got back over her magic was a single hard word.

    [Alright.]

    As she was lying there, trying to recapture her breath, she remembered a titbit of folklore about the banshees: they are the predictors and herald of death. Autumn was just wondering whether the wailing was for Harold or her.

    Autumn¡¯s morbid musings halted as she was grasped by her coat and hauled up. She thrashed about, attempting to free herself of the iron grasp until her eyes landed upon her captor. Nethlia held the witch up like a wet kitten. She mouthed something at her, but Autumn only heard a buzz of static. She pointed to her ears while shaking her head.

    [I can¡¯t hear. There¡¯s an undead horde outside the walls and some sort of shapeshifters inside.]

    Nethlia frowned.

    [Well shit. Wait, can she hear this?! Quick, Nethlia, don¡¯t think about how cute she is¡­FUCK!]

    Autumn fought down the inappropriate blush and the quirk on her lips.

    Nethlia carried Autumn like precious, if a tad muddy, cargo over to a frazzled-looking Pyre. The alchemist quickly applied a few drops of healing potion into her ears and prevalent fuzziness was replaced by the symphony of the dead: a rattling of ten-thousand bones mixed with a thousand putrid voices rising in concordant discord.

    Her warning about the horde seemed redundant now.

    ¡°Did you get cut?¡± Pyre asked insistently, drawing Autumn¡¯s attention back. ¡°Ghouls have toxic claws. If you get clawed, I need to get you an antidote as soon as possible.¡±

    Autumn shook her head.

    ¡°No, no cuts. Just a bit sore from the fall.¡±

    Pyre breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°Alright. Here, take an Alchemist Fire with you. Shake, then throw, and be careful with it.¡± Pyre thrust a bright orange potion in Autumn¡¯s hands, which she took gingerly; she¡¯d seen what they could do.

    With her hearing healed, Autumn focused back on the battle ongoing. A shield wall formed between each of the crumbling gaps in the wall. The horde of mangled flesh and bone crashed against braced shields like a wave of grasping limbs. Over the heads of the defenders, spears and halberds lanced and felled a score of undead with each sweep or blow.

    Yet more and more dead came.

    Captain Arsit bellowed commands across the battlefield.

    ¡°Dig in on those bloody flanks! Captain Ekrus, take over the left; it¡¯s buckling under the dead-ogres! Archers, I want you on those walls now! Hold lads, the clerics will have us buffed in no time!¡±

    Spotting Autumn and Nethlia approaching, he paused in his shouting to address her.

    ¡°Witch Autumn, can you pick out those shapeshifters?¡±

    Autumn nodded; she remembered the smell, the bottomless hunger.

    ¡°Good. Take one of my clerics with you; they can burn away any disguise they hold. I¡¯m trusting you with a commissarial command: the authority to execute anyone you deem a ghoul.¡± He gave Autumn a hard look. ¡°Don¡¯t fuck it up.¡±

    Autumn gulped.

    ¡°Undead Giant!¡± A call came up from the lines as something heavy boomed in the distance. Captain Arsit swore as he turned back the breaking lines.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare step back! Hold that line!¡±

    From the back ranks stepped forth fiery retribution in the form of a familiar cleric; the very same that¡¯d healed Autumn before. She smiled grimly at the pair. Not a drop of foul ichor marred her white and gold vestiges.

    ¡°Witch Autumn, I didn¡¯t introduce myself last time. My name is Yvanne de Seguzzo. We are going Ghoul hunting, yes?¡±

    In her eyes was the wrath of a goddess.

    The trio quickly scoured the camp for the lurking ghouls. They found three with ease, lurking in the middle of the camp, hoping to feast upon the wounded. Hunger gave away while holy flame and heavy hammer sent them back to their bog-graves. The fourth was no more difficult to find: the beast yet to shed its Harold guise. With a roar of anguish, Yvanne unleashed her holy wrath upon the creature wearing her friend¡¯s face. As the ash danced upon the wind, she bid them thanks and headed back to the lines.

    Autumn rushed towards the walls, holding the Alchemist¡¯s Fire carefully.

    Standing on top of the ruined walls was Edwyn, alongside the other ranged fighters: casters, archers, bards and rogues. They cast down runes, arrows, and magic on the teeming horde below. Their aid proved invaluable for the ease they gave the spear-walls for a few moments of breath amidst the carnage.

    Autumn held her Alchemist¡¯s Fire high and waited for the prime opportunity. Too soon and she¡¯d catch her own in the conflagration, too late, and she¡¯d spend 15 gold on a glorified campfire. She waited a beat until a cluster of zombies approached. With a heave, she chucked it hard. It spiraled end over end until it cracked off a zombie¡¯s head and splashed unquenchable fire.

    The smell was horrendous.

    Autumn gagged.

    It took two more hours of fighting before the horde fell once more. Autumn¡¯s arms shook with exhaustion as she released a bone-white grip on the spear she¡¯d borrowed, its end coated in tainted gore. Sucking in a deep breath of befouled air, she staggered over to the ruined wall and slid down it, drawing her knees to her chest.

    In the quiet dead of night, she wept and wished she was home.

 Chapter Fifty: Into the Restless Mire

    The blazing dawn shed burning light down upon a befouled world. Bodies of rot and decay festered under the heat and a nauseating aroma of death clogged the air. They filled the breaches in the crumbling ruins like a wall of their own creeping imagination. Outside the walls, alchemical fires still smoldered, adding a stench of cooking meats to the already tumultuous atmosphere.

    Guardsmen and adventurers alike roamed over the battlefield with spear and halberd like grave-keepers. Anything that twitched with unlife was swiftly rendered to be simply dead.

    Rain came down unabated by the carnage below. Streams of gore washed away like a noxious river in the downpour, staining the mire further.

    Through the night¡¯s chill and icy rain cut the hot rays, weaving its way to alight upon the cheek of a slumbering witch. She lay against the crumbling wall she¡¯d collapsed against in her exhaustion. One arm lay bound around a gore-marked spear as it pointed heavenward where a makeshift tent of hempen rope and leather rain-cloaks hung protectively. Nearby, a fire burned, throwing out a warmth that sought to drive away the dampness in her clothes, imparted by an uncaring deluge.

    It was to this that Autumn awoke.

    A groan tore through her throat as she shielded her eyes from the morning¡¯s glow. She looked about the camp tiredly. Around her huddled the rest of her party beneath the covering of the cloaks, some already rising with the sun.

    Autumn¡¯s body was once again aching; her arms felt like lead weights were dragging them to the earth while her back popped like a series of firecrackers thanks in kind to her bad sleeping posture. Yelping, she massaged her back as she stretched and let out another tired groan. That wasn¡¯t all of her early morning problems as she stunk something awful. Death and rancid flesh clung to Autumn¡¯s clothes and hands despite the heavy work the rains had done. The smell of it sent her reeling.

    Gagging, Autumn scrambled for her tome.

    One spell she¡¯d been practicing in her spare time was a cleaning spell named Dirt Dismay. Before now, Autumn had been willing to tough-out the stink of travel as she had more powerful combative options to learn, but with zombie guts assaulting her senses, she regretted that decision.

    Autumn found the spell page within the now dirty tome. It took a few tries to memorize it properly and cast, but when she did, it stripped the grime from her body in a shiver of icy fear. The dense ball of black ichor hung in the air before Autumn¡¯s wand, smelling like a collection of the foulest evil. It was the worst smell she¡¯d ever had the displeasure of encountering.

    Eager to be rid of it, she cast it out into the mire beyond the walls.

    Autumn only had a few moments to luxuriate in her cleanliness before a subtle cough interrupted her. Looking at the sound, she saw a gore-smeared and bedraggled Nethlia staring at her with wide, begging eyes like a puppy. Behind her, the rest of the party had similar looks of desperation.

    Butterflies rioted in her stomach.

    Sighing, Autumn flicked her wand with fear and cleaned the party of their befouled nature. She¡¯d never admit out-loud just how effective puppy dog eyes were on her, but she feared the party could properly guess and likely would exploit it. Not in any mean way, she hoped, but already Liddie had coerced her into buying an ungodly amount of booze, so who knows?

    ¡°Here.¡± Pyre held out a series of small green tinctures towards Autumn and the rest.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°A small dose of Stamina Potion, just enough to wake you up.¡±

    Autumn took the green tincture and swallowed it in a single gulp. The flavor of lime and caffeine lingered on her tongue as a shock coursed through her body as if she¡¯d licked a battery. Instantly, Autumn was wide awake.

    ¡°Woah!¡±

    ¡°Good, isn¡¯t it?¡± Liddie grinned as she pounded hers back like a shot.

    Pyre gave her a side eye of annoyance mixed with concern.

    ¡°Be sure to consume enough water and include some salty foods in your diet. The potion speeds up your body a little rather than replacing anything, so you¡¯ll get hungry sooner.¡±

    ¡°Yes, boss!¡± Liddie chirped.

    ¡°I¡¯m serious! If you take too much Stamina Potion, your heart can beat itself to failure.¡±

    ¡°Scary~¡±

    Nethlia huffed. ¡°Leave her Pyre, she¡¯s just winding you up.¡±

    ¡°Hehe~ Caught me!¡±

    Ignoring Liddie¡¯s antics, the rest of the party packed up the little gear they had and doused the warm fire. Autumn retrieved her leather rain-cloak and draped it over herself, snuggling under the added layer of protection. Grabbing her canvas backpack, she went through it one more time, not wanting to leave anything behind. Apart from her rations and basic equipment, she only had spare clothes, a mess and sewing kit, and her valuable map.

    After binding her 50ft of rope to the side, Autumn gathered with the rest of the party. Just packing up wasn¡¯t the only task before them this morning: the mountain wall of corpses needed to be cleared if they wanted to leave and the fallen had to be sent off.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    The smell of baking corpses was utterly rank. Autumn hastily unwound her bronze-colored sash from around her waist to use as a face mask. Her hands once more got filth-coated as she helped clear out the bodies. Behind them, the pair of clerics turned the dead into naught but ash with a holy sanctifying light, scattering the mounds of ash out over the bog and nurturing the earth once more.

    Sifting the ashen remains, they recovered a vast quantity of arms and armor. Unfortunately, time and the mire had completely degraded them to the point they were worthless. Not even the metals worth anything now in their ruined state.

    However, there was a single piece of enchanted armor that had survived the ravages of time. While it was mostly destroyed, its historical value remained intact, seeing as it was from the empire''s initial rule. Thus, it would be worth some amount of gold to the right people in the noble or merchant circles.

    In terms of raw coinage, they found roughly 80g worth of soldier¡¯s pay in old coins.

    With everything packed and sorted, they turned their attention to the fallen.

    The clerics held a solemn vigil in the name of the Goddess Netix, the divinity of honor and battle. They held a prayer for Harold and the four other guardsmen who¡¯d fallen to the toxic claws and hungry jaws of the ghouls. Death shrouds wrapped around the shredded bodies that those foul, tainted undead had eaten away. Holy light split the dark clouds to bless the dead and ward off the corrupting influence of undeath that stained the world.

    Into the boats they lay the bodies, and the ferrymen bore the fallen out into the waters, back to Bogward.

    Autumn shouldered her pack and followed behind Nethlia as they made their way out into the mire.

    A flat expanse of waterlogged reeds and grasses stretched out to the horizon where dense groves stood tall. It didn¡¯t take all that long before Autumn¡¯s clean robes got soiled once more. Holding her pack out of the murky waters, Autumn huffed as she trudged through as it crested her chest. Muddy water seeped into her boots and stuck between her toes in an unpleasant sensation.

    Even with a guide to show them the way, the mire was still an incredibly difficult terrain.

    Edwyn was having an even worse time than Autumn, as the shorter mage had to be carried through the deeper sections lest they drown.

    The adventurers lead the way in front of the trailing Duskguard.

    The Dusk Wolves took the center with The Wise Cavaliers. To their left at a distance strode the broad figures of The Nemesis Crew and the slinking ones of the Red Scorpions while to their right was Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule. Occasionally, Autumn would send off a magical message or receive one to keep the groups together and at pace.

    Time itself was caught in the bog; hours crawled by them as they dragged a path through the murky waters.

    Now in the mire proper, Autumn couldn¡¯t relax, her powers were far too impactful to let her attention waver. It did make her grow more irritable and tense as the day passed. To be fair the mire was having that effect on everyone. A quietness enveloped the journey broken only by the melodies of the mire.

    Despite their vigilance, nothing truly impeded their journey. A few larger than normal spiders had tried to ambush them, but Autumn saw them clearly beforehand.

    Fire worked especially well in clearing that particular obstacle.

    Under the beat of a noon-time sun, the expedition finally broke into the tree-line on the far side of the expanse and took a quick break. The grove they¡¯d found was a mess of willowing, hooked trees grasping ever upwards to shade a series of shallow ponds. Fish swam within the waters as prey to the myriad of colorful birds clamoring in the boughs, drowning the air with songful calls.

    Edwyn grunted in pain as they sat down beside Autumn. Their wounds had yet to fully heal, even under the influence of the Minor Healing Potion.

    Autumn observed them as she ate her lunch of dried meat and mushrooms.

    For a while now, she¡¯d wondered about the level of iron production this world possessed. It seemed inconsistent. Most people she¡¯d met wore armors of hide, silk, and bone or horn. She¡¯d even seen chitin armors in Bogward. Metal armor was rare, aside from an underlayer of chainmail that the better provisioned knights and soldiers wore.

    Edwyn was the sole exception; their arms and armor being steel.

    So, with curiosity and boredom burning her, she sought out answers.

    ¡°Excuse me Edwyn, Umm, do you know much about metals?¡±

    Edwyn cocked a bushy eyebrow at her.

    ¡°Ay. Whit are ye wantin tae know?¡±

    ¡°W-well. I was just wondering if you knew much about the state of iron. I heard that the prices of iron were going up, and it got me thinking about why everyone uses bone armors. Surely metal armors would be better? Even if it¡¯s just bronze or something.¡±

    Edwyn hummed as they contemplated her question.

    ¡°Do yer know much about the Demonlands?¡±

    Autumn shook her head.

    ¡°Not much. I¡¯m not from here¡­I¡¯ve traveled from far away.¡±

    ¡°Firstly, ye need tae understand some geography. Privanoya, that¡¯s the actual name of the Demonlands continent, is cut in half by an inland sea and a massive mountain range. We are in the north, which Inferni control alongside their allies in the Lepus. The south is dominated by the Letorum Divine Empire, a human centric nation, and a few Umbra elven nations. There are a few other species in the middle, such as the Felis, Vipera, Noctua, and Manus clans.¡±

    ¡°The Ironspine Mountains are the only major source of iron and other precious metals on the entire continent. Currently, the Iron-blood Clan holds the vast majority of the mines in the deep roads and keeps firm control over the sales of metal and who they sell tae.¡±

    Edwyn patted their steel mace.

    ¡°Good luck buyin¡¯ anythin¡¯ nowadays. Wit¡¯ a war on the horizon the prices will be ridiculous.¡±

    ¡°What about other mines? Surely there should be at least a few smaller mines.¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Sure there are, but they aw likely suffered ¡®accidents¡¯ or went out of business. Don¡¯t underestimate the lengths the Iron-bloods will gae tae in order tae remain in control.¡±

    Autumn blinked, taken aback. Dancing her fingers across her iron knife¡¯s handle, she thought. Her knife had proven to be effective against the foul fae they¡¯d come across, but it was fire-worked iron, not cold-iron. If they came across a true fae, it¡¯d be far less effective.

    If she were to encounter them again, which seemed probable if the only way home was through the Feywild, she would want her party fully equipped with cold-iron or an equally effective alternative. However, if prices were going to be climbing, she didn¡¯t know if she could afford it, even with the expected income from this mission. Not to even mention trying to get it enchanted.

    It was something to think about, at the very least.

    She wanted to be ready for whatever came next.

 Chapter Fifty-One: A Bansheeâ€™s Lament

    Dark was the swamp beneath the grasp of clawing trees, only lit by low-burning fires and the occasional glimpse of the twin moons. Frogs howled and croaked in a nocturnal ambiance. All around the camp loomed hunting shadows and hungry eyes that may have encroached on them, if not for the watchful eyes of an on-guard witch.

    Autumn stretched her jaw in a cracking yawn as she kept watch. She¡¯d been up for a few hours by now, having the misfortune of taking a midnight watch.

    She was exhausted. Throughout the rest of the day, they¡¯d marched through the dense, interwoven trees and through pools of stagnant water. Some of the water had plunged away from under her feet, leaving her to swim across. It¡¯d been hard work and even harder for those bearing armor.

    When the sun finally dipped low they¡¯d made camp upon an old ruin sat upon a rare oasis of solid ground. Vines and creepers had burrowed between stones and brought down the old temple; all that was left were moss-coated walls and a platform of worked stone.

    Autumn had searched it in anticipation of treasure, but all she found was old bones and rusted trinkets.

    Luckily, her disappointment was short as Nethlia cooked up a wonderful hot meal despite the lack of supplies. It was easy enough to capture a net¡¯s worth of fresh fish from the swamp waters and with a healthy dose of spices and dried mushrooms; she had a fairly decent stew going. Autumn cherished the luxury while it lasted. From tomorrow onwards, they¡¯d be too near the goblin camp to risk lighting a fire.

    So it was with a belly full of food, Autumn kept watch.

    Autumn¡¯s breath misted as a sudden chill crept upon her without warning. Rime-frost crept and cracked upon the water¡¯s edge until the pools froze over like a great glass mirror. A billowing icy mist floated across its surface, plunging Autumn into a world of her own. With a curious push, Autumn peered into the reflecting pool and saw her own reflection gazing up at her.

    A tired swamp-worn witch was what she saw, huddled in an overflowing robe and a hat far too heavy for her head. Limp black hair draped down a green-bruised face and shielded a pair of black-ringed eyes from the glare of its counterpart. Autumn soothed her expression as she realized she was glaring at herself. The other Autumn did the same, giving her a gentler, kinder air.

    With Autumn¡¯s curiosity satisfied, she began to shift her attention away from the pool, only to have the reflection blink without her consent. Her burning gaze snapped back to the reflection. As if it was just her imagination, nothing strange appeared in that frozen glass. She lent closer, staring unblinkingly.

    Time crawled by as Autumn gazed at herself in a Narcissus-like moment. Her eyes grew watery, compelling her to blink. When she opened them again, it wasn¡¯t her face that gazed up, but another.

    A hauntingly beautiful visage peered mournfully out of the glassy surface. Features of elven femininity adorned the deathly pale face while hair of silk floated freely about her, a halo in the water¡¯s grasp. Cold blue eyes froze Autumn in place as her heart stalled. The elf rose from the glass prison to float above the surface in a translucent glow. A ragged and wet silken dress clung tightly to the elf¡¯s slender, womanly frame. Where one¡¯s heart should lie was instead a hole ripped in both the dress and ghost; only creeping dread and sorrow remained in the gaping cavity.

    As the banshee hovered over the lake on bloody feet, Autumn got the faintest whiff of fae about her.

    Autumn¡¯s body was robbed of breath, of heartbeat, and warmth. She didn¡¯t dare to move under the piercing gaze of the fairy ghost. Sweat and trauma coated her shivering body as she lay before one of her hated foes, like a mouse under the paw of a lion.

    Yet it was the banshee who spoke first.

    ¡°Thou didst not heed mine own warnings, death follows thee anon with ranker clarity.¡±

    The banshee looked at Autumn with a mix of longing and disappointment. Her ethereal lamentation hauntingly drifted into Autumn''s ears, sending a chilling sensation down to her very heart¡¯s core. Autumn couldn¡¯t help but lick her cracked and frozen lips before croaking out a reply.

    ¡°W-warning? I-I didn¡¯t hear y-your warning. Wh-who are you? What d-do you want? If you¡¯re here to kill me you¡¯ll find I¡¯m n-not an easy pill to swallow!¡±

    ¡°Calm death-touch''d one, I am not hither to fear thee or to claim thy living. Didst thee not heareth mine own song? I did becry a warning for thee and thy boon-companions both while the undeath did creep. I¡¯d beest over-wrought if it be true.¡±

    A sole ghostly tear crested the ghost¡¯s cheek, lamentation in essence. Whereas all the other fae Autumn had the misfortune of meeting before were of the summer, both fair and foul, the fae before her now was grief made manifest.

    Even with her cold-iron horseshoe clutched tight, she felt vulnerable beneath its wailing gaze.

    ¡°Was that wail you? It deafened me rather than warned me. A-and what do you mean by death-touched?¡±

    That sounded like something she should be concerned about.

    ¡°I did hurt thee so? Twasn''t mine own intent to coil thee so, only to warn.

    ¡°Thou art death-touch¡¯d; thy form beest drench''d in the waters of the after. Tis a heady scent. Fear of those unlife who is''t seek¡¯th to claim thee, they shalt only seek the Styx¡¯s boons for thineselves, uncaring of thy own virtues. Thou shouldst not trust even I for thee smelleth rapturous to mine own designs.¡±

    A covetous expression washed away the guise of life, revealing the skeletal rot beneath. It lasted only a moment before the elven beauty was restored, but it felt as if someone had poured ice into Autumn¡¯s veins.

    ¡°Alas, death itself hast claim''d a debt of thee.¡±

    Autumn swallowed, her nerves on fire beneath the icy stare. Despite being within earshot of her sleeping companions, she felt totally alone.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°The Styx¡¯s Boons, what does that mean?¡±

    ¡°I has''t nary a clue as to what it entails for I wish not to couch in yond river of nothing; the ordinary of the living still draws me hence.¡±

    Sweat like knives ran down Autumn¡¯s back, sourcing her back with their icy chill. For her this was the first time she¡¯d conversed somewhat reciprocally with a fae and there were things she wanted, nay, needed to know.

    ¡°Tell me¡­Is there a way home-to my home in the Feywild! I need to know!¡±

    The banshee observed Autumn¡¯s desperation with a fond, desperation-stained mein. A smile drowned with tears warped across her face as she spoke.

    ¡°I knoweth a way to beest sure, but what useth is''t to bid thee; you¡¯ll never maketh it. The summer court rules and shalt tear thee asunder beneath wild hooves.¡±

    ¡°What way! Tell me!¡± Autumn grew desperate as hope kindled in her bosom.

    ¡°Perhaps I shalt, but first a deal between us we wilt consummate.¡±

    The fae drifted closer to Autumn in a languid, somber affair, but a flicker of slain rage burned in her ghostly eyes. It set Autumn¡¯s nerves to a fluttering, teetering edge. By now she was well aware of the oddities abound; the world around her was deathly still and not even her rising voice had awoken her companions, slumbering not more than a hand¡¯s width away.

    Autumn gulped.

    ¡°W-what deal? I-If you think I¡¯m making a deal with a fae, t-then you''re vastly mistaken.¡±

    The banshee gazed unhappily at Autumn.

    ¡°U-umm, what do you want?¡±

    ¡°I wanteth what all the dead wanteth: peace. Once, a most wondrous span of seasons ago, so long yond I¡¯ve gazed upon entire races rise and falleth, I wast a most wise and powerful fae of the Autumn Court.

    ¡°We art the most belov''d of the courts by both mortals and divinity alike. Autumn is not as passionate as summer n''r as pragmatic as winter; tis the bounty and hospitality we giveth. But maketh nay misprision, we art the night of fright too; yond which jowls in the night.

    ¡°A lowly mortal fopped me most foul into offering mine own heart; far too fancied, yond did I agree. They did pluck¡¯th from mine own chest a beating heart and curs''d me into the undeath thee ere see. Mine own deal with thee is thusly: emboss mine own foe and sendeth those folk to a most cunning and absolute of graves, ner to returneth forevermore. In returneth, I¡¯ll aid thee in thy quest to returneth to whence thee wish to beest.¡±

    The banshee gazed gravely and expectantly at Autumn. Hope was a foreign concept to such a shunned creature, but a light of it flickered in mockery in her core.

    Autumn¡¯s own heart beat a loud rhythm in her ears as took in the bargain before her, but she¡¯d not fall for the temptation. The young witch drew herself up and quelled her nervous hands. There was much to clarify before they could strike a pact.

    ¡°Who killed and cursed you?¡±

    ¡°A foulness known to thee as a swamp-hag. Many names they knoweth the creature by; the one creature lays claim to is Mildred, the Finger-Eater.¡±

    The banshee grew wrathful and the air froze before her. Autumn shivered despite herself and only half from the cold.

    ¡°And you want me to kill her?¡±

    ¡°Cunningly and absolutely so yond she¡¯ll ner returneth.¡±

    ¡°Is she powerful?¡±

    ¡°...very.¡± The banshee almost hissed.

    ¡°Where does she live?¡±

    The banshee grinned a skull-white grin. ¡°Here in this very mire; the beast mocks me with her presence.¡±

    ¡°And what exactly is it that you¡¯re offering for this deed?¡±

    An icy wind caressed Autumn¡¯s cheek as the banshee narrowed her eyes.

    ¡°Everything, I giveth thee.

    ¡°Thou wish¡¯th to returneth home, aye? through the feywild? Well, thither art only three ways into the lands of the eternal seasons. The first, only a fae may travel the winding cords of the passageways into the feywild or hold a fae¡¯s heart in thy hands. I shall giveth thee mine own still beating heart as a reward for vanquishing mine own foe. A fair trade, aye?¡±

    ¡°What are the other ways?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡± The banshee¡¯s eyes flashed with anger, but Autumn held the cooling gaze with steel of her own. In the end, the banshee relented reluctantly.

    ¡°The second is through the river Styx. The river travels through all realms, so it¡¯s possible to traverse its waterways into whichev''r realm thee care, but only the ferryman¡¯s cautel can doth so safely, and I don¡¯t needeth to bid thee of the cost.

    ¡°The third is via charm, a powerful spell yond the Finger-Eater just so happeneth to hold.¡±

    The banshee grinned terribly at her ploy. Two of Autumn¡¯s solutions involve dealing with the hag, so even if she didn¡¯t take the ghostly fae¡¯s deal, she¡¯d likely kill the hag anyway.

    Autumn didn¡¯t need to ask the fae if she¡¯d keep to her deal. By now, she¡¯d learned enough about how binding these sorts of pacts were and the consequences of breaking them. She was only worried about the things she might miss and the things omitted. It was evident to her she had no option but to accept, as the banshee had ambushed her alongside her vulnerable companions. The banshee¡¯s wail had deafened her before; at this distance it¡¯d likely just kill her outright.

    The banshee watched her with a hungry gaze.

    ¡°What is your name?¡± Autumn asked.

    An amused and annoyed look was born and died upon the ghostly face.

    ¡°A clev''r dram witch thou art, but I knoweth not. Stolen wast mine own name by the hag. Killeth yond hag and claim it for thineself.¡±

    Autumn breathed a sigh out to calm herself. No other question rattled about in her mind, yet she knew she was missing something. That¡¯s how these deals aways go right? But what choice did she have?

    ¡°A pact spoken: I, Witch Autumn, shall kill the hag Mildred, the Finger-Eater, so thoroughly and completely that she shall never rise again. You, nameless banshee, once fae of the Autumn Court, shall in return offer me up your heart, name, and guidance for all of entirety and a day. Shall we agree?¡±

    The hauntingly beautiful fae banshee grinned.

    ¡°Thou art named Autumn? How humorous and fated art we? I concur with thy terms.¡±

    As Autumn¡¯s first pact resonated in the fabric weave of magic and existence the oaken amulet rose from her pocket. It expanded into a orb of weaved together branches like a cage and the pact emblazoned itself upon it. The banshee cocked her head at the magical item.

    ¡°A soul-cage? How quaint. Very well I shalt maketh myself at home within.¡±

    The ghostly fae drifted in the swirls of magic into the soul-cage now known to Autumn. Slowly, the glow faded, and it fell into Autumn¡¯s palm. The seemingly ordinary amulet now burned with an icy touch, and as she strung it around her neck to rest between her breasts, Autumn swore she could hear the banshee let out a restful sigh at the sound of her heartbeat.

    Autumn stared out over the frozen pond before letting out a long sigh.

    ¡°Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck me.¡±

    Reaching over to companion, Autumn woke Nethlia up for her watch. The berserker¡¯s eyes instantly snapped open and took in the sweat-drenched witch. Alarmed, she quickly sat up.

    ¡°Trouble?¡±

    Autumn stared into the bright orange eyes a beat before laying her head in Nethlia¡¯s lap with a hat full of enough fear to build a palace with.

    ¡°Yeah, but it can wait till morning. Goodnight.¡±

    Nethlia looked down at Autumn, confused. A short distance away, the frozen pond cracked.

 Chapter Fifty-Two: Best Laid Plans

    ¡°Wait, wait, wait, let me get this straight. While we were all sleeping, a banshee, as in a wailing ghost, just turned up at our camp and you made a deal with it?!¡± Nethlia asked incredulously.

    Autumn sighed. ¡°As I¡¯ve said the last three times, yes, I made a deal with the ghost or else we¡¯d all be dead.¡±

    Upon her waking with the golden light of dawn, Autumn had informed her party of their late night ghostly visitation. Although she informed them about the hag in the mire, she kept the specifics of her pact to herself and the whereabouts of the banshee now. She felt it¡¯d just bring up awkward questions she¡¯d rather not answer, such as where she got the soul cage.

    They were understandably shocked.

    ¡°So, you¡¯re telling us that not only do we need to clear out a goblin encampment, that we still don¡¯t know the side of, but a swamp-hag as well? Don¡¯t you know how dangerous they are?! That¡¯s a gold-rank threat level. Hells, maybe even higher!¡±

    Liddie shook her head rapidly. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t even consider going after it!¡±

    Autumn shifted awkwardly in place as Liddie spoke.

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to help me, but I have to see this through. I made a pact with the banshee and there¡¯s no going back from that without consequences. At best I¡¯ll lose my magic, at worst my life.¡± And that was understating things, Autumn was acquainted with the cruelty of the fae.

    Who knows what grim fate awaited failure?

    While she¡¯d not defined a timeframe for her end of the deal, she¡¯d not take it lightly.

    ¡°Yet you won¡¯t even tell us what the deal is? Don¡¯t think I didn¡¯t notice. Can we even trust the information a banshee would give? They hate the living.¡± Liddie said as she stared distrustfully at Autumn.

    It wasn¡¯t like Autumn wanted to lie to them, but how well did she know these people?

    Did she trust them to guard her back in a fight? Absolutely, they¡¯d proven themselves in that regard. But in terms of her greater secrets? She didn¡¯t know. Would they kill her if they learned she was an outsider to this realm? That was a question she¡¯d not figured out yet. Until she could answer that, she¡¯d keep her cards close to her chest.

    As the pair glared at one another, Nethlia strode between them.

    ¡°Enough! If Autumn doesn¡¯t want to share the details, that¡¯s her business. What we need to discuss is what we are going to do about it.¡± Nethlia turned to Autumn. ¡°Is there anything else the banshee told you, anything about this hag or the goblins?¡±

    ¡°She said the hag was called Mildred, the Finger-Eater, but she didn¡¯t know where exactly the hag was, only that she was in the mire nearby. She said nothing about the goblins.¡±

    Nethlia rubbed her chin in thought. ¡°Has anyone heard of this ¡®Mildred¡¯ before?¡±

    The rest of the party shook their heads negatively. It wasn¡¯t that surprising as none of them frequented this area. Likely the elders of Bogward would know, but it was far too late to turn back.

    ¡°Any hag, known or not, is a blight upon all things right and true. It¡¯d be a boon upon the world to rid it of this evil.¡± Nelva said righteously.

    ¡°Pff. Say that when the hag is making a necklace of your intestines!¡± Liddie replied.

    ¡°What dae we aim tae gain, besides riddin the world of a pest an completin the deal?¡± Edwyn asked and all eyes turned to Autumn.

    Autumn bit her lips in hesitation.

    ¡°The banshee said that the hag has some expensive and powerful magic items in her lair that we could have once we kill her.¡±

    Liddie blinked before grinning in avarice, all her earlier caution cast to the winds. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you lead with that?!¡±

    Autumn glared at the pirate. ¡°Is loot all you think about?¡±

    ¡°Nope. I think about sex and booze, neither of which is abundant in a swamp. Oh, I get it now. The banshee promised you something magical the hag has. That¡¯s why you didn¡¯t tell us about any loot.¡±

    Autumn flushed. ¡°No! I didn¡¯t tell you because I wasn¡¯t certain about what it was even! I didn¡¯t want to give false information.¡±

    ¡°Surrre~¡± Liddie drawled.

    ¡°I said enough!¡± Nethlia barked. ¡°We can deal with this after we deal with the goblins. Everyone, pack up camp while I inform the other captains about this hag. No fighting. Any of you.¡±

    As Nethlia strode off, the rest of the party hurried about to pack up their meager supplies. A terse silence occupied the group as odd looks shot back and forth. Before long, the ruins they¡¯d claimed as rest now lay bare with nary a sign of passage, the embers of the fire doused in the swamp waters.

    The mire was as trudging and tangled as the day before. Stagnant waters lay clogged with rotten filth underneath the shade of the twisting trees while high above the dark skies unleashed their constant deluge. The hidden sun had a hard time finding the adventurers and guards as they pressed their way through the groves, accompanied by the ever-present buzz of insects.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Halfway through the day¡¯s journey, an obstacle forced them to divert from their guide¡¯s intended path. In the past few days, this section of the mire had become impassable under the rigors of nature and rain. A new sinkhole now yawned in front of them, guzzling the mud and water.

    ¡°Is this unusual?¡± Captain Ekrus asked their guide.

    Malthor looked up from where he was gazing into the deep abyss. ¡°It¡¯s strange, but not unusual. Under the mire runs the Underwoods, a series of twisting caverns and tunnels carved by the rains and trees. Sometimes things just slip into it. We¡¯ll have to take a detour that I know, but I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s occupied.¡±

    ¡°Occupied?¡±

    ¡°Hmm.¡± Malthor hummed. ¡°It¡¯s a tunnel of trees that is a favorite of all kinds of denizens.¡±

    As Autumn was listening she felt a tug on her sleeve. Looking over she saw a nervous looking Pyre holding a pot of slightly familiar looking healing cream.

    ¡°Hey, um Autumn? How-how are your injuries? I made some healing cream from your recipes in my downtime. It didn¡¯t turn out as powerful as the sample you gave me, but it still possesses some healing properties. I¡¯ve already given some to Edwyn.¡±

    Autumn rolled her wrist and winced at the twinge of pain, but that was all. She was astounded at the effectiveness of even a so-called ¡®minor¡¯ Healing Potion. What would have taken weeks of recuperation was done in days. If she found a way home, she was definitely taking as much of it with her as she could; it¡¯d be revolutionary even if just to study the effects.

    ¡°My wrist hurts just a little. There''s just some bruising left on my eye-socket and ribs, but they''re mostly healed. Could you apply some to my wrist? It¡¯s kind of hard to do it with my fingers the way they are.¡±

    Pyre started. ¡°Oh, sure!¡±

    The cooling balm graced Autumn¡¯s wrist. Immediately she could tell the difference; there wasn¡¯t that trace of calming joy within. However, it was still magical and would heal her all the same.

    Autumn smiled at Pyre in thanks.

    It didn¡¯t take all that long to get to their detour point, an hour at most, even with the rough terrain.

    A grand arboreal tunnel stretched out before them like an enormous hall where the thick trees stood in place of towering pillars, holding up a twisted ceiling of boughs and leaves. The cavernous structure echoed with the screeching of hundred-thousand bats as they fluttered between vine-coated trees and dodged around spiderwebs of gigantic proportions. In the distance the dull light of an overcast sky broke into the dark demesne, showing them the way out.

    However, it was clear that this strange lair was occupied as was alluded to earlier as decorating the entrance was a vast array of animal bones, chewed and broken.

    ¡°Hmm. This might be a problem.¡± Malthor said as he touched the bones. ¡°This is a warning or territory marker. Whatever left it is clearly intelligent, or at least semi-intelligent. I doubt it¡¯ll be best pleased to see us trespassing, so we¡¯d best step lightly.¡±

    The adventurers all turned to look at the clanking horde of guards and their blustering captain.

    ¡°Not likely to happen.¡± Nethlia huffed. ¡°I¡¯d recommend that the rogues lead the way.¡±

    Ekrus turned to Captain Xiltuil. ¡°Do you mind taking the lead? Scout ahead with your Red Scorpions and see what we¡¯re dealing with?¡±

    The Umbra elf nodded before disappearing alongside his party into the gloomy tunnel.

    After giving them a few moments to scout ahead, the rest of the adventurers picked their way into the tunnel after them, the clanking Duskguards trailing behind. Underfoot the roots weaved together into a lattice that served as ample footing in the otherwise flooded grounds.

    Pyre decided to take advantage of the moment and harvested a few pots of ingredients from the masses of crystallized bat guano that dotted the floor. Autumn hoped they wouldn¡¯t go into any potions they¡¯d drink. Although her memory was fuzzy about it, she recalled that the excrement was an excellent fertilizer and people had once used it in the production of gunpowder and explosives.

    Perhaps the alchemist was making gunpowder bombs?

    A worrying thought.

    After only a half hour of walking, Captain Xiltuil returned to report.

    ¡°The tunnel is relatively clear to about halfway aside from a few giant spiders laying in ambush, easy enough to avoid. However, in the middle of the tunnel there is a troll lair.¡±

    ¡°Shit, just our luck!¡± Captain Ekrus swore. ¡°Did you get a good look at it? Any clue as to its type or temperament?¡±

    Captain Xiltuil shook his head. ¡°No, we couldn¡¯t get too close. It looked¡­aware, I think it already knows we¡¯re here. For as dumb as they are, they can be rather cunning and observant when they want to be.¡±

    All the adventurer captains looked pensive at the information. Autumn hadn¡¯t a clue what kind of troll they were talking about; there were so many different types in Earthen literature that it was hard to keep track.

    ¡°You think we can sneak past it?¡± Captain Gilralei asked. ¡°Or can we negotiate with it?¡±

    Captain Xiltuil smirked behind his facemask. ¡°I highly doubt we can sneak past an awake troll with that lot.¡±

    As if to emphasize his point, Captain Morlech blundered his way up towards them making enough noise to wake the dead. The overweight captain was red in the face despite his teal skin-tone. He¡¯d not been having a good time marching through the swamps; already his belt was much looser than before.

    ¡°What¡¯s all this holding up for?! Why are we stopping?! If this is another one of your damn adventurer¡¯s ploys!¡±

    The Duskguard captain¡¯s bluster was met with cold, hard stares of the gathered adventurers. More than one was thinking of ¡®losing¡¯ him in the swamps before they made it home.

    Being the most level-headed of the gathered captains, Captain Arsit addressed the pudgy captain.

    ¡°There¡¯s a troll lair up ahead, it¡¯s proving an obstacle with some of the expedition¡¯s ¡®abilities¡¯.¡±

    ¡°A troll?!!¡± Captain Morlech squealed in anger. ¡°And we''re wasting our time discussing it like a bunch of old maids?! Just kill the hells-damned thing and get on with it!!¡±

    Captain Arsit turned on the captain with a look of cold contempt. ¡°Have you ever seen a troll in your life?¡±

    Huffing in embarrassed anger, Captain Morlech mustered his bravado. ¡°Those savages?! What noble Duskgaurd captain hasn¡¯t. I¡¯m surprised your lot could even recognize one.¡±

    Unbothered by his false courage, Captain Arist continued. ¡°Then you should know that they have the strength to toss a boulder with enough force to shatter a city gate. You should also know that their jaws can crush bones and bend metal, and that they delight in feasting on fatty flesh.¡±

    Captain Arist smiled as sweat beaded heavily on the other captain¡¯s oily skin.

    ¡°And you should also know that the best way to deal with them is to either cast them into sunlight.¡± He gestured to the near pitch darkness of the cavern-like tunnel. ¡°Or negotiate with them.¡±

    ¡°So, keep your trap shut so we might get past it without provoking its ire.¡±

    The guard captain looked like an overripe tomato as he glared at the gathered captains and adventurers.

    ¡°You¡¯ll regret talking to me that way!!¡±

    Captain Arist smiled. ¡°I¡¯m sure I will. Now, how about we go meet our lovely, soon-to-be acquaintance?¡±

 Chapter Fifty-Three: The Honorable Lord Grungee

    As it turns out, trolls in this world were neither the smaller troll-folk who stand just shy of man, nor the more human-looking type of old Christianity. Instead, they were of Jotun¨Cof giant¡¯s blood.

    Sat upon a great dais of stone inside a gloomy cavern lit only by their lantern lights was a creature far greater than any man. Even sitting, it towered over them many times. Dense muscles rippled across its body beneath a thick gut of fat. A pair of massive, bulging arms covered in wiry hair and stony skin gripped the throne as it watched them approach with dark, beady eyes. Adorning its stony face was a nose of titanic proportions resting above a man-eating mouth of cracked, yellowed teeth set in a thick, square jaw.

    A crown of bones and moss sat upon a head of thick, braided hair that ringed it like a mane to merge with a long and messy beard interwoven with skulls, moss, and trophies. The troll''s club, a calcified tree, rested against the stone throne next to its enormous hand that resembled a battering ram.

    Bones and broken armor lay in offering beside the troll¡¯s throne, piled up with great care. Gold glinted through the broken pottery and crumbling statues.

    The adventurers and guards stood in audience before the troll as it gazed down upon them, its tiny dark orbs flickering between them in curiosity and wariness. Before they could speak a great rumble emerged from its yellowed mouth alongside the smell of rancid meat.

    ¡°Trolls call me harvest-bane, eater of swamps and devourer of mires, the great gullet and blood of moons! I am Lord Grungee, the most honorable! You have trespassed into my domain, but are wise enough to give me the grace I deserve! Speak and make no lies!¡±

    The troll¡¯s voice was an earthquake that rocked through Autumn''s body and mind.

    Undeterred, the adventurer captains strode forwards to meet with Lord Grungee. Captain Arsit gave a well-practiced bow that the other captains followed with varying degrees of reluctance and skill. After straightening from his royal bow, he was the first to talk.

    ¡°O great and honorable Lord Grungee, we are but noble adventurers out to slay foul enemies of yours and seek passage through your lands to do so. We harbor no offense towards your name or personage.¡±

    Lord Grungee leaned forwards in his stone seat which cracked under his immense weight. A gleam of interest and sly intent flashed through the troll¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Enemies o¡¯ mine you say?! Who?! Speak plain for Lord Grungee holds no equals!!¡±

    Captain Arsit feigned hesitation as if unsure before speaking like he was unveiling a grand secret. ¡°It is the goblins of the mire, my lord. They seek rebellion against your rule. In your name, we shall slay these foul betrayers and bring peace to your lands!¡±

    A myriad of expressions rolled over the troll¡¯s bulbous features: shock, anger, confusion, before settling on a vainglorious look. He seemed pleased by the declaration of vanquish over subjects he didn¡¯t recall having, but like all egoistic rulers, he didn¡¯t correct them to appear greater than he was. However, even with their crusade in his name, greed and hunger burned in his dark eyes.

    All this information flashed by Autumn¡¯s eyes in a single moment as she watched with eyes darkened by magic.

    ¡°Good!¡± He boomed. ¡°Haha! Good! Even so, a toll must be paid, for what¡¯s a troll if not that?! Haha!!¡±

    The cavern quaked with his booming laughter, but there was no humor in his eyes, only a malicious desire.

    ¡°And what is it that your lordship desires?¡± Captain Arsit asked calmly as he smiled and eyed the troll with an equal lack of humor.

    The troll licked his fat lips. ¡°I haven''t eaten in a half-day, far too long, and you have so many men behind you.¡±

    Voracious eyes roamed over the gathering. However, they stalled upon Autumn as she stood in the gloom. The hungry troll took in her tattered witch¡¯s hat and dark inky eyes. Almost imperceptibly, he hunched in on himself, shrinking away from her gaze before moving on and pretending she didn¡¯t exist. Autumn blinked, taken aback by the display of wary intelligence from the enormous troll.

    Perhaps he¡¯d met a witch before?

    Lord Grungee continued on. ¡°Spare a few for my lunch and you shall pass my lands unhindered.¡±

    Muscles tensed as adventurer hands gripped their weapons tightly in anticipation of sudden violence. A creeping grin of yellowed teeth spread across the troll¡¯s face as he gripped the calcified tree. The atmosphere boiled with tension.

    ¡°Yeah, that ain¡¯t happening¡ª¡± ¡°Wait a moment, my lord!¡±

    Gilralei¡¯s shout interrupted the impending confrontation and the elegant bard gave a showy bow to the startled troll.

    ¡°My lord, there is one thing we would give thee. On our way here, we slew a great and terrible beast: Die T?uschung. Our intention was to return it to our liege-lord, but for passage we shall grant a portion to thee. A greater prize you shall never see!¡±

    Gilralei signals to the other bards of her party. Nodding to her, they grabbed at a spot of empty air and mimed dragging a heavy beast towards the troll. If Autumn didn¡¯t know any better, she¡¯d have fallen for it; the bards were that skilled in mimicry. They grunted and groaned in sync as they dug their heels into the ground.

    Lord Gungee squinted at them, confused and suspicious. He sucked great gouts of air into his engorged nose.

    ¡°What beast?! I neither smell nor see it!! Are you mocking the honorable Lord Grungee?!!!¡±

    The cavern shook once more as he boomed. Gilralei maintained an atmosphere of servile ease as she danced with the movements of the roots.

    ¡°Certainly not!¡± She gasped as if offended. ¡°Die T?uschung is a beast of impossible invisibility. This predator is a master of camouflage, even in death!¡±

    Lord Grungee squinted at the area the bards had ¡®deposited¡¯ the so-called invisible beast.

    ¡°What of its smell?!!¡±

    ¡°Invisible too!¡± Gilralei grinned charmingly at the suspicious troll.

    A great heavy fist reached out to grab at the offering and passed through it. The roots below snapped under the impact, sending the adventurers stumbling once more. Lord Grungee frowned and stared angrily at the bard who remained unfussed but for a drop of sweat that rolled down her nape.

    ¡°It¡¯s invisible to touch, too! It¡¯s astounding, but its taste is unrivaled. We had a portion ourselves and it was the greatest meal of our puny lives. A much greater feast than a few scrawny adventurers or guards, for sure!¡±

    Around her the gathered bards gave looks of satisfied wistfulness of a wondrous meal. Their looks of rapturous satiated appetite had the troll licking his lips in an imagined feast of a great beast. His looks of disbelief turned into ones of avarice.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    Autumn admired the guts it took to bluff a beast that could eat her in a single bite.

    Lord Grungee grunted. ¡°I will take it all in tribute and you may pass through my lands!!¡±

    Gilralei shifted in place with a look of hesitation plastered on her furrowed brow. She appeared hesitant to leave behind the greatest meal of her life. The troll shifted possessively on his throne, a deep rumbling growl on his bared lips. Hastily, the bard bowed.

    ¡°You are as honorable as your name. We shall not disturb you further.¡± Gilralei bowed once more before quickly backing out of the chamber. ¡°Hurry now! Pick up the pace!¡±

    Following behind the rapid pace of the bard, the adventurers broke out of the troll¡¯s lair. As soon as they were out, they ran. Dense roots and trees passed by in a rush of movement. Ahead of them, the dim light of the covered sun shone in the entrance in a tantalizing display.

    Suddenly, the cavern was rocked by a deafening shout.

    ¡°Treachery!!!¡±

    While trolls were certainly stupid, they weren¡¯t that stupid.

    Autumn stumbled as the ground below her twisted. Glancing back, she watched in dread as the entrance to the troll¡¯s large exploded in a shower of splinters. Emerging into the darkness of the tunnel was Lord Grungee with eyes blazing with pure malevolent hatred. His stoney brow cracked as a bellow ripped free of his massive jaw that shook the caverns again, sending the thousands of bats bursting into the air in a cacophony of shrieks.

    On the troll came like a freight train with aggressive, pounding strides. And like a train it bellowed out a warning, but a constant roar instead of a long whistle.

    Autumn¡¯s heart fluttered in her chest as she pushed her limbs to their limit, around her the others did the same.

    Edwyn huffed as their shorter legs had to work twice as hard. ¡°I¡­aint..¡¯huff¡¯...built for running. We Manus are¡­more sprinters.¡±

    ¡°Shut up and run!¡± Nethlia bellowed as she kept pace with them, her longer legs could¡¯ve left them behind by now.

    The Duskguard trailed behind the adventurers, desperately running around the twisting roots as their arms and armor slowed them down. Captain Morlech was steadily falling behind, a look of pure fear plastered across his flushed face.

    A whistling sound cut through the clatter of armor and the earthquaking footfalls. Casting a glance over her shoulder, Autumn saw the troll¡¯s club sailing through the air, thrown at an incredible speed. The projectile scythed through the air before crashing down upon a guardsman, turning him to nothing but a red smear upon the roots.

    The roar of triumph spurred them to run faster.

    They wouldn¡¯t make it; the troll was too fast and the safety of sunlight was too far away.

    Autumn ripped her wand free of her sleeve and sent off a barrage of jinxes to slow the onrushing troll. Purple magic splashed harmlessly against the stony hide. Her magic found no purchase on the monstrosity¡¯s mind or body. A pair of beady eyes burned as they bore into the witch¡¯s back.

    ¡°Oh come on! Not again!¡±

    A hail of spellcraft followed behind Autumn¡¯s: runes that sprouted with entangling thorns, spells that detonated the air, arrows of light that pierced, and cutting magical songs. Yet it all was ineffectual. The troll ripped through the clinging vines, pushed through the burning ozone, and remained unscathed by the piercing and cutting spells.

    Despair lingered in the air as it grew closer.

    Autumn rushed past a pillar-like tree and a drastic plan hatched in her mind. Saving her breath and keeping her plan from the large ears of the troll, she sent off a whisper into Nethlia¡¯s mind.

    [We can¡¯t outrun it. I have a plan, and I need you to trust me for it to work.]

    Nethlia blazing eyes stared into Autumn¡¯s self-assured dark orbs. After a beat she nodded.

    [Alright, tell me what to do.]

    With a relieved smile on her lips, Autumn sent off a few more whispers to those around her to enact her plan.

    The troll was so much closer now, almost grasping at their heels.

    As they passed another tree pillar, Autumn ground to a halt and leveled her wand at the troll. The jinx crashed into the troll¡¯s eye. While harmless, it still triggered a natural reaction to flinch. The troll staggered before whipping its head around to glare at the witch standing stationary in defiance before it. At the sight of prey not fleeing before it, a bubbling anger blinded it and rushed headlong.

    Autumn''s heart pounded in time with the quaking. Just before it reached her, she leapt to the side, rolling out of reach of the long limbs and cracked fingernails. Unable to stop in time, the troll collided with a thunderous crash into the tree behind her.

    From above snapped branches crashed down and pinpricks of light fell upon the dark tunnel.

    As the troll staggered in place slightly concussed, a wave of spells and arrows assaulted it. The adventurers and guards had ceased running just beyond the tree and now peppered the vulnerable monster. Even though the attacks had little effect on the stony hide, it still irritated the troll something fierce. It turned with a bellow and lashed out at the gathered group, knocking those out position away like scattered dolls.

    The few wounds that appeared on its flanks by lucky strikes healed at an impossible rate until an acid rune burst upon it. A painful and fearful cry resonated in the tunnel.

    One guard, either far too brave or foolish, attempted to lance the troll¡¯s throat only to be seized in a mighty fist. Before she had a chance to scream, yellowed teeth bit her in half and her lower half was tossed aside like refuse.

    ¡°I am Lord Grungee!! I am the hunger of the swamps and hold no equal!! You are but my nourishment!!¡±

    A meaty hand lashed out faster than anyone thought possible for such a large creature and engulfed one of the Lepus chevaliers. Bone armor cracked and splintered as the beast squeezed. Tears of blood ran down the eye-slits of the knight as they uselessly struggled, their iron sword biting less than an inch into the tough hide.

    ¡°Rashe!¡± His companions cried out in horror as he was slowly crushed by the cruel beast.

    Suddenly a pebble cracked against the back of the troll¡¯s head and a stuttering voice yelled out from behind.

    ¡°H-hey! Y-you dumb trollop! I bet your mother sucks j?tnar dicks!¡±

    The honorable Lord Grungee, the self-proclaimed hunger of the mire, paused as he was insulted in a giant¡¯s tongue. The crumpled form of Sir Rashe fell to the floor with a pained groan. Slowly the troll turned to take in the quivering witch standing before the cracked tree. A burning anger flared in its eyes far far deeper than ever before.

    ¡°What. DID. YOU. SAY?!?!¡±

    The bellow rocked the cavern once more, but Autumn remained undeterred, if a bit weak-kneed.

    ¡°I said: Your mother is a j?tnar¡¯s whore!¡±

    The next roar deafened Autumn and the thundering of the troll feet sent her to her knees. In its overflowing rage the troll hardly heeded the precarious nature of the once-collided tree in front of it, the only thought in its mind was to kill the insulting witch. Like a titan or a collapsing mountain it came.

    Autumn held her ground as best she could on shaking knees and raised her quavering hand high and waited.

    It took but a second for the troll to reach her.

    From her wand came a turbulent blast of violet violence. What burst forth was not an ordinary Jinx of Fear, as much as one could call fear magic ordinary, but an overcharge spell that crested into another level of power entirely. She¡¯d learnt from her failure at Everwatch, and had forged the painful experience into a new spell, her own tweak on the one left for her by an absent witch.

    Autumn¡¯s Jinx of Fright? collided heavily with the troll¡¯s face like a giant¡¯s fist, knocking it off course and into the splintered tree. The weakened tree detonated in an explosion of splinters. Time held its breath as the tree creaked and tilted before falling away from them with a cacophonous boom.

    Sunlight streamed in from the rare gap in both the canopy and the clouds to alight upon the stunned form of the troll. In absolute terror, it flung its meaty hand in front of its eyes and screamed.

    ¡°Noooo¡ª¡± Its voice silenced as it turned to stone.

    Silence engulfed the tunnel as its ruler died.

    Autumn¡¯s muffled voice broke into the lull. ¡°Can somebody get me out of here?! I¡¯m trapped underneath a root again!¡±

 Chapter Fifty-Four: The Blood-Stained Fortress

    The bright light of shadowed sun shone down through the broken boughs like a spotlight on a grand stage. A mountainous statue stood in the glow, carved in exquisite detail, one arm raised to shield stony eyes from the sun¡¯s gaze. Behind it lay the shattered stump of a felled tree, home to thousands of now displaced bats.

    In the final moments of the battle, just after she¡¯d cast her new spell, Autumn had ducked under a sturdy protruding root to shelter from the wrath of the stampeding troll. Unfortunately, as the sunlight turned the beast to stone, it¡¯d stepped in front of the gap to Autumn¡¯s hideaway and sealed her in.

    It wasn¡¯t like she wanted to be under another root again; it was just how things worked out. Autumn had to admit as she awaited rescue that it was strange that this had happened three times so far: first in the canyon, then hiding from the fairy-dragon, and finally now. Thankfully, she wasn¡¯t alone and her friends swiftly extracted her from a prison of roots by axe and magic. The plant life gave way where the stone would not.

    Even as stone, the troll¡¯s hide proved impossibly tough.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pity,¡± Nethlia said as she pulled Autumn from the root prison.

    Autumn blinked. ¡°What is?¡±

    Nethlia nodded at the troll statue. ¡°That we couldn¡¯t get that hide. Troll hide is highly prized as leather armor; it¡¯s highly resistant to magic, as you saw. Not that I¡¯m criticizing you or anything; we¡¯d have lost far more people if not for you.¡±

    Autumn''s eyes met the troll''s frightened, stony gaze as it stood tall above her before she looked over towards the wounded and dead.

    Sir Rashe lay under a holy light of healing, critically wounded but somehow not dead. The fate of the other two guards was not as kind. One was but a crimson stain on the ground and the face of a broken calcified club, while the other was in two, with one piece occupying the troll''s petrified digestive system. The other wounded that the troll had scattered like dolls griped and groaned but possessed nothing worse than a few broken bones.

    Autumn helped where she could to lay the dead to rest by collecting up shattered branches into a small pyre. As was custom for the Inferni peoples, they were cremated; luckily the covered tunnel offered shelter from the rain and their new skylight allowed the drifting smoke to escape.

    Once their bodies were into ash, they swiftly doused the fire.

    As they were no longer in a rush the adventurers were free to rest inside the shelter of the tunnel and loot the troll¡¯s lair. Those that went out brought back a treasure pile of gold, gems, and artworks. However, the greatest prizes in the troll¡¯s horde was a minor magical scroll and four minor Healing Potions.

    While the scroll ended up tucked away for sale later, they handed the four potions out to the parties. Seeing as there were five parties, Captain Ekrus opted to go without as they were less likely to remember them in their battle rage. Pyre grabbed theirs and set about tending to the party¡¯s wounds; Autumn only had a few bumps and scrapes from dodging the troll and the rain of splinters.

    The light at the end of the tunnel welcomed them alongside the downpour of rain as they continued on their journey of extermination.

    <hr>

    A flick of a crooked wand sent a bolt of guided fear at a giant frog pretending to be a boulder. Autumn watched with faint amusement as it croaked and bound away into the muddy waters with a splash; she¡¯d sensed the beast following them for a while now, hoping to pick off their lame members.

    Ever since they¡¯d left the tree-way tunnel, the landscape had opened up once more into hills of peat and flooded pools. However, with the cover of dense trees gone, their progress had slowed the closer they got to the goblin encampment.

    It appeared off in the distance as a trio of massive trees bound together with patchwork homes and walls. A wicked sound of discordant drumbeats and foul singing filled the air as they steadily approached, dodging stealthily between hills and clusters of dense vegetation.

    Silently, a witch rose out of the murky water behind a small hill. The last stretch before the goblin camp was an open plain with sporadic clumps of vegetation, forcing them to swim underwater to get closer undetected. Autumn quietly gasped for a breath as she wiped the mud and grime from her eyes.

    Judging by the continued ruckus the goblins were making, they had not seen her.

    Nethlia rose out of the murk beside Autumn, and the pair crawled up to the lip of the hill where the others were waiting. Peering over the edge, they got a look at the goblin camp in all its foul glory.

    Silhouetted by an enormous orange fan of vegetation was a trio of titanous trees rising from the fetid bog, parasitized by goblin structures like giant leeches feasting upon the carcass of some once proud beast. Leafless, they rose like gallows awaiting the hangman. No sane mind had taken part in the construction of this ramshackle fortress; huts of dismal quality tore, shoved, or lashed themselves into whatever cramped space there was in a bewildering maze.

    Whether intentional or otherwise, the goblins had created a hellish terrain to assault.

    The keep was painted crimson. All along the walkways and towers hung the broken and butchered bodies of Bogward¡¯s lost residents and any soul unfortunate enough to fall prey to these beings of unmatched cruelty. It wasn¡¯t clear to Autumn whether they¡¯d been dead prior to being displayed.

    This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    These macabre displays of cruelty further cemented their place within the grander game of good and evil.

    Surrounding the proxy keep was a moat of piss and shit, crossable only by a makeshift drawbridge of questionable integrity. Currently, it was raised and lashed in place by a series of weathered and molded ropes. That¡¯d likely, and hopefully, be their intended port of entry for their assault.

    Autumn didn¡¯t envy who¡¯d have to cross to cut it down.

    Hundreds of redcaps and other goblinoids stomped as they sang, or croaked, horrible hymns with their high-pitched voices; a great orchestra of foul-intent. Amongst the gathering hobbled bigger, uglier goblins smacking those that got in their way. Fights were a common sight, even in the few moments that Autumn watched.

    Lifeblood flowed freely in the blood-stained fortress.

    Goblins as descendants of the Feywild were afeared of cold-iron, so they bore none of its ilk. Instead, they armed themselves with wicked knives of bone or great glaves and spears made of bog-worn copper.

    Having seen all she needed, Nethlia crept back from the hill¡¯s lip while gesturing for Autumn to follow in her wake. The rest of the party, excluding Pyre and her beacon-like hair, remained to monitor the goblin fortress. The alchemist herself looked downright miserable from the short swim; her flaming hair quenched to just flickering embers atop a scalp of cracked, charcoal-like skin.

    The other parties spread themselves out behind the other low hills bordering the fortress and set up cold camps for the night. They would not attack in the night as the gloaming would not aid them; Redcaps and goblinkind possessed the grace of darkvision and would see their approach in the cruel shadows cast by a dying sun or rising moons.

    As Autumn and Nethlia retreated to the water¡¯s edge they were met with the faces of the other adventurer captains rising out of the murk. They¡¯d convened to their little hideaway to assess and plan.

    Nethlia nodded to the others as they crept out of the waters. ¡°Nice swim?¡±

    Captain Ekrus snorted. ¡°Cold as an Ice Elemental¡¯s balls.¡±

    Autumn blinked. Did Ice Elementals have balls?

    ¡°As amusing a thought as that is, how about we go over our plans, hmm? Captain Nethlia, what kind of opposition are we looking at?¡± Captain Arsit asked.

    Nethlia nudged Autumn forwards into the spotlight, giving her a nod to speak. Surprised, Autumn took a moment to collect herself before speaking about what she¡¯d seen as confidently and concisely as she could.

    ¡°W-well, there¡¯s about at least over a hundred, possibly two hundred smaller goblinoids and about a dozen larger ones. The structure is very ramshackle, but the biggest obstacle is a moat they¡¯re using as a latrine that encircles it. However, there is a drawbridge over it, but it¡¯s currently raised. I spotted a few watchtowers here and there in the boughs, but they seem sparsely manned and I have no clue if they have a rotation or something sophisticated like that.¡±

    Captain Ekrus snorted again. ¡°I very much doubt it. These pests don¡¯t do things like ¡®organizing¡¯.¡±

    ¡°I would not be so dismissive. They gathered here, didn¡¯t they?¡± Captain Xiltuil interjected.

    ¡°Right. Back on the subject, please?¡± Captain Arsit turned back to Autumn. ¡°Were the larger goblins Bugbears by chance, or shamans?¡±

    ¡°Uh, if a Bugbear is a lankly looking bear, then yes. I didn''t catch sight of any spell casters, but there are numerous buildings up there they could hide in.¡±

    Captain Gilralei hummed. ¡°There should be. Usually there¡¯s one for every sixty goblins, or so I¡¯ve read. It¡¯s not a hard rule, but we should bear it in mind.¡±

    ¡°Do we think this group is large enough for a Goblin King?¡± Captain Ekrus asked.

    The atmosphere chilled at the mention. Nervous eyes darted over at the hillside behind which the fortress lay. Autumn swallowed as the tension crept over them like a hive of baby spiders breaking free of a cocoon; she didn¡¯t know what exactly a king would mean in this world, but from the other¡¯s looks of trepidation, she could infer it wasn¡¯t a good thing.

    ¡°No, this group is too small. If it was a thousand goblinoids then I¡¯d be worried and we¡¯d be seeing trolls.¡± Everyone looked at Gilralei with raised brows and she blushed. ¡°I meant Goblin-Trolls.¡±

    Everyone gave quiet chuckles. Autumn just raised an eyebrow at the strange humor, not quite getting the joke.

    Captain Arsit stroked his chin as he thought. ¡°So, we need to cross stealthily the, ahem, excuse my language, excrement-filled trench, and lower the drawbridge. The watchtowers make it impossible for all of us to cross without being noticed.¡±

    ¡°My people can take care of the watchers and give you a chance.¡± Captain Xiltuil said.

    ¡°You sure? It¡¯s not going to be a pleasant experience.¡±

    ¡°Pleasure has nothing to do with it. My people will get it done.¡±

    The other captains all gave nods of respect.

    Captain Ekrus spoke up next. ¡°I suppose me and my boys can get that bridge down. Heh, and here I thought I wouldn¡¯t have to wade through shit again after becoming an adventurer. Shows what I know.¡±

    Captain Arsit nodded in appreciation. ¡°A heroic deed, both of you. I¡¯ll honor you with a drink once this is all over.¡±

    ¡°Heh. I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡±

    Captain Arsit smiled. ¡°Right. Captain Nethlia, Captain Gilralei, once the bridge is down would your two groups be able to secure the bridgehead and alleviate pressure from Captain Ekrus?¡±

    Nethlia nodded. ¡°Sure thing, but we don¡¯t have much staying power in the long run; we¡¯re more heavy hitters than pure defenders.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine, you just need to hold long enough for my company and the Duskguard to take over.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of, where is our ¡®illustrious¡¯ Captain Morlech?¡± Nethlia asked, barely holding back a sneer.

    ¡°He¡¯s holding back for a moment, ¡®leading from the rear,¡¯ he said.¡± Captain Arsit shook his head. ¡°Moving on from that, are there any other questions? No? Alright.¡±

    ¡°One last time. Captain Xiltuil crosses to eliminate the watchers, Captain Ekrus follows after receiving his signal and cuts down the bridge, Captain Nethlia and Captain Gilralei secure the bridgehead while I and the Duskguard follow behind. After that, we clean up the goblins without taking any undue risks.¡±

    Seeing their looks of acknowledgement he carried on.

    ¡°We¡¯ll attack at dawn; that¡¯s when they are least likely to spot us. Head on back to our camps and get a good night''s rest. Remember to keep a solid watch and a hush; we don¡¯t want them alerted before we are ready.¡±

    As the captains broke up the meeting, a flutter of movement caught Autumn¡¯s attention. Perched upon a lonesome tree was a many-eyed raven, its red eyes gazing intently at Autumn. She frowned before turning away to follow Nethlia. When she next looked back, it was gone, leaving behind only a few black feathers drifting in the breeze.

    A cold camp awaited her just beyond the watchful eyes of the murderous Redcaps.

 Chapter Fifty-Five: Cold Camp Conversations

    A gloam sunk upon the world as the evening sun was sent to slumber beyond the world¡¯s edge. Mists clung to loamy hills and drifted atop murky waters, concealing the restless ghosts within that roamed in search of the living. Glowing wills-o¡¯-the-wisps danced across the white-shroud canvas like haunting lantern-lures.

    Mournful wails of undeath echoed across the mire but were lost in the cacophony of chaotic goblin beats and awful songs.

    Redcaps come!

    To have some fun!

    Beneath the great green grin!

    We make a din!

    Demons run and demons flee!

    But cannot escape from we!

    Bite and chew and chew and bite!

    For none can escape goblin might!

    Wait your turn for the fire cooks!

    We¡¯ve stoked it up with all your books!

    Break the bones and drink the blood!

    For all else tastes of mud!

    To have some fun!

    Redcaps come!

    Autumn clamped her icy hands around her ears and groaned quietly; this was the tenth time she¡¯d heard the same song. She was half tempted to attack the fort now just to shut them up.

    Around her huddled the rest of the party for warmth. Hidden as they were, they couldn¡¯t risk firelight or its smoke alerting the goblins and thus had struck a cold camp. Cold meat and dried mushrooms served them fine despite their grumbling. At the very least, Autumn¡¯s cleaning spell, Dirt Dismay, made sure they weren¡¯t wet anymore. Now they were just cold.

    ¡°Are they saying anything interesting?¡± Nethlia asked.

    The berserker had one muscular arm draped around Autumn as the witch stole her body¡¯s heat. On her other side, she was likewise being robbed by an Inferni pirate. Nethlia had made the foolish mistake of offering to share her blankets to shield from the night''s chill; a siren song luring in even the more recluse members of the party.

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°No, they¡¯re just poorly singing terrible songs over and over.¡±

    As if to prove her point, the goblins started up another terrible and out of key rendition of ¡°Stab em¡¯ with the pointy end.¡± How such murderous creatures learnt to rhythm, Autumn didn¡¯t want to know. It must be hell on the bards even if they can¡¯t understand the words.

    Autumn groaned as she tried to bury the noise beneath dense berserker muscles. A dark flush crested the ruby-red skin on Nethlia cheeks.

    ¡°Here. Some of this might help.¡± Liddie leant over Nethlia¡¯s rock-hard stomach, pressing herself flat as she passed her flask of mosswine over to Autumn. Behind her, a cheeky tail waved in a disgruntled Nevla¡¯s face.

    The drink still tasted like sugar-coated moss and regret as it burned its way down Autumn¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Gah. How do you drink this stuff?¡±

    Liddie shrugged. ¡°Practice mostly. I used to drink this stuff by the barrel when I was on the brine. You get used to it fast, and it helps get rid of the taste of fried lice and maggoty rations. Brrr.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s face greened, and her stomach churned as her mind imagined it without her consent. Any attempt to focus on something else only brought up memories of other equally disgusting things.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to be sick.¡±

    ¡°Do it in the swamp; the smell around here is already bad enough.¡±

    ¡°Umm, as amusing as this conversation is, could you get off me now?¡± Nethlia asked.

    The berserker¡¯s hand hovered uncertainty over the lithe pirate laying across her stomach, not quite sure of where to touch. Nethlia received a smirk from Liddie, causing Autumn to burn with jealousy; although she was startled when it became unclear of whom she was jealous. When had that happened? She wondered.

    Liddie slinked off of Nethlia¡¯s stomach to nestle back between her and Nelva. The chevalier rolled her eyes at the pirate¡¯s antics. A comfortable silence descended on the group laying on bedrolls underneath another makeshift tent. However, it didn¡¯t last long.

    ¡°Soooo, what¡¯s everyone gonna buy first when we get back?¡± Liddie asked.

    Autumn glanced over Nethlia¡¯s body at the pirate. ¡°Um, isn¡¯t it a bad idea to discuss money we don¡¯t have yet? It¡¯s like a jinx or something.¡±

    ¡°Please. Talking about money we don¡¯t have is practically the Guild¡¯s second favorite pastime, right behind Adventurer¡¯s Gambit. Nobody¡¯s got a pack, right?¡± Liddie looked around the group. ¡°No? Damn. Personally, I¡¯m going to do a tour of every tavern and brothel in the city twice.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°You really should buy some better gear, some magic rings or something. We all should.¡±

    ¡°Pshh, with this payday I¡¯ll have enough for that and as many whores to slake whatever thirst I got,¡± Liddie proudly declared, much to the amusement or exasperation of the others.

    Nelva glared as she slapped at the pirate¡¯s questing tail. ¡°Really, is that all you think about? Personally, I¡¯m going shopping. I need some new clothes after this mire; it¡¯s ruined this set.¡±

    Autumn perked up at the idea. ¡°Me too! I¡¯ve not gotten around Duskfields much. P-perhaps we could check some places out? I¡¯ve only been to Catherine¡¯s Clothing Collections. Have you been there?¡±

    ¡°Oh? I¡¯ve not heard of that place, it sounds¡­quaint. Mayhaps I¡¯ll check it out when we get back, with you, that is.¡±

    ¡°Blarg, all this flirting is making me sick. What about you Edwyn? Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re making plans for a date, too?¡±

    Liddie faked being sick as she mocked the pair. She turned a blind eye and deaf ear to Nelva¡¯s glare and Autumn¡¯s splutter of denial, although a sharp pinch to the side courtesy of Nelva, made her squeak.

    Edwyn ignored the byplay as they gruffly spoke. ¡°Nay, I¡¯m headin ''aff tae the Mage¡¯s Quarter whan I get back tae see whit runes they have, if any.¡±

    Autumn turned her attention away from the play-fighting that broke out between the party¡¯s rouge and defender. Heading over to the Mage¡¯s Quarter sounded like a good idea. She had not been yet as she¡¯d neither had the funds nor the confidence to roam magic¡¯s stomping ground. Now, with a few spells under her proverbial belt, she felt ready to explore that corner of this world.

    Nethlia grunted. ¡°Everyone should save some money to buy magic items to boost your abilities. There¡¯s an auction house in the Noble¡¯s District we could attend or just pop over to the Merchant¡¯s Guild to see what they have.¡±

    ¡°Surely there¡¯s something more frivolous you¡¯d like to buy, Captain?¡± Nelva asked as she pushed Liddie off of herself.

    Nethlia blushed as she scratched her cheek. ¡°Well, I would like to get a good hour-long massage, the deep tissue kind. All this rough-riding has put a few new kinks in my back.¡±

    Autumn nodded in appreciation. If there was ever somebody who could extract a person¡¯s soul with their hands, it was the House of Bloom¡¯s masseuse, Nalaia. Her body still remembered those firm hands and warm oils and longed for another session.

    Shaking off the thoughts, Autumn turned her attention to her other side, where a flame-haired girl lay.

    ¡°What about you, Pyre? You¡¯ve been awfully quiet.¡± Autumn asked.

    Startled, the alchemist squeaked. ¡°Me?!¡±

    While she¡¯d recovered from her bog-drenching thanks to Autumn¡¯s spell, she still looked rather bedraggled; her flaming hair danced sullenly atop her head.

    ¡°Yeah, you got any big plans for your payday?¡±

    Pyre hummed. ¡°W-well, it¡¯s a bit embarrassing, but I was thinking about renting out an alchemy workshop for myself. Don¡¯t get me wrong, my dad¡¯s one is fine, but I¡¯m sick of him looking over my shoulder, you know? I just¡­want a place to myself.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not embarrassing at all!¡± Liddie reassured the girl. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll do something similar and save up for a new pirate ship.¡±

    ¡°Should you be telling us you intend to re-engage in piracy?¡± Nelva deadpanned. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it¡¯s illegal to raid other nations if we¡¯re not at war. You weren¡¯t planning on pirating empire ships, were you?¡±

    Liddie just waved her off. ¡°Blah blah blah. Can¡¯t hear you!¡±

    The dismissal, of course, sent the pair quietly bickering and fighting again.

    In the lull in the conversation, Nethlia whispered to Autumn.

    ¡°What about you? Anything special besides new clothes?¡±

    Autumn chewed her lip in thought; under her sleeve, she stroked the old wand. Withdrawing it from its sheath, she held it up into the dim moonlight. Crooked and bent, the wand of iron-like wood looked the part of an elder witch of whom it was ¡®gifted¡¯.

    It didn¡¯t fit Autumn.

    While it worked well enough for her needs, it possessed a history incongruent with Autumn¡¯s path. It wasn¡¯t like the wand was living per se; it was just¡­old and carved with channels used to emotions estranged from Autumn¡¯s own. Every spell she cast felt she was trying to push against a path that was leading elsewhere.

    ¡°I suppose I¡¯d like to make my own wand or have it made. I have no idea how much that¡¯d cost.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like an adventure.¡±

    Autumn laughed quietly. ¡°I suppose it might. Maybe I¡¯ll need to collect all the materials myself or something? Go on a couple dozen fetch quests?¡±

    Another comfortable quiet settled over the party, the kind of silence that only broke out around people you were comfortable with and were comfortable with you. It was¡­nice.

    The night crept past slowly, but Autumn found no rest; nerves kept her tossing and turning and judging by the similar sounds coming from the others, they were in the same boat.

    Anxiety was just another type of fear, right? Autumn certainly thought so.

    Closing her eyes, Autumn focused on the churning that kept her awake; a ball of twisting anxiety over the battle in the morn resting in her gut. With a flicker of will and magic, she pulled it free. Opening her eyes, she saw a skittering black spider sitting on her palm. Hastily, as if avoiding her attention, it climbed up her arm and shuddering face to nestled beneath her hat.

    Autumn relaxed in the warm embrace of her friends. Autumn realized they might want to get rid of the turmoil in their stomach as well. She could also use the bolster to supply of emotional magic-fuel, not that she needed much; her hat was near bursting.

    ¡°Hey guys?¡± Autumn whispered. ¡°If you want, I can take away your anxiety for now, just so that we can get some sleep. Don¡¯t worry about the cost; I¡¯ll bill you later.¡± Autumn joked.

    Still awake, the others looked over at Autumn. Interest and trust battled with caution as they considered the offer. However, it only took a short internal deliberation before they nodded to her in accord.

    Autumn stretched her hand out before her, gesturing for the others to do the same. One by one, they layered their hands atop one another and Autumn focused. A well of anxiety stretched out from her senses. She could see the dots of nervousness and trepidation of the other adventurer parties and even that of the guards milling further back. Trying to pull on it all was too much, too far, and too soon.

    There were a thousand different excuses to explain her inadequacy, so she simply focused on what she could do.

    Pulling the anxiety from their cores, it crawled out of their skin like a thousand baby spiders. Shudders of revulsion rocked through the party, Autumn included, as the spiders skittered down their arms and up Autumn¡¯s. She resisted the urge to flinch or gag as they crept across her face to disappear under her hat. As the last of them vanished, she lowered her sweat-laced hand, the others quickly following.

    Liddie fell back on her bedroll with a thud, breaking the awkward silence. ¡°Yelp, thanks for that, I guess. At least I know what my new nightmares are going to be.¡± She shuddered.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± Autumn apologized.

    Who would¡¯ve thought trying to remove fear would just give them an alternative source? Well, at the very least, they weren¡¯t fretting over the battle tomorrow.

    Exhausted, Autumn lay back on her bedroll and tried to drift into the sweet embrace of slumber.

    Redcaps come!

    To have some fun!

    ¡°Urg. Someone just kill me already.¡±

 Chapter Fifty-Six: Perspective Shift

    Captain Xiltuli Nimthan, Umbra elf.

    The prickling rays of dawn broke through the dark, rain-filled clouds above to land upon Xiltuli¡¯s sensitive skin. Immediately, an irritating pain bloomed. Hastily, he pulled his hood further down to shield from the hateful rays. How the other races tolerated it, he did not know. Oh, how he missed the Rovalsir Dominion and its cities of darkened streets. Far too long, he¡¯d been from home in a foreign land.

    Red eyes lingered on the blood-stained fortress of goblinkind across the open ground of fetid mire and boggy waters.

    The Red Scorpions had the rights of first blood; it was their task to cut the eyes of the fort to allow those better suited to carnage to take the forefront. Sticking the first knife was a beloved pastime of the Umbra people; they practically grouted the cobblestones of home with blood instead of mortar. Murder wasn¡¯t illegal in the Dominion nor slavery, but even so the matriarchs had ways of staying atop the rivers of blood.

    It¡¯d been the main reason he¡¯d left; he was sick of being below even their dogs.

    Nizana shuffled at his side. The assassin didn¡¯t need to speak a word, her impatience clear in that small allowance of movement. Xiltuli supposed he¡¯d brooded long enough. With a nod he signaled them to prepare to cross.

    The hooded, encompassing cloaks they¡¯d worn till now slipped free down slim forms and were swiftly bundled away into small bags of holding that held just enough room for their gear. Divested of concealment the sunlight prickled exposed sensitive purple and lilac skin. Six sharp and androgynous bodies stood clad in a dark second skin; a wetsuit crafted from the slick hides of a true terror of the chained coast: the Killerwal.

    One Killerwal could annihilate a fleet of hunter-ships. Taking one down could cost hundreds, maybe even thousands, of lives. A price eagerly paid by the Dominion as properly treated and crafted hides of the beast granted immeasurable benefits to the wearer; a near invulnerability to anything the ocean could throw at them. Neither temperature nor pressure would faze them with the suit on.

    The marine special forces of the Dominion¡¯s navy held exclusive rights to the highly sought-after wetsuits, making them exceptionally hard to obtain. As former members of said navy, the Red Scorpions ¡®borrowed¡¯ six before departing. Even with all the favors Xiltuil pulled in, it was a close thing. He bet the navy matriarch was still spitting mad.

    Making sure everything was secure, Xiltuil tugged tightly on the rigging around his shoulders and checked the belts across his chest. Blackened metal throwing knives, designed not to gleam in the light, adorned his sides along the rig while longer fighting knives lashed to thighs, ready to be used. Around everyone¡¯s waists was a belt laden with pouches of poisons and their antidotes.

    Just as the irritation of the clouded sun got too much, they pull on masks to match the wetsuits. Tinted glass lenses shielded sensitive eyes from the glare of sunlight while enchantments allowed them to breathe freely, drawing from an internal reservoir of air rather than the befouled mire.

    Xiltuil looked about his team and got a series of silent assertions of readiness back.

    Six shadows slipped into the murky mire and disappeared from all sight. The waters were clouded and disgusting, and grew even more so when they crested into the befouled moat. However, the wetsuits protected them from feeling any of it besides a general disgust.

    It took hardly any time at all for the assassins to cross unseen, not that they had much opposition; the Redcaps on watch were resentful of their posting and hardly paid attention, preferring to laze in rest. Silently they reappeared against the base of the tree.

    Nary a sound of alarm greeted them.

    Xiltuil hadn¡¯t expected the goblins to notice an elite squad of Umbra ex-marines on approach, but it paid to be careful; sometimes all it took was an unfortunate glance. It was a rule of his to treat all foes as more competent than they appeared¡ªa rule that¡¯d saved him and his squad on more than one occasion.

    Seeing no reaction from the watchers, Xiltuil nodded to his team and gestured up. Slowly they exited the moat, the tainted waters sliding free of the slick surface off their attire. Knives quietly lodged into bark like climbing picks as the assassins ascended, all the while still unnoticed by the watchers above.

    Xiltuil stalled below the lip of a crudely made platform of creaking, rotten wood and fraying ropes. Listening intently, he heard the telltale thud of heavy boots as the bored watcher shuffled in place. Slowly, Xiltuil raised himself up to peek over the lip.

    No uglier creature ever did he see. Teeth like broken knives jutted out from a toothy smile beneath a long, crooked green nose. Bat-like ears, cut and carved, twitched at every little sound, but its beady, red eyes lacked any sort of alertness; they stared dully out over the mire. Atop all its warty green skin and a bald dome sat a bloody red cap, still dripping blood that the Redcap goblin idly licked.

    The tainted-spawn of the Feywild had no notion that its death lingered behind.

    As it clutched a long glaive of worn copper in its wicked claws, a hand roughly grasped it by the jaw and wrenched its head back. Before the goblin could even register the grasp, a blade of keen edge slit its throat anew, creating a new crimson grin. The goblin thrashed to no avail in the firm grip till it stilled. An extra coat of blood lacquered the wood below.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Calmly and silently, Xiltuil lay the corpse to the ground before signaling the rest to rise. One by one, they climbed the boughs in silence, heading off towards their own targets in the sprawling maze of cluttered buildings.

    Over the course of the next hour, the watcher goblins silently disappeared from their posts; their deaths lost in the endless goblin revelry.

    Xiltuil posted himself up out of sight of the goblin encampment, but within sightline of the awaiting adventurer and guard forces. Holding a covered lantern to his chest, he opened and closed it in a prearranged code, letting them know the plan was continuing at pace and that the next phase could begin. The assassin waited a moment as he watched the groups suddenly appear from behind the low hills and silently make their way across the mire towards the bloodstained keep.

    With his thirst for spilled blood yet unquenched, he returned to the goblin keep.

    <hr>

    Watabe Eme, Felis beastkin.

    Eme watched the goblin fortress with bright, dewy eyes, nervously awaiting the lamplight signal. Her sable-colored ears flickered back and forth atop her head of equally dark hair in search of sounds in the pitter patter of rainfall, the raucous sounds of goblin chants, the nervous breathing of adventurers in waiting, and the haunting moans of undead lingering on dawn¡¯s edge.

    A shiver rocked her body as a drop of rain slid down her back. It wasn¡¯t just the rain that was making her shudder; nerves that¡¯d plagued her throughout the night had her onyx tail swaying in agitation and her hands gripping tight to her bardic drums. She wasn¡¯t used to this; the fighting, the waiting, the gods awful rain.

    Her home was warm and far from here.

    On the other side of the empire was the Great Thirst, an inland sea that ran from the Ironspine mountains all the way to the continent¡¯s eastern coast. Within that sea lay a myriad of islands, the largest of which was Nekomini Island, Eme¡¯s homeland. The ancestral home of the Felis beastfolk currently lay within the Echea Empire¡¯s control, something that was a contentious issue with the other Felis nations.

    Unlike here, her home was a series of golden sandy beaches and endless plains of grass isolated from the world. Before she¡¯d left/run away, Eme hadn¡¯t even seen another race before. Somehow, against all odds, she¡¯d made the trek across the empire to this far-flung barony and joined up with a gold-rank bardic band.

    It was rather shocking; she could barely hold a tune!

    While Eme knew songs passed down from her mother and could smack a scant drumbeat, she wasn¡¯t a natural, charismatic bard like the rest of her party. The closest she¡¯d gotten, much to her embarrassment and the teasing of the others, was ¡®seducing¡¯ a witch. She used the term seducing rather loosely, as she was far too drunk at the time to proclaim any competence in the act.

    Eme looked towards said witch just in front of her; the two teams had convened to assault the fort together. Sensing eyes upon her, Autumn turned to the source and the pair''s eyes met. Heat bloomed across Eme¡¯s cheeks as she recalled the shameful cries she¡¯d uttered under the witch¡¯s thrall. Shyly looking away, she missed the likewise dusting of red on the pale girl¡¯s cheeks.

    A playful nudge in Eme¡¯s side drew her attention to her fellow bard beside her.

    ¡°Making eyes with your lover again?¡± Delight asked with a smirk.

    Eme couldn¡¯t help but blush further.

    The demoness was Eme¡¯s best friend and had, pardon the pun, delighted in teasing Eme for the last few days. She was different from Eme¡ªa dancer rather than a drummer.

    Usually the demoness wore rather revealing flowing silks and sparkling and jangling golden jewelry to show off her toned body. However, the current climate forced her into a covering of furs and scarves, much to her annoyance. Annoyance she¡¯d been leveling on the poor Felis.

    ¡°I mean, really? A witch? You¡¯re far braver than I, all of us, gave you credit for. I¡¯m¡­proud, yeah, I¡¯m proud of you, Eme.¡± Delight said as she grinned at the embarrassed Felis.

    Eme¡¯s ears flattened to her skull, and her tail whipped in agitation.

    ¡°Delighttt!¡± she whined. ¡°Stop messing with me! I shouldn¡¯t have told you anything.¡±

    Delight chuckled. ¡°Tell us? We could tell from your wobbly walk in the morning!¡±

    ¡°Delight!¡± Eme hissed.

    ¡°Alright, alright. No need to puff up, I¡¯m happy for you. Honest! You¡¯ve passed the unofficial bard¡¯s rite of passage: Seduce someone you really shouldn¡¯t. It brings a tear to the eye.¡± She mimed wiping a tear away.

    Eme huffed as she ignored her friend, preferring to focus on the impending mission. The brief distraction was nice, but it didn¡¯t dispel the prevailing nerves deep inside. While she¡¯d not been with the troupe long, this mission was still far from their typical commissions of playing for feasts or festivals. Their magics were used more for frivolity than combat. Sure, they¡¯d gone on a few monster hunts before, but nothing like this.

    There¡¯d been quiet¡­disagreements amongst the party over the acceptance of the mission, but in the end, they¡¯d acquiesced to Captain Gilralei¡¯s judgment. She only hoped things turned out well.

    A lantern light flickered in the distance.

    ¡°Alright troupe, we¡¯re on. Follow behind the Dusk wolves and support the front. We can have this mission wrapped up before we know it,¡± Captain Gilralei said before leading them across the mire.

    Ahead of them, the other parties marched quickly and quietly through the boggy terrain, their boots sucking into the mud and peat. The trio of demons that made up the Nemesis Crew led the way. Eme shuddered as they plunged into the foulness of the moat. Even from here, her keen Felis senses smelt the stench amongst the iron of blood and the general rotten sink of the mire.

    By the time her group reached said moat, the had demons reached the other side and set about cutting down the goblin-made drawbridge with heavy axes. With a resounding crash, the drawbridge came down to bridge the septic moat, the poor construction splintering and cracking with the impact.

    Eme charged across the rotten passageway behind the tall backs of the Dusk Wolves, trying her best to keep up with their long strides. Her heart pounded a wild and powerful beat she tried to match with bardic talents and magic.

    The screaming of goblins sounded loud in her twitching, quivering ears as they poured down from the boughs like a tide. Knives of jagged bone and glaives of rusted, corroded metal waved widely in savage glee as the Redcaps took in the foes invading their bloodstained fortress.

    Slender Felis hands tapped a rhythm onto a hide drum, hoping and praying things would work out fine.

 Chapter Fifty-Seven: A Berserkerâ€™s Initiative

    Nethlia, Inferni.

    Blood pounded loudly in Nethlia¡¯s ears as her heavy boots cracked the rotten wood. The adrenaline of rage coursed through her veins in a heady rush as she charged across the rickety bridge. She licked her lips in anticipation of the death to come. For once, no nerves shook her limbs and mind; she was cold and sharp like ice.

    Nethlia focused ahead. The crash of the drawbridge had rung the proverbial dinner bell and down the boughs came a green tide; crashing, gnashing, and smashing. Roaring, Nethlia jabbed out with her pole-hammer like a lance; the piked end spearing a surprised goblin. With a swing, the impaled foe was flung away, clearing those around it in a spray of blood.

    Under her booted heel, skulls broke.

    With iron and aggression, a walking omen of violence pushed into the horde of greenskins before they could gather into any sort of meaningful defense. Twisted pleasure faltered before Nethlia¡¯s might. Blunt force trauma proved a cure to wretchedness.

    Nethlia rushed past Ekrus, the captain holding his own with fury at his side. The swings of great axes cut down swathes of foul foes like a woodcutter before a fresh forest.

    As her team had observed, there were hundreds of goblins within this blood-soaked keep. While they were monstrous in nature and beholden to their otherworldly desires, they weren¡¯t without tactics; the fort served as a prime example. If they were to gather upon the bridgehead in any sort of formation, it¡¯d make it a far more costly affair to cross. As such, it was up to her and her team to prevent that from happening.

    A streak of purple magic whizzed over Nethlia¡¯s head, courtesy of Autumn. The bolt of fear striking upon a goblin archer resting above, sending it squealing and tumbling down before a booted stomp sealed its fate. Yet more hateful Redcaps came to fill its place.

    Nethlia took a moment to admire the witch.

    Autumn stood proud and defiant as she held her wand aloft. Dark eyes flickered back and forth, calmly scanning the battlefield. Behind her drifted a thick curtain of long silken threads of black, fluttering in the wind and rain, while a dark and brooding hat perched atop her head like a mountain. She¡¯d come a long way from that shivering, twig-filled wanderer that¡¯d crept into Nethlia¡¯s tavern late in the night. Yet, Autumn''s fingertips still quavered and her dark orbs unveiled a guardedness when she thought nobody was looking.

    One would have to be a fool to miss the oddities surrounding the witch; her so-called language magic, a strange lack of knowledge, the weird terms she used. It was clear the witch was from far away.

    Nethlia came to the unsettling conclusion that Autumn was most likely from across the sea, beyond the demon continent. She couldn¡¯t be from the continent¡¯s south; she was far too friendly and non-judgemental towards other races. If she was from the human continent, then things made a lot more sense. However, if it was true, it left Nethlia in an awkward position as very few of those nations had any sort of goodwill with the Inferni; the Bearmaw Tribes were a prime example.

    There was one other radical explanation: perhaps Autumn was from another, hitherto undiscovered continent. If she was telling the truth about being abducted by the fae, it was possible she¡¯d traveled further than anyone had guessed.

    Nethlia dismissed her whimsical thoughts and concentrated again, focusing on the battle. Spotting movement by her feet, she kicked out and her boot-heel collided with the skull of a goblin attempting to hamstring her. The sounds of snapping bone accompanied the creature as it rebounded to crash down dead.

    A shield of bone and iron intercepted a rusted glaive as it descended towards Nethlia. Nelva slid into formation beside her berserker captain. The Lepus chevalier was quick like lightning; her iron blade dancing out like a viper¡¯s bite, leaving behind sizzling fae-bane wounds. She turned towards Nethlia, face hidden by a grim bone helm.

    ¡°Captain.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Nethlia grunted as she smashed her pole-hammer into the face of another goblin. ¡°We need to keep the goblins from forming up; we¡¯ll be in trouble if they form a pike wall.¡±

    ¡°Agreed. They''re a lot more tenacious than I¡¯d expected.¡± Nelva slammed her shield into the face of a goblin before her quick blade beheaded it.

    Nethlia stepped forward into the opening and swept her pole-hammer through the horde, carving a path into the tide of green. Her hands never rested and her feet never stilled. Pain didn¡¯t faze the berserker, only stoked her ever-present anger, building it to a billowing inferno that steamed the rain falling across her tight muscles. Another sneaky goblin tried to cut her low, only to be driven into the roots by a nail-driving swing.

    Already the bark underfoot ran slick with goblin blood.

    The carnage perpetrated by the berserker attracted the attention of the bloodthirsty goblins and they rushed together at her with rusted pole-arms. Threatening jabs forced Nethlia back, but before she could retaliate, a white flash cleanly severed the blades from their hafts. The goblins stared in shock and confusion as their weapons fell apart. Another series of flashes left them headless.

    ¡°Need help there, captain?¡± Liddie asked with a smirk. Loosely held in her hand was her mithril blade, the white-gold metal awash with blood.

    A rumbling growl bubbled up in Nethlia¡¯s throat; affection, admiration, and annoyance mixed into a confusing concoction in her chest. Growing up she¡¯d heard all sorts of stories about the war-hero and meeting her didn¡¯t disappoint; she had such a natural charisma that provoked something animalistic inside the berserker. Nethlia wanted to just grab the pirate by the throat and smash her into a wall.

    She was unsure about what would follow; fucking or fighting.

    ¡°Appreciate it.¡± Nethlia managed to growl out.

    Liddie grinned as she shuddered beneath the noise.

    Another streak of purple fear whizzed over their heads, kicking a loitering goblin archer from its nest with substantial force. The pair watched as the screaming goblin sailed into a wall, crashing with a splatter, and fell silent.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Liddie whistled. ¡°Looks like our witch is growing stronger.¡±

    Our? Nethlia wrestled down her possessiveness and grunted in affirmation. From behind them came a euphonic beat of musical magic. A rush flowed over Nethlia; her limbs tightened, her already powerful biceps bulged, and she felt lighter, faster as the magic infused her with greater strength and speed. Glancing beside her, she saw that Liddie and Nevla both were likewise buffed by the bardic troupe; their limbs growing a tad more defined.

    The trio grinned as they laid into the Redcap ranks with renewed aggression and power.

    An iron pole-hammer came down in a crushing, bone-breaking blow before thrusting out to catch the next goblin off-guard. As Nethlia retracted her weapon back into a guard, a witch¡¯s whispered warning crept into her mind.

    [Bugbears above!]

    Turning her gaze skyward, Nethlia spotted the thirteen of the creatures bounding down the boughs, shaking the branches with each leap.

    The beastial goblinoids were no less ugly than their smaller cousins; only the twisted fever dreams of a mad artist would liken them to bears. Shattered teeth and pointed tusks sat within a bared grin; lips pulled back in a snarl. A pair of yellow, beady eyes glared out from above a flat, crumbled nose and beside a pair of bat-like ears. Fur matted with grime and blood clung tightly to the beast¡¯s corded muscles as it stood tall like a demon or man. Its muscular arms hung like long clubs down to thick, furred feet, ending in keen claws.

    Each Bugbear bore rough, moldy leathers as armor and heavy clubs of rotten wood and rust as they bounded down the boughs, roaring and hollering as they went. The demented bears crushed the slowest Redcaps beneath their massive paws without care as they descended; their minds were only on the prey below.

    Nethlia tightly gripped her weapon as a toothy grin affixed itself to her lips.

    As the first of the repulsive Bugbears landed on the slick roots it was met with the furious roar and axe of Ekrus. He charged into the fray with a body slick with blood¡ªboth his own and of those he felled. Like a meteor crashing the two met in a thunderous clash. Not far behind came his two sons and they too engaged with the descending Bugbears with singing axes.

    Ten Bugbears still came on, backed by a horde of Redcap goblins.

    With blood singing a rhythm of carnage in her veins, Nethlia braced herself for the onrushing monsters. She was not alone; Nelva rested her sword upon her shield to one side while Liddie swirled her razor-sharp blade on the other. Nethlia believed that between them, they could handle three, possibly four, of the Bugbears. Ten was too many. It¡¯d be too many for even a fully gold-rank team on their lonesome in a reasonably open battle like this.

    Luckily they weren¡¯t alone.

    [Duck.]

    Nethlia obeyed the warning without hesitation, an instinct honed from many intense training sessions at her insistence. Beside her, the others did the same just in time for a volley of whistling arrows to scythe overhead. The hail of arrows robbed the charging monsters of their momentum; scores of murderous Redcaps sprouted feathered shafts from their tattered chests. Crumpling to the ground, they lay down forevermore.

    Rising from her crouch, Nethlia glanced over her shoulder. Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule had finally arrived to fortify the bridgehead, engaging the wave of greenskins that poured down from the boughs above. A shield wall bristled with spears that archers hid behind, pelting the goblins up high. Green bodies fell like the ever-pouring rain before the ranged assault.

    Three knights, armed and armored in bone plate over iron chain, detached from the group alongside Captain Arsit to intercept four of the Bugbears.

    Only six monsters now threatened the two teams.

    Nethlia took the charge to meet the beasts still staggered by the arrow volley. Not only did Nelva and Liddie follow her into the fray, but a blade bard did too. G¨¦r?me smiled as he held a slim, glowing blade at his side.

    Just before the fighters clashed with the monsters, the back-lines unleashed their magical might. Arrows of light pierced and burned into the furry hides as a rune detonated into a cluster of tangling vines, locking the Bugbears in place. One monster was unfortunate enough to get a face full of caustic potion; it screamed in pain as its eyes melted. The one Nethlia targeted staggered as a bolt of purple punched it in the jaw just before she hit it like a runaway Agoroth.

    Roars of pain and outrage accompanied heavy hammer blows; flesh split and bones cracked behind the brutal hits. The sound rattled Nethlia¡¯s skull, but it only spurred her to hit more, hit harder. Yet it wasn¡¯t content to just be her punching bag; razor-sharp claws and violent swings rained down upon her and what she couldn¡¯t dodge laid into her armor and flesh.

    Blood flowed freely down her side; the pain ignited the built-up rage inside.

    Crimson aggression overtook her vision like a bloody film. With a roar and a hammer-strike she conveyed her discontent to the Bugbear¡¯s jaw. Teeth shattered and were driven further into the twisted beast¡¯s skull. A gurgled whimper escaped its throat. Another dominant blow cracked its ribs as she laid into the monster, driving it back.

    The false-bear struggled against her strength with might of its own. The berserker dodged back from a wild swing before driving her pole-hammer into its side. It staggered into another blow, courtesy of the other end of her pole-arm. Snarling, it tried to swipe out at her with brutal paws, but the berserker was too quick, and all it got for its troubles was another crack to the ribs.

    Grinning through the blood, she taunted the beast; it responded with a pained roar.

    Purple splashed across the distracted beast¡¯s brow, sending it staggering once more. Her prey¡¯s weakness sent the berserker into a fury and she swung her weapon with all her might. The iron hammerhead crashed into the Bugbear¡¯s temple and dropped it to the roots below, dead.

    Steam rose from the berserker''s tense muscles as she inhaled the foul air with heaving breaths.

    [Strike left!]

    The berserker obeyed.

    She pivoted left and swung, barely registering what she was swinging at. Iron whistled through the air. The blind strike crashed into the sundered abdomen of another foul monster, cut open by an iron blade. Roaring in pain, the Bugbear detached itself from a bone shield it was trying to wrestle from a firm grasp and reared back.

    Suddenly, a white-gold cutlass punched through the back of its open maw. It blinked confused and in pain before the impossible sharp blade split it in twain. A mass of butchered meat fell to the root and stone with a splat. In its place stood a winsome demoness, grinning at the pair. Behind her her own foe lay butchered, guts steaming; its tough hide doing naught in the face of the mithril blade.

    ¡°T-thanks for your help, Captain.¡± The Lepus chevalier beside the berserker said.

    Turning towards the sound, the berserker took in her ally¡¯s state. The Lepus chevalier wasn¡¯t looking too hot; one long bunny ear lay limp and blood-coated against her helm while her bone armor was festooned with deep scratch and rents.

    The berserker grunted, unable to find the words as anger and possessiveness pulsed.

    A deafening boom interrupted them. Magical lightning lashed down from the darkened sky amongst chanting rhymes and beats; a spell song unleashed. The remaining few Bugbears died under the payload of magical retribution; their bodies were nothing but burnt husks.

    The berserker glanced around in the sudden silence that lingered behind the explosion. She gazed at the bards behind her, panting from their exertion; the elven leader gave her a tired nod that she gruffly returned. All seemed to be going well, so obviously that¡¯s when things went to the hells.

    On the berserker¡¯s waist the hex-proof charm snapped.

 Chapter Fifty-Eight: Hex Rain Descends

    Amongst the hectic sounds of combat, the snapping of the anti-hex charms was like a gunshot. Curses came down like a dark rain, crashing heavily onto the gathered adventurers under the boughs. Writhing maggots conjured by darkcraft bit and burrowed into vulnerable eyes while spurs of bone snapped and broke through flesh. Desperate, panicked fingers pulled and clutched at the oozing wounds as blinded fighters screamed in horror and pain.

    The supportive ballad ceased as bards recoiled, their dulcet, heroic tunes halting. In the sudden silence the sound of vile cackling from on high drew attention to the perpetrators of such heinous violence.

    A trio of Gobhags clad in wet furs and cloaks of dripping crimson skin cackled down at the gathered adventurers, waving decaying staves and wands of overgrown wood. The more ¡®feminine¡¯ ¡ª if you could call such monstrosities such ¡ª goblins were no less ugly than the rest. Cruel features of twisted teeth and bulging eyes peered out from beneath tall red caps alongside long hooked noses. Around their sharp, bony hips they bore belts of hundreds of gnarled and chewed finger-bones, charms or symbols both.

    It was they who¡¯d cursed down upon the adventurers, and even now continued to do so.

    Autumn''s party narrowly escaped a similar terrible fate, all thanks to her sacrificial charms she¡¯d foisted upon them.

    Lances of malevolent hex-light flung down towards the parties from cruel lips and gnarled magics. However, without the element of surprise, most ended up dodged and splashing harmlessly upon the crimson-slicked ground. Canceling magic hastily intercepted those that weren¡¯t, Autumn¡¯s own joining in desperate defense. Purple light of fear clashed with the black-red of malice in a dazzling display of fireworks above the heads of those still battling.

    The Gobhags howled and cackled in their goblin tongue as they pitched more chaotic hexcraft downwards; even they did not know what they were casting, only that it was as viscous as they were.

    Autumn slung jinx after jinx skyward to counter those coming down, the other mages and casters still standing did likewise. However, a large swath of the bards behind her were still downed by the initial unseen volley and unable to aid her defense, so the burden fell squarely on her shoulders. Around her, the fighters of her party mounted a fierce defense, proactively cutting down the wave of goblins following behind the wave of curses.

    The greenskins salivated and gibbered at the sight of wounded prey.

    From the nests above, the Gobhags swiveled their cruel attention away from the protected adventurers to the more vulnerable back-lines. Glancing over her shoulder, Autumn took in the bridge. The Duskguard was just now arriving. At their head, Captain Morlech strolled like he was on a leisurely walk. While late, Inferni guards, demon and demoness, nervously marched under the protection of Les Lames Du Cr¨¦puscule to join the front and clean up the thinning goblin horde.

    An act that had not gone unnoticed.

    Harassing hex-bolts streaked overhead in vaster quantities. They crashed into the mounted defense of jinxes, spells, and songs in the open air. While thinned from a tidal wave of absolute violence to a mere stream, hexes and curses still slipped through to crash upon the guardsmen, eliciting more cries of horror and pain.

    Like the rolling mire mists, fear hung heavy in the air.

    Sweat trickled down Autumn¡¯s neck as she continued casting. Every breath she took sucked in a trickle of that cloying presence of terror into her well of magic. It wasn¡¯t only her that was feeling the pressure; Pyre and Edwyn hurriedly dragged and carried the injured and blinded into shelter against the roots of one of the large trees, hiding them from the downpour of malevolent magic.

    Nelva stood in front of Autumn with a ragged appearance; one of her long bunny ears hung lopsided from a hasty healing. An unfortunate strike had almost severed the ear completely. Still, the chevalier resolutely defended the otherwise occupied Autumn from the teeming green tide, trusting in the witch to guard her against the creeping hex rain.

    On the goblins came, scurrying over the mounds of their carved and cut dead. Pouring rain turned the pools of crimson blood beneath green feet into long rivers of gore.

    Nethlia plowed into them with a blood-crazed roar, scattering them before her might. The berserker¡¯s eyes looked about the carnage with a haze of battle. It filled her mind with only violence; she barely recognized those she fought alongside.

    Suddenly, the barrage of spells ceased just as it reached a zenith. Startled, Autumn swung her head heavenward towards the Gobhags. Muttering and mumbling under their foul breath, the Gobhags clustered together over a scroll of skin and sin, performing a profane rite. Words of chaotic wickedness crested in a rising swell that burned Autumn¡¯s ears. ¡°Acha Talla Feial Thulum!¡± The weave of magic shuddered and shook as if plucked by the very words themselves. An orb of pure blackness appeared in the sundered air at the crescendo of croaky shouts. Slowly, it began expanding. Loose weapons and debris rose into the air towards the sucking vortex; Autumn herself felt a tugging upon her that grew by the second.

    ¡°Fuck me! They¡¯ve a Black Sun Scroll! Disrupt it, Quickly!¡± Captain Gilralei shouted, her face twisting in fear as she witnessed the blackened hole forming.

    A fresh wave of pure chaotic magic thrashed against the building orb of sucking nothingness, attempting to disrupt the rite. Autumn leveled her brand of disruption against the weaved magic and its casters as her feet began lifting from the floor. A firm grasp arrested her upwards moment; Nethlia held tight to Autumn¡¯s leg while hooking her pole-hammer into the roots below. Around them, the other scrambled onto the trees and boughs as the intensity of the suction increased; loose weapons and goblin bodies disappeared into the gravity well with disgusting crumpling and squelching noises.

    The Black Sun began wavering under the barrage of vicious, chaotic spells and songs. Even so, it persisted. The sucking wind inhaled the desperate screams and calls as adventurers and guardsmen alike held on for dear life. Several unfortunate souls disappeared into the gaping maw with a scream as their grips faltered. Yet, the grip on Autumn¡¯s leg was like steel, refusing to let her vanish into the dark alone. She could feel her bones stretching and popping as the suction grew and grew.

    The profane Black Sun sought to eat the entire world.

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Finally, a lucky strike of a cast jinx splashed onto one Gobhag and their concentration broke, unraveling the spell which exploded with an almighty bang and a powerful rush of wind. From whence it was born, a red marble of gore fell.

    Autumn yelped as gravity shifted and she tumbled into the awaiting arms of Nethlia. Her pale face erupted into a fiery blush as thick, muscular arms held her and burning eyes glared down at her with aggressive possessiveness. Heat and hard-won sweat blasted off of Nethlia in rolling waves, coating Autumn¡¯s thoughts in a haze of fiery thoughts. She gulped as a bead of sweat ran down the berserker¡¯s taut neck; heat built up in her core as her throat ached with a sudden thirst.

    A scream and a gurgle wrenched Autumn¡¯s mind from her intoxicating thoughts and burn of hot fingers on her thighs. Stunned from the jinx and the backlash of the breaking spell, the Gobhags hadn¡¯t noticed the approach of the Umbra assassins. Without ceremony, keen knives opened them up and cast them down to the roots below.

    Autumn panted as her heart raced, still cradled in strong and mighty arms. Veins of magic in her arm pulsed with a familiar burn, like a fever it wracked her abused body.

    Glancing about, Autumn noted with a grim finality that several faces were missing from the expedition; three Duskguards had disappeared into the hungry maw alongside a single Rain Knight and a pair of Lepus adventurers from the Les Lame Du Cr¨¦puscule. There weren¡¯t even bodies left to mourn; their blood, flesh, viscera, and even armor were all crushed together alongside a score of goblins.

    At the very least, the spell had wiped out the last living goblinoids. All they needed to do now was to care for the wounded and collect the proof they needed to complete their mission. Oh, and loot the foul fortress.

    While the hateful curses and hexes had faltered with the death of their casters, the effects still lingered; blinded eyes wept with bloody tears while unnatural growths of bone or flesh sprouting all over others¡¯ bodies. About them darted the healers, Pyre included, tending to the wounded with potions or prayers. Moans of pain and cries of terror filled the otherwise silent air, the monsters and creatures of the mire scared into hiding by the violent fighting.

    Not only was it the denizens of the mire that hid; all throughout the battle, Autumn saw neither hide nor hair of Captain Morlech. Now, as the battle wound down, he emerged proudly like a strutting peacock or a great general. Up and down the roots he pompously walked, sneering at the exhausted adventurers as he went, ignoring the fact he was greasier with sweat than everyone else.

    ¡°Heh, couldn¡¯t handle even a measly few goblins, eh?!¡± he said with a sneer.

    Nethlia growled deeply, sending a rumble through Autumn''s body that still lay held in her grasp.

    The corpulent captain blanched before his face lit up with anger and turned to a stoic-faced Captain Arsit. Behind him loomed a pair of Rain Knights, their armor wet with blood and rain.

    ¡°I¡¯d advise you to muzzle your beast, Captain. I¡¯ll be letting your Guild know of your incompetence as soon as we return!¡±

    Captain Arsit stared coldly at the blustering fool of a captain. ¡°I¡¯d be careful if I were you or else you might not make it back home; there are a lot of dangerous beasts in these swamplands. Who knows what you might come across?¡±

    The guard captain somehow turned even redder despite his teal-toned skin.

    ¡°Is that a threat?!¡± he squealed, his honor guard laying their hands on their swords, much to the amusement of the adventurers surrounding them.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Captain Arsit hummed in mock thought. ¡°No, just a bit of friendly advice.¡±

    In the face of the not-so-subtle threats and mockery, Captain Morlech looked like he¡¯d rupture a vein. Lit up like a strawberry, he stormed out with a tense jaw, clenched fists, and a dark look in his eye towards the water¡¯s edge. Unbeknown to him, a witch kept a keen eye on him; she¡¯d known people like him before back home, the type that¡¯d scheme in the dark after being publicly humiliated. They were those people that¡¯d never had anyone not bow before their wealth, status, or connections.

    Autumn reluctantly patted the burly arms that held her. ¡°Um, Nethlia? C-could you put me down now?¡±

    A far calmer Nethlia jolted as if shocked as she realized she was still embracing Autumn like a fragile treasure. Hastily but carefully, she returned Autumn to her aching feet; a sharp twinge of pain bloomed in her ankle upon contact with the roots.

    Autumn yelped slightly.

    ¡°Are you alright?¡± Nethlia asked with concern.

    ¡°Y-yeah, I think you pulled my ankle a bit.¡±

    Nethlia looked sorrowful. ¡°Sorry.¡±

    Smiling, Autumn turned to the abash berserker and marveled at her shyness. ¡°Don¡¯t be; you saved my life again. A little pain is nothing.¡± Autumn demonstrated by placing more weight on her complaining ankle, as already the pain had dulled enough to walk on.

    A sigh and a smile of relief crested Nethlia¡¯s face, much to Autumn¡¯s quiet delight. However, her joy was dampened by a sight out of the corner of her eye. The rotund Captain Morlech hadn¡¯t disappointed her rather low expectations; at the edge of the waterline, he was muttering and grumbling to his retinue, instructing them to encircle surreptitiously the tired and wounded adventurers. One didn¡¯t have to be a mind-reader to see they were planning to betray them, likely claiming in the aftermath that they were ¡®lost¡¯ to the mire.

    ¡°It looks like the Duskguard are planning to attack us,¡± Autumn said to Nethlia who looked over with cold eyes.

    ¡°I see it. Stay behind me and stun the knights first if anything untoward happens.¡±

    Autumn nodded as she readied herself. It wasn''t just her that noticed the traitorous happenings within the Duskguard; you could say that Captain Arsit had baited this behavior out of the corpulent captain. The adventurers held themselves taut, far more secretive than the plainly nervous guardsmen.

    Captain Arsit stood calmly across from Captain Morlech. ¡°So, the carrion feeder reveals its true colors. I¡¯d advise you to think clearly. I doubt all these demons and demonesses wish to die for your vainglory.¡±

    Captain Morlech sneered, bolstered by the fact he stood behind a wall of knights and guards with the water to his back.

    ¡°I am thinking clearly. I¡¯ve had to put up with your rabble and trash for far too long and it¡¯s time to put your ilk down like the human-loving dogs you are. No need to worry; I''ll make sure to inform your maligned Guild of your valiant deaths or something equally ridiculous when I return. Your kind love that tripe.¡±

    Around the adventurers, the guardsmen tightly clutched their weapons; they¡¯d seen the power and carnage they could unleash and weren¡¯t taking them lightly. Likewise, Autumn held her weapons fast with sweat-slicked palms.

    The great fan flora swayed gently in a sudden breeze.

    ¡°Now, I¡¯ve wasted enough breath on bottom-feeders. Guards, att¡ª¡±

    A grand jaw, massive in scale, burst forth from the mire in a tremendous spray of filth. Captain Morlech disappeared as prodigious spear-like teeth tore through flesh and bone in a single bite; only a pair of still filled boots remained behind.

    Out of the battering waves of the fetid moat, an enormous head rose high into the gloomy sky. Sharp, dark eyes glinted with a malevolent cunning as it surveyed the blood-stained fortress before it, taking in the fright-frozen forms of adventurers and guards. The cresting sail that Autumn, and the others, had mistaken for a giant swamp plant, swayed behind the beast¡¯s head and along its spine as it climbed out of the moat with pounding footsteps that shook the trees.

    Up and up it rose.

    Murky waterfall poured down its bulk as the dragon-blooded Swamp Tyrant emerged. With a breath soured by gore and sewage, it let out a thunderous roar that echoed dominance throughout the mire; even those in Bogward heard and cowered before the sound.

    Autumn would be lying if she said she didn¡¯t pee herself a little.

 Chapter Fifty-Nine: A Tyrant Rises

    Dragons once held dominion over the land, sea, and sky until a foul god deposed and devoured them. Their terrifying strength and all-consuming breath allowed them to roam freely and pillage the world with voracious hunger and maligned greed. So great was their girth they could cover a town in their darkness. While their absence had liberated the people of the world from draconic tyranny, a prolific number of hybrid offspring remained behind.

    The Swamp Tyrant was one such dragon-blooded descendant.

    It rose ever higher from the filth of the moat; the water level hastily retreated in its wake.

    Yellowed spear-like teeth festooned an enormous jaw; bits and pieces of Captain Morlech still hung from between them. A thick skull like that of a prehistoric dinosaur sprouted a pair of massive horns twisting backwards in an intimidating display, protecting a pair of dark eyes that sparkled with cruel animal intelligence. The beast¡¯s hide was thick with protective osteoderm, subdermal plates of armor that ran all along its back and sides like the skin of a crocodile.

    Stalking forwards with prideful confidence, its tall fan waved in a display of intimidation and might as the muffled sounds of heavy steps echoed from underwater. Slowly, four tree-trunk-like legs broke the murky surface one after the other until all four limbs of keen claws bit deeply into the wood of the dead roots. It drew its heavy bulk further into the small grove; the root lattice below groaning under the weight.

    The vast creature was the size of a building. In fact, it was eerily similar in form to the Drowned Tyrant Inn. Perhaps the same family of creatures that stood before them now contributed its bleached bones to form the peculiarly striped inn.

    A mace-like tail was last to leave the water, swaying side to side as it prowled aggressively towards the adventurers on the relatively dry land.

    Hunger glinted in its small, dark eyes.

    Autumn held her breath as a cloying blanket of fear suffocated the air. Her fingers clenched tightly around her weapons as her mind desperately sought for her repertoire of magical might. While she was growing more confident in her strength, she didn¡¯t think it¡¯d be enough to combat the half-dragon before her. Autumn strangled the nascent fear inside of her beating chest, wrestling it into a source of power.

    Around her, the dismayed and stunned adventurers and guardsmen uttered quiet prayers to deities they hoped would listen.

    Suddenly, Captain Arsit¡¯s voice cut through the shocked silence. ¡°Move! Get your spears up into phalanx before it charges!¡±

    Autumn jolted alongside the others at the sound.

    Like a well-oiled machine, the still-standing and unharmed guards and adventurers followed his shouted commands, forming up into a bristling wall of spears and pole-arms as the Tyrant stormed towards them. Crudely made huts and walkways broke apart before its bulk as it charged at the nervous warriors with a rumbling growl.

    Autumn almost stumbled to the bucking ground, but a powerful grip bore her to her feet and steadied her. Nethlia practically dragged her along the writhing roots as her party and the bards fled to the sides. Glancing around, Autumn didn¡¯t spot neither hide nor hair of their party¡¯s rogue; Liddie having disappeared with nobody the wiser. Despite the unease in her gut, Autumn hoped the vanished pirate was simply laying in wait.

    Upon the phalanx of bristling spears, the Tyrant fell with an almighty crash. To Autumn''s horror, the weapons splintered and broke as they impacted the tough hide of the beast, horns and claws swept away the sharp points. Only a few found their marks to carve grooves between scales and bone plating.

    With terrified haste, the fighters dodged out of the way of the multi-tonne beast, leaving their weapons behind braced against the roots. The spears extolled a debt of blood from the dragon-blood before they exploded in a shower of wood, unable to cope with the pressure and weight.

    A roar of pain and anger ripped free of the Tyrant as it thrashed its mighty head; waves of spellcraft splashed against it in an attempt to distract it from the fleeing front-line fighters.

    While most escaped the stomping feet, a few weren¡¯t so lucky and met their end beneath clawed feet. Silk and bone armor offered little protection from the tonnage crushing down upon them. Blood and guts scattered across the roots in a spray of gore.

    Hot blood coated Autumn¡¯s face as she staggered back, stunned by fright and shock.

    Autumn¡¯s hands shook as she continued casting and the Tyrant continued killing. The cries of pain and horror reverberated across the grove amongst the triumphant roars of the king of the swamps and mires. Spears and pole-arms skittered and broke as they tried to find weaknesses or gaps; very few scored wounds in the gaps between thick scales.

    Pyre pushed herself into the fray to aid the wounded. Desperate souls wailed in pain as she poured splashes of healing potion on the worst of the wounds, drawing them back from death¡¯s grip. Autumn discarded her ineffectual assault to aid where she could; her Delay Death providing time for those more versed in the healing arts.

    ¡°Autumn! Hold them down, I need to stitch an artery up first!¡±

    Pyre¡¯s blood-soaked hands clutched tightly to the arm of a thrashing guard. Blood was gushing out in spurts as Autumn rushed over. The guard cried out and bucked as Autumn held them down until she pulsed a blast of fear to freeze them in place; their eyes rolled up till the whites showed as it flooded their mind, but at least they were still.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Again and again the pair rushed about the crumpled bodies in a desperate triage, but many still lay dead despite their best efforts.

    A roar of anger shook Autumn to her bones. Casting a quick glance, she observed the Tyrant standing proudly in the center of the grove, having chased the adventurers and inadvertently disadvantaged itself; the grand, heavy sail upon its back preventing it from turning freely within the cluster of boughs and branches.

    A disadvantage that the bloodied adventurers were keen to exploit.

    In unison they attacked with renewed savagery.

    From above came the Umbra assassins with poisoned blades and from below came heavy axes and piercing spears. Thick black blood ran freely from between scales as blades bit deep while its prided sail was slashed and cut. Ekrus laid into the foreleg of the beast alongside his sons with an unrelenting fury; scales bucked and split under the driving force, halting only when bone caught the wetted blades.

    The tyrant roared once more in a fresh agony. It trashed about seeking to crush, stomp, or bite those waylaying it, but they¡¯d found themselves in spots the beast couldn¡¯t easily reach.

    However, not all were so lucky.

    Arvius¡¯ axe had bit too deep into the Tyrant¡¯s limb and as it thrashed, yanking him off of his feet as he instinctively held onto his weapon. The limb whipped him about until his blood-slick grip slipped and sent him flying. Head over heels, the berserker tumbled until he crashed heavily into a thick tree root, cracking it. Arvius groaned as he tried to stagger to his feet, but the very limb that had sent him flying crushed him back down and when it lifted once more, only a crumpled form and a smear of blood remained.

    Wide, blank eyes stared up at the sky.

    ¡°NOO!!!¡± Captain Ekrus bellowed in anguish and rage.

    The grieving father and weathered adventurer entered a pulsing, blinding rage. He rushed forth to once more savage the wounded limb he¡¯d carved into before. With mighty swings as if he was merely chopping down a tree, he cleaved the Tyrant¡¯s foot from the trunk-like leg; the keen blade of a thousand battles finally cracked as it broke the dragon-beast¡¯s bones.

    With thunderous force that shook the ground and sent them all stumbling, the titanic beast crashed down into the matted roots as its leg no longer supported it. The heavy impact splintered the roots and sent the rocks held between plunging into an endless dark hollow below.

    Shock tempered Autumn¡¯s burgeoning hope as the Tyrant snapped out balefully at Ekrus with lightning-fast speed. A pair of legs stood where the proud warrior and father had once, still pumping lifesblood from the last heartbeat.

    Captain Ekrus was gone, crushed and devoured.

    Fear began suffocating the warriors, almost drowning Autumn in the rush. Bloodshot and wide eyes flickered back and forth as feet began creeping backwards; it¡¯d only take one to flee before they¡¯d all rout. The fear in their hearts was that potent.

    Autumn was no different.

    Closing her eyes, she concentrated on that blanket of fear cloying everyone¡¯s throats. Reaching out with her magic and will, she grasped onto that blanking feeling. Witch Augus had in her tome warned of stealing emotions from others willfully, but right now, if she did nothing, it was likely more would die from the flight; the swamps outside were no less dangerous than in here.

    Exerting a powerful flex of her will and mind, Autumn twisted the fear around herself like a vortex, pulling the horror out of everyone and into her depthless well.

    Pain soured her nose; blood dripped freely as vessels burst under the strain.

    Her mind burned.

    Unbeknown to her, darkness clung to her form like a second skin and her eyes bled black beneath her closed eyelids. All around her darkened form, the shadow of fear retreated from the minds and bodies of the guards and adventurers, allowing courage to take hold in its place. Limbs quelled in their shaking and feet held firm as they ceased their involuntary retreat.

    ¡°Don¡¯t let it off! Surround it! We¡¯ve got it on the ropes!!¡±

    Captain Arsit¡¯s voice cut through the air, jolting the warriors from their inaction. A rising warcry shook off the last of the fear and restored bravery in their hearts alongside the crush of anger and grief. Spears lashed out as arrows sunk into ripped open wounds and blades sought to bring it back low with heavy, bulging strikes to its hamstrings.

    Autumn¡¯s group leapt into the fray where they could; Nethlia doing the heavy work of cracking scales for Nelva to cut into flesh with viper-like strikes. While Edwyn and Pyre aided where they could with their brand of magic, Autumn couldn¡¯t see any sight of Liddie; occasionally she¡¯d get a glimmer of a white-gold blade, but by the time she looked, it was gone.

    With her mind overburdened with the pulse of magic and siphon of fear, it was all she could do to cast her blackcraft into the fray. Splashes of deepest violent violet crashed into the Tyrant, enraging it as the fear crept at the edges of its mind like baying hounds Autumn had heard not all that long ago.

    Wounded and aching, the Tyrant tried to stagger to its remaining limbs as the adventurers savaged it. Ropes wound themselves around the Tyrant¡¯s horns and began pulling its head down against its will. Never had this king of the mires been so hurt, so challenged, so humiliated. Enraged, it pulled against the ropes, and no match for its strength, the adventurers holding them had to let go, lest they too were dragged into its maw.

    Despite the tight crush of the trees surrounding its enormous body, the tyrant twisted in place, tearing the already tattered and torn sail upon its back further. Swinging fast enough to cut the air with a whistle came the beast¡¯s armored, club-like tail. Like a cannonball meeting the deck of a ship, the tail crashed into the side of a tree and sent an explosion of shrapnel splinters scything across the battlefield.

    The air wailed.

    Before Autumn¡¯s wide eyes, they cut ranks of guards and adventurers down as she hastily conjured her magical shield with a ragged scream. She was just in time; a forearm-length splinter hung suspended in the glowing purple field, a bare inch from her face.

    Sweat pooled on Autumn¡¯s forehead from the close call.

    ¡°Pyre? Are you alright¡ª¡±

    Autumn¡¯s voice cut off as she turned to teammate and friend. A spike of wood protruded from the alchemist¡¯s face, carved through her nose and embedded just below her eye, deep within her skull. Blood dripped freely down as wide eyes stared.

    ¡°...Pyre?¡± Autumn whispered.

    A familiar roar of rage drew Autumn¡¯s attention away and she whipped her head back around to the battle.

    Nethlia leapt from the breaking boughs above the Tyrant¡¯s head. In Autumn¡¯s vision, she hung suspended in the golden rays of peeking sunlight like a heroic painting, her war-hammer brought to touch her heels as she bent back. The berserker¡¯s face pulled into an expression of fury; her white fanged grin bared back in a snarl.

    Down she came, like an angel of vengeance.

    The hammer blow struck the Tyrant¡¯s head with a tremendous crash, sending it staggering on already unstable footing and it tumbled onto the roots which let out a deafening ¡®CRACK¡¯...

    ¡­and the floor gave way.

 Chapter Sixty: Down Once More

    Down.

    It was always down. Always falling. Always crashing down into a hungering abyss.

    The rocks and roots fell away from Autumn¡¯s feet as the Tyrant¡¯s heavy bulk broke the fragile ground. Beneath them yawned a lightless well once hidden by a weaved mat of nature and time.

    As her stomach lurched and fell away, Autumn desperately scrambled to cling to the edges of the collapsing ground. It was all for naught. The entire ground buckled and descended into the hungering darkness, dragging all above with it. Down into the darkness that desired the starlight and warmth unveiled suddenly before it.

    Nothing could escape the black maw that swallowed all.

    Whistling wind cut past Autumn as she plummeted and deafened her to the panicked screams about her. Her own stolen as she screamed into the void.

    Darkness growing below and light dying above.

    Naught in her brief arsenal of magic could halt Autumn and she fell ever onward down into the dark. A few others around her were not so limited; they cast flowing magics with song and slowed themselves and others on wings of glow. However, even they couldn¡¯t deny the decent its due. Gravity bore them deeper still, albeit slower than Autumn.

    The lone witch fell with a heart fear-struck and lost to a rapid drumbeat. Her mind drowned in an intoxicating ambrosia of terror.

    Alone once more.

    Time wrenched as the deep dark ate the light and with it the falling bodies and tattered weaponry faded from sight. The light of heaven vanished, fading into a dim point, and eventually succumbed to darkness. A nothingness encapsulated Autumn¡¯s world; her faulting human eyes failing to pierce the dark. Desperate, she clutched to her wand with a bone-white grip.

    Suddenly, without warning, Autumn crashed into a wall of ice-cold water and her mind stuttered at the sudden shock. Like a light-switch being flicked, her mind turned off. Fainted.

    Into a coldly familiar embrace she sank.

    Ice tore at her heat while vengeful tides tossed her limp form from rocky wall to rocky wall, dragging her down narrow underwater tunnels. The young witch¡¯s body bruised against the rocks and a slacken grip lost a wand to the water¡¯s tearing fingers.

    Away it drifted, lost to the dark and cold.

    Autumn consciousness broke back into the world as she cracked against a sharp rock jutting from the tunnel¡¯s wall. Waters rushed into gasping lungs with a chilly fury, filling them to the brim with brackish flavors.

    An unwelcomingly familiar taste.

    Struggling and drowning, Autumn kicked for a surface she could not discern, grasped for ledges she had no sight of. Not in this all-encompassing dark. But in her desperation, be it because of luck, fate, or a story playing unbidden, her fingers clawed upon a lip worn smooth by time. Her fingers became raw and bloody as she clung tight.

    The waters were unhappy, furious even. They snatched at the waterlogged form that dared to defy it.

    It wasn¡¯t to be.

    Autumn heaved herself out of the waters on shaking limbs and onto the rocky shore beyond. Great gouts of water vomited forth from her cracked lips as she cleared her lungs with wracking, painful coughs.

    Exhausted, Autumn lay upon her side. Sodden clothes clung to her fragile frame, shielding underneath the myriad of fresh bruises. Luckily nothing felt broken as she panted and coughed. As the adrenaline faded, shivers dominated her.

    Autumn felt about herself for her wand, having noticed its absence from her hand, but she could not find it.

    ¡°F-u-u-ckk¡± She managed to shiver out through pale lips. ¡°No-o no no!¡±

    On torn hands and knees Autumn searched, but had no luck. Reaching back behind herself, Autumn retrieved her waterlogged pack. It¡¯d somehow survived, albeit worse for wear. An oil-coated torch found its way into Autumn¡¯s hands alongside a flint and tinder.

    After several agonizing tries a bloom of light was born into the cavern, sending dark shadows scurrying back in fright.

    Glancing around, Autumn took in the cavern she¡¯d found herself.

    Cast into the light of the torch was a sprawling cavern coated and overgrown by rot and a multitude of mushrooms of kinds and colors. They grew as towering as trees of the Overworld, a forest all of their own. Some clung to each other in clusters like a city made entirely of fungi, while others stood alone, dominant in their own spaces of death and rebirth. A mist of darkness clung to the edges of the light, and Autumn could see no further.

    Squinting out into the dark, Autumn swung her blazing torch about in search. Turning in place, she spied another soul washed up like her, not that far away from herself. Currently, they lay face down in a puddle of watery red.

    ¡°Hey, are you alright?¡±

    Autumn¡¯s timid and cracked voice bounced around the cavern as she approached the lying figure. Tattered and soaked apparel of a guardsman reflected in the flickering light. The demonkin, judging by the red horns peeking out from limp wet hair, didn¡¯t respond to Autumn¡¯s call nor her approach, even weakly.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Hello?¡±

    No response.

    Autumn stood above the demoness, light pooling down. Gulping down her trepidation, she grasped onto their shoulder and with a heave rolled them over. A horrified gasp ripped clean from Autumn¡¯s abused throat as she beheld the demoness¡¯ face. It was gone, carved inwards by a stray rock in her fall. All that remained was a gaping hole of gore and blood.

    Retching, Autumn scrambled to the side, letting loose whatever was left in her stomach. Not that there was much. She was horrified, a chill running down her spine; it so easily could have been her laying there, face destroyed and life forfeit.

    Alone in the dark.

    Dead.

    The shiver rolled over Autumn¡¯s skin as she dry-retched. However, a wave of relief crested inside of her, much to her shame.

    She was relieved that it wasn¡¯t anyone she knew, anyone she cared about.

    Steeling herself, Autumn turned back to the body. Briefly glancing, she spied a shortsword of iron and bone buckled to their waist. With only a brief hesitation, Autumn relieved them of it and secured it to her own waist. She justified it to herself that they weren¡¯t using it and with the loss of her wand, she needed the reach it provided.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± Autumn rasped. ¡°I-I don¡¯t even know who you are, but I¡¯ll try to let your people know where you fell. I¡­Goodbye, and rest well.¡± From around the dead guardsman¡¯s neck, Autumn retrieved a small amulet, their holy symbol, and tucked it away. A token of proof, one that¡¯d hopefully help put the dead to rest, but she doubted it.

    This place felt devoid of faith and comfort, locked away from the eyes of the gods above.

    Autumn set off with a flaming beacon in one hand and iron in the other.

    Following the river upstream, in mere moments since she¡¯d left, Autumn came across more signs of the battle she¡¯d fought above. Scraps of broken weapons and ruined armor, sundered roots and branches, and mangled bodies littered the rocks.

    So many bodies.

    They lay like scattered dolls, dots of green against the gray. Goblins. The slain horde had fallen in with them as the ground had collapsed and now rested in the under-roots.

    Foul faces frozen in grim scowls.

    With nervous steps, Autumn picked her way across the carpet of the dead. Like the arc of a lighthouse, her torch swept across the mounds in search of familiar faces.

    Perhaps thankfully, she spied naught.

    Cold nipped at her bones as she walked on with echoing steps. The underground was still and chill. She shivered underneath wet clothes that bound tight to her body. Only the held flame kept the sapping cold at bay.

    Autumn listened keenly as she walked. However, all she heard was the sound of her own breath, the beat of her heart, and her timid footsteps amidst the deafening rush of water. Whatever foul creatures of the dark that laid claim to this city of mushrooms and fungi were silent, unnervingly so. Nothing stirred louder than the river¡¯s burble.

    ¡°Fuc-c-k-king creepy-ass p-place.¡±

    Despite her fright and trepidation, Autumn continued on, using anxiety as fuel for courage.

    Holding the flame aloft, she nervously scanned the towering mushrooms around. The bright scythe of light revealed strands of white glistening amidst the stalks. Strung between the towering trunks were great silken spider-webs of intricate make. All manner of sizes dominated the cavern, some even as large as a ship¡¯s sail, maybe even larger. This wasn''t Autumn''s first encounter with such giant-sized webs, but they loomed even creepier in the oppressive darkness.

    As she squinted at them glinting in the torch-light, a prickling sprouted up all over her skin as if a multitude of hidden eyes watched her.

    Ignoring the feeling, she pressed on, burning away the webs in her way.

    Dark shadows watched on in hunger as she fled.

    Time once more felt lost, eaten by the dark. Down here there was a nothingness that dogged her steps. A lightless world of decay.

    How long had she walked?

    It was hard to gauge without a sun to trail her or moons to guide. All she had to rely upon was the dimming of the fire in hand and the increasing ache in her feet; an annoyingly recognizable feeling.

    Autumn¡¯s feet halted.

    Laid out before her was a dense wall of fungi. It stretched tall and wide like a forest of white stalks from the water¡¯s edge off into the darkness that her torch failed to press into. The gaps between the tall growths were thin, barely wider than Autumn herself if she¡¯d press sideways. She could make it through alright, but that wasn¡¯t the thing that alarmed Autumn so. Dusting the tall caps was a heavy powder of spores; even now she spied the musty air was heavy with them. They drifted slowly downward like snowflakes in a windless void.

    Autumn gazed down the long line of stalks that disappeared into the darkness. She was lost, utterly and entirely.

    Story of her life.

    If she braved the dark, moving away from the river¡¯s edge, it was highly likely she¡¯d never find it again.

    Autumn slipped her reasonably bulky pack from her back and removed her sash from her waist to use as a face mask. The fabric was musty, wet, and claustrophobic but it beat a lungful of drifting spores.

    ¡°Alr-right. You can d-do this Autumn.¡±

    With her pack in one hand and torch in the other, Autumn ventured into the towering ¡®woods¡¯. The spongy trunks pressed in tight around her as Autumn sucked in her stomach as best she could.

    It was slow going.

    Step by arduous step, Autumn maneuvered through the maze of fungi. Even with all her care, she could not avoid brushing up against the stalks here and there, sending down a rain of spores to coat her and her hat. The powder irritated the skin where it fell. Fortunately, only a small portion of Autumn''s skin was actually uncovered.

    Her eyes, however, bore the brunt, leaving her teary-eye and in pain.

    Autumn¡¯s improvised mask kept the worst of the pollutant from her lungs, but her every breath came tinged with spikes of pain. A particularly nasty fit left her breathless and lightheaded. Blood beaded on her pale lips.

    With a great gasp of relief, Autumn slipped free from the white forest. Her pained breaths came in wet, ragged coughs from behind her mask. Panicked and in pain, Autumn hastily rushed to the river¡¯s edge, dusted like a snow-clad angel.

    The river''s roar carried away the spores as she carefully washed herself, keeping a keen eye to the water''s greed.

    Mucus mixed with blood splattered into the flow as Autumn hurriedly removed her mask and spat.

    The delicious currents of pain blackened Autumn¡¯s mind to her surroundings. Her soul-splitting hacks and coughs that threatened to disgorge her lungs deafened her to the soft footfalls behind.

    It was too late by the time she realized.

    Hands grasped Autumn¡¯s arms and pulled. Sight watery with pain and tears, all she saw was a smile in the dark before her mind fled once more.

 Chapter Sixty-One: Kitten in a Well

    Watabe Eme, Felis beastkin.

    Eme coughed up a lungful of water as she lay on the rocky shore. Just moments ago, she¡¯d flung herself from the underground river¡¯s grasp.

    Frigid water clung to her fur, wetting it against her skin with an uncomfortable heaviness. She felt like a drowned kitten thrown down a dark well. Her scrambled mind was struggling to come to terms with what had just happened. One moment she was in a desperate battle with a dragon-blood Tyrant of all things, the next moment the ground disappeared and she was falling.

    This was not what she signed up for.

    After coughing up a final lungful of water, Eme looked around herself.

    Her feline eyes flashed in the dark. Being a Felis, Eme thankfully possessed the innate ability to see even in the darkest of places where even the sun and moons dared not to venture.

    Dark wall of a smooth tunnel greeted her. It was strange, as if a massive worm-like beast had carved its way through solid rock. In the few divots and cracks, a varying collection of mushrooms sprouted like rusted nails in a pure gray canvas.

    Turning in place, back the way she¡¯d come, Eme bore witness to the rushing river that¡¯d carried her far down into the Under-roots.

    Eme held in the desire to hiss at it as her ears flattened against her skull.

    It was with luck that she¡¯d turned at that moment. As she was glaring at the black waters she caught sight of a hand floundering for the rocky shore, being torn into by the rapid river.

    Eme pounced like a proverbial cat after a mouse to the water¡¯s edge, grasping onto the hand that was moments from disappearing. Her own slim hands latched tight to the slender wrist. The river¡¯s rage slammed into her immediately and almost tore her back into the depths.

    Eme planted her feet the best she could and tried to haul the figure up. As her muscles strained in protest, she regretted skipping so many training days. In her defense, she thought the most danger she¡¯d be in would be from too many tiny banquet desserts and overly handsy nobles.

    Who would have thought she¡¯d need to pull someone heavier than herself out of a raging river deep underground after almost drowning?

    But haul she did.

    Spluttering and coughing, the drowning figure¡¯s face breached the surface. It was Delight. Eme felt a shock lance up her spine as she recognized her friend. Grunting and groaning, she pulled with renewed strength.

    From the brackish waters, the Inferni dancer emerged. Feeling the air on her face, she croaked out to her rescuer. ¡°Help!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Eme grunted back.

    ¡°Eme?! Is that you?! Pull me up!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m trying!¡± Eme complained as she struggled to pull her heavier friend out of the clutches of the river. Her feet constantly slipped on the slick, smooth rock that made up the water¡¯s edge. ¡°You¡¯re too heavy~¡±

    ¡°Shut up and pull!¡± Delight yelled back in indignation and fear.

    Eventually, with much struggle, Eme pulled Delight free of the frigid water¡¯s tight grasp. She swore it grew fiercer as they grew closer to escape, but escape they did. The sound of the waves crashing on the stone at their retreat sounded like foul curses to Eme. She just chalked it up to an exhausted delirium.

    Collapsing onto the wet ground, Eme¡¯s heart continued a terrified rhythm as she desperately inhaled great gouts of stale air into her complaining lungs. Her arms shook with an ache as she lay there beside her rescued friend.

    Tiredly, Eme glanced over to take in the pitiful state of her friend. The grasping fingers of the icy river had robbed the dancer of most of her gear. Gone was her outerwear; the heavy coat she¡¯d worn to keep the chill at bay was nowhere to be seen, likely it was still traversing the underground waterways. This left the poor demoness in only her thin and almost shear dancers attire. The soaked material clung tightly to her lithe form and left little to the imagination.

    Tearing her gaze away, Eme took in her own miserable state.

    Most of Eme¡¯s gear was likewise gone. Somewhere in her tumble through the tunnels she¡¯d lost her raincoat and pack, alongside all the gear within. What was far more worrying was the loss of her drums. While she wasn¡¯t the best song-caster, without her drums she¡¯d not be able to cast even the simplest of her spells.

    Eme cast a desperate look about the tunnel where they¡¯d come from, but all she saw was the river. It lapped at the shore almost mockingly.

    ¡°Eme?¡± Delight croaked out as she finished coughing water from her lungs. ¡°Are you still there?¡± There was an unfamiliar tremble in the dancer¡¯s voice. Her eyes blinked uselessly as she squinted into the darkness around that gnawed like vermin at the edges of vision.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    ¡°I¡¯m here.¡±

    Eme reached out her hand to her friend, clasping theirs reassuringly. Delight clung to the proffered hand like a beggar would a discarded gold. Eme¡¯s bones creaked painfully and she winced despite herself. The dancer looked rough. Gone was the self-assured swagger that accompanied her to many a ballroom and banquet. It was replaced by wide unseeing eyes and cracked lips.

    ¡°W-where are we? Can you see anything?¡± Delight asked, her voice a rare quiver.

    Eme shook her head. It took an awkward moment for her to remember that her friend could not see as she could.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. All I remember is falling when that Dragon-blood broke the ground. What the fuck is going on Delight?! Th-this isn¡¯t what I signed up for! Captain never said we¡¯d be fighting like that. She said it was just going to be a few nights out in the mire. Deal with a couple of goblins. Ancestors! There was so much blood.¡±

    Eme¡¯s body shook with the lingering vestiges of adrenaline and fear. She gripped her head tight with trembling paws, her claws hooking into her hair.

    ¡°Fuck. I don¡¯t know either, Eme.¡± Delight swore with a rough voice. ¡°Do you see anything around us? I can¡¯t find my pack and I¡¯m fucking freezing.¡±

    Another glance around revealed nothing new.

    ¡°No, all I see is a tunnel. The walls are very smooth and I don¡¯t see an end to it. I can¡¯t tell how far it goes, but it¡¯s the only way; the river¡¯s too dangerous. Do¡­do you have any idea where we are or where to go?¡±

    ¡°Do I look like I wander about underground in my off time?!¡± Delight huffed. The sound of her raised voice echoed down the tunnel. Both adventurers paused in fright as they listened intently. They stayed silent for a few agonizing seconds before it became clear nothing had heard them or at least didn¡¯t reply.

    ¡°Sorry.¡± The pair apologized at the same time.

    In an effort to avoid the awkward air, Eme picked herself up and held an arm out to Delight to help her. ¡°Well, we might as well get going. No way to go but forwards. Right?¡±

    It took a few awkward moments for Eme to remember again that Delight was effectively blind down here in the dark. Reaching down, she grasped the dancer¡¯s hand with her own and hauled her to her feet. Delight only lightly grumbled at the act seeing as she could not see herself. Eme¡¯s arms groaned at the action, surging with pain as she pulled her friend up. It took all her effort not to groan or comment on Delight¡¯s weight.

    It wouldn¡¯t help to set the demoness off again.

    Hand in hand, the pair set off down the unnaturally smooth tunnel.

    Only the sound of their cautious footfalls accompanied the bardic pair as they began a long march into the bowels of the earth. The steps echoed down the monstrous borehole like a crier¡¯s bell. Eme feared any notion of stealth was laughable.

    Occasionally, luminescent mushrooms that sporadically dotted the tunnel¡¯s cracks would pierce the darkness, but they were few and far between. Only brief moments of lighted clarity shone before the dark ate it all once more.

    Delight was not doing well. Her sole forced reliance on Eme¡¯s guidance was weathering her mind and drawing a sense of tension into their conjoined hands. Every imagined whisper or echo in the creeping darkness had her gripping the poor Felis¡¯ hand ever tighter.

    Eme winced once more as Delight squeezed tight.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Delight¡¯s voice was a harsh whisper in the dark, and she drew Eme to a halt with a harsh tug as she spoke. By now, the pair had walked for what felt like hours. Who could truly know down here in the cold underworld? Eme felt like she had wandered into a desolate afterlife with a paranoid burden in tow. Not that she¡¯d tell Delight that to her face¡­at least not yet. Maybe if she kept crushing her hand she might.

    ¡°What!¡± Eme hissed back, perhaps harsher than she¡¯d intended.

    Delight was unperturbed, her wide eyes straining fearfully in the dark. ¡°Did you hear that? It sounds like¡­crying?¡±

    Eme was ready to discard Delight¡¯s words, as the dancer had said she¡¯d heard such nonsense many times during their long trek, but just as she was about to deny her, she heard it as well. Her feline ears atop her head flickered towards the darkness.

    There it sounded: a weeping in the deep.

    It was deep and mournful. That of someone savoring regret and loss. Brassy sobs tingled at the edge of hearing and sent Eme¡¯s fur prickling.

    ¡°Eme!¡± Delight hissed-whispered in her ear once more.

    Eme grunted in annoyance. ¡°I hear it.¡±

    The sound swept through the tunnel like a haunting melody. A dirge. No matter how hard she strained with her feline ears, Eme couldn¡¯t pick out the voice from anyone she knew. Then again she¡¯d rarely heard people weeping so.

    ¡°What should we do?¡± Delight asked, breaking Eme¡¯s trance.

    Eme bit her lip in thought.

    ¡°How likely is it that it¡¯s just one of the others? Perhaps they got washed down a tunnel ahead of us?¡±

    Delight leveled a disbelieving look upon Eme in the dark.

    ¡°Yeah, sure. The creepy crying is just one of our friends. Haven¡¯t you listened to any adventure horror stories? Anyway, it¡¯s not like we have much of a choice; it¡¯s coming from the way we have to go. Unless you see any other paths?¡±

    Eme shook her head. ¡°Nope.¡±

    Steeling themselves, the pair of world-weathered bards crept closer to the sound of weeping in the dark. The sound was a cancer, growing in their consciousness as their echoing steps led them ever closer to this plague of melancholy. This tragedy of sound.

    The dark embrace had them now.

    Just as the crying grew to the point it rattled Eme¡¯s teeth, they sighted that which was responsible.

    An oasis of light shone down from the softly glowing mushrooms to alight upon the thick, muscular form of a naked, masculine figure. The man sat on his haunches, a mournful gaze hidden away from sight by his strong back, yet those broad shoulders shook with a heavy weight. Like a halo, a mane of thick black hair shone in the light as it rested atop bronze-colored skin. Eme¡¯s keen eyes caught a last detail; laying limp in the shadows cast by the man¡¯s broad form was a long cat-like tail ending in a tuft of black fur.

    Disappointment flooded Eme. Despite knowing it was a long shot, she still had hoped it was someone they knew. Someone they could trust.

    Before she could even start thinking of a strategy for this new obstacle, Delight clumsily tripped behind her as she shuffled nervously in place. The sound of rocks tumbling echoed down the tunnel and the crying stopped.

    Eme froze in fear as the figure turned its head to face them, staring at them unbothered by the darkness.

    ¡°Who goes there?¡±

 Chapter Sixty-Two: Donestre

    Watabe Eme, Felis beastkin.

    ¡°Who goes there?¡±

    The voice that called out to the fright-frozen pair was soft and friendly. A strange note given the dark circumstances they¡¯d found themselves in. It rang even stranger still when Eme caught sight of the mein that issued it. Cast in the soft light of the glowing mushrooms was a man that bore the head of a lion, whiskers and all.

    What Eme had mistaken for a head of wild mane-like hair was in fact an actual mane that proudly, if a bit matted, ringed the lion-man¡¯s head. Above a thick nose golden a pair of leonine eyes stared out at them, still glittering with crystalline tears.

    ¡°Be not afraid, lost ones. Come greet me and I you.¡±

    The leonine man rose from his crouch and stood tall in the light, casting a shadow on the path that lay behind him. His broad body hid from sight whatever he¡¯d been mourning. And what a body it was. Eme¡¯s face burned with embarrassment as the sight of an impressive manhood greeted her. She didn¡¯t even know they came in that size, not that she was interested, you see; it was primarily an academic interest.

    While Eme hastily looked anywhere else but between his powerful thighs, Delight did not. Her eyes locked onto the beastman¡¯s mighty weapon with interest and cautious hunger.

    All throughout their staring, either frightened or admiring, the lion-man remained unmoving, save for the slow sway of his tail or the occasional flicker of his ears.

    Eme, as the least aesthetically compromised, took it upon herself to address the lion-man. Exiting the darkness, the pale light exposed the desolate condition of her clothing. Embarrassed, she persevered and tried to look the lion-man in the eyes.

    Her neck hurt.

    ¡°M-my name is Watabe Eme of the Wise Cavaliers, a-a gold-rank adventure troop. Behind me is another member of my team, Delight.¡± Delight gave a flirtatious wave, ¡°Might I ask who you are, and what you are doing here?¡± Eme¡¯s voice was like the mewl of a kitten as it shook with cold and fear.

    The lion-man blinked slowly before replying.

    ¡°I greet you Watabe-san. This one is named Bahram, and as for what I am doing here? I am a wanderer, like all my people.¡± The lion-man smiled sadly at the pair.

    Eme¡¯s fur stood on end as the man spoke. Ivory stalactites and mites gleamed in the dark every time he opened his mouth. A predator¡¯s jaw.

    ¡°W-what exactly are you? I¡¯ve n-never seen someone like you before. Surely, if your people were wandering the empire, we¡¯d have at least heard of you?¡± Eme questioned, keeping herself still just in the light¡¯s grace.

    Bahram smiled sadly.

    ¡°Perhaps you are not looking? I¡¯m not surprised by your ignorance of my peoples, we¡¯ve wandered these lonely tunnels for a generation or more. Even when we roamed the above, we¡¯d yet to find a home for ourselves.¡± Bahram gave a small, sad smile. ¡°Sometimes I wonder if we¡¯re cursed to roam forever. As for a name? We¡¯ve no need for one; do you call your family by their race? Those are things others give you and we have long forgotten what foulness others bestowed upon us.¡±

    Bahram¡¯s calm voice and friendly demeanor had a soothing effect on the pair. Eme could feel herself loosening, the tension in her shoulders fleeing, but something still felt off to her.

    Perhaps it was simply a Felis¡¯ natural reaction to being around a larger predator, or maybe it was something more?

    Either way, it was Delight who furthered the conversation. Seeing as the atmosphere had calmed somewhat, she extricated herself from behind Eme and approached closer to Bahram. Gone was the cowering girl of before and in its place came a force of refined sexuality and confidence. Somehow, Delight made the thin and wet attire clinging to her form seem like a choice of style.

    It made Eme both amused and frustrated in her own bedraggled state.

    Delight stopped just a few feet from the lion-man. Wrenching her eyes away from his muscular body she beamed up at him.

    ¡°Hi,¡± she chirped, ¡°my name¡¯s Delight, as you heard before. I must say, I¡¯ve never met someone of your¡ª¡± her eyes flickered downwards briefly, ¡°¡ª¡®stature¡¯ before. Call me impressed.¡±

    As she finished talking, Delight held out a demure hand to Bahram.

    Amused, the lion-man seized her hand in his massive paws, each one easily able to wrap around Delight¡¯s twice over. He shook hers with a gentleness belied by his giant form.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure,¡± Bahram rumbled, sending a shockwave through Delight¡¯s form. Whether that was from the sheer force of his voice or from Delight¡¯s own shiver of anticipation and desire, Eme didn¡¯t know nor want to.

    Cautiously, Eme followed in her friend¡¯s wake and approached despite her instincts screaming.

    When Delight had finally recovered from Bahram¡¯s handshake, she cleared her throat and spoke once more.

    ¡°You said before that you live down here? Does that mean you know a way to the surface? Me and my friend are a little lost, you see, and I¡¯d greatly appreciate it if you¡¯d help us out~¡±

    Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Delight fluttered her bright eyes up at Bahram. Eme just rolled her eyes.

    Either Bahram hadn¡¯t noticed Delight¡¯s flirtation or just had a truly great Adventurer¡¯s Gambit face, as throughout the conversation he maintained his look of mournful friendliness. When Delight finished talking, he blinked softly before speaking in his soft timber once more.

    ¡°The surface? I know the way.¡±

    Delight¡¯s face lit up. ¡°You do?! It¡¯d be wonderful if you could show us the way! Please~¡±

    Bahram smiled. ¡°Certainly, but the honor and hospitality of my people compels me to offer you gifts for your journey. Food, water, clothing, anything, just ask and it is yours.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Delight smirked. ¡°Anything?¡±

    With one hand, Delight reached low and wrapped a hand around his mighty ¡®weapon¡¯, failing to encircle it completely. She squeezed.

    ¡°What if what I want is this?¡±

    ¡°Delight!¡± Eme exclaimed, scandalized. Upon realizing what she was looking at, Eme averted her gaze to his backside¡ªNo wait!¡ªto behind him. Eme¡¯s face burned with embarrassment.

    Yet as she gazed at his toned butt¡ªbehind¡ªto the space behind him, she saw something laying in the shadows. It was too dark in the lion-man¡¯s shadow to clearly determine what it was. To her it looked like a rock laying in the middle of the tunnel, however, she¡¯d not seen such in her travels as the tunnel was remarkably clear of large stones.

    Eme crept closer, aiming to edge around Bahram.

    The lion-man¡¯s eyes watched her move, yet he did not move to block her. He just watched on with sad, melancholic eyes.

    Turning back to Delight, who still held onto his mighty ¡®weapon¡¯, he spoke with a calmness, his eyes unwavering as they bore into Delight¡¯s. ¡°If it¡¯s I you wish for, it¡¯s I you¡¯ll have.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful~¡± Delight purred.

    Languidly stroking her hand back and forth, Delight called out to Eme. ¡°Honey, would you mind giving me and Bahram some privacy for 15¡ªno 30 minutes¡ªan hour? Just go away and cover your ears for a bit, would you?¡±

    Not hearing a response, Delight turned annoyed and confused to her Felis friend.

    ¡°Eme? Did you hear me? Unless you want to listen to me¡­fucking¡­this¡­lion-man¡ª¡± Delight trailed off as she finally looked at Eme.

    The Felis bard stood frozen in the shadow of the somber lion-man, gazing wide-eyed and pale down at the rock she¡¯d found. Yet as Delight looked at it in the pale light, she too saw that it was not, in fact, a rock, but the head of their bardic friend G¨¦r?me.

    Eme stared, disbelieving. Just hours ago, they¡¯d been laughing together. Now only his head lay before her, face twisted in a rictus of horror and pain. On careful inspection, she observed that his neck was torn and mangled, as if sharp teeth had gnawed it off.

    The passage beyond was slick with gore. Blood coated the walls and floor while scraps of cloth and broken weapons lay in a grim pile.

    Delight froze in fright, far too aware of her proximity to the beastman. Gazing back at him, they saw fresh tears crystallizing in his mournful leonine eyes.

    ¡°I am truly sorry.¡± He whispered to her before he bit.

    Eme watched on in stunned horror as Delight¡¯s shoulder disappeared into the lion-man¡¯s maw. Massive gleaming white teeth were stained red as they tore through muscle and bone. Delight screamed as the pain hit. She tried to free herself using the leverage she already had, twisting and wrenching on his manhood, but it was for naught; the beastman only grunted in pain before snatching her hand away.

    Delight¡¯s screams woke Eme from her frightened trance.

    ¡°Delight!¡± Eme screamed.

    Rushing over to the entangled pair, Eme leapt onto Bahram¡¯s back. Unarmed as she was, she lay into his face with her keen claws, aiming to blind the man and force him to relinquish his hold on her friend. Streaks of red scored the leonine face as she fought with a desperate fury.

    With frightening speed, Bahram grasped Eme¡¯s upper arm within his massive clawed paw and flung her away, unconcerned with the stinging lines she left behind in her flight.

    Eme tumbled through the air, rolling over and over, before coming to a stop courtesy of the far wall. Pain flared brightly as she bounced, coming finally to rest on the rocky floor.

    Coughing in pain, blood splattering, Eme tried her best to rise once more. She pressed her hands to the ground and pushed, only to crash back down on her face. Moaning, she looked confused over to her right arm that¡¯d failed her. Eme stared at where her arm used to be. From her right bicep down, it was gone; a sharp claw having carved clean through muscle and bone.

    Blood ran freely onto the dark stone.

    ¡°My arm.¡± Eme muttered in shock.

    ¡°EME! HELP ME!¡±

    Delight¡¯s screams of mortal terror echoed down the tunnels. Looking over, Eme saw that she too had lost an arm, only hers was being devoured.

    She was being eaten alive.

    Faced with the raw strength the lion-man held, she could not free herself. Her powers were useless without her being able to move; to dance.

    Frightened orange eyes locked onto Eme¡¯s wide ones.

    ¡°EME!!! Help me! Get it off me!¡±

    Eme forced herself to her unstable feet with one arm. She took in the sight of her best and near only friend being eaten alive, her own arm lying discarded on the ground like a piece of refuse. With all her bravery and courage, Eme mustered herself¡­and ran.

    She fled.

    The sight of her friend disappearing into the darkness shocked Delight so much she almost forgot she was fighting for her life. As fresh pain lanced into her she screamed after the fleeing catgirl. ¡°EME!!! DON¡¯T LEAVE ME. COME BACK!!¡±

    Eme kept running. She didn¡¯t look back. Not that¡¯d she have seen much with the tears blocking her sight. But that didn¡¯t stop her from hearing. Even flattening her ears to her skull didn¡¯t block out the sounds, the crunch of bone, the splatter of blood, the screams of pain, and Delight¡¯s pleading calls.

    ¡°Come back, Eme! Help me, I don¡¯t want to die, please! Eme! Please!¡±

    Over and over she yelled into the dark as the beast ate her. The screams dogged Eme¡¯s heels as she stumbled through the dark tunnel. Tears now fell as free as the blood of her arm; every step sent a splattering trail onto the ground.

    Eme was growing faint.

    She stopped a moment, leaning heavily on the cool stone wall. With tooth and claw, she tore a long strip from her shirt and wrapped it around her arm, tying it tight as she was taught to. Tight so that the blood-loss would cease or at least slow.

    Deep down, Eme knew she was fucked, but the fright kept her moving.

    Kept her going deeper into the darkness of the world.

    The screams behind her grew softer and softer as she grew further and further away, but they still lasted agonizingly long. Eme screwed her face up in grief as they finally stopped.

    And in the mournful quiet the mournful sobbing began again. Eme¡¯s eyes opened wide as she realized it was coming from all around her.

    She ran.

 Chapter Sixty-Three: Survival Mode Added

    Nethlia, Inferni

    Solid iron met a leonine skull at the apex of a brutal swing.

    Nethlia ignored the beast-man¡¯s howl of agony as she swung again. With tremendous force powered by her all-encompassing fury, she crashed her weapon into her foe¡¯s head again. The blow swept him off his feet to crash down into a pile of tangled limbs and pained whimpering on the rocky ground.

    As the bestial man tried to rise, his blood-shot eyes looked up, only to be confronted by a furious pole-hammer and a deafening roar.

    A splatter. A crunch. Then silence.

    Nethlia heaved her weapon free of the skull with a grunt. Her hot breath steamed in the cold, stale air of the cavern as her body radiated a hearth¡¯s worth of rage¡¯s heat.

    It felt like she¡¯d been fighting for hours by now.

    At first, the lion-headed men had come open-armed and friendly. With silvered tongues that spoke fluent Infernal, they offered the gift of aid, of sanctity and guidance in these dark, lost tunnels. Their words were soft and placid, but spoken in a strange melancholy that set Nethlia¡¯s instincts alight with caution.

    Their aid was rejected.

    It was then that the beast-men revealed their true colors.

    They became aggressive.

    With unbelievable strength and sharp claws, they fought like the beasts they took after. By the time the last of them fell to blade and hammer, many adventurers and guardsmen lay wounded or dead.

    Nethlia grimaced as she stretched out her aching limbs; her joints cracking and muscles seizing as she did so. A particularly stiff muscle in her neck locked up, sending a lance of pain skittering down her arm as it pinched on a nerve.

    Hissing in pain, she turned her back on the rapidly cooling corpse at her feet and took in the dark surroundings, only highlighted by the flicker of torchlight that betrayed their camp.

    Spread out before her was a dark lake, glittering like a field of diamonds as it reflected the watch fires. It sat imposingly large within the cavern, like a great sea hidden away. Even if one could see in this darkness, they¡¯d fail to spot an end to it. It was as if the lake was the edge of the world.

    It very well could be for all anyone knew.

    Somewhere high above was a pinprick of fading light: the place they¡¯d fallen.

    Or that could just be an illusion cast by the warping dark.

    Who could tell?

    Nethlia¡¯s eyes were naturally drawn to a dark shape, enormous in size, lying half submerged in the black lake. The Tyrant lay dead in the surf, bleeding out into the waters, dyeing them red with the sheer weight of blood. All across its bulk ran lengths of ropes and nets, as adventurers scurried across like ants as they hacked apart the great bounty of hides and meat.

    Even from her position at the ¡®gates¡¯ of their camp, Nethlia could smell the intoxicating scent of roasting meats. The scent filled the air, most likely adding to the intensity and frequency of attacks by the local population, but it was a necessary risk; they needed all the preserved meat they could get.

    The longer they could go without resorting to eating the lion-men, the better.

    Was it still considered cannibalism if they were of different races?

    Nethlia shook off the errant thought.

    A pair of guardsmen gave Nethlia a look of wary respect as they passed her, heading to clear the corpses she¡¯d left behind. Other members of the Duskguard who¡¯d survived stood watch atop a hastily constructed and ramshackle barricade of roots, branches, and driftwood. As she passed through the gate¨Creally just a gap in the walls¨Cshe nodded to them and they nodded back, if a tad cautiously.

    There was still tension in the air, born of their late captain''s actions.

    Actions that the adventurers nor herself had forgotten, but in light¨Chah¨Cof their current predicament, they shelved the grudge. At least for now.

    Nethlia ignored their looks as she allowed her aching feet to take her through a meandering path of tents and rocks. Despite stumbling over three tent lines, she made it to her destination without issue.

    The center of camp was dominated by a relatively clear area, only a large tent occupied this space. From it emitted the sour stretch of blood and death alongside the cries and howls of those in pain as the few healers still standing tended to them. Occasionally, a pair of somber and grim faced adventurers would carry out an unmoving body to be placed alongside others in condemningly silent rows.

    Nethlia¡¯s gaze lingered on the dead for a moment before she turned back to the tent.

    Standing just outside of the entrance in deep conversation with one of the healers was an exhausted-looking Captain Arsit. Despite her blood-covered arms, the older Lepus woman stood with crossed arms, either oblivious or indifferent.

    Facing the captain, she gruffly spoke.

    ¡°No matter how many times you ask, my answer won''t change: I can¡¯t heal them any faster.¡±

    Captain Arsit¡¯s voice cracked with tiredness and wear. ¡°What exactly is the problem?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s this place, somehow it¡¯s blocking our connection to the Goddess¡¯ light. It¡¯s as if we are walking in the domain of another deity, but if we are, it¡¯s not one I recognize.¡±

    The captain rubbed at his tired eyes. ¡°That is troubling. At least tell me we have enough supplies. I know we lost a lot of gear in the fall.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    The healer¡¯s gruff demeanor softened as she took in the captain¡¯s exhausted state. He, like Nethlia, had been pushing himself to the limit for hours. However, unlike her, who just hit things really hard, had to manage the defense of the camp, retrieval of supplies and personnel from the lake, organize the butchering of the Tyrant, and keep people¡¯s morale from falling too low.

    So many of their friends were either missing or dead, Nethlia¡¯s included. Keeping busy was the only thing staving off the panic and grief.

    The healer spoke softer now. ¡°We¡¯ve enough supplies for now and the Goddess isn¡¯t cut off fully. Thankfully, that healer-bard of Gilralei¡¯s team survived and we¡¯ve collected up as many healing potions as we could. For now, the worst of the wounded are stable, but we might have to decide who to prioritize soon.¡±

    The weight of command settled itself over the poor man¡¯s features, aging him a few decades in an instant. His eyes flickered over to Nethlia as he noticed her approach. Drawing in a solemn breath that filled his form, he spoke quietly but with a finality.

    ¡°Do it. Try to keep as many alive as possible, but focus on getting as many people on their feet as you can.¡±

    The older woman nodded sharply before turning to leave. She gave Nethlia a curt nod as she entered the triage tent, disappearing into the blood-soaked gloom.

    Nethlia¡¯s eyes lingered on her disappearing back before she wretched them to the other captain. ¡°Problems?¡± she asked.

    Captain Arsit grunted tiredly. ¡°Healing¡¯s shot. Or so they said. So, don¡¯t get hurt.¡±

    The captain¡¯s words were filled with a sardonic heat that wasn¡¯t lost on Nethlia. Already she could feel the aches and pains creeping up on her, making her slower and slower.

    Her arm still tingled with fuzzy pain.

    ¡°Nothing I can¡¯t handle.¡±

    Nethlia didn¡¯t know if she believed her own words, let alone if the other captain did. Thankfully, he didn¡¯t call her out on it. Eager to change the conversation, she latched onto a tidbit of information she¡¯d overheard.

    ¡°What¡¯s this about another deity?¡±

    Captain Arsit shifted in place as his eyes sought to pierce the black lingering at the edge of the torch light. He grunted.

    ¡°No idea. Supposably the darkness is blocking out their connections. It¡¯s too ¡®thick¡¯, too clingy. In their words, not mine.¡± His eyes shifted back to Nethlia. ¡°Best keep this to ourselves. No need to cause a panic right now.¡±

    Nethlia nodded.

    Silence like a drumbeat lingered in between them as Nethlia chewed on her next words. It was like there was a lump in her throat, a boulder of anxiety and fear that she could not move no matter how hard she pushed. With a pure force of will she dragged them up and they tumbled out.

    ¡°And Pyre? Is she¡­?¡±

    Even so she could not finish. Nethlia felt like she¡¯d jumped feet first off a cliff and left her consciousness behind.

    Captain Arsit gave her a complicated, hesitant look as if he was balancing hope with expectation. A look that settled onto the veteran¡¯s face with unwelcome familiarity.

    ¡°She''s alive, for now, but her prognosis isn¡¯t good. The healers extracted the wood from her skull and healed her the best they could, but the fall and cold have complicated matters. They don¡¯t know if she¡¯ll ever wake up. I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Something broke inside Nethlia. It shattered like a rock through a pane of glass. A tense jaw was all that belied that fact as she stared a hole in the leather of the tent.

    Once more she¡¯d failed.

    It was only the guidance of luck that led her to spot the dying ember of flaming hair in the dark water.

    ¡°And the others?¡±

    Captain Arsit sighed. He¡¯d been doing that a lot lately.

    ¡°No sign of anyone else. The last headcount put us at just under half our original number. Captain Gilralei is down to just herself and Ralkik, her healer. Two of the Red Scorpions are unaccounted for, however, given their skill-set I don¡¯t think they¡¯ve perished. Captain Xiltuil is currently out searching the underwater tunnels.¡±

    ¡°What of the Duskguard and Rain Knights? I¡¯ve seen a few at the perimeter, but I¡¯ve not got a good count.¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°They suffered the worst of it.¡± Captain Arsit¡¯s eyes shifted to the rows of silent dead. ¡°Most of the Rain Knights are dead; drowned under the weight of their armor. Of the Duskguard who survived, they did so by abandoning most of their gear, so we¡¯ve got more bodies than weapons.¡±

    ¡°On a more positive note, we won¡¯t be hurting for meat in a while.¡± He nodded toward the Tyrant being butchered. ¡°We¡¯ve got enough to feed a city. If we can smoke enough of it before the locals catch on, we¡¯ll be set on that front.¡±

    ¡°For those of us less carnivorously inclined, we¡¯ll need to ration carefully. I don¡¯t know what kind of flora grows in this place. Less so what is edible.¡±

    A rush of air escaped the captain. It took Nethlia a moment to realize it was a laugh¡ªa huff of some dark amusement.

    At her raised brow the other captain sought to explain his amused exhalation.

    ¡°Dragon-blood meat is worth twice its weight in gold. If we¡¯d killed it on the surface, all this meat would be bound for the capital at a premium price. Now we¡¯ll be eating away at our profits, but dining better than even the empress herself. I just found that amusing. Forgive me. I¡¯m rather tired, it seems.¡±

    Nethlia snorted.

    ¡°That is funny. Any other time, I¡¯d be down there too, salivating over what to cook first.¡±

    The silence descended on them once more, lingering like a bad smell. Nethlia¡¯s heartbeat sounded louder than war-drums in her ears as she stared out into the gloom that drank the light. She tried to swallow down the anxiety stuck in her throat to little avail.

    Clearing her throat, Nethlia gestured to the medical tent. ¡°Do you mind if I check on my girl? I won¡¯t get in the way, will I?¡±

    Captain Arsit shook his head.

    ¡°Go ahead. They moved her to the side as soon as she was stable, so you won¡¯t get in the way much. Do try not to get on Josseline¡¯s nerves too much; she¡¯s already under a lot of stress as it is.¡±

    Nethlia thanked the captain before entering the tent, ducking habitually under the low¨Cat least for her¨Cceiling.

    A cramped interior greeted her, just as she expected. To each side of the tent ran rows of wounded men and women in varying states of injury. Bandages wrapped hastily around grievous, ragged wounds had turned scarlet. The acrid smell of medicine and blood filled the air in a miasmic haze alongside the moans and cries of the wounded, begging and crying for aid or relief.

    Even the most stoic of them could not simply bite their teeth as they clutched at the horrid, oozing wounds.

    Nethlia pushed past the sights with practiced ease, all the while searching for her teammate. She found the young alchemist nestled within the non-critical wounded¡ªthose too injured to fight, but not injured enough to require extra healing.

    As Nethlia knelt she took in the wounded girl.

    Pyre looked tiny, swallowed up by the bandages and blankets. The girl¡¯s pale face was wrapped up tight in red-stained bandages. Not a scrap of the horrid injury could be seen, but Nethlia could remember the brief glimpse she¡¯d seen as she rescued the young Ingis Lutum.

    The shaft of splintered wood had entered just below the right eye-socket into her cheek, shattering the bone there and near ripping her nose clean off.

    Even if the natural hot-running girl survived the cold that ravaged her body, she¡¯d likely never recover properly from this wound; she¡¯d bear the scars forever. Nethlia was unaware of any spells or potions that could fix such scars.

    Maybe Autumn could do it? Or even Pyre herself could whip something up?

    Nethlia held Pyre¡¯s hand tight. The smaller hand disappeared into her larger ones.

    ¡°Hey. Enough sleeping girl. We¡¯ve a group to find, they¡¯re out there waiting on us.¡±

    Only soft, shallow breathing was her reply.

    A whisper so quiet that even ghosts wouldn¡¯t hear it escaped a pair of red, bitten lips.

    ¡°Come on Pyre, wake up. I can¡¯t do this alone.¡±

    Silence.

 Chapter Sixty-Four: A Rude Wake Up

    Autumn awoke to a burning in her lungs. To the feeling as if a thousand ants had crawled down her throat and bit over and over. It ached an impossible amount. From her raw and scoured throat ripped free a great, ragged coughing.

    Suddenly, a powerful feminine arm wrapped around Autumn¡¯s back and raised her up into a sitting position. Placed before her lips was a bowl of bitter smelling medicine.

    ¡°Here, drink this. It¡¯ll help soothe your throat.¡± A gentle voice urged Autumn.

    The medicine tasted just as bitter as it smelled. Autumn choked it down at the urging of the woman beside her. It coated her tongue and throat like tar, but as it did so, the stinging taste of pain faded away into a wave of blessed relief. And with the horrid pain subsided, Autumn transformed back into a thinking and functioning human once more.

    Looking about, she found herself in a small tent lit only by the blue glow of a magical lantern hanging overhead. The blue glow bathed the woman beside her in a gentle light.

    Surprise colored Autumn¡¯s features as she recognized her savior.

    Leshana Lauren; the Silvan Elven bard.

    The strikingly beautiful Elven woman sat upon her heels, crouched down beside Autumn¡¯s bedside. A pair of almond-shaped golden eyes were full of kindness and warmth as they sat upon skin the color of warm bark. Dark green hair the color of eternal leaves lay secured within a long braid that was held by a cage of twigs resembling steel. The Elf had shaved the sides of her head, allowing a set of long, graceful ears the freedom to twitch at sounds only she could hear.

    To Autumn¡¯s mild despair, she noted that although both of them had undergone the same harrowing journey through this twisting underworld; the Elf looked undiminished by the dirt and blood that spotted her skin and outfit. In fact, it only accentuated her ethereal grace.

    In a cruel juxtaposition, Autumn looked like a homeless vagabond.

    While Autumn¡¯s mind was lost lamenting the beauty of Elfs, Leshana placed a cool hand to Autumn¡¯s forehead. The stark difference in temperature between the two shocked Autumn and brought to her attention just how hot she felt, not to mention how sweaty.

    After a silent moment, Leshana removed her hand.

    ¡°It looks like your fever has broken. That¡¯s good. You were running quite high for a few hours. How are you feeling? Those were some nasty spore clouds you walked through.¡±

    Her voice was like a soft melody.

    It took Autumn an awkwardly long time to realize she was being spoken to; her fuzzy waking mind taking its sweet time in rebooting. Flushing, Autumn tried to reply hastily, but thanks to a numb tongue, only a tumble of slurred words came forth, adding a new mortification to her already embarrassed state.

    Luckily, she could hide her reddened face beneath her witch¡¯s hat.

    A sympathetic chime-like giggle escaped Leshana.

    At Autumn¡¯s aggrieved stare she clarified.

    ¡°Sorry. I didn¡¯t mean to laugh. The numbing effect of the medicine only lasts a few minutes; I¡¯ve suffered through it myself. Your voice should recover in no time, but it¡¯ll take a while to fully recover as those spores like to stick to the inside of the lungs. If not treated properly, they¡¯ll grow and we don¡¯t want that. Trust me.¡±

    Autumn paled at that horrifying imagery.

    ¡°I know Gilralei introduced us before, but seeing as this is the first time we are properly meating let me introduce myself. I¡¯m Lashana Lauren of the Everblooms.¡±

    Leshana held out her hand in a vaguely handshake-like gesture, but from how she held her hand at an angle, Autumn guessed it was more a forearm to forearm gesture. Taking the gamble she grasped the Elven woman¡¯s arm and introduced herself.

    ¡°Witch Autumn, currently of Duskfields.¡± Autumn rasped out, her voice rough like sandpaper.

    If Leshana took any note of the ¡®currently¡¯ part, she did not either mind it or just kept it to herself, only clasping Autumn¡¯s arm gently before releasing it.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure, even in current circumstances. There are a couple of others out by the fire, but I¡¯ll let them introduce themselves to you. Oh, and there is also a nice pot of mushroom soup made up.¡±

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s look of trepidation, she giggled again.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I know which are safe to eat. I¡¯ll try to save some for you, but you might lose out if you take too long.¡±

    With those parting words, Leshana made her way out of the small tent, leaving Autumn alone with only her thoughts for company.

    How terrifying.

    Finally awake and alert, Autumn looked about the tent she¡¯d found herself in. The shadows squirmed under her gaze. Rotten, foul things only held at bay by the soft blaze of the hanging lantern. They gnawed greedily at the imagination, chewing on the enlightened mind, urging it to believe in the things lurking within. To give them power they did not deserve.

    Autumn looked away.

    Within arm¡¯s reach lay a pile of her gear, likely removed in order to bring her comfort as she burned with a high fever. Her robes were dry now and neatly folded as they sat beside her slightly mildew-smelling leather gear. Thankfully, her pack of supplies had survived with her, even if it¡¯d suffered under the abuse. However, what drew Autumn¡¯s eye the most was her Tome of Witchcraft; it sat upon her things like a terrible weight, eyeing her with an expectation that brought a wave of hope.

    All that was missing was her wand.

    That was lost somewhere in the greed of the dark underground river.

    Autumn picked up her Tome.

    It was no worse for wear than when she¡¯d first picked it up; whatever enchantment that bound it was seemingly still going strong. Autumn flicked through the yellowed pages, her eyes scanning for anything spell, craft, or ward that¡¯d come in handy right now. However, much to her displeasure, most of the spells held within required some sort of spell-catalyst to cast and no matter how hard she looked, she could not find a page that detailed how to craft one. Autumn contemplated looking deeper into the book, to the pages that tested her mind in ways there were no words to describe.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    Ultimately, she decided that the risk wasn¡¯t worth it.

    However, Autumn was not without power as both Touch of Terror and Aversion¨Cher spell-shield¨Cdid not require a wand to cast, just more effort. She did also find a few helpful pages of meditation and channeling guides. Simple sorts of things to help a novice in their fumbling first steps¨Csomething she could have used before.

    They weren¡¯t the ¡°One simple trick that spellcasters don¡¯t want you to know!¡± or the ¡°Do this simple method and you¡¯ll have magical abs in an instant!¡± type of thing, but useful nonetheless.

    Tears beaded unbidden in Autumn¡¯s eyes. It was just a stupid piece of wood; she told herself, but it didn¡¯t help. That wand represented a world she¡¯d always wanted, even in the fantasy of her mind. With it missing, so was a significant portion of her abilities, and it hurt.

    It hurt so badly.

    Suddenly, her wayward thoughts were interrupted by a loud, desperate growl.

    Autumn¡¯s heart skipped a beat as the sound doused her mind in ice. She scrambled for her knife. Clutching it in hand, she cast a wild look about the small tent, watching the creeping shadows with distrust. And as her mind conjured all manner of cruel monsters from them, her stomach growled again.

    Her face burned as her heart calmed.

    Now aware of the hunger gnawing upon her, Autumn knew she could not delay any longer. Tucking away her emotions, she set about dressing and gathering up her gear.

    Her robes, now dry, settled onto her body with a familiar, comforting weight. While the faded material had never been in the best of states, the battering she¡¯d taken through the battle and subsequent fight with the river had left it adorned with new rips and tears. To make matters worse, her boots too were scuffed and cracked all along the leather, and without her wand she could not use her repair charm to fix either.

    The empty sleeve on her vambrace paid mind to that sad fact.

    At last, Autumn equipped herself with her belt, her new sword, and the weighty Tome pressed snugly against her hip.

    With nothing left to distract herself with, Autumn was forced to confront a challenge she was ill-equipped to face: people. And while she could use her new powers to bury that fear, it didn¡¯t sound all that healthy to do so.

    Then again, what part about her situation was conducive to her mental health?

    Shouldering her pack, Autumn took one last look at the hissing shadows before turning and stepping out into the firelight.

    Autumn froze as six pairs of eyes turned towards her.

    Her immediate instinct was to run, but before she could make her escape¨Cignorant of where she¡¯d flee to¨CLeshana seized her. The Elven woman practically dragged the petrified Autumn onto a set net to her beside the fire and shoved a bowl of hot mushroom soup into her hands.

    Autumn blinked down into it.

    ¡°Here you go! Eat up. Judging by the sounds your stomach made, you must be starving. I thought it was a monster creeping about!¡±

    Leshana¡¯s smile was bright as she wiggled her ears, which grew brighter as Autumn reddened.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tease the poor girl, Leshana. She¡¯d had a rough time of it without your particular brand of annoyance.¡±

    A half-amused, half-exasperated voice called out from the other side of Leshana. Peering over shyly, Autumn saw a male counterpart to Leshana. One that didn¡¯t lose out in terms of beauty. With mirth in his eyes, he sported sharp features and golden eyes, along with long, dark green hair woven into a cage of steel-like twigs.

    From now on¨Cunless provided with contrary evidence¨CAutumn was going to just assume that all Elves possessed natural and unrivaled beauty and grace.

    It was unfair.

    The male Elf turned a charming smile Autumn¡¯s way and raised his bowl in greeting.

    ¡°Vuriac Oakwind of the Everblooms. It¡¯s a pleasure to finally meet face to face.¡±

    ¡°Uh¡­Autumn. Witch Autumn that is. I am.¡±

    Autumn introduced herself as she inexpertly juggled the hot bowl in her fingertips, trying not to burn herself.

    Leshana swatted at Vuriac.

    ¡°Ignore him. He''s not worth the attention.¡± She gave Autumn a secretive fond smile. ¡°It¡¯ll just give him a big head.¡±

    ¡°Hey. don¡¯t make up lies about me!¡±

    While the two Elves began bickering quietly between themselves, Autumn turned her attention away to the other four that sat around the burning flame. They were as diverse as it got, considering the groups that¡¯d embarked on this fateful adventure.

    The first of which was Bardos, brother to Arvius, son to Ekrus.

    Autumn was surprised to see him here, considering the last she¡¯d seen of his father and brother was of them being killed. She¡¯d sort of assumed¨Cperhaps uncharitably¨Cthat he had died too. Although, based on the way he stared blankly into the fire, maybe a part of him had.

    Bardos only glanced up at Autumn once before he ignored her in favor of his meal.

    Next along was a pair of Lepus; one male, the other female.

    Judging by the plate armor of bone the male wore alongside the sword and shield she spied amongst his belongings not too far away, he was a chevalier, a Lepus knight. In contrast, the female Lepus possessed a long spear that¡¯d somehow survived the journey. And if Autumn¡¯s understanding of their language was correct¨Cand it was¨Cshe was called a Lancier.

    Just like Autumn''s gear, theirs was showing more signs of wear and tear. Cracks appeared in the leather, bone plates splintered, and expensive iron chain-links had split apart.

    Despite that, they appeared to be in a relatively good mood.

    Upon seeing Autumn¡¯s attention directed upon them, the male smiled, swallowed his mouthful of soup, and introduced himself and his compatriot to Autumn.

    ¡°Salut! Autumn, right? I¡¯m Rarg Kopavik and this is Val¨¦rie Rodin. It¡¯s a pleasure to see you up and about. You really had us worried there, didn¡¯t she, Val¨¦rie?¡± Val¨¦rie simply nodded in reply. Rarg continued, nonplussed. ¡°I apologize for her candor; the dark doesn¡¯t agree with her, it seems. Ever since we fell down here, she¡¯s been a Lepus of few words.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Val¨¦rie said simply.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you, I guess.¡± Autumn said hesitantly, her voice no better than before.

    The most out-of-place member of the group was its last, even including Autumn, which was a low bar to pass. A young demoness in ripped and ragged Duskguard armor sat beside the fire, staring unblinking at Autumn with her one good eye, the other covered by a bloody bandage. Or, to be more accurate, she was staring intently at Autumn¡¯s Tome of Witchcraft, and had been ever since Autumn had emerged from the tent.

    What was stranger still was that she looked as generic as Inferni came: red skin, red hair, perfectly proportioned horns and tail. Even her facial features looked like an amalgamation of many others. An average.

    She looked normal, at least compared to the eclectic collection of strange folks she¡¯d met.

    Was that racist? Autumn asked herself.

    Autumn shifted as subtly as she could¨Ci.e. not very¨Cto cover her Tome from view and cleared her throat. Which was a mistake, as the vibrating sensation against her numb throat left her a little lightheaded.

    ¡°Um. My name¡¯s Autumn. I never caught your name.¡±

    Now addressed, the demoness finally blinked¨Cor winked if one were cruel enough to be semantic in this situation. A lonesome eye slowly wandered up to meet Autumn¡¯s dark pair. There was not much behind them. If eyes were said to be windows to the soul, then hers had cracked.

    ¡°Yuupis.¡± She said in a whisper, devoid of emotion.

    Autumn looked away first, afraid of what she¡¯d see reflected back at her.

    ¡°Right. Um. It¡¯s nice to meet you, as well.¡±

    Yuupis said nothing, just stared.

    In an effort to avoid the awkwardness of whatever that was, Autumn looked down at her bowl of soup. Unable to keep her stomach¡¯s complaints at bay any longer, Autumn judged the soup to be cool enough, so she took a sip.

    She was wrong.

 Chapter Sixty-Five: A Lesson in Tasting Walls

    ¡°These roots that we wander are, in their own right, a world unto themselves. Not that I mean it¡¯s another plane like the Desolate Hells or the Fae Courts, but more in that it¡¯s a¡­what¡¯s the word? A-ha, an isolated ecology. That¡¯s the word, right? Anyway, these under-roots, under-forest, or¡ªas some call it¡ªthe Sleepless Hollow, stretches in every direction for untold leagues, even downwards. If it wasn¡¯t for all the dangers lurking down here, I believe that the empire and other nations would expand into these dark caverns. Hells, I think the Manus do with their mines and deep-roads.¡±

    Leshana murmured to Autumn as the group marched down a water-worn tunnel, the shadows scattering fearfully at the sight of their torch and lantern light. The Elf was a surprising fount of knowledge about the environment they¡¯d found themselves in.

    Not that Autumn had actually asked.

    Shortly after Autumn had finished burning her mouth on the too hot soup, she¡¯d taken Autumn under her wing as the camp was hurriedly, but methodically, packed away. And while it seemed like she was giving the¡ªyounger? It was hard to tell with Elves¡ªgirl advice, Autumn felt she was just bored and wanted to chat.

    Autumn felt it was perhaps wise to take the opportunity to gather as much information as she could. Namely, about where they were and what obstacles awaited them.

    ¡°What made all these tunnels?¡±

    Leshana hummed at Autumn¡¯s question, her eyes cast skyward at the dark ceiling. Resting loosely across her shoulders, stretched her weapon. In defiance of everything that Autumn was led to believe about wood elves or their equivalents, Leshana did not wield a bow of any kind. Instead, the tall woman came equipped with a glaive, the blade of which was made of some kind of metal-looking wood.

    Thankfully for Autumn¡¯s expectations, Vuriac did indeed carry a rather powerful looking shortbow.

    ¡°That¡¯s a hard question to answer.¡±

    ¡°Does nobody know?¡±

    Leshana shook her head, almost taking Autumn out with her glaive¡¯s haft. Looking only slightly contrite at Autumn¡¯s glare, she answered.

    ¡°No. It¡¯s not that. There¡¯s just so many possibilities. For example, this tunnel here could have formed by natural water erosion or a water elemental or monster of some sort could have carved it out. It also could have formed because of an earthquake or an earthquake-like spell or magical event. Etc. You¡¯d need a specialist to tell exactly what had happened, some kind of geo-wizard or something. Even then, it won¡¯t be completely accurate.¡±

    ¡°So it¡¯s useless to guess?¡±

    Shaking her head¡ªmore carefully this time¡ªshe replied. ¡°I didn¡¯t say that. Take a look around and tell me what you see.¡±

    Autumn raised an inquisitive eyebrow, but at Leshana¡¯s continued insistence, she relented and did as the Elf asked. Raising a flaming torch high, Autumn gazed about the tunnel as the shadows drew back.

    Immediately upon packing up the rather small camp, the group had picked one tunnel at random. Autumn had thought at the time it was just because they¡¯d no idea where they were or where each could lead, but if Leshana¡¯s words were to be believed, it might not have been so random as it looked.

    Carefully, Autumn gazed at the walls.

    Time-worn walls greeted her inquisitive gaze. The slick moisture-laden surface danced with the light of her burning torch, free of any signs of tool marks, either mortal or monster. Turning her gaze up, Autumn followed along the rivulets of water that slowly and steadily ran down the walls like columns, leaving behind a build-up of pale minerals.

    The ground underfoot was just as slick as the walls; Autumn was already having troubles keeping her footing on such a treacherous surface. Of the others, only the young guardswoman Yuupis was having as much trouble as Autumn; she likely was more used to cobbled streets or dirt paths.

    Leshana sidled up to Autumn. ¡°Go on, taste it.¡±

    Autumn gave the Elf a look of confusion mixed with disbelief.

    ¡°You want me to lick the wall?¡±

    Leshana snorted. ¡°Ha. As funny as that would be, you can use your finger instead. Go ahead; it¡¯ll give you more information about the water¡¯s composition.¡±

    Dusiously, Autumn placed her finger to the wall and tasted the residue. Grimacing, she spat it out.

    ¡°...salty.¡±

    Leshana grinned.

    ¡°And what does that mean?¡± She spoke like a school teacher guiding a student to an answer she already knew.

    Autumn wanted to just quip that it was salty because there was salt in it, but under Leshana¡¯s expectant gaze she stopped herself and thought about it properly.

    ¡°The Restless Mire was mostly a saltmarch, right? At least on its coasts. So either that or we are underneath a salt deposit or the ocean, but I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve traveled that far.¡±

    ¡°Very good! Well done!¡± Leshana beamed and clapped which drew the other¡¯s attention much to Autumn¡¯s embarrassment.

    Hiding under her hat, she stuttered out a reply. ¡°T-t-thanks.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it was good, but you forgot to take into account any salt-based monsters or elementals. However, they¡¯d make either obvious tracks or be more universal in coverage; these stalagmites along the walls don¡¯t happen with them, unless they stay still for a long time. And I mean a loooong time, like centuries.¡±

    ¡°Right. So why did we pick this tunnel then? Because it had salt in it?¡±

    Leshana nodded. ¡°Mostly. We had three options to choose from. One had a slightly acidic coating to the walls.¡± She held up a finger that was slightly redder than the others, ¡°which means that it was frequented by some sort of acidic slime. They can be rather hard to spot; you won¡¯t notice them until your skin starts burning away and gods help you if they get into your mouth.¡±

    Leshana and Autumn both shuddered at the imagery.

    She then continued. ¡°The other sloped downwards after a while and it smelt¡­off to put it bluntly.¡±

    ¡°It smelt off?¡± Autumn asked.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Yeah, off.¡± Leshana shrugged. ¡°After a while of adventuring, you get a sort of sense for these things. Sometimes you can''t tell what¡¯s wrong, only that it is. Learn to trust these instincts.¡± Leshana said with as much seriousness as she could muster. ¡°It was likely the nest of some monster, or something similar. And while we could probably take it, why take the risk, eh?¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Autumn responded absentmindedly, lost in her own thoughts.

    Instinct. Subconscious vigilance in another word.

    It was the hair-raising crawl on the back of your neck. That feeling of being watched in the dead of the night. A tool passed down from ancestors in a more dangerous time. A time of darkness where fire had yet to grace their eyes. Instinct alerted you to the monsters beneath the bed or the knife ready to plunge quick to the bone.

    Autumn was intimately familiar.

    Resting her hand upon her Tome, Autumn felt at the icy coldness of the metal that banded it, allowing the shock to aid her in concentrating. With her eyes closed, she did not see the way the shadows danced as she drew upon the well of fear that bound her to magic¡¯s allure. She drew it in. Fed it with her anxiety. And from behind her eyes, darkness bloomed, unveiling a new world for her and her alone.

    When Autumn opened her eyes, a kaleidoscope of color greeted her.

    A tapestry of fear.

    The veneer of calm was stripped away like scabs falling off an infected wound. An ugly truth revealed.

    Autumn turned her blackened eyes away from their secrets and insecurities, casting her vision over the dark walls of the empty tunnel. Her mind listened as she searched, looking for signs of anything or anyone, friend or foe.

    She sensed neither.

    Nothing except for the private emotions of animals. Although that in truth caused quite the shock for Autumn, for she¡¯d seen nothing of the sort with her mundane vision. Cave bats and their like hung like rocks above, camouflaged completely to the point of near invisibility. Even aware of their presence and location, Autumn could not differentiate them from the rocks they hid amongst.

    It sent a chill down Autumn''s spine.

    What other creatures could lurk in the dark this way? They¡¯d never see them until it was too late.

    Leshana agreed when Autumn quietly pointed them out to her. The swirl of emotions painted a gloomier picture than her expressions conveyed.

    Countless hours crept by the party like a rogue in the night, knife fresh with blood. It felt like they¡¯d been walking forever, trekking slowly over salt-slick ground in search of an end to the tunnel that felt infinite. The journey was pale with quiet, only broken by Leshana¡¯s lessons to Autumn, pointing out things the young witch had missed.

    Autumn found the continued lessons as enlightening as they were distracting. It stopped her mind from wandering into the dark depths of her vivid imagination. Kept her from wondering too much about her friends. Of what fate had befallen them, or awaited herself.

    However, their journey finally ground to a halt.

    They¡¯d come to a stop before a split in the path; a Y-junction that split their tunnel into two near identical ones. A deep darkness obscured the paths forwards, only held a bay by the flame and lantern light.

    Vuriac stood still in the center, listening keenly in either direction, his face set in concentration.

    ¡°You see anything?¡± Leshana asked as she approached. The rest of the group followed in her wake, keeping an eye out for danger, ahead or behind.

    Vuriac nodded towards the ground. ¡°Footprints, leading from the right to the left.¡±

    Autumn squinted in the direction he had gestured. It was hard for her to tell, but she thought that maybe a few of the loose gravel-like rocks were shifted around a foot-shaped pattern, but it could have just been her imagination or a trick of the flickering light.

    Evidently, the Elves had no such trouble.

    ¡°I see them.¡± Leshana said. ¡°Multiple sets. Large feet and long strides. Here, here, and here.¡±

    ¡°Another group?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Not a group. See how they overlap each other, it means they were likely traveling individually. It could be a group, but I doubt it.¡±

    ¡°Do you think they were from the convoy?¡± Rarg asked as he stopped beside them to look down the dark tunnel. ¡°Or do you think they''re locals?¡±

    ¡°And the more pressing question is: should we follow them or not?¡± Val¨¦rie chimed in as she stared down the opposing tunnel.

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say.¡± Leshana chewed on her lip. ¡°They are barefooted.¡±

    ¡°They could¡¯ve just lost their boots. How much stuff did we lose?¡± Val¨¦rie shrugged as she replied. ¡°Do we even know if this place has any sort of friendly local population?¡±

    Leshana shrugged. ¡°No idea. This is my first time down here. All I know about this place is from the few tidbits of information that the few adventurers that survived this place shared. And those could just be lies or exaggerated stories. Plus, none of those mentioned any sort of settlements or people down here.¡±

    ¡°Is there anything different about either tunnel?¡± Rarg asked.

    Autumn turned her attention away from the conversation and cast a glance down each of the tunnels. Aside from the direction the footprints traveled in, there was little in the way of difference. Crouching down, she cast a gaze upon the ground''s slope.

    Perhaps the left one went slightly downwards? It was hard to tell.

    ¡°We should go that way.¡±

    Autumn jumped, startled by a soft, emotionless voice.

    Standing beside her was Yuupis, the young guardswoman. Somehow she¡¯d silently approached Autumn, and it was only as she spoke that Autumn even realized she was there.

    Hurriedly, Autumn stood and turned to take in the demoness as her heart pounded and her cheeks burned.

    And what a strange sight she saw. Normally, when Autumn gazed upon someone with her mind open, she¡¯d see their palette of emotions cast liberally upon the blank canvas of the world. With Yuupis, however, it was like there was some sort of film across her, a shroud to hide a puppet in a play. Whether or not the girl was her own puppeteer was not something Autumn could answer. All she knew was that the girl was rather hard to read.

    ¡°W-why do you say that?¡± Autumn eventually found the courage to ask.

    Yuupis did not blink, her gaze firmly locked onto Autumn¡¯s inky black orbs. Not afraid or disgusted by the sight. But, then again, Autumn was unable to tell.

    It was a strange, and ultimately familiar feeling as she¡¯d always felt like this before. Before she¡¯d come to this world. Before she was stolen.

    Before she¡¯d seen him/infinity/madness-made-manifest.

    Autumn blinked. Her mind felt fuzzy, like it was a jigsaw puzzle someone reset when she had but one piece left to place.

    What was I thinking about again?

    ¡°It¡¯s simple, really.¡± Yuupis said. ¡°Whoever left these footprints only travels one way; left to right.¡± She pointed down the left-hand tunnel. ¡°If they are not in a group but staggered, there is a high likelihood that more are heading this way as we speak. If they are hostile, we wouldn¡¯t want to face them in the narrow confines of the tunnels, and if they are friendly, we¡¯d want to convene with those that had left already.¡± She now pointed down the right-hand tunnel. ¡°So that leaves us with the logical option of heading down this way. Don¡¯t you think so too?¡±

    Autumn just stared.

    Thankfully, she was not the only one listening to Yuupis¡¯ explanation.

    ¡°That¡¯s as good an argument as any! Well thought out!¡± Leshana praised. ¡°Any objections?¡±

    ¡°I have one.¡± Val¨¦rie spoke up, her eyes drilling into the side of Yuupis¡¯ head. Not that the demoness noticed or even cared. ¡°How do we know this doesn¡¯t just lead into some sort of monster encampment? Would we really want to go where we know there are potential enemies?¡±

    Leshana shook her head. ¡°If it was a camp, the footprints would lead in both directions, not just one. And there¡¯ll be enemies anywhere we go, while there won¡¯t be friends. It¡¯s best to take a chance on it now. Anything else to add?¡±

    Val¨¦rie remained silent this time, as did everyone else.

    ¡°Good!¡± Leshana clapped her hands, the echo traveling far down all three tunnels. Sheepish under everyone¡¯s glare, she cleared her throat and gestured down the right-hand tunnel. ¡°Hehe. Shall we?¡±

    Begrudgingly, everyone followed the Elf.

    And just as Autumn began walking down the tunnel of flickering light and darkness, a whisper of a familiar voice caught her ear, emanating from her amulet, that hallowed soul cage.

    ¡°Hark, young Witch Autumn, we shouldst talk for I sense yond our foe, the hag, draws near breath."

 Chapter Sixty-Six: Paranoia Cometh

    Autumn wished people would stop surprising her. Her heart beat a riot rhythm in her chest. A sound she was sure the others could hear. To be fair, part of the onus was on her as she¡¯d forgotten all about the banshee¡¯s presence in all the violence and confusion. Although she was unaware that the banshee could communicate outside of the prison that she¡¯d willfully entered.

    Glancing around furtively, Autumn didn¡¯t see any sign that the others had heard the banshee¡¯s voice.

    ¡°Fret not, for I speaketh to thy mind. Simply will thy voice beest hath heard by myself and ''twill reacheth me.¡± The banshee¡¯s voice echoed in the empty corridors that led to Autumn¡¯s mind. It quested, knocking on the barred door it found as it beseeched entry and amity. It was a strange feeling indeed.

    Autumn swallowed. Her heart calmed as she weighed her reply.

    ¡®The others can¡¯t hear you, right?¡¯

    ¡°Not unless they can readeth thy mind? Can they?¡±

    Paranoia gripped Autumn. Once again, she cast her eyes about furtively. The others weren¡¯t paying any more attention to Autumn than they usually would. When her eyes met with Leshana''s, the Elf raised a questioning eyebrow, seemingly asking if Autumn had sensed anything. Autumn just shook her head and tried to look calm; the opposite of what she felt inside.

    ¡®I-I don¡¯t think so, no. At least I hope not. N-nevermind that, what was this about the hag¡¯s breath?¡¯ Autumn thought-replied to the banshee. It was quite remarkable how she still found a way to stutter while speaking in her mind.

    ¡°I sense the foul hag¡¯s taint near thee. Be wary.¡±

    Autumn shuddered. ¡®Please never say ¡°hag¡¯s taint¡± ever again. It¡¯s¡­poor phrasing.¡¯

    ¡°Okay?¡± The banshee¡¯s confusion vibrated through the mental line.

    ¡®Moving on. What do you mean exactly? Is the hag nearby? And if so, how close?¡¯

    ¡°I knoweth not the things thee bid of me, for in death I am weaken''d. For sooth, I cannot sayeth if it be true the hag lingers still. However, on these lonesome walls, that cruel monster¡¯s touch remains like a foul smell. A terrible stench. As for how long since that beast¡¯s passing? Days peradventure? Or the hag might still beest nearby. Who is''t can knoweth?¡±

    Autumn sniffed, but she smelled only salt and body-odor. The travel so far had not been kind to her clothing, and without her wand to cleanse them, they¡¯d accumulated a thin coating of grime. What she desired most and ultimately needed was a hot shower.

    ¡®Are you sure?¡¯

    A coldness radiated out from the soul cage pressed up against Autumn¡¯s skin. ¡°I¡¯ll ner forget betrayal''s scent.¡±

    ¡®Right. Ok. It wasn¡¯t that I was doubting you; I just wanted to make sure.¡¯ Autumn nervously licked her cracked lips. ¡®And besides, right now, I¡¯m not really in a state to go toe-to-toe with a hag, especially one on her home turf.¡¯

    The connection was silent a moment before the banshee chimed back in, her voice even colder and ringing with a dark portent. A threat and warning both. ¡°Thou wouldn¡¯t beest going back on our deal, would thee? I can guarantee thee shall not like the consequences.¡±

    ¡®NO.¡¯ Autumn shouted in the confines of her mind. ¡®No. B-but there are ways to do things right. If you want the hag dead, I¡¯ll need time and help to do so. Do not worry. I¡¯ll do what I have said I would. The hag will lie dead.¡¯

    A pause. A silence. One so deep and dark that shadows themselves would die within it.

    Slowly, the banshee spoke once more as if each word was being measured for its worth.

    ¡°Very well. Trust thee shalt has''t, young witch, but knoweth this: shouldst thee betray me too, death shall beest a relief thee shalt not enjoy. A fate wandering forevermore shall beest thine curse, as is mine. ¡±

    Finally, a solemn silence filled Autumn¡¯s mind. Gone was the voice in the winding halls, the visitor having retreated back fully into the confines of the hallowed amulet that rested innocently upon Autumn¡¯s breast. The banshee appeared content to watch and wait.

    Just how much power the fallen Fae possessed was a mystery to Autumn, as was how much the soul cage actually held them; the banshee had gone in willingly after all. Who knows whether it even could contain one of such nature. The nature of souls was a foreign concept to Autumn, and she knew no masters of such in which to confide or at least question about such matters.

    Autumn shook off those harrowing thoughts, casting her mind to contemplate what she¡¯d been told.

    Finger Eater Mildred had been here. Even worse, she might still linger nearby. Autumn opened her mouth to speak, to warn the others. However, just as she was about to, a crazy thought popped into her mind and her jaw shut with a click as she stumbled. The others turned to Autumn questioningly.

    ¡°...sorry.¡± Autumn apologized while forcing herself to blush¡ªnot that it required much effort. ¡°Just stumbled over a rock.¡±

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Curiosity satisfied, the others turned away.

    Leshana offered a kind smile. ¡°All good. Just watch your feet, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°Un.¡± Autumn grunted in reply, far too focused on her own thoughts to properly socialize.

    The thought that had entered Autumn¡¯s mind like a bolt out of the blue and spread its creeping tendrils of paranoia like a corrupted weed, or more pointedly like a dark mushroom, was a ¡®what if?¡¯

    What if the hag hadn¡¯t passed through this way, but was passing through?

    Autumn swallowed heavily. Sweat beaded on the back of her neck as her mind raced. Back on Earth, she¡¯d read many tales of cruel witches, of foul hags and their ilk. And in these sordid tales¡ªfiction as they may be¡ªthe foul creatures possessed many dark and strange powers, often including invisibility, illusion, and more notably, shapeshifting.

    So, the question that beleaguered Autumn¡¯s poor mind was this: what if the hag was disguised as one of them?

    Autumn tried her best to relax, to not let the sudden tension show. Her robes felt stifling, her sweat like fire as it ran down her back. Each and every breath she drew in her battered lungs was like swallowing razor blades. Autumn was well aware that she was spiraling down into an abyss of terror and what lay down there held its arms open in a horrifying welcome. Pulling back from the edge was no mean feat; the amount of fear she extracted from herself could coat a canvas till it was black. It weighed heavily on her brow.

    With a clarity of mind she asked herself: why? Why would the hag¡ªassuming she was even here¡ªhide amongst them?

    For fun? Some sick pleasure or obscure goal?

    Perhaps, but Autumn suspected it was her fault. Granted, she always assumed that, even with evidence to the contrary. She was trying to get better about her self-image, but it was a hard road. It didn¡¯t help that in this case; she believed her fault in this to be true¡ªignoring the fact that this was all speculation so far.

    The banshee had said before that the hag mocked her with her presence. Perhaps that meant more than Autumn had realized?

    Maybe the hag kept tabs on the banshee? Autumn would¡¯ve if she held a pact over such a dangerous creature as she.

    But, if so, whom among them could it be?

    Anyone. The answer to that haunting question was: anyone.

    Autumn even contemplated it being herself for a brief moment. There was a non-zero chance that she was some sort of clone or a magical duplicate sent off to infiltrate and kill ¡®herself¡¯, but she promptly shook off that crazy thought; too much said otherwise for her to truly believe it. Not to mention the banshee could properly tell; them being pacted together, after all.

    So, who among them was the most suspicious?

    Casting her paranoid gaze forwards, Autumn took in the backs of the Elven pair. What did she even know about them, or Elves in general? Fuck all. However, in saying that, she¡¯d seen them get along with a familiarity that was hard, if not impossible, to fake. The slight gestures and idle comments shared between them that spoke of a history shared. And while Autumn was jaded enough to think that Leshana could have faked her care for Autumn, she didn¡¯t think so in this case as what would the point of it be?

    Even in disguise, the hag would have no cause to keep Autumn unharmed and well. If, in fact, the hag was Leshana, then it¡¯d been easy enough to just let Autumn die in her sleep.

    So no, Autumn didn¡¯t suspect Leshana and thus, by proxy, Vuriac.

    What of the Lepus then?

    Autumn turned her attention towards them now. The pair were walking ahead of her, keeping their voices to hushed tones, wary of the tunnel¡¯s echo. From what Autumn could gleam from the bits and pieces of conversation she overheard, they were mainly just discussing the journey and the dangers they were likely to face. Things such as how long they¡¯d traveled and how far they thought they¡¯d gotten, as well as what kind of monster they¡¯d likely to come across in this dreadful underworld.

    Nothing that¡¯d give Autumn any clue whether they¡¯d been replaced or not.

    Not that she knew for certain that had happened. It was just her mind picking the worst option it could conjure to torment her.

    However, there was something that raised a red flag in her mind. Early today, when they¡¯d first met, Rarg had said that Val¨¦rie was noticeably quieter ever since she¡¯d entered the underground. At the time Autumn had dismissed this as simply idle chatter and that the spearwoman was simply afraid like the rest of them.

    Maybe she was afraid of the dark? She¡¯d thought. But with her mind scrambling and searching for anything to bite into, this took on a whole new meaning. Had the pair been separated before they¡¯d met? They¡¯d never said, nor did Autumn think to ask. Now it was too late; if the hag was truly amongst them¡ªagain she was just wildly speculating¡ªit¡¯d tip her off.

    Autumn¡¯s back was awash with sweat.

    Paranoia was a dog that bit both its foes and master both. Autumn knew that if she couldn¡¯t tame it, she¡¯d make mistakes she couldn¡¯t take back.

    ¡°But¡­¡± that creeping voice spoke in the back of her mind, ¡°but what if you are right?¡± it asked, knowing she had no answer.

    However, no matter how much she scrutinized the Lepus pair in front of her, she found nothing odd about their behavior. And besides, they weren¡¯t even the most suspicious of the group.

    Autumn cast a look over her shoulder. Trailing behind the group as a rear guard was the Inferni pair of Bardos and Yuupis. The pair were quiet, completely silent even as they held their vigil over the way the group had come. Too quiet perhaps? Autumn hadn¡¯t heard Yuupis speak since the Y-junction, and Bardos hadn¡¯t spoken at all.

    Were they dead? Killed and replaced by the hag when nobody was looking? Or perhaps even before that?

    How had Bardos survived where his brother and father had not?

    Autumn felt sick as she thought those awful thoughts. Besides, she could see for herself the sheer volume of grief that poured off the berserker like endless waves in an endless ocean of loss.

    Why would someone fake that? She¡¯d not told anyone of her sight. In truth, it¡¯d slipped her mind to tell them. She was far too used to her own group who already knew.

    So no, it was unlikely to be him. She hoped.

    That left Yuupis. If anyone was suspect, it was her.

    A pair of dull eyes turned to meet her blackened orbs. Oh, how she hated them, those eyes that lacked life. They were too familiar, haunting her in bathroom mirrors. Autumn suspected she was at least a little biased, but she could not find it in herself to trust someone she could not sense, could not peer into and see their colors. She wanted to cut them open, peel back their layers one by one to reveal the paints hidden inside.

    What kind of canvas would emerge?

    ¡°Is there something wrong, Autumn?¡± Yuupis asked, her voice just as dull as her eyes.

    Autumn blinked owlishly. ¡°No. It¡¯s nothing, just checking in.¡±

    Yuupis nodded. ¡°Things are fine back here. No need to worry. You just keep looking forward and keep yourself intact, alright?¡±

 Chapter Sixty-Seven: All That Glittersâ€¦

    Then.

    Two days had passed by Autumn in a blur. Two days of relentless marching through tunneled halls that never changed, never seemed to end. They wound and weaved through the earth like some great intestines of the underworld. And as the group had strode ever onward, ever deeper into the darkness that dwelled beneath the world, Autumn¡¯s hope that they were bound for an exit, any exit to this lightless abode, dwindled by the day.

    Those dark walls had pressed down upon her feeble, breaking mind, threatening to entomb her alongside her paranoid whisperings. In her delusions and exhaustion, she couldn¡¯t even tell whether it was all a trick of her mind or if, in fact, the walls had been actually narrowing as time passed by.

    Perhaps that was answer enough?

    Even the passage of time was suspect.

    A rocky sky, many miles thick, blocked them from the sun¡¯s warmth. Their days and nights were of equal darkness. Fatigue had become their marker. Only when exhaustion and hunger feasted upon their bodies did they stop their long march. There was no other way to tell. Not mundane nor magical.

    No one knew how long they¡¯d actually been down here for.

    The darkness didn¡¯t tell, didn¡¯t spill that valuable secret.

    But, even then, exhaustion wasn¡¯t a balm to unfulfilling sleep.

    Autumn herself had only found a brief respite. Fearful as she was of both enemies without and within, she¡¯d rest sitting with her back pressed up against the hard, irregular wall of the tunnel. Her arms would wrap tight around her Tome of Witchcraft: a safety blanket of nightmarish word. Across her lap she¡¯d balance her newfound sword while her eyes, still stained black with dark power, watched. All throughout the nights, they never closed, peeking out from behind the black curtains of her hair.

    Perhaps she¡¯d been unkind to the others. Her pale, haunting visage was hardly comforting as it stared at them unblinkingly while they tried to scrape together their own merger sleep.

    But she hadn¡¯t found it in herself to care. After all, one of them was maybe, potentially, possibly, a hag in disguise.

    So. Fuck ¡®em.

    To that fact, Autumn had been unable to glean any further details. The banshee remained silent. No matter how many times she pounded on the mental door in her mind, the dead-fae would not respond. The soul-cage upon her breast lay innocent-looking and idle.

    It¡¯d been a uniquely frustrating experience for Autumn to be ignored by a ghost.

    Thankfully for her sanity¡ªwhat little of it that was left¡ªthe tunnel had soon ended.

    It¡¯d happened around midday¡ªafter they¡¯d eaten lunch by their measurement. Food had been getting scarce over the last few days. Autumn herself had only packed four day¡¯s worth of rations before leaving Bogward; two to make it to the goblin encampment, two to make it back. At the time, she¡¯d thought it was a tad low. Surely, she thought, they¡¯d need to pack extras just in case, right? However, the others had reassured her multiple times that the mire held a bounty despite its dangers for those who knew where to look, implying that they in fact did.

    Fat lot of good that did.

    All Autumn had seen was rocks, salt, rocks, mushrooms, and more rocks.

    Luckily for her, she¡¯d been traveling in the company of Elves. Rangers at that. Both Leshana and Vuriac had done their best to supplement the group¡¯s diet with whatever was edible to be found. Unfortunately, this proved to be far harder than said. The buildup of salt upon the walls rendered the long tunnels barren of life, except for the hardiest of plants. Those being a few scant mushrooms. Even then most tended towards the poisonous side, some even lethally so.

    Autumn had made sure to pay attention and take notes on what the Elves plucked and what they did not.

    It could be a matter of life or death.

    Hunger. It¡¯d driven the group to a faster pace. They¡¯d marched down the winding tunnels for an hour or so before it¡¯d happened. The light had changed. All across the salt-slick walls, reflected light danced and played, swaying in time with the bob and weave of their lantern lights¡ªtheir torches having long since burned out. It was like a disco ball casting across an empty dance floor.

    They¡¯d barely shared a glance before they took off. Their pace increased once more. Not quite at a run just then, but faster than a brisk jog at least. Even in a hurry, they¡¯d been mindful of treacherous footing underneath.

    And then. They¡¯d found the end.

    Now.

    Autumn stood at the end of the tunnel, stunned by the sight beyond. A grand cavern yawned before her, filled wall to wall with sparkling crystals. The light they cast by magical lanterns shone out into the mineral giants, filtering and diffusing the light into a kaleidoscope of color. Vibrant greens, rich blues and purples, even vivid reds bathed the cavern in color.

    It was a geode in the earth, only this one at an unbelievable scale. Crystalline pillars the size of skyscrapers ran from floor to ceiling, while bridges the size of highways ran from wall to wall. The chamber was so large they could not even see the end. It just vanished into mist and overlapping crystals.

    It was dizzying in its beauty.

    Autumn crept up to the edge and looked down. Almost immediately she regretted it as her stomach dropped away. They were high up, really high up. Only a distant shimmer belied the carpet of crystals that made up the floor below.

    However, it was not all bad news. Jutting out from the wall just below the lip of the tunnel was a crystal about the width of a person. It speared out into the air like a platform and below it Autumn could make out a series of crystals ramping downwards to the floor far below.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    It now made sense why the footprints only traveled one way.

    ¡°Well. I wasn¡¯t expecting this, but wow.¡±

    Leshana broke the silence with an awed whisper. Despite how quiet she was, in the absolute silence of the cavern, her voice still caused the rest to jump silently. Autumn herself almost tumbled to her doom. Whirling around with a jack-hammering heart, Autumn addressed the Elven woman, only mildly embarrassed.

    ¡°D-don¡¯t scare me like that!¡± Autumn huffed. ¡°A-anyway. Have you seen anything like this before?¡±

    ¡°Like this?¡± Leshana gestured out to the crystal cavern. ¡°Hells no. I¡¯m an above ground kinda girl, not some Manus delver. And before you ask, I¡¯ve no idea what these crystals are. Anyone else?¡± Leshana turned to the others, but all she got back was a few shrugs or shakes of the head.

    ¡°Ok then. Enough waiting around. Let¡¯s move on.¡±

    ¡°Wait what?¡± Rarg asked. ¡°You¡¯re not actually thinking of crossing these crystals, right?¡±

    Leshana turned to him, her eyes lacking any mirth. ¡°Sure. Where else can we go? We¡¯re out of food almost, and we¡¯ve eaten anything edible back that way. We¡¯d never make it back to the crossroads. No. We need to press on.¡±

    ¡°But, we don¡¯t even know how safe it is. Those crystals hardly look stable!¡±

    ¡°Whatever passed through here before us made it. See?¡± Leshana pointed. Looking closer, Autumn could see a few smears that might resemble footprints on the otherwise pristine surface. ¡°As long as we go one by one we should be fine.¡±

    ¡°But¡ª¡±

    Rarg tried speaking again, only to be interrupted by a voice from behind.

    ¡°Then stay here and starve.¡±

    There was no pity in Bardo¡¯s gaze or voice. A wave of frustration and anger broke free of the cage of grief he¡¯d built around himself. Autumn shivered. Rarg, for his part, needed no ability to sense emotions to see the dislike in the berserker¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡­I mean¡­there must be another way down, right?!¡± Rarg asked as he shrank back from the Inferni berserker.

    Leshana shrugged. ¡°There isn¡¯t.¡±

    An uncomfortable silence clung to them like a heavy cloak. Before her eyes, Autumn could see lines being drawn; those who wished to press on despite the danger and those who were too afraid because of it.

    Swallowing her anxiety, Autumn spoke up. ¡°U-umm. H-how much rope do we have? Could we make a line down?¡±

    Leshana turned her gaze towards Autumn before gazing over the ledge. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve got enough. That¡¯s like a thousand feet down or something. Maybe.¡±

    Autumn deflated slightly. ¡°What about a safety line? Just to make it to the drop? We could slowly make our way down.¡±

    ¡°Maybe?¡± Leshana tapped her finger to her lips in thought. ¡°Some of those slopes look pretty steep. We might just have to slide down some of them.¡±

    Autumn gulped. She could admit the idea didn¡¯t excite her. One wrong slide and they¡¯d plummet to their deaths, or be sent into another crystal pillar. Some of them look particularly sharp from where she was.

    ¡°It¡¯s as good an idea as any,¡± Vuriac chimed in softly. ¡°Either way, we¡¯re wasting time. Let¡¯s just get to it. Unless someone has a better idea, perhaps a slow-fall spell-scroll or something? No? Alright.¡±

    Seeing as nobody did have anything better, the group pooled together the lengths of rope they had left. Given that hempen rope was a universal piece of equipment in an adventurer''s arsenal, it was a surprise to find they only had three lengths of 50ft amongst themselves. The river must have stolen the rest.

    Autumn winced. From what she knew of pre-industrial rope-making, it was a fairly laborious process, and thus, an expensive acquisition that was not lightly tossed aside. That was if magic didn¡¯t make the process cheaper. Her own had cost a pretty penny-slash-gold either way.

    Leshana went first. In what felt like the blink of an eye, she crossed the crystal with all the grace one might expect of an Elf. The rope around her waist looked like a mere decoration to the surety of her steps.

    Within a few moments¡ªless than it took Autumn to breathe¡ªshe¡¯d unwound the rope from herself and secured it tightly to the crystal at her feet. Untethered now, she gestured to the rest to cross.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go next.¡± Vuriac spoke. ¡°And head down to check what¡¯s awaiting us.¡±

    Autumn watched on in jealous awe as the lithe Elf practically skipped across the slick surface towards his companion. However, her awe soon turned to fright. Upon reaching Leshana, Vuriac cast himself off the edge, plunging down feet first to the sloped pillar directly below. Only a few feet did he drop before landing softly on top of the crystal below. Immediately, he started sliding down with knees bent and arms outstretched for balance.

    In only a few seconds, he disappeared from view.

    The group waited in tense silence, awaiting word from below or the sounds of violence. Thankfully, they didn¡¯t have to wait long. From far, far below came the soft trill of birdsong, one that felt far out of place in the birdless cavern. The sound brought a smile to Leshana¡¯s face, and she was soon ushering the rest to cross.

    Rarg went next, followed closely by Val¨¦rie.

    While they still made it across without incident and down, they moved with far less grace than the Elves had. They¡¯d crashed flat on their backs as they slid, unable to keep on their feet as they vanished into the crystal maze.

    And then it was Autumn¡¯s turn. She gulped.

    Turning her gaze behind her at those who held the rope, her lifeline, Autumn¡¯s black eyes met with Bardo¡¯s ones of steel¡ªmetaphorically speaking. He gave her a nod. Swallowing her fear and grasping around for whatever courage she had hidden away, Autumn stepped out onto the glass-like surface.

    She almost immediately ate shit.

    Somewhat tricked by the Elves¡¯¡ªand less so the Lepus¡¯¡ªseemingly effortless jaunt across the smooth surface of the crystal platform, Autumn had been expecting there to be at the very least some amount of traction to be had.

    She was wrong.

    Autumn let out a squeak of fear as her boots slipped out from under her. Scrambling like a newborn deer, she tried her best to get her feet under her as she held onto the rope line for dear life, but it was for naught. Her knees crashed painfully onto the hard surface, producing a ringing noise that filled the cavern.

    Tears beaded at the corners of her tightly shut eyes.

    ¡°Come on Autumn! It¡¯s not that far. You can make it!¡± Leshana called out encouragingly to the kneeling girl.

    ¡°Fuck you!¡± Autumn replied. She was unsure exactly what language she used, she just hoped the sentiment carried through.

    The shadows laughed at her predicament as she made her way slowly across on her hands and knees. Despite Leshana¡¯s encouragement, Autumn couldn¡¯t find it in herself to stand up. No matter how much of her fear that she siphoned away, she could not forget the fact that to either side of her was a thousand or so foot drop.

    She could make herself fearless, not stupid.

    Upon reaching the end of the crystal where Leshana awaited, Autumn sat herself on the edge, dangling her feet over, just above the drop she¡¯d need to make. It looked far further from here than it did before.

    ¡°Need a push?¡± Leshana asked.

    Autumn glared. ¡°Push me and it¡¯ll be the last thing you do.¡±

    Leshana laughed, unable to understand her but getting the gist of it from her witchy glare. She held up her hands in surrender.

    Autumn turned back to the drop. Having seen what had happened with the Lepus, and knowing her own athletic abilities¡ªor lack thereof¡ªAutumn took her backpack off her back and donned it onto her front; both to help her with balance and so that she¡¯d not have it catch on anything as she slid.

    With a final reassuring breath, she dropped.

 Chapter Sixty-Eight: The Fun Never Ends on the Slipâ€™nâ€™Slide!

    When Autumn was much younger¡ªten or eleven or so, she didn¡¯t quite remember¡ªher parents had taken her to a fancy water park; one of those with a tall water slide named something stupid: ¡®Death Drop¡¯ or some other rubbish. And after much persuasion, her parents had somehow managed to encourage her to give it a go.

    Autumn hated it; she screamed the entire way down.

    Much like now.

    A sense of weightlessness stole over Autumn as she plunged over the edge. The voice in the back of her mind that whispered ¡°jump¡± winning for once. She wished she could have gone a life-time without knowing the fear of falling towards a crystal that might-as-well snap beneath her weight. Even knowing that it¡¯d survived the others¡¯ much heavier bodies didn¡¯t help much.

    What if they¡¯d weakened it? Her traitorous mind whispered.

    Autumn¡¯s imagination flooded her with horrifying images of the crystal shattering as she landed upon it. Of falling a thousand feet and a thousand more. In her mind¡¯s eye, she saw herself breaking upon every crystal on the way down. She saw her blood scattering across the slick surfaces as she was cut and diced and¡ª

    The crystal below her came up suddenly.

    Autumn landed feet first. Immediately upon the leather of her boots contacting the slick surface, they slipped out from underneath her, sending the young witch crashing down with all her weight upon her hip. Her yelp of pain was strangled in its infancy as she began sliding down the length of the crystal, hurtling at a speed she was rather uncomfortable with.

    Glancing further beyond, Autumn paled.

    Much like the crystal she¡¯d dropped from, the one she rode now sprouted out from the wall behind her. This meant that the end pointed out into the open air of the cavern.

    The open air that Autumn was unceremoniously rushing towards.

    And there was nothing she could do about it. Nothing she could do to slow herself. Her crystalline slide was far too slick and to either side of her was a perilous drop that promised to end swiftly upon the point of a crystal. The only thing that quelled her instinct to panic in the face of her doom was the fact that the others had survived this before her.

    Unless. Her traitorous mind spoke once more. Unless it was some sort of trick; something that could mimic the sound of a bird call¡­like a bird for instance. You threw yourself off a ledge, a bridge, because someone told you to. Didn¡¯t your mother ever tell you not to? You¡¯re going to die. Be an Autumn pancake or shish-kebab or¡ª

    ¡®Shut up!¡¯ Autumn screamed in the confines of her mind before screaming out-loud as the crystal ended abruptly.

    Autumn went sailing past, flailing through the air as an empty void greeted her. Far, far below were rows upon rows of sharp teeth of crystal that glinted in the light.

    Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately in this case, Autumn¡¯s airborne journey came to a complete and sudden end. With a heavy thud that drove the air from her lungs, Autumn slammed face-first into a giant-sized pillar of crystal. However, unlike the previous two, this one sprouted up from the ground far below at an almost vertical angle and only the slightest of slopes kept it from being a straight and deadly fall.

    Autumn groaned in agony. In crashing into the wall of crystal, the contents of her pack had decided to acquaint themselves with her chest and stomach. She was just glad that she didn¡¯t have all that many pointy or sharp objects within.

    The agony of impact did not preclude Autumn from the machinations of fate or gravity. Down the grand pillar she slid at a rapid pace and in her desperation she pawed at the surface for any means to slow herself, ill-fated as it may be. However, all she gained for her frantic actions was pain as her fingertips caught upon razor-sharp groves hidden in the otherwise smooth surface. Great claw marks ran all the way down the surface, evidence of a beast that passed this way before and had greater success in slowing itself than Autumn.

    Flipping over, Autumn lay on her back as she rocketed downward, her heart beating wildly in her chest. By now she¡¯d traveled far, over a thousand feet passing by in an instant. As grand and beautiful as the scenery passing her by might be, Autumn had no eyes for it, no mind for it; all she cared for was the ground rapidly approaching. Thankfully, it was relatively clear; no phalanx of crystalline spears awaited her at the bottom, only rocky dirt and the adoration of her peers.

    All of a sudden, Autumn wanted to find another place to land.

    It was not to be.

    Autumn hit the ground at a run, propelled by the vast speed she¡¯d collected. Thanks in kind to her inexperience and the rocky terrain, Autumn¡¯s feet tangled up, tripping her. However, it was not a face full of dirt that greeted her but a pair of strong Elven arms.

    Vuriac grinned down at Autumn even as he stumbled back. A flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s a decent pair of lungs you got on you.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s pale face flushed red. Hastily, she scrambled out of Vuraic¡¯s arms and onto her own two feet, as shaky from the adrenaline as they were. In her ears, blood pounded rapidly in a rhythm of fright. Slowly, she calmed. The fear that coursed through her veins was steadily drawn away, spun into threads of magic for her hat.

    ¡°S-sorry,¡± Autumn stammered out an apology. ¡°I-I¡¯ve never been all that g-good with heights, or falling from them.¡±

    Vuraic shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s all good. Our lights lit the whole cavern up, anyway. If there¡¯s anything in here, it already knew we were coming.¡±

    Autumn nodded awkwardly.

    ¡°Here.¡± Vuriac held out a small strip of fabric. At her look of puzzlement, he elaborated. ¡°For your fingers. Try to keep them clean as we don¡¯t have enough water to spare and you don¡¯t want to get an infection down here.¡±

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    As if waiting on the reminder, the sting of pain returned tenfold.

    Autumn winced as she took in the state of her fingers. The sharp edges had torn them to ribbons, almost shredding them entirely. Blood ran freely from the sundered flesh as tears welled up in her eyes.

    Awkwardly, Autumn shrugged off her pack and dug around inside, all the while trying to stem the blood flow with the provided cloth. Earlier in their journey, Pyre had provided Autumn with a small pot of healing cream devised from her own recipe. While it¡¯d not proved as effective as say her witch-brewed one and not even close to a ¡®minor¡¯ healing potion, it was the best she had. Within moments, she¡¯d found it and, with a combination of her knife and teeth to cut up some spare cloth into bandages, she had her wounded fingers slathered and bound.

    It was a good thing too, for just as she finished, the last of the others arrived down the crystal slide of death, albeit with a lot less screaming.

    Leshana grinned at Autumn as she came to a graceful stop. ¡°Hells Autumn. That¡¯s a decent pair of lungs you got on you!¡±

    ¡°Already made that joke.¡± Vuriac chimed in from the side without turning away from surveilling their surroundings.

    ¡°Thief!¡± Leshana mock-gasped. ¡°You low-down scoundrel!¡±

    Vuriac just rolled his eyes.

    ¡°If you¡¯re quite done, I¡¯ve got us a heading. The footprints all head in one direction. North, I think. Let¡¯s get to it, shall we?¡±

    Amidst the idle bickering and banter, the group set off, falling back into a familiar formation.

    As was above, so it was below; silence reigned supreme in the underground. However, it was not a total silence. Every so often, they¡¯d hear the reverberating sound of crystal upon crystal. At first, they thought it might simply be the gentle shifting in the earth that caused the crystal pillars to rub up against one another, but as they moved through the crystal forest, it soon became clear to them that it was not the case.

    Autumn was the first to see them.

    Hidden amongst the myriad towers were a variety of animals; deer, boars, birds, and lizards, but these were not of flesh and bone. No, these were of the same crystalline state as the forest itself, and the sounds they¡¯d been hearing were of these strange beasts feasting on the smallest of crystals that littered the floor.

    ¡°Great.¡± Leshana stated suddenly upon being informed and finally seeing them for herself. ¡°The first animals we find and we can¡¯t even eat them.¡±

    Autumn grimaced. She herself only had a day¡¯s worth of rations remaining. There was no need for her to ask if the others had any to spare. Judging by the grim looks on their faces, she might be the most well off of the group.

    Reminded of the precarious nature of their supplies, the group picked up their pace.

    The hours melted past the group, moving both slow and fast. It was hard for the group to make any progress through the maze of crystals. Not only was the ground littered with innumerable crystal spikes, but the prismatic nature of their surroundings also amplified their light into blinding beams. It grew so bad that they had to dim their lanterns rather low just to see the way forward and not step on the aforementioned spikes.

    Suddenly, the group came to a halt, catching Autumn off guard as she¡¯d been lulled into a trance-like state by the exhausting march.

    Tension gripped the group in a tight hold, and all signs of playfulness vanished.

    Looking further ahead, Autumn could see that it was Vuriac who¡¯d signaled the stop. After a beat, he signaled back to Autumn to move up. Swallowing her new nerves, she complied.

    With soft footsteps, Autumn quickly reached the Elven ranger¡¯s position. Upon seeing her, Vuriac held up a hand for silence, and with her nod of understanding, gestured forward in the direction they were traveling. Looking over, Autumn had to stifle a noise of surprise.

    They¡¯d caught up with the owner of the footprints, and they were not of the convoy.

    Before Autumn¡¯s black eyes was a whirlpool of grief disguised as a being, a beast of unrelenting hunger and cannibalistic greed. It stood upright, naked; a parody of man save for a leonine head. But that was as far as the comparison to anything humane went, for it possessed no soul, no guiding light of virtue or civilization. It was¡­other. Other in a way that made Autumn sick, like she was looking at something that should not be, should not exist. A stain on the canvas of the world. Something¡­eldritch, and not in any way that looked, felt, or smelt familiar.

    A being from beyond.

    Beyond what? Autumn could not say, nor did she wish to.

    ¡°What do you think?¡±

    Vuriac¡¯s soft whisper broke Autumn away from her spiraling thoughts. She turned to him and said a thousand words with a single shake of her head and a haunted look in her eyes.

    A look to say just no.

    Vuriac took in that look and nodded, his hand tightening around his bow. Swiftly, hand signals¡ªwhich Autumn absentmindedly found she could read clearly¡ªwere sent to the others, and the party began readying for conflict. They spread out into as best of a formation as they could in the confines of the crystal maze.

    They approached as quietly as they could to surround the lion-man¡ªno, the monster.

    However, it proved to not be quiet enough. Hearing their approach, the monster turned.

    Everyone froze.

    While everyone else only saw a face of mourning, glittering with shed tears and a friendly countenance, Autumn saw that it was false. A play, one put on, perhaps unbeknown to even itself. There was no life behind those eyes. Nothing but a void that ate and ate and ate¡­forever.

    And then¡­he began to speak.

    ¡°H??????????????????????e???????????????????????????l??????????????????????????????l???????????????o?????????????!?????????????????????????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????????????????????????????F??????????????????????????????????????????r???????????????????????????????i??????????????????????????????e??????????????????????????????n?????????????d?????????????????????s????????????????????????.????????????? ???????????????????????????????????????????A????????????????????????????????????????r????????????????????????????????????????e???????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????y???????????????????????????????????????????????????o????????????????????????????????????????????u???????????????????????????????? ????????l??????????????????????????????????????????????????o???????????????????????????????s??????????????????????????????t???????????????????????????,???????????????????????????????????? ?????????????????????????????t???????????????????????????o??????????????????????????o???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????¡±

    Autumn screamed.

    Rusty nails of pain drove themselves into her skull. There were no words in its speech, only violation. The foul and tainted beast before them possessed no language of its own, nothing born of culture or community, so it stole. It reached into their skulls and ripped free what it wanted.

    Normally, this theft would go unnoticed, its very nature allowed it so, foul as it might be.

    However, the problem was, Autumn had transcended language.

    Of course, she¡¯d tried to lie to herself. To tell herself that it was only the languages of mortals, written and spoken that she knew, but it was much more than that. Few could speak and understand the Fae after all. However, it wasn¡¯t just the immortal-kind that damned her so. The wind in the trees spoke to her of the coming storms. Animals and people practically shouted their intentions in the way they moved¡ªeven if they had little to say. Buildings too whispered their history in the language of time, written upon their weathered faces.

    Autumn just didn¡¯t want to see or hear.

    So, when the beast had reached into her mind and tried to scoop out what she could understand, it spoke¡­..

    Everything.

 Chapter Sixty-Nine: Pop Goes the Weasel!

    When Autumn next opened her eyes, she was in a dream.

    A world of brine revealed itself to her mortal eyes. Long stalks of a kelp forest waved in the ebb and flow of the watery deep. Swimming amongst them were fish of great and gargantuan size, none of which Autumn had lain eyes upon before, whether in person or in books. They glid and glided past her without a care in the depth without a surface. If one were brave enough to look up, they¡¯d never see an end; the waters stretched on into infinity.

    Autumn walked on endlessly, pushing her way through the waves. She was unsure of her ultimate destination, but found herself keen to an obsessive degree to find it. It was as if her life depended on it.

    Something called to her. Something nestled in the deep.

    It was like she¡¯d just awoken from a nightmare to only realize it was her life she¡¯d dreamed¡­but also knew she was dreaming still.

    A dream within a dream.

    And then the stalks parted.

    He rose out of the surf between worlds; a being of the darkness of life, of creation and before its ilk. Great tentacles swayed in the everflowing waters of death and mortal terror. They were endless, yet could be seen in their entirety, but couldn¡¯t, but could, but couldn¡¯t. They broke the mind in their scale.

    Black eyes, a pair of which haunted humanity for eons, stared unblinking, for if they blinked even once they would end all things¡­or do just the opposite. They pierced all the same; drove a nail into Autumn''s soul, but at the same time¡­didn¡¯t.

    A name rang in Autumn¡¯s mind like a thousand broken bells, decrying the foolish who sought to name the nameless, bind the boundless, to make real the unreal.

    Cthulhu.

    He was not a god. Not in any way a sane mind might hope to know. He was something¡­more, or perhaps less. His glorious body was made from the darkness that dwelled between the stars, of the twinkling dying of nothing, born before the universe uttered its first cry. He¡¯d existed before existence dared to exist.

    He was before the idea of was¡­was.

    The dreamer dreamt a dream of dreaming.

    Autumn was but a mad witness to the glory of him. To that slumbering glory of madness itself. But in that madness, she was saved.

    The Call of Cthulhu rumbled the waves as she was finally noticed.

    A choked gasp of blood cleared Autumn¡¯s throat as she awoke. Awoke back into the nightmare of the real. Back to fear, pain, and a dreadful ringing in her ears. Her face felt hot and wet. After wiping her eyes clear, Autumn glanced down at her hands and saw they were coated crimson.

    Confused and afraid, Autumn glanced around.

    Their foe was gone. Well, to be more specific, he was everywhere. Upon uttering the unfortunate words in every language and beyond, he¡¯d burst like an overfilled balloon, sending both himself and everyone else flying from the shockwave of unearned power.

    Hazy with pain, Autumn tried to stand, only to frown in confusion as her legs failed to obey. Her eyes glanced down at her misbehaving limbs, but what she saw drew a shocked utterance from her lips before she could stop it.

    ¡°¡­oh.¡± She exclaimed.

    A crystalline spike jutted out of her stomach, right where her spine should have been.

    ¡°This shouldn¡¯t be there.¡± Autumn muttered in shock between wracking coughs of blood and phlegm.

    Desperately, Autumn tried to free herself of her impalement upon the sharp crystal, but her struggling only amounted to little more than pain and lacerated hands. The blood upon her face impaired her vision as she glanced around for help, but she could still make out the towering form of Bardos not too far away. With an outstretched hand, she pleaded with the berserker, ¡°¡®Cough¡¯ Bardos¡­Help me.¡± But the lone berserker did not respond. He just stared at Autumn with unwavering orange eyes.

    ¡°Bardos¡­¡± she pleaded once more. ¡°...help.¡±

    He did not move.

    And as her hazy eyes cleared, Autumn saw why. The explosion had driven back Bardos the same as Autumn into the sharp spears that surrounded them. However, unlike Autumn, the one that pierced him had driven straight through his heart, killing him in an instant.

    His dead eyes stared out Autumn in judgment.

    Confused, Autumn looked away. Her eyes roamed over the blasted clearing, skating over the gore and broken crystals until they settled onto Val¨¦rie¡¯s back. The Lepus¡¯ woman was hunched over the broken form of Rarg, holding onto his body tightly as she rocked back and forth, muttering a spring of nonsensical words under her breath all the while.

    Struggling for breath, Autumn called out to her, but the Lepus woman didn¡¯t hear, just kept rocking back and forth as she cradled Rarg in her arms.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t bother.¡± A familiar voice called out, but it was twisted into an unfamiliar, cruel pattern of speech. Like a frog trying to die. ¡°There¡¯s nothing behind those pretty eyes anymore.¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Footsteps sounded in the dark.

    ¡°One would have thought Witch Augus¡¯...¡± she hissed the name, ¡°¡­pretty little apprentice would have known how to shield her mind from pests like that lion-headed one, but I guess she¡¯s not as good a teacher as she is a nuisance, huh? Hehehehe¡±

    The cackling laughter of one who¡¯d never known genuine humor erupted into the cavern. It was awful and grotesque, even covered as it was by a pretty voice. A threat to the senses. Foul and unholy.

    Striding out of the gloam behind the cackle came a frighteningly familiar feminine form.

    That of Leshana.

    ¡°You?!¡± Autumn croaked out as the ¡®Elf¡¯ stopped beside Val¨¦rie. A slim and once kind hand came down gently upon the bunny-folk¡¯s crown. Val¨¦rie didn¡¯t seem to notice, she just kept rocking back and forth while muttering unintelligible things. It was almost like the thing in Leshana¡¯s skin was petting her.

    ¡®Leshana¡¯ grinned at Autumn. ¡°Me!¡± she said and squeezed.

    Val¨¦rie¡¯s lifeless and now headless body crumpled to the ground.

    ¡°But¡­I thought.¡± Autumn croaked out between hacking coughs.

    ¡°You thought?¡± ¡®Leshana¡¯ mocked. ¡°Did you perhaps mean that poor little Inferni welp? What was her name? Ah, who cares.¡± ¡®Leshana¡¯ snapped her fingers and Yuupis stepped into Autumn¡¯s sight. ¡°Oh, this one, right? Corpse Puppet is quite the useful spell, dontcha know? It keeps nosy little witches focused right where I want them. If you thought your little ¡®sight¡¯ was going to help you, then you¡¯re more foolish than I¡¯d wagered. I¡¯m almost offended. Any half-rate hag fresh outta her swamp could sense it, screaming as you were, and craft a false shield against it.¡±

    Snapping her fingers again, the body of Yuupis crumpled to the ground. ¡®Leshana¡¯ stared at it disinterestedly, like a child with a broken toy they were done with.

    ¡°Poor girl. She drowned, you know? Oh, how she struggled with my hands around her delicate throat.¡± She licked her lips, the sight more than strange while she wore Leshana¡¯s face.

    ¡°Not that it mattered in the end. You ruined all the fun things I had planned for you.¡±

    ¡®Leshana¡¯ stalked across the space towards Autumn, her eyes burning with a crazed hunger and anger.

    ¡°I had such a wonderful play all lined up for you.¡± Slender steel-like fingers latched onto Autumn¡¯s face, forcing her to look up into a pair of burning, inhumane eyes. Yet, for some reason, she didn¡¯t hurt her. Not any further than she already was, anyhow.

    ¡°First,¡± she hissed, ¡°I¡¯d pick off one or two of them, in perhaps a spectacularly, deliciously brutal fashion. Make you wonder: Oh, who can I trust?~,¡± She mocked her in a parody of Autumn¡¯s own voice. ¡°Then, oh then, I¡¯d slowly, ever so slowly, kill the rest! Do it one by one until you couldn¡¯t take it anymore. I even had this to stoke the suspicions.¡±

    Letting go of Autumn, she withdrew from her bag Autumn¡¯s wand. Witch Augus¡¯ wand.

    ¡°Imagine my surprise when I saw this old thing floating down my river. I haven¡¯t seen this in so very long. Figures that old bitch would¡¯ve discarded it with the rest of her trash.¡± she gestured dismissively to Autumn and her hat. ¡°What would you have done? I wonder. If you¡¯d found it amongst their belongings, hmm? Well, it doesn''t matter now.¡±

    The thing in Leshana¡¯s skin held Autumn¡¯s wand between two foul hands and bent it with a grin, relishing the look of horror on Autumn¡¯s bloodied face. The wand bent and bent until finally¡­it broke.

    A howl of magical agony erupted in the space as the wand snapped in two. With a decidedly cruel disregard, she chucked the shattered pieces away like they were no more than trash in her eyes.

    The sound of them clattering rang in Autumn¡¯s mind.

    ¡°Where was I? Oh, yes, the climax. With all your suspicion and fury, I¡¯d guide you into ¡®murdering¡¯ the poor Inferni girl. Oh, you¡¯d feel all righteous about it as your kind always do, but then I¡¯d reveal myself and unveil you for the monster you are. Just the same as you like to call me and my kind. It¡¯d have been¡­delectable.¡± She shuddered, a look of euphoria ghosted over her stolen elven features. However, it soon morphed into a rictus of rage.

    ¡°But then you had to go and RUIN IT!!!¡±

    Spittle flew as she yelled in Autumn¡¯s face, grasping tight to Autumn¡¯s jaw once more. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to clench tight and rip Autumn¡¯s jaw clean off, but she held off, belayed by some whispering thought of reason flickering behind her eyes of wrath.

    ¡°No.¡± she muttered. ¡°A little shit like you isn¡¯t worth the trouble of those two.¡±

    Autumn gurgled as she was let go.

    ¡®Leshana¡¯ looked down disdainfully at Autumn¡¯s stomach and the spike longed within.

    ¡°Oh, right. That.¡± She tutted. ¡°This was all your fault, you know. Nothing I could or couldn¡¯t have done to prevent you from blowing your fool self up. Right?¡± She asked the surrounding void, a rare look of caution overtaking her features. ¡°Who was I to know the fool girl had too much in her mind that those pests would go pop like that?¡±

    When nothing responded she calmed.

    Autumn gurgled. She was drowning in her own blood and her eyes were getting rather heavy. The sound of a gentle river swayed into and out of her hearing and a lone ferryman raised his head to meet her. The one friend she truly had.

    He shook his head sadly.

    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± A shock rocked through Autumn''s body, forcing her awake and coughing out a lung full of blood. ¡°I ain¡¯t done witcha yet.¡±

    All Autumn saw now was a foul grin. Living, she felt, would not be a fun outcome.

    Autumn spat out the rest of the blood in her throat. ¡°Where¡¯s¡­¡¯cough¡¯...where¡¯s Leshana. The real Leshana.¡±

    The fake grinned.

    ¡°Where do you think I got this skin?¡±

    Reaching up, she grasped her onto her grinning face and tore; the skin coming away like taffy. Below it was a nightmare. Like a spider emerging from a cocoon that was far too small. She rose on twisted limbs and bulging muscles. The weight of her sinful hide had her hunching over on a crooked spine, supported by a pair of wolf-like legs and a pair of too-long arms of gangly flesh that cracked the ground as they landed upon it. And from behind a sackcloth hood stitched skin, a pair of ruinous eyes glared.

    Out had come Finger Eater Mildred, and she was looking to play.

    ¡°Now,¡± she growled, her voice like a thousand rusty razor blades, ¡°where was I?¡±

 Chapter Seventy: The Tome of the Blackest Craft

    As Autumn lay impaled on the shiny spike of fate, she wondered: just what had she done to deserve this? What twisted and cruel deed had she unwittingly committed to be cursed this way?

    Why exactly was fate shitting all over her life?

    To her, it seemed like an overreaction on fate¡¯s part.

    Mildred, the eater of fingers, loomed over Autumn, glaring down at her with horrifying eyes and foul breath. Each exhale of the putrid air through rotten teeth tarnished everything it touched. It stained Autumn¡¯s robes even further than they¡¯d already been by the underground.

    ¡°My my. What a fine mess you¡¯ve made of yourself.¡±

    Mildred¡¯s horrible eyes wandered gleefully over Autumn¡¯s wounded form, like a fox before a trapped rabbit. Autumn herself was only alive right now because of the hag¡¯s foul magic.

    Why?

    Autumn wasn¡¯t sure she wanted to know.

    A fleeting thought brushed past Autumn¡¯s wandering mind. It was proving hard for her to keep focus given the lack of blood and the pain she was in. She wondered just how much fear could a person endure, could she endure, before their heart just¡­gave in?

    Autumn had a cat once when she was little. A funny little thing. Every so often, it¡¯d catch a mouse for her and bring it inside the house, where it¡¯d torment the poor thing till it died of a heart attack. She¡¯d also read somewhere that horses and deer could die of fright, too. Although she wasn¡¯t so sure of that.

    Mildred reminded her of that cat, just not the cute part, or little, or funny.

    Those awful eyes watched like a predator.

    However, Autumn noticed, even in the horrible state she was in, a glimmer of trepidation as she gazed upon Autumn¡¯s wounds. Like she was afraid¡ªno, not afraid¡ªworried about something. Sort of like that cat, knowing it''d done something wrong in bringing the mouse inside and was wondering if it¡¯d get scolded.

    Worried of what? Of who? Autumn couldn¡¯t say, but she paid attention.

    Autumn spluttered, a fresh wave of blood leaving her lips.

    The hag started.

    ¡°Hmm,¡± she muttered as she eyed Autumn, ¡°best not take any chances. Not with that lot, at least.¡±

    A long clawed hand wrapped around Autumn¡¯s throat like a steel vice, the curling fingers almost, but not quite, pinching off her airways. Autumn fought and struggled to pull the fingers away, but it was for naught, she could not pry them off. Her finger inched for her blade, any blade she had, in the hope that it¡¯d at least cut the bitch.

    Go out swinging. What a fine way to go.

    The hag leered at Autumn, a grin staining her cackling voice. ¡°I¡¯d hold still if I was you, girlie. This¡¯ll hurt a lot. I¡¯d be lying if I said I won¡¯t enjoy this.¡±

    Before Autumn could utter a word of pleading, or a myriad of swears, Mildred the hag tore Autumn free of the crystalline spike.

    Pain.

    It was all Autumn could think of as her mind whited out. Her wretched, tormented screams ripped free of her tortured throat and echoed out into the entire expansive cavern, reverberating the crystals all around, even cracking some. Her screams only gutted out when her throat bled from the abuse. With gritted teeth and sweat beading on her forehead, Autumn glared at the hag before her.

    ¡°Awww. Poor whittle witch~ Did that hurt?¡± Mildred mocked Autumn¡¯s pain.

    Autumn hung limply from the hag¡¯s grasp, her legs limp and unresponsive. From the raw, ragged wound in her stomach, her blood and guts spilled free. Crimson ran down her lower half until it pooled beneath her like an eerie lake.

    Mildred ¡®tsked¡¯ at the sight. ¡°Now that won¡¯t do.¡±

    With a flex of her cracked and yellowed fingers, the gaping wound in Autumn¡¯s abdomen writhed. Autumn watched on in stunned horror as her very flesh and bones came alive and started to mend. Her guts, looking like long strands of shredded spaghetti, were sucked back into her abdomen with a squelch while her blood reversed its downward direction to flood back into her body. The sudden rush made her even more lightheaded. Much like the hag herself, the magic she cast was cruel. It subjected Autumn to every painful feeling, every torturous movement. To her, it felt like her body was filled with maggots, and was remade by them, with them. In but a few moments, the last of her flesh closed up, and left her with pale scars criss-crossing her abdomen that looked like a mesh of the maggots they¡¯d felt like.

    Autumn puked.

    Unfortunately, she missed the hag.

    Mildred scowled at her anyway. ¡°Wretch!¡±

    As Autumn hung limp and exhausted from the hag¡¯s steel-like grasp, a soothing coldness bloomed upon her chest. From within the soul cage resting upon her breast, an aura of undeath and icy fury radiated. Mildred, eater of fingers, didn¡¯t seem to notice it, or simply didn¡¯t care, her focus on other things. However, to Autumn, it was an oddly comforting feeling. She blamed it on her overtaxed mind.

    Within the halls of her mind, she heard an echoing chant, ¡°Kill her. Kill her.¡±

    ¡°There.¡± Mildred hissed, bringing Autumn¡¯s attention back to her. ¡°All in one piece.¡±

    Glancing down at Autumn¡¯s missing fingers she frowned. ¡°Well. Relatively, at least.¡±

    Flexing her foul fingers once more, she tried to regrow Autumn¡¯s lost digits, however, nothing happened. Frowning deeper she gazed at the wound upon Autumn¡¯s very being before huffing.

    ¡°Ah, a Fae-made wound. Those nasty buggers bite deep don¡¯t they, right down into your very essence. There¡¯ll be no fixing that, I¡¯m afraid. It¡¯s a part of you, your very soul. As far as anyone is concerned in terms of magic: you never had them. So, you still count as ¡®intact¡¯ in my books.¡±

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Mildred¡¯s gaze sharpened.

    ¡°Speaking of books.¡±

    Autumn paled as Mildred reached for her Tome of Witchcraft. Desperate to keep the foul hag away from it and the dark power that resided within, Autumn squirmed and fought, drawing her iron knife from its hidden sheath to cut the hand that held her. In a flash, Mildred backhanded her wrist, flinging her iron knife away in a clatter. At first, Autumn feared the force of the strike had broken her wrist, but to her surprise, she was unharmed. However, in her moment of distraction, Mildred ripped her tome free from her, tearing the leather bindings that¡¯d held it to her belt.

    ¡°Give that back!¡± Autumn yelled through choked breaths, ¡°It¡¯s mine!¡±

    Mildred stilled.

    ¡°Yours?¡± she asked incredulously, smoldering rage hidden beneath the calm surface. ¡°You don¡¯t even know what it is. Not truly. You carry it around like it¡¯s a Gods-damned scribe¡¯s library book!¡± Spittle flew as her voice rose.

    ¡°I know what it is.¡±

    Autumn glowered, her bravery creeping out from below the mountains and mountains of fear. Below her, she felt her toes finally twitching as the feeling in them returned, albeit with a cascade of pins and needles throughout.

    ¡°Do you?¡± Mildred sneered. She turned reverently, hatefully back to the tome of the blackest craft. ¡°This is The most powerful magical spell book in this fetid, squalid world. Wizards would cream their robes for just a glimpse inside and you just parade it around for all to see. Do you even know why I want it? No, I bet not. Why the bitch Augus left it to you of all people, I¡¯ll never know, but it¡¯s her mistake. It¡¯s mine now, and after I¡¯ve mastered it, I¡¯ll kill her too.¡±

    Autumn blinked, confused.

    ¡°What do you mean? I thought she was dead?¡±

    Mildred scoffed. ¡°See, this is what I¡¯m talking about. Your ignorance is absolutely nauseating.¡± She shook Autumn roughly, bouncing her brain around till she was dizzy and sick. ¡°She ain¡¯t dead, for you see; Witch Augus invented a spell, a spell so powerful it made everything else in comparison simply child¡¯s play.¡±

    The hag of a thousand pacts pulled Autumn closer to the rotting sack shielding whatever horror lay beneath, her breath was even fouler up close, her eyes more malevolent. Autumn gagged, but there wasn¡¯t anything left in her stomach to vomit. Her heart beat harder within her chest as the hag whispered a terrible and wondrous secret to her.

    ¡°And do you know what she called her Magnum Opus, hmm? An insipid name like¡­¡±

    The world held its breath alongside Autumn.

    ¡°Wish.¡±

    Autumn choked on her spit as her eyes shot wide open.

    Mildred let loose a horrible cackle as she took in Autumn¡¯s shock. With unconcealed contempt, she flung Autumn away like she was just a piece of trash, or a toy she had no longer had any use for. Autumn let loose a pained grunt as she crashed down upon the hard dirt and scattered broken crystals, only a few managing to scratch her skin through the torn robes. Collecting her bearings and swallowing down her nausea, Autumn tried to rise, but found she could not and was left sprawling in the blood-soaked dirt. Her gaze shot up to the hag towering above and the book she held. Mildred held it victoriously in her crooked hands, preparing to open it and devour its contents.

    With it she¡¯d become a dark new god and doom the world.

    ¡°Finally!¡± Mildred roared. ¡°It¡¯s mine!¡±

    Her cruel claws wrenched at the covers.

    The book did not open.

    Mildred scowled behind her cloth mask, her confusion and frustration evident in her curled-over posture. She grasped the cover once more and with renewed effort tried to tear it open, but no matter how much effort she leveled against it, the book remained tightly bound, refusing to open for her. Powerful, corded muscles bulged into grotesque sizes as she strained. Foulest magic flooded the atmosphere till it warbled and shrieked as she pulled and pulled.

    Yet, the book remained closed to her.

    Autumn watched on in confusion as the book had never acted like this for her. In fact, she¡¯d suspected that any sort of protection had faded away completely. Granted, she¡¯d never had anyone else try to open it before.

    Finally, after an age of effort, Mildred stilled, growing taut with anger. It radiated off her like waves of all-consuming heat.

    Slowly, she turned to face Autumn, her eyes ablaze.

    Autumn swallowed her fear. Was it triumph she was feeling or just horror?

    ¡°I see now,¡± Mildred said in a furiously icy whisper, like the calm before a storm or the crack before an avalanche, heralding great violence. ¡°They promised me the lock while taking away the key. Clever, very clever.¡±

    Fear coiled in Autumn¡¯s breast, threatening to choke her heart, but she¡¯d had enough. With a flex of will that powered through the pain, Autumn corralled it all into her hat, where it sat like a leashed monster awaiting her command, leaving her with only anger, frustration, and a stupid plan. Drawing her iron sword, Autumn rose on shaking feet, using it not as a weapon but as a cane. The sound of metal on rocks resounded deathly loud in the utter silence of the cavern, not even broken by the tinkling of crystals or the run of water.

    Autumn sucked in a calming breath, ignoring the way it burned her throat and lungs. She looked up at the furious hag across from her and smiled. A smile that lacked any sort of warmth.

    ¡°Maybe you aren¡¯t as clever as you think you are?¡±

    The air was still. Autumn could admit that maybe, just maybe, it wasn¡¯t a good idea to taunt an irate hag, but that was kinda the point of her frankly stupid plan. While a little late in the end, she¡¯d figured it out. It wasn¡¯t like it was that hard in the end, given the hag¡¯s muttering when she thought Autumn wasn¡¯t listening, but it was the smell that gave her away.

    ¡°You made a pact with the fae, didn¡¯t you? I was wondering what that horrid stench was. Well, besides you that is,¡± Autumn said, a mocking tilt to her voice. ¡°You can¡¯t hurt me, can you?¡±

    After a beat of silence that weighed heavier than a mountain of corpses, Mildred spoke.

    ¡°Can¡¯t and won¡¯t are two entirely different things, girl. Don¡¯t get them twisted up.¡±

    Autumn shook her head with a wry grin. ¡°Nah, you can¡¯t or you¡¯ll break the agreement. That¡¯s why you''ve not done anything to me, and why you fixed me up right? What¡¯s the consequences? Let me guess, it¡¯s the book right?¡±

    Silence greeted her, confirming her hypothesis.

    Autumn shuffled from foot to foot, trying to regain any sort of feeling in them. She was no fool¡­well, maybe a little, but she knew that her words would more than likely provoke a fight. Even so, Autumn was resolved. Ever since she¡¯d met the ferryman, that personification of death, she knew she was doomed. That was the story, right? The hero meets death and thinks they¡¯ve escaped with their life, only to realize later that they never made it. She was half-convinced this was all a dream, and she was still on that boat, heading down the River Styx to her afterlife.

    And if so, she¡¯d poke a hag in the eye on her way down.

    Not to mention that she couldn¡¯t let the hag get to that spell.

    The only thing she wondered was: should she have it? Or was that an equally bad outcome?

    Finally, after a long silence, Mildred, the eater of fingers, exhaled. ¡°My dear girl. You seem to be making two very poor assumptions about me.¡±

    Autumn raised an eyebrow as she tensed. ¡°Oh yeah?¡±

    ¡°One: you assume I can¡¯t make your life a living hell without harming you.¡±

    Autumn gulped.

    ¡°And two: you assume I can¡¯t deal with the consequences of breaking a pact with some piddling Fae.¡±

    A pair of ruinous, blazing eyes locked onto Autumn¡¯s rapidly blackening eyes. She grinned so spitefully, so vicious and malign that it could be heard in her voice.

    ¡°I can.¡±

    ¡°...oh.¡±

 Chapter Seventy-One: Rumble in the Underground

    Magic screamed as a baleful claw raked across a conjured purple shield, sending sparks and shards of fear scattering. Autumn flinched back. While her shield had stopped the strike in place, it still felt like she¡¯d taken a sledgehammer to the chest. The magical drain from her well matched that feeling. It looked like her taunting had worked a bit too well, as the hag with burning eyes wanted to rip the young witch limb from limb.

    Mildred growled like a furious beast at seeing her strike foiled.

    Quicker than a blink of an eye, the hag had crossed the open space that divided them in a single, loping bound. The sudden assault was too fast for Autumn to track. It was only Nethlia¡¯s rigorous training that saved her life.

    A purple gloom hung between the two combatants and in the time it did so, they glared a deep enmity between one another.

    It flickered out.

    Autumn hurled herself aside in a hurry. A claw wreathed in twisting curses blazed past her face by mere inches, narrowly avoiding having her face carved apart. However on her hip one of her charms snapped, declaring she¡¯d not escaped as unscathed as she first thought.

    Only two charms remained.

    Autumn hit the blood-soaked ground with a grunt, her heart beating a mile a minute from the close shave. Above her loomed the hag, claws flashing to strike again and tear her asunder.

    Like a venomous serpent, a battered and scorned iron blade lashed out.

    Ever wary of blades that snicker and snack, Mildred flew back on thundering steps. However, the young witch¡¯s strike had not meant to carve or cut, only drive the hag from her perch above her, allowing her to rise. And rise she did on stumbling steps. She now stood on firmer feet to glare upon the fled hag.

    Mildred glared back.

    They stood across from each other in an arena of gore and shattered crystals, lit only by the magical lanterns of the discarded dead. It cast them in an otherworldly light that reflected and bounced through the towering pillars.

    Autumn¡¯s back was awash with sweat.

    She blinked, and foul magic flew.

    A wave of curses, hexes, and rotting maladies crashed like breaking waves across the spell-shield that she conjured without a word. Behind her Aversion, Autumn sweated as her magic rapidly drained. She was in a bind, as without her wand, she lacked any means of casting at range. There was the option of trying to force her jinx through without a magical medium, but that felt foolish. At best she¡¯d fail outright, at worst she might lose an arm when her magical channels exploded.

    Not really an option to consider right now.

    Thundering steps drew Autumn¡¯s attention. Casting her eyes towards the sound, she looked past the blinding waves of corruption, only for them to widen in fright as she spied Mildred charging her way. Autumn quickly shifted her spell-shield to the side to catch and deflect the however many tons of hag barreling towards her. Even so, she was still sent stumbling away as Mildred crashed into her.

    Ragged nails shrieked across the purple glow.

    ¡°Stop squirming, you pesky worm! Be a good girlie and die!¡± Mildred growled out.

    Again and again, the pair clashed with might and magic. They were testing each other, searching for any weaknesses to exploit.

    Quicker than she¡¯d like, Autumn was forced on the back foot. Mildred was proving faster, stronger, and more skilled than the young witch. Her wealth of experience in dealing with foolish adventures was just too high of a wall to hurdle.

    Yet, Autumn still stood a chance. For as angered as she was by Autumn¡¯s taunts, Mildred was still holding back; the spells and hexes that were splashing across Autumn¡¯s shield weren¡¯t of the flavor that¡¯d necessarily ¡®harm¡¯ her. That¡¯s not to say they wouldn¡¯t do something¡­unpleasant, just not ¡®harmful.¡¯

    Perhaps they¡¯d turn her into a toad or a newt?

    Autumn was forced down onto one knee as Mildred pressed into her with a roaring stream of black flames. They washed over her spell-shield like a sable nightmare, coating her world in an oily film of darkness. Slowly, the mountains of fear that Autumn had collected chipped away, flooding down her magical veins in order to keep her safe.

    It burned.

    Autumn gritted her teeth as sweat now dotted her brow. Frantically, she cast her blackened eyes around her for anything that¡¯d aid her. Surrounding her feet was a scattering of broken crystals, some only the size of her thumb while just further away, out of reach, lay her iron knife.

    A plan bloomed in Autumn¡¯s mind. A horrible, stupid plan, but a plan nonetheless.

    With one hand, Autumn scooped up as many broken crystals as she could and dumped them into her coat pockets, its ragged seams somehow still holding together. Taking one in hand, Autumn focused. In the Tome of Witchcraft, there were many spells¡ªor rather constructs¡ªthat directed her to infuse her magic into objects. The bone totems, alarm wards, and hex charms she¡¯d made before being a prime example of this. This process had to be managed carefully as infusing too much power into an object that couldn¡¯t house it would result in a rather violent explosion¡ªor so the book had said.

    However, right now, what she wanted was violence.

    Autumn blocked out the hag¡¯s horrific cackling, who seemed content to drain Autumn¡¯s reserves with a deluge of dark flames. Something that she was oddly thankful for right now, as it meant that she had time to work. If the hag actually took her seriously, she didn¡¯t know how long she¡¯d hold up against the worst the hag could throw at her.

    Focus.

    Autumn corralled her wayward thoughts. She needed every scrap of concentration she could muster. Trying to split her mind between infusing the crystal with power and keeping her spell-shield powered was incredibly hard; she was thankful that her methods were rather brute force and didn¡¯t require any complex thinking. What she was doing right now was the magical equivalent of rubbing your belly and patting your head, only with an angry hag ready to kill you if you mess up.

    Autumn managed it even so. Magic poured into the crystal in her hand, shaking wildly as it did so, turning darker by the second till it was a deep purple. Still not content, Autumn pressed her will into the crystal and forced it to take in more of her power, more than it could allow. And under the attention of her grand might, it shook with terrible violence.

    Black eyes rose and met with burning orbs.

    Mildred sneered at her, thinking her cowed, but Autumn just smiled a wicked, taunting smile and let fly with her Fear Bomb?.

    She¡¯d workshop the name later.

    Sneering eyes turned to shock as the overfilled crystal emerged through the wall of magical flames. With how unstable it already was, the crystal could not last long beyond the witch¡¯s control and, upon contacting the whirling flames, it exploded.

    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    A violent violet display roared into life, the booming sound rocking the cavern to its foundations. The crystal towers that surrounded them cracked from the thunderous detonation. Nearby, a pillar could not hold itself up anymore and fell to the earth with such force that it quaked the ground and rent the air.

    Mildred shrilly shrieked as she recoiled in surprise, pain, and rage. The dark flames cut off with a snap as her concentration on them broke.

    As soon as they did, Autumn dropped her own concentration, letting the spell-shield fade and hurled herself to the side towards her knife. With a quickness, she scooped it up and channeled her magic into it, same as the crystal. Over the iron blade crept a purple stain and within moments it strained to contain what she¡¯d gifted it, vibrating in her palm.

    By now, the foul hag had recovered from the blast. She looked none the worse for wear besides a scorch across her mask and a few splinters embedded within. Yet, despite that, the rage in her eyes burned ever deeper, ever fiercer with indignation.

    ¡°YOU!¡± The word came out as a hiss.

    ¡°Me.¡± Autumn grinned a grim grin.

    A wordless roar, a howl of hate, erupted forth, and a tide of loathsome magic followed in its wake. More crystals shattered as it lashed out at all it could touch. The few crystalline animals foolish enough to stick around were crushed and pulped into a thousand shards. From within the bubbling shadows that slinked behind the cruel hag burst forth a pack of crow-hounds, eager to do the finger-eater¡¯s bidding. Baying in their odd chirping clicks, they locked their red eyes onto Autumn.

    However, that was not all the hag had deigned to level upon the defiant young witch.

    With a twist of her curled fingers, she sent out fireballs of the darkest magics. They exploded all around Autumn, engulfing her in curse-flames. Hurriedly, Autumn raised her shields, but doing so left her open. A beam of sickly energy punctured the purple shield before she could react and slammed into her, seeking to petrify her limbs.

    Upon her waist, another charm broke, and so did the hag¡¯s curse.

    Only one charm remained.

    Mildred snarled as her hex failed.

    ¡°Go, my pets!¡±

    The crow-hounds scurried forth to obey the rasping roar of their master. They wound their way across the blasted arena on sharp talons and claws, beaked jaws clicking and clacking. As they drew near her, they lunged for her limbs with razor-sharp beaks.

    But Autumn was not fooled.

    They were muzzled, just like their master, and could not harm her. At least, not without consequence.

    The razor-beaks slammed shut in ineffectual bites well before they¡¯d ever threaten her. They were never meant to hurt her, only to corral her, keep her in place long enough for their master to wear through her protections and finally catch her with a curse or hex.

    Autumn wasn¡¯t willing to play that game.

    To the hound¡¯s surprise, she charged at them.

    The beasts scrambled away in shock. Those of them that either couldn¡¯t move away in time or tried to stop her, she met them with a boot or blade. They were left behind, whimpering from the deep gashes the witch had cut into bony hides or broken bones she¡¯d kicked into them to remember her by.

    Mildred snarled at the approaching girl. ¡°Fool!¡± She spat.

    ¡°Nuh uh. You are!¡±

    Another blast of sickly light splashed across her for her cheek.

    The last charm snapped.

    A pulse of fear rushed down Autumn¡¯s arm as she drew it back before flinging it forward with a snap. The knife rushed forth beyond her grasp, flying for the hag. To give her credit, Mildred tried to dodge, but Autumn had drawn close enough to her that missing would have taken far more skill. Already Autumn could feel her putrid breath tarnishing her fair skin once more.

    Mildred screamed in pain as the knife dug into her shoulder with an awful, meaty thud.

    Then it exploded into a thousand iron fragments.

    Autumn¡¯s ears popped at the deafening noise.

    Mildred recoiled in both pain and shock. While the wound itself was horrible, as if someone had taken a blender to her shoulder, it was more the fact that she¡¯d been hurt at all that rocked her. Hurt by some no-named little witch-girl. She swiveled her burning eyes back to the one who¡¯d done this deed.

    An iron blade slashed her forehead to jaw.

    Mildred lashed out instinctively.

    The aged metal that bound the Tome, still clutched in her spindly hand, cracked Autumn across the jaw.

    Upon the Throne of Spring, the Fae King turned.

    A Ferryman smiled, a coin in hand.

    And an old Witch laughed.

    Autumn blinked as she stumbled back from the blow. Working her jaw, she spat a broken tooth into her hand. She stared at it dumbly in the silence of the world, before raising her eyes up to the hag.

    ¡°Huh. You hurt me.¡±

    And she had.

    The pact was broken. Null and void. The Fair Maiden fumed.

    Mildred was silent. The hag of a thousand bloody pacts had been played, of that she now knew. Utterly and completely. She¡¯d thought herself the master of her own fate, the weaver of destinies, hers and those she bargained with, but she was just dancing to another¡¯s carefully crafted tune. Others had noticed her desire, her greed for godhood and they weren¡¯t keen to be neighbors.

    Was it all one plan? Had they conspired together to bring her low? Or had they just seen the opportunity and added their weight to the scales? To the trap.

    In her ears, she could only hear a familiar, hated laugh.

    Before Autumn could even react, a clawed hand clamped around her throat like a vise. She gurgled as it squeezed, cutting off her airway. Gone was the earlier caution. It crushed tighter and tighter, leaving Autumn dizzy as she dangled, feet not even scraping the ground.

    With blurry eyes, Autumn looked up. She wished she hadn¡¯t.

    Her earlier strike had split the mask upon the hag¡¯s face, unveiling the nightmare within. What she saw could not be even charitably called a face. It was a ruin, like some unskilled sculptor had tried¡ªand failed¡ªto create a face from a description they¡¯d gotten from a blind man who had forgotten what a face even was.

    Autumn wanted nothing more than to look away from the curse-struck visage, but the hand that held her was unbreakable, forcing her to look.

    ¡°I guess I¡¯m doing it the hard way!¡± Mildred said, voice quaking with never-ending fury.

    Autumn kicked and struggled. Her iron sword cut and carved into the hag¡¯s wicked hide, but nothing would distract the foul hag from watching the life slowly leave Autumn¡¯s eyes.

    The world slowly blurred.

    Without the strength to hold it anymore, the iron sword tumbled from Autumn slackening grasp. It fell to the ground with a ringing clatter.

    A bloody, gap-toothed smile bloomed like a broken flower in the dark. A final defiance.

    ¡­

    Autumn glanced across the way. The Ferryman¡¯s boat rested upon the rocky shore that bordered the river of the dead. He held up a pair of tarnished gold coins: her debt to him.

    ¡­

    Soft spoken words drifted from the grandfather of all.

    ¡°A debt of two cannot be recalled. You have passed once, and can only pass once more. Mildred, I claim to one of your coins. She has yet to fall, and another you still owe.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    ¡°It is not your time.¡±

    ¡­

    ¡­

    Air rushed back into Autumn¡¯s starved lungs as she was suddenly dropped. She crashed down in a pile of tangled limbs, choking and spluttering as her bruised throat hauled in more vaunted oxygen.

    Mildred screamed a shrill, guttural cry.

    Autumn looked up. Through watery vision, she saw the hag clutching at her forearm, a long Elven arrow impaled straight through her wrist. Following her bloodthirsty gaze, Autumn¡¯s eyes landed upon a lone figure resting his weight against one crystal that ringed the arena of death, looking like death warmed over. The very canvas of his soul was a deep, somber blue.

    Vuriac looked across to Autumn with a sole remaining eye.

    ¡°Go! I¡¯ll hold her off!¡±

    Another arrow cut through the space, but snapped midair by a wave of the hag¡¯s hand.

    ¡°More of you wretches! I knew I should¡¯ve just eaten you all and been done with it!¡± Mildred snarled.

    The fury of the hag knew no end as she charged across the space. The young witch was all but forgotten, if only for now. Arrows peppered the hag¡¯s hide, few finding purchase.

    Heart thundering in her chest, Autumn drew forth all the might of her magic and poured it into her channels, into her soul. It dripped from her bleeding fingers, cut from the glass of the crystals. It fell down and down till it stained the shadows that pooled around her feet.

    ¡­and it ate her for it.

    The last thing Autumn saw before she fell into the black waters was Vuraic¡¯s death when the hag reached him.

    It was not pretty.

 Chapter Seventy-Two: Black Water Travels

    Autumn floated in a dark sea.

    There was nothing but her in the icy black water. She was the only fish swimming in this bleak ocean. It was a place of power, a darksome realm of forgotten things wedged into the cracks of reality.

    Only witches could find this place, as the great shadows welcomed no other.

    The waters themselves were heavy like oil and cold like sin, binding her battered body in a shroud of sodden robes as she floated weightless in the dark depth.

    Autumn was tired, her mind pressed down by a mountain of exhaustion. The black waters comforted her, sapped away at her plague of emotions till the turbulence of the mind receded and she was left with only a desire to sleep forever.

    ¡°Wake up.¡± A cold voice whispered into her mind.

    I¡¯m so tired. Leave me alone.

    ¡°Thee shall awake for thee has''t much worketh ahead of thee. Doth not forget thee gage. Thine pact.¡±

    Five more minutes.

    A cold shock pulsed through Autumn¡¯s soul, forcing her to wakefulness. Even so, it was a struggle to open her eyes.

    Slowly, Autumn took in the space she¡¯d found herself in. Above her hung an almost completely clear sheet of ice, reflecting an inversion of the world she¡¯d just left where the shadows now shone with light. To the left and right it extended on without end, only the image above grew blurrier the further out from her entry it got. Somehow, she innately knew that she could exit from any of the lit sections, as long as it wasn¡¯t too blurry.

    Looking through the frozen surface, Autumn could see the hag raging as she searched for the missing witch.

    It¡¯s all my fault.

    The bodies of the others lay scattered like dolls, their dead eyes tracking Autumn as she floated.

    Leshana, Vuriac, Bardos, Rarg, Val¨¦rie, even Yuupis¡­I¡¯m sorry. Please forgive me.

    ¡°They wast dead the moment the hag tooketh an interest in thee. Doth not lament that monster¡¯s choices, for the faults art not thy own. Only with might can save those how thee care for.¡±

    Autumn started. ¡®Banshee?¡¯

    ¡°Forsooth. And as much as thy drops of sorrow art worthy of action, peradventure we might abscond lest the hag above spy us in this watery realm?¡±

    Glancing up one final time, Autumn swam away as fast as she could.

    However, it didn¡¯t take her all that long to reach a point where the icy sheet above grew too blurry to make anything out beyond it and refused to give when she pressed up against it. Backtracking, Autumn swam back to an earlier point that had cracked under her exploration.

    Reluctantly, and with lungs burning, Autumn breached the surface. Immediately, she was best by the chaotic sounds of smashing crystals, baying hounds, and howls of hate.

    ¡°Where are you, wretch!!! When I find you, I¡¯ll flay the flesh from your bones!!!¡±

    In a hurry, Autumn dipped back into the shadows that housed the black waters. Thankfully, the hag hadn¡¯t spotted her brief appearance.

    Looking across the underside of the icy surface, Autumn saw that the reflection was as blurry as before. It was likely that she needed to exit and re-enter, presumably, she guessed, from another shadow.

    Autumn breathed out to calm herself, sending out a plume of bubbles. Reaching upwards, she grasped onto the cracked edges of the dark ocean and pulled herself out of the shadows like some cruel spirit.

    Only she had all the grace of a drunk seal.

    She didn¡¯t even bother standing up and just slid over to the next shadow on her belly. Focusing, Autumn mimicked the unwitting ritual she¡¯d performed, and as her blood dripped into the darkness below, she fell back into the black water with a soundless splash.

    ¡°Tis a strange ability thee harbor.¡±

    ¡®You¡¯re telling me.¡¯

    ¡°...aye?¡±

    ¡®¡­¡¯

    Autumn swam for hours, only rising to the surface to cross to another shadow. However, sometimes she had no choice but to brave the surface world as the ice sheet became either too cramped by giant clusters of crystals or held no shadows thanks to the way the lantern lights shone through the prisms.

    Thankfully, those few times she was creeping through the shiny maze, she went unnoticed. And if it wasn¡¯t for the baying of the crow-hounds growing ever closer, she¡¯d have thought she made a clean escape.

    The hunt was still on; an awfully familiar feeling for Autumn.

    She kept on running-slash-swimming even as her limbs became lead and her lungs burned like fire.

    Autumn knew she was a coward, but for a brief stupid moment, she¡¯d forgotten that. She¡¯d thought she was going to die. Defeating a hag on her lonesome was never in the cards, let alone running with how injured she¡¯d been.

    To say she wasn¡¯t afraid at that moment was a horrendous lie. She¡¯d been more afraid than in her entire life.

    But, as they say, a cornered rat bites.

    Ironically, death itself had burst her bubble of bravery by telling her she could live, that it wasn¡¯t her time. It gave her hope. Hope that turned her burning defiance to aught but ash.

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    And now she ran.

    But I¡¯ll be back and then you¡¯ll die Mildred.

    ¡°Aye! Killeth the hag and salt the crone¡¯s broken bones!¡±

    ¡®...can you stop reading my mind, please? I was trying to have a moment.¡±

    ¡°...fine.¡±

    Autumn felt the connection recede, and if she didn¡¯t know any better, she¡¯d have sworn the banshee was sulking.

    Another long hour passed.

    Gasping for air, Autumn desperately hauled herself out of the dark waters on shaking arms and into a dark, lightless tunnel. She¡¯d finally left the crystal cavern behind, and in doing so, put enough distance between herself and the chasing hounds. Now they have to find another way to reach her, and hopefully that¡¯d give her enough of a reprieve to rest and recover.

    Autumn lay on her back, sucking down the stale air into her burning lungs. She was exhausted, down to her very core, every part of her shaking with a deep ache. And her stomach did not lag far behind.

    An air-splitting growl erupted into the tunnel.

    It felt like forever since she¡¯d last eaten. Autumn¡¯s shuddering breaths had died down into a few ragged gasps by now, so she picked herself up, even if it came at the cost of copious amounts of whimpering.

    Her pack was battered and waterlogged. Digging through the saturated contents, she found the last of her rations.

    Autumn held up a single wax-coated parcel. In it lay a handful of dried¡ªnot so much now¡ªmushrooms that were meant to be her dinner. They vanished so fast down her gullet that she thought she might have dropped some, but a cursory feel of the ground revealed nothing remained.

    Her water vanished just as quickly. Holding the skin above her mouth shed no more than a few drops.

    A wary look was cast in the darkness at where the black water had sat.

    Only a fool or the desperate would consider drinking from such.

    Autumn gulped.

    ¡°...thou art a naive then?¡±

    ¡®...shut up.¡¯

    With a full water-skin, Autumn lay back down on the cold hard ground, far too exhausted to contemplate making herself any more comfortable.

    ¡®You¡¯re awfully chatty now. What gives?¡¯

    ¡°...art thou speaking to me? I bethought thou did wish me to ¡®shut up¡¯ as ''twere?¡±

    Autumn winced. ¡®Sorry. I¡¯m just having a bad day¡­a really bad day. More like a bad week¡­month?¡¯

    ¡°Dear God. How long have I been here for?¡±

    The banshee shrugged, or at least that¡¯s what it felt like to Autumn. ¡°Who can knoweth? Us Fae¡ªaye dead ones as well¡ªdon¡¯t respect things like ¡®time¡¯ or ¡®causality¡¯. And to answer thy earlier question; I¡¯m ¡®chatty¡¯ anon as thou art finally doing something about the hag.¡±

    Autumn barked a harsh laugh. ¡°Doing something?! I got everyone killed.¡±

    ¡°...doth thee wish for the kind forswear, or the cutting sooth?¡±

    ¡®...what?¡¯

    The banshee sighed. ¡°Do you want a kind lie or the cutting truth?¡±

    ¡°Hey, you can speak normally!¡± At the banshee¡¯s pointed silence, Autumn settled down. ¡°Umm¡­I¡¯d like a kind lie, but I need the truth. I think I can handle it.¡±

    Autumn braced herself for the dread whisperings of recrimination, to see her self-incrimination validated.

    ¡°You hath killed those folk.¡±

    Autumn sucked in a breath as though she¡¯d been punched. She thought she could handle it. She was wrong.

    ¡°However,¡± the banshee continued, ¡°it wast ultimately not thy fault. How wast thee to knoweth the results of those dread-beast¡¯s probing? Others couldst hath instruct¡¯d thee to close off thy mind from prying, myself I doth include. Would thee censure me for mine own inaction as well? Would thee censure the beast? Or the hag for leading thee thither? Would thee censure the dead for dying?¡±

    ¡°Blame helps nobody but thy own ego. What¡¯s done is done. And thee has¡¯t revenge to plot.¡±

    Autumn was silent for a while, tears glittering in her eyes. In her chest, her fragile heart beat anew. She¡¯d never admit how much those words helped. It was not an absolution of her guilt, but it made the burden lighter.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t my fault.¡± Autumn choked out between her tears and snot. ¡°Not my fault.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, it wast not.¡± The banshee¡¯s cold voice was a balm upon Autumn¡¯s mind. ¡°Now, what plot hast thee about the hag?¡±

    Autumn slumped.

    ¡°What can I do? She almost killed me, and she stole my Tome. I presume you heard what was inside it? If she gets it open, it''s all over.¡±

    ¡°Aye. Wonderful, is it not.¡± The banshee¡¯s cold voice was alight with anticipation and grim victory.

    ¡°Wonderful?! How is that wonderful?!¡± Autumn¡¯s voice came out scratchy and rough as she yelled, having not yet recovered from the spore clouds she¡¯d inhaled. She was worried that it was permanent, although she could admit it gave her a more grizzled, sexy tone. Still she¡¯d rather have her regular voice back.

    ¡°I¡¯d better not sayeth,¡± the banshee replied cautiously. ¡°Many eyes rest upon the outcome of this duel of threes¡­I hath said too much already.¡±

    ¡°Threes? Whose eyes? What are you talking about? Hey, are you listening?¡±

    Autumn huffed as she got no response.

    ¡°Great. Ignored by ghosts once again.¡±

    As she lay back and contemplated her future, as dark as it was, sleep caught her in its grasp. Dreams of kinder places fled after taking one look at Autumn, leaving her poor for their comfort.

    Untold hours passed in the dark depths.

    Autumn woke up and swiftly wished she hadn¡¯t. Every muscle in her body ached and when she tried to sit up, they seized, leaving her gasping in pain as she lay on the ground with rocks digging into her back.

    Not only that, but a murky haze of a fever had descended on her mind overnight, the consequences of swimming through ice-cold waters, then subsequently sleeping in her soaked robes.

    To top it all off, her stomach let out a disconnected growl.

    Autumn stared up at nothing for a long time.

    ¡°Fuuuuck.¡±

    Molten fire raced down Autumn¡¯s limbs as she struggled to rise.

    ¡°Fuck!!!¡±

    Once the dizziness abated, Autumn cast a look around her. She saw only darkness.

    ¡°Damn. I should have made a deal for some dark vision or something. Someone could have spared some, right?¡± Autumn muttered to herself.

    ¡°That would¡¯ve been wise.¡±

    Autumn jumped. ¡°Fucking hell! Don¡¯t scare me like that!¡±

    ¡°...I bethought thee wast talking to me. Peradventure, wast thee talking to yourself like a moron?¡± A mocking undead smile crept through the connection.

    Autumn blushed. ¡°...shut up.¡±

    ¡°Thee art taking a few too many liberties with me, art thou not?¡±

    An unbidden smile crept across Autumn¡¯s lips. ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°you want me alive till the hag is dead; that practically makes us friends! I can¡¯t even say that for half the people I know. A fifth, maybe? A sixth?¡±

    ¡°...you have a rather depressing life, you know. And I¡¯m dead. So that¡¯s saying a lot.¡±

    ¡°It is what it is. Now, help me find a wall; I want out of this place.¡±

    ¡°¡®Sigh¡¯. That was me sighing through the connection just so you know. And it¡¯s to you left. The other left. And watch out for that¡­.rock. Ouch, that looked like it hurt.¡±

    Autumn groaned as she lay on the rocky ground.

    ¡°This¡¯ll be a long journey, won¡¯t it? Hey! You¡¯re not speaking Faeish anymore!¡±

    ¡°...¡®sigh.¡¯ I should¡¯ve just stayed in the swamp. Grandmother never said anything about this.¡±

 Chapter Seventy-Three: The Graveyard of Heroes and Kings

    Six days later.

    Autumn stumbled through the dark tunnels in a feverish blur, trying to keep her footing as she used its rough walls as a guide. Not that she was paying much attention to where she stepped, with her mind aflame as it was. Just trying to marshal her thoughts was akin to swimming through a mire. And when she could muster a coherent thought, the stabbing pain of hunger drew it awry. Even the brief solace she¡¯d gained by chewing on scraps of leather had waned.

    On that note, Autumn needed new straps for her belt.

    Thankfully, the black waters quenched her thirst plenty. It was rather oily, however, and still as chilly as when she first scooped it up. What long-term consequences its consumption posed, Autumn pushed into the back of her mind for the future-her to take care of.

    And the future-her was sure in for a treat.

    Dirty robes hung loose across Autumn¡¯s already slim frame, and more than once already she¡¯d had to tighten her belt around a thinning waist. Crossing through the black water wasn¡¯t helping matters either, as every time she did so, it drew more from her body and hastened her starvation. A troubling prospect when it was often the only way forward when the tunnels she traveled came to a dead end.

    ¡°Halt.¡±

    An icy voice cut through the murky haze of Autumn¡¯s fever. It took a long moment for the witch¡¯s beleaguered mind to process the word, but somehow, she managed it in the end and stopped in place.

    The first few days of the long walk had seen rise to amicable conversations between the pair of witch and banshee. However, as hunger and exhaustion gnawed heavier and heavier upon Autumn, their talks lessened and became more clipped in tone till they amounted to nothing more than a few words of direction here and there.

    Such as now.

    ¡°...oh, how unfortunate.¡±

    Autumn had not stopped in time. Her armored boot collided heavily with a decently sized stone, sending it careening forward with a clatter. Released from its immobility, the stone hopped across the ground, gaining momentum with each bounce. Down it tumbled, down as it heralded an unseen slope just beyond the witch''s feet. Another joined it, and another, and another, until the entire slope rumbled with their avalanche.

    And once more, the ground fell away from beneath Autumn¡¯s feet.

    ¡°Fuckin¡ª Not againnnnnnnnn!!!!!¡± Autumn swore, her voice echoing out into the tunnel.

    Sharp gravel dug into her back as she slid down the scree slope feet first. Autumn¡¯s heart beat like a wild stallion in her chest and her eyes flew wide open, but there was nothing for her to see as she scrambled at the rocks and dirt, desperate to halt her almost uncontrolled downward slide. At least, there was nothing at first. A pale, haunting light slowly bloomed up ahead as the tunnel ended, bathing the young witch in the first actual light she¡¯d seen in days; she didn¡¯t count the reflection of shadows that the black water¡¯s icy mirror of the world provided. It was a welcome sight, even if she was careening down a rocky slope into it.

    Just as she was beginning to enjoy it, the tunnel suddenly came to an abrupt end, sending Autumn flying out and into a tumbling freefall.

    Immediately, she was hit by a wall of the foulest stench that was beyond anything she¡¯d ever smelt before. It crashed upon her senses like a tidal wave, and if there had been anything left in her stomach, it wouldn¡¯t be anymore. Autumn gagged, which was mighty unfortunate for her as, with a grand splash, she plunged down into a pool of befouled water. While the water did indeed break her fall, it also rushed into her open mouth, painting her taste buds with a coating of death and decay.

    Now she did puke.

    Autumn desperately swam through a murky foulness to the surface. Upon breaching it, she clambered atop the nearest thing afloat that she could grasp, which, to her consternation, squelched rather unpleasantly between her fingers as she clung onto it. She could not see what it was or where she was for a sticky, stinging grime coated her vision, left behind by the foul waters she¡¯d unwillingly entered. Autumn wiped at her eyes, trying not to gather anymore gunk into them until her vision cleared just enough for her to glance down at what buoyed her.

    A grinning skull, still slimy with decaying flesh, stared up at her.

    ¡°AHHH!!!¡± Autumn screamed as she flung herself away.

    Twisting hither and thither, Autumn frantically cast about for something else less gruesome for her to cling to as she treaded the tainted water. But it was not to be, for she swam in an ocean of corpses. Millions upon millions of rotten bodies, beast and man alike, rose out of the foul waters to form great putrefied rolling hills and vast fetid plains. Like great rusted forests, long tarnished spears rose out of this mass of flesh, still clasped by fallen hands. And upon the standards towering high, there hung the decaying banners of kingdoms and empires, long since dead. At their feet lay broken arms and armor like a hundred thousand tombs, maybe more. And as Autumn gazed up to eye the banners, she saw behind them, dominating it all, were the gargantuan bones of a species that too was long dead.

    Dragons.

    They were larger than anything had a right to be, larger than many small cities. One truly majestic set was even larger than the city of Duskfields, stone pillar and all.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Such was their sheer scale that it defied belief. Flesh that still clung to their bones looked fresh and bright, more akin to streamers hung between them by some macabre civilization than the decaying remains of something over a thousand years dead.

    Here and there, scavengers small and large, could be seen picking at the feast.

    Autumn shook herself out of her morbid fascination and clambered¡ªmuch to her destestment¡ªatop one of the decaying mounds that surrounded her to free herself from corpse-water.

    ¡°...wast we better off in the dark? At which hour mine own eyes wast not subject''d to such macabre sights?¡± The banshee whispered in Autumn¡¯s mind. Even in death, she found herself unnerved by the scale of the carnage before her. Generations of dead lay within this sprawling cavern that was almost a grim realm unto itself.

    Feeling unsettled by the sight, Autumn cast her gaze upward in search of just what was casting the haunting glow to reveal it. Her eyes were drawn to the pale light¡¯s source. Thousands of black-iron chains emerged from a miasmic haze that enshrouded the high ceiling. Each one crept down like a heavy thread before ending in a cruel cage of bone wrapped in iron. Within the grim holdings shone imprisoned lights.

    ¡°Will-of-the-wisps.¡± The banshee informed her. ¡°Haunt¡¯d lights, someone did trap by foul means. And in yond castle ov''r yonder I believeth they didst dwell, ''r mayhap they dwelleth still.¡±

    ¡°Castle?¡± Autumn asked, her voice coming out faint. The longer she spent in this damp hold, the more the miasma was affecting her. Methane and ammonia, her faltering educated mind supplied, given off by the masses of decomposing dead.

    ¡°Cast thy gaze to thy right.¡±

    Autumn cast her gaze to the right. There was nothing there but more death.

    ¡°¡­thy other right; I forget mortals only has''t the one.¡±

    Bemused and annoyed, Autumn looked left.

    Perched atop a mountain of decomposing bodies, a dread castle loomed like a carrion crow. It was a brutal tower of bone and black iron, fused and forged by dark powers. A macabre display encircled the tower¡¯s bone-white walls. Ancient heroes, once bold and bright, dangled from sharp spikes and jutting balconies, their own sinewy flesh forming the hangman¡¯s nooses. Like the webs of a spider or the guidelines of a tent, thick braided cords made of tendons ran far from the tower to pierce down into the corpse¡¯s field below; from it dangling more dead heroes. From arrow slits and murder-holes, the teal light of undeath looked down haughtily upon the dead, who appeared to be crashing against its base like waves of a putrid ocean.

    Autumn would bet anything that it was a necromancer¡¯s lair.

    ¡°Oh, that castle.¡± Autumn muttered.

    ¡°Doth thee bethink anyone''s home?¡± The banshee asked.

    ¡°Honestly. I don¡¯t know which would be worse. At the very least, if someone¡¯s home they¡¯d¡ª¡±

    A sudden piercing pain in her stomach interrupted Autumn¡¯s words. Clutching at her anguished stomach, she sank to her knees as she desperately hoped for it to pass. Bile and spit dribbled from her lips as she cried out in agony. When the pain had finally passed, it left her gasping and light-headed, staring down into the piles of tainted and congealed meat below her.

    Grimly, Autumn picked at the slime.

    ¡°Thee aren''t going to consume yond gristle, art thee?¡± The banshee asked hesitantly as she watched from within the soul-cage.

    Autumn grimaced.

    To even consider consuming such a vile substance was an act of utter madness, but Autumn was beyond hungry at this point; she was ravenous. Her stomach growled in anticipation, demanding to be sated. It ashamed her just how much the sight of foul meat made her salivate. Truly, hunger was the king of spices. It took her a while to rummage elbow-deep through the gore and grime, but eventually, Autumn salvaged a bone still thick with reasonably fresh-looking meat. While she wondered how that was possible, she wasn¡¯t willing to look a gift horse in the mouth right now. All she hoped for was that it was more beast than man. But even that was a thin line with how hungry she was.

    Autumn gulped.

    ¡°Yond castle might has''t actual food in it. Thee knoweth thou couldst just wait?¡± Even dead and a Fae, the banshee still found herself revolted by the task Autumn had set for herself.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡± Autumn barked out. ¡°I need¡­I need to eat as soon as I can, as the longer I go without food, the longer it¡¯ll take me to recover. Besides, we don¡¯t even know if I lost the hag¡­s-she could be on my heels at this very moment. I need to eat. It¡¯s¡­it¡¯s just meat, right? It¡¯s just meat.¡±

    Both Autumn and the banshee looked at the befouled meat dubiously.

    ¡°Right. It¡¯s just meat.¡±

    Neither of them believed that. Autumn breathed out heavily as she steeled herself, trying to muster up enough courage to overpower her disgust. And with her stomach frantically urging her on, Autumn took a plunge over the edge of rationality and bit into the foul meat, tearing a stringy strip from the bone. Immediately, a wave of revulsion  beset her as the most loathsome of flavors crashed heavily against her taste buds, souring her sensibilities. Hot tears sprang into her eyes as she tried to chew the tough meat and hold back her gagging. It took great effort of will to force herself to swallow the strip of flesh and fight against her body¡¯s natural reaction to vomit. But in the end she did and the meat settled heavily in her stomach.

    Autumn stared a thousand-yard-stare across the way as she shook.

    The small bit she¡¯d taken proved not enough for her awakened stomach, and it growled for more. Under the horrified and somewhat impressed eyes of the banshee, Autumn stripped the rest of the flesh off the bone before splitting it in half to suck out the marrow.

    With her grim meal concluded, and her stomach finally sated, at least for the moment, Autumn¡¯s mind cleared and her face blanked in horror over what she¡¯d just done. Bile swelled in her throat, but the thought of eating all that¡­that foul meat for nothing had her forcing it back down with a rare and powerful show of will. Autumn felt she was more beast than girl right now, just another foul scavenger visiting this dread demesne, but she supposed that was better than starving to death.

    Even if only a little.

    After a few silent, contemplative moments the banshee broke the silence of Autumn''s mind. ¡°Twas quite the sight. Thee did impress, truly.¡±

    ¡°...Please, don¡¯t talk. I just want to forget about it.¡± Autumn pleaded, green in the face.

    <hr>

    Far in the distance, atop the battlements of the fortress of bone and black-iron, a pair of orange eyes watched Autumn through a telescopic lens. They were wide and filled with surprise, amusement, disgust, and a tinge of sympathy.

    ¡°My my my, just what have you gotten up to, Autumn? You just can¡¯t leave your mages alone anymore these days.¡±

 Chapter Seventy-Four: The Tower of Bone and Black-Iron

    It was a queer feeling that fell over Autumn as she finally arrived at the foot of the tower of undeath. One of anticipation and dread. Her journey here had not been without danger. Along with dealing with hazardous air and treacherous footing, she also had to be cautious of the prowling scavenger beasts as she crossed the mountains and plains of the dead. Packs of savage, skinless dogs inhabited the cavern, scavenging through the putrid mounds for the best pieces of meat, all the while avoiding the predatory eyes of the flocks of massive, horse-sized murder-crows that ruled the skies.

    Thankfully, she successfully passed by them unnoticed.

    Autumn now gazed up dumbly at the black and white pillar to necromantic sin, trying to comprehend the make and scale of its construction. Clearly, some foul-natured mage had constructed it out of untold thousands of bones from various sources, judging by the striations cast within and details adorning it. Yet for all its disparate nature and mixed materials, the surface was as smooth as glass; a testament to the ancient mage¡¯s skill.

    To get into the keep¡ªas was Autumn¡¯s will¡ªwas no simple task, for the entryway into the structure was not at ¡®ground¡¯ level. Several feet above her stood a set of massive black-iron doors, set flush to the bone-white walls, and the only way to them was up a rather interesting-looking stairwell. The skeletal remains of a legendary-sized serpent weaved its way to the black doors up above with a jagged spine transformed into a path of cut steps.

    Under the might of a necromancer, this serpentine skeleton would serve as one helluva drawbridge. Or at least, Autumn thought so.

    Taking shallow breaths, Autumn ascended the winding stairs. She expected the bone steps to be slippery and challenging to climb, but her frayed boots found plenty of traction on the rough-textured surface. A lot of pride had gone into the creation of this strange stairwell.

    Just as Autumn was cresting the last few steps, the black-iron doors creaked ominously open. She froze in fright and her heart skipped a beat as a loud voice boomed out.

    ¡°Who dares tread on my domain!!!¡±

    Autumn¡¯s mind stuttered to a halt as she took in the familiar figure before her.

    Standing tall in the ethereal glow of the doorway was a roguish figure bearing cherry-red skin and a flirtatious smile. Fresh scars adorned a grinning face while messy red hair hung longer than Autumn remembered down to a set of slim shoulders hidden beneath a leather coat that¡¯d seen better days. A cocked hip drew Autumn¡¯s eyes to a familiar sheathed kraken-hilted cutlass resting against tattered striped pants.

    ¡°Liddie?¡± Autumn asked in disbelief, her voice barely escaping her.

    While Liddie had never been a stocky individual, she¡¯d never looked as thin as she was now. Her classic pirate¡¯s attire hung loose on her frame, making her look fragile. Granted, Autumn could say the same about herself.

    A pair of glowing orange eyes curled up. ¡°Who else could look this fine?¡±

    Cautiously, like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt, Autumn approached the rogue.

    ¡°You¨Cyou''re real, right? I-if you''re a h-hag, y-you have to tell me.¡± Autumn said as she stopped just out of arm¡¯s reach. ¡°T-those are the rules.¡±

    Liddie¡¯s easy and teasing smile wavered. Slowly, she raised her hand off of her cutlass where it¡¯d been idly resting, showing her open hands to the wary witch watching her with wild and wide, paranoid eyes.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Liddie spoke softly, afraid of spooking her. ¡°I¡¯m me. No duplicates, substitutes, or counterfeits allowed. I could show you some of my scars if you want, the one you saw on my¡ªoof~¡±

    The pirate¡¯s words cut off as a witch crashed into her stomach, staggering her back; the familiarity of her body language having given her away. Desperate, longing arms wrapped themselves tightly around a thin waist as Autumn buried her tears into an already grim-stained blouse. Neither of them paid much mind to the gore that Autumn was spreading as she did so.

    Taken aback, Liddie hesitated a second as the witch¡¯s silent, heaving sobs rocked her body. A soft sigh eventually escaped her lips and she gently placed her hand atop Autumn''s head, pressing down on the witch¡¯s hat to do so.

    ¡°You¡¯ve had it rough, haven¡¯t you?¡± Liddie said as she affectionately patted Autumn¡¯s head. ¡°Alright, come on, let¡¯s get inside and out of the miasma. Ugh~ You stink something fierce. Please tell me you still have that cleaning spell of yours?¡±

    Carefully, Liddie guided the tear-stricken witch inside. It took a bit given that Autumn refused to let go.

    The interior of the tower was no less macabre than its exterior. An expansive gothic cathedral-like foyer greeted Autumn¡¯s eyes as she entered. Behind her, the black-iron doors closed with a loud bang, causing her to jolt in Liddie¡¯s arms. In an instant, the miasmic smells of the outside cut off, besides those still clinging to Autumn¡¯s robes, that was. Spread out evenly down the massive hall were towering columns of bone decorated with grinning humanoid skulls, some bearing strange features; sharper teeth, elongated skulls, horns, more eyes, fewer eyes, no eyes. The walls, too, bore their ilk and at regular intervals along them, some of the wicked skulls emitted pale lights from their hollow eyes to cast the hall in a grim illumination.

    Liddie guided Autumn past several of the pillars towards a makeshift encampment of battered tents and scavenged furniture that sat in the center of the hall. No signs of life stirred as they approached.

    Off to the side, Autumn spied a neat row of cloth covered bodies.

    ¡°Is that¡ªare those?¡± Autumn asked fearfully between sobbing hiccups.

    Liddie followed Autumn¡¯s gaze, alighting upon the bodies. A look of understanding flashed quickly across her face.

    ¡°Oh, no.¡± Liddie reassured her, ¡°Those are some of the Duskguard that traveled with us, plus Sverr¡ªone of the Lepus adventurers. Edwyn and Nelva are alive, upstairs somewhere. They¡¯re trying to work through all the traps and undead. I¡¯ll tell you more later, but first let¡¯s get you cleaned up. By the way, can you cast that cleaning spell of yours?¡±

    Autumn breathed a sigh of relief before answering. ¡°No, sorry, I lost my wand and I can¡¯t cast that spell without it, at least not yet, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Pity, I was kinda looking forward to not smelling like a charnel house.¡± Liddie pouted. ¡°No matter, we¡¯ve got a rudimentary shower set up. Don¡¯t get your hopes up though, it¡¯s just a bucket of cold water and a ragged cloth, but hey, there might be some soap left if you¡¯re lucky.¡±

    Autumn perked up.

    ¡°Do you have any spare clothes I could borrow? Mine are all wet.¡±

    Liddie tapped her lips as she thought. ¡°Well, I¡¯m already down to my spare set and, to be honest, it wouldn¡¯t have fit you, anyway.¡± She glared meaningfully at Autumn¡¯s larger chest. Autumn just huffed a small tired laugh. ¡°However, if you don¡¯t mind a bit of dustiness, I¡¯ve got something that just might work.¡±

    After she finally managed to detach Autumn with the promise of bathing and dry clothes, Liddie zipped over one of the large crates that were haphazardly sitting beside the tents. Autumn politely averted her gaze when Liddie bent over the lip of the crate to rummage around inside.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡­ok, maybe she looked a little longer than strictly necessary, but who could blame her? Liddie possessed some rather charming pirate loot.

    With a bit of time on her hands, Autumn cast her gaze around the rest of the camp. In the center stood a strange contraption made of black-iron that blazed with odd runes. A comfortable heat rolled off of it, drawing Autumn further in. Standing beside the warmth, she cast her gaze now to the old and battered crates stacked up beside the tents, much like the one Liddie was currently ransacking. Presumably, all of them were brimming with pilfered goods, judging by the opened ones she could glimpse inside. What she saw in them was mostly old arms and armor made of black-iron. However, in some, she spied other things, such as candelabras, sets of cutlery, combs, and other miscellaneous goods, all made of that same dark metal.

    Curious, Autumn plucked out a comb to examine. It was of rather fine make; the teeth were straight and unbroken, and the skulls embossed into it didn¡¯t put her off too much either.

    ¡°Hey, Liddie?¡± Autumn called out over her shoulder as she played with the comb.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Liddie¡¯s voice came back muffled by the crate she was still rummaging through.

    ¡°Can I have one of these combs? I think I lost mine, or I just left it back in Duskfields.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, sure.¡± Liddie spoke distractedly, as she hauled something heavy out of her way while still in the crate, ¡°most of this stuff will just end up melted down, anyway. Necromancer stuff is like super-duper illegal. Most fences won¡¯t even buy black-iron on the black market either, the pansies.¡±

    ¡°What exactly is black-iron? Some kind of alloy?¡± Autumn asked as she flicked her gaze back to Liddie.

    Thankfully¡ªor perhaps not, depending how you looked at it¡ªthe pirate had retracted herself from the crate. She now stood facing Autumn with an ancient-looking and frayed gambeson held in her hands. She shrugged at Autumn¡¯s words.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask me. All I know is that it doesn¡¯t sell all that well, even though it¡¯s iron, and you can only find it around necromancers. You can make a reasonable guess as to the why of it yourself. Or you could just ask Edwyn when they get back. Now stop staring at my arse and go and get cleaned.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t¡ªyou!¡ªurg.¡± Autumn hurriedly tried to deny the accusation until she noticed the grin creeping onto the pirate¡¯s face.

    A blush crept up Autumn¡¯s neck to bloom upon her cheeks as she huffed and sped off towards the rudimentary shower, not forgetting to take the gambeson as she went.

    Liddie chuckled, her eyes softening as she watched the witch depart.

    ¡°Hey, just put all your wet stuff off to the side. Once it¡¯s clean, we can dry it off with Edwyn¡¯s rune-heater-thingy.¡± Liddie said, to which she got an embarrassed nod in reply.

    The ¡®shower¡¯ that Autumn eventually found hidden behind a pillar atop a series of suspiciously red-tinged grates was little more than a bucket of cold water tinged reddish-brown, a few clumps of soft soap, and an old rag, just as Liddie had said. Thankfully, someone had erected a privy curtain around it out of what looked like old, moth-eaten curtains.

    With the option to regain even a semblance of cleanliness placed before her, Autumn found the current state of her befouled garments simply unacceptable. She peeled each layer of her outfit off in haste, casting it to the white floor outside her little oasis of purity where it landed with a sickening squelch till all she was left wearing was her soul-cage amulet.

    The cold metal rolled between Autumn¡¯s fingers as she contemplated removing it. In some mysterious, arcane way, the banshee could see out of her cage, and while the idea of being watched while she bathed was unsettling, Autumn couldn¡¯t bring herself to remove it as its coldness soothed her frayed nerves. Plus, the banshee had already seen Autumn do more objectionable things by now.

    Letting it fall back down to her chest, Autumn snatched up what was left of the soap and the old rag.

    Autumn took to her body with a vengeance to cleanse herself of the repulsive substances still clinging to her until her skin turned a bright, flushed red. A wetted comb methodically ran through her long black locks, pulling free gunk and matted knots.

    When she¡¯d finished her assault upon grime and the bucket of water had taken on a horrid hue, Autumn looked over her body and couldn¡¯t help but grimace at the state her body was in.

    Before their journey in the dark, Autumn¡¯s build was of athletic proportions that was steadily growing into a more muscular fighter¡¯s build. Now, she was far more lean. Her ribs stood out starkly as the mottled greens and blues of bruised skin pulled tight against them. Her pride-worthy muscles, won by ruthless practice, had shrunk. And worst of all, her breasts had been downsized, although they were still larger than Liddie¡¯s.

    Not that crossing that bar was all that difficult.

    Scattered across her body were fresh scars, ranging from cuts and gashes on her fingers and arms to the disgusting, maggot-like lines on her abdomen. Just looking at them made Autumn feel sick to her stomach.

    Shaking off her inspection, Autumn took a look at the gambeson Liddie had found for her. It was an old and battered thing, but still looked serviceable. Donning it, Autumn clasped the front together with a trio of leather straps and iron buckles.

    Thankfully, the protective garment came down to her mid thigh, as she wasn¡¯t wearing anything beneath. Her spare pair of underwear was still soaked, and she refused to wear the ones she¡¯d been wearing for days on end. She¡¯d just have to be mindful not to sit cross-legged before her spares were dry.

    Autumn emerged from around the corner and fell into the sight of the flirtatious pirate.

    Liddie wolf-whistled. ¡°Looking good!¡±

    A wave of social embarrassment rolled over Autumn as she recalled her actions not a moment prior, acting like some lost puppy finding a way home or some wayward child finding home. Her ears grew hot as unshed tears pricked her eyes. Swallowing down her anxiety, Autumn gestured down at herself.

    ¡°I look stupid.¡±

    ¡°You look ravishing, my dear.¡± Liddie grinned. ¡°Or is it that you looked ravished?¡±

    Autumn snorted. ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing. And thanks.¡±

    Liddie gasped, mock-offended.

    ¡°Are you accusing me of tact?! I¡¯ll not stand for this insult! It¡¯ll be swords at dawn, Autumn! Or bedsheets at dusk if you prefer, grrr!¡± She wiggled her eyebrows at Autumn, who was quietly chuckling at her.

    Autumn needed the laughter, like a desert nomad needed water, or a shipwrecked sailor needed land.

    ¡°Tempting, but the locale isn¡¯t ideal.¡±

    Liddie paused.

    ¡°Wait for the duel or the sex? Autumn? Hey, don¡¯t ignore me! Which one?!¡± She playfully winned as Autumn kept silent, a slight teasing smirk brushing the witch¡¯s lips.

    To be honest, she wasn¡¯t so sure herself.

    Still smiling, the pair set out to carefully collect up Autumn''s discarded clothing to be washed. Autumn opening up her shadow to wash off the worst of the grime into the icy black waters shocked Liddie initially, although she was quick to shake off her surprise in favor of asking whether it was drinkable. And at Autumn¡¯s hazy affirmation, it was the young witch¡¯s turn to be shocked as Liddie scooped up a handful to drink.

    ¡°What?! Why did you do that?! Didn¡¯t I just say I was unsure?!¡± Autumn yelled.

    Liddie grinned, although it was tempered by a shudder as the oily water coated her throat. ¡°You forget I was a sailor; I¡¯ve drunk worse. Our closest, uncontaminated water source is a river outside the cavern at least half a day away, so a full day there and back. If we can get water here, that saves us a lot of energy.¡±

    Still, Autumn huffed.

    ¡°It might not be uncontaminated though. I¡¯ve only just learnt how to use this power and I know nothing about that place.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re still fine, right?¡± Liddie prodded, ¡°so, I¡¯ll take my chances. Dying of thirst is no joke, you know? I¡¯ve been there, done that. Now, let¡¯s fill up the water stores before we wash all that muck into your shadow, just in case.¡± She nodded to herself as she made her way over to a series of empty barrels and water-skins. ¡°After that we can get some food cooking as the others will be down soon.¡±

    Liddie snapped her fingers as she remembered something.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s right, I almost forgot. I found your kitty cat lost in one of the tunnels¡­you might want to check up on her; she¡¯s in a bad way.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Kitty cat? You don¡¯t mean Eme, do you?¡±

    Liddie nodded towards one of the closed up tents. ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s her. She¡¯s¡­well¡­you¡¯d best see for yourself. She won¡¯t talk to the rest of us. You might have a better chance, though, maybe?¡±

    Autumn glanced over to the tent Liddie had indicated. She didn¡¯t have much of a connection with the strange catgirl aside from the one drunken night they¡¯d spent together. The hazy memories seemed so long ago, but they still brought a blush to her cheeks.

    After helping to fill up the water stores with Liddie, Autumn left the pirate behind to make her way over to Eme¡¯s tent. She now stood before the closed entry, swallowing nervously. Inside, she could hear muffled sniffles.

    Reaching out, Autumn gently knocked on the lid of a crate beside her.

    ¡°Hello? Eme? It¡¯s me, Autumn. F-from the inn¡ªI mean, from the Dusk Wolves part. Can I come in?¡±

    Silence lingered a beat before a raspy voice called out, wet with sorrow.

    ¡°Autumn? You¡¯re here? ¡®Sniffle¡¯ Umm, yeah, you can come in.¡±

    Steeling herself, Autumn entered the tent.

 Chapter Seventy-Five: A Kitty Cat in Need is a Friend Indeed

    The pale lights of the hall cast an eerie, somber glow into the tent as Autumn entered. It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the gloom inside, as the interior was lit by only a single anemic lantern glowing in the corner. Her nose wrinkled as she smelt blood and medicine hanging heavy in the air. Autumn cast her gaze about, taking in the space. The tent was a modest affair, designed for either a single occupant to relax in reasonable comfort alongside their gear, or a pair to do the same in less reasonable and more intimate comfort.

    However, the tent¡¯s comfort mattered less to her than its current and sole occupant.

    Upon the lone bedroll sat a somber Eme, hugging her tail tight to her chest. She drew a pair of battered knees up as Autumn entered, cradling them with a single arm. Autumn¡¯s gaze locked onto what remained of the other that Eme tried to shy away. The catgirl¡¯s right arm ended mid-bicep, wrapped in a swathe of fresh gauze that smelled of infection covered by a fragrant poultice.

    Sable-colored ears flattened in response to Autumn¡¯s glance.

    Autumn quickly dragged her eyes back up to meet Eme¡¯s own that stared back, wide and red-rimmed. A river of tears had carved well-traveled paths down a set of pale, sunken cheeks. Like both Autumn and Liddie, the young Felis was skinnier than she¡¯d been at the offset of this journey; grief, horror, and starvation having hollowed her out.

    The pair stared at one another silently, seeing a mirror reflected in the other¡¯s eyes. Autumn was the first to break their gaze as a strange, suffocating warmth billowed in her chest.

    Clearing her throat, she gestured to the space opposite Eme.

    ¡°May I sit?¡± She asked.

    The sudden words startled Eme from her trance, hurriedly she offered Autumn a seat.

    ¡°Sit, please. I¡¯m s-sorry that there isn¡¯t much, most of my stuff got washed away.¡±

    Autumn waved off Eme¡¯s concerns; by now she¡¯d slept on worse than a tent¡¯s floor.

    Choosing an unoccupied spot, she sat down as gracefully as she could, taking care not to expose herself to the poor catgirl. However, judging by the sudden flush of pink that graced Eme¡¯s pale cheeks, Autumn might not have been as successful as she¡¯d have liked.

    Her own cheeks bloomed at the realization.

    A quiet awkwardness fell over the pair like a shroud, neither knowing what to say nor what to ask. Flickering eyes would meet, only to dart away in a panic, and unspoken words died on their bitten lips.

    Swallowing heavily, Autumn mustered herself against her anxiety and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

    ¡°Liddie called you a kitty cat.¡±

    Autumn winced as she mercilessly threw her teammate under the bus.

    Wild eyes snapped to her as sable ears flattened further and fur puffed up in righteous anger.

    Hurriedly, Autumn scrambled to salvage the disaster of an opening.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t what I meant to say¡ªnot that she didn¡¯t call you that, but¡ªI mean, she said you weren¡¯t talking to the others. Are you¡­okay? Well, not okay okay, but are you eating, at least?¡± Autumn winced. ¡°Is there food in this tower? Or¡­are you eating the¡­?¡±

    Eme¡¯s angry gaze lingered on Autumn a moment before she softened, her puffed-up fur settling.

    Eventually, she softly spoke.

    ¡°There wasn¡¯t any food left in the tower when I got here, not this floor anyway. The other floors are trapped and full of undead still, or so I¡¯ve been told. We¡­we ate what we could.¡± Eme shuddered as she stared hollowly at the floor. Autumn couldn¡¯t help but shudder, too. ¡°Luckily, Liddie,¡± she glared, ¡°gathered up a bunch of meat from a dragon carcass¡ªancestors, isn¡¯t that strange to say¡ªas we found out it doesn¡¯t rot.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°How¡¯d she find that out?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t awake when it happened,¡± Eme shrugged, ¡°but she said she just wanted to eat a dragon before she died and went out before anyone could stop her.¡±

    ¡°Ha, sounds like her.¡±

    ¡°Mmm.¡± Eme agreed. ¡°Even back on Nekomini I¡¯d heard of her tales. Those of the Kraken Eater and the sinking of a thousand human warships. Ah, no offense.¡±

    Autumn shook her head, her locks of freshly cleaned hair flying freely without her hat to pin them down. It felt weird to her to be without it after not removing it for so long, but it deserved to be laundered and dried. She was looking forward to seeing if Liddie tried to pick it up; the look on her face would be well worth its temporary loss.

    ¡°Is Nekomini your home?¡± Autumn asked.

    A soft, longing look graced Eme¡¯s face and her tight grip upon her knees was loosening.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Eme breathed out the word, ¡°it¡¯s an island in the great thirst, one of the largest in fact. Mainly just sandy beaches and rolling grasslands. There are a few small forests and mountains, but those are sacred, so we import most of our lumber and stone. It¡¯s¡­¡± Eme paused, thinking something over before continuing, ¡°¡­nice, if a little isolated.¡±

    Autumn smiled. ¡°It does sound nice.¡±

    Eme nodded, her eyes then refocused on Autumn. ¡°Umm, what about you? What is your home like?¡±

    It was Autumn¡¯s turn to pause. Her brows furrowed as she ruminated on the question and whether her answer would be a lie. Finally, after a long silence, she spoke.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    ¡°It¡¯s loud; too many people and too few as well.¡±

    Eme tilted her head quizzically, but took the answer and the ending of that line of questioning with grace. Another silence descended upon the pair, this one charged with the expectation of a question dancing on the tip of a tongue. Eme clutched at her arm instinctively and Autumn¡¯s eyes followed.

    ¡°What¡­what happened?¡­to your arm, that is?¡±

    Eme hunched in on herself at the question, her fingers turning white as they clutched at the stump of her arm. She ignored the pain. Fresh tears glittered in a pair of eyes that would not meet Autumn¡¯s. The crystalline droplets fell as she remembered the screams that haunted her still.

    ¡°There was¡­¡± Eme rasped like the condemned walking towards a guillotine, ¡°¡­there was a beast, a monster in the dark. He looked like a man only with the head of a cat the likes of which I¡¯ve never seen before.¡± Autumn flinched, yet Eme didn¡¯t notice, consumed as she was by recollection. ¡°It¡ªhe¡­killed¡­¡± Eme hiccuped. ¡°Delight was with me when we¡ªwhen it¡­I ran and ran and ran.¡±

    Eme¡¯s tears were flowing freely by now. She brushed at them with her arm as she hiccuped.

    ¡°I still hear her screams.¡± Eme whispered her confession.

    Autumn was silent as she took in the crying girl before her. Guilt ran rampant in her chest. It wasn¡¯t the dancer¡¯s death that troubled her so. Rather, it was the burden of the lives that she¡¯d inadvertently ended with her inadequacy and the responsibility she held of delivering the devastating news to the already grieving girl. But there was fear hiding there too, an intoxicating amount. Of course, she thought, of course there¡¯d be more.

    More of the beasts that hungered in the dark.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Autumn started, ¡°I ran into one too with¡­with¡­¡±

    The words clawed into Autumn¡¯s throat, refusing to be spoken. No matter how much Autumn worked her cracked lips, no words tumbled free. Eme¡¯s teary eyes rose to meet Autumn¡¯s frantic gaze.

    She knew. Somehow she knew.

    The young witch was unsure just what the other girl caught in her eyes, her expression that made it so, but she did and could not undo what she¡¯d seen. Eme didn¡¯t want to listen, didn¡¯t want to hear, as the dreadful truth murdered her hope. And as she locked her eyes onto Autumn¡¯s scared and faltering lips, awaiting their judgment, she wondered who it was that the words would kill. She could stop her. Autumn, that was. If she covered those lips, she could live a few more days in blissful ignorance, but she could not, for she felt frozen in place.

    She wanted to know the truth.

    Eventually, the words crawled out of Autumn.

    ¡°Leshana and Vuriac¡­they¡ª¡±

    ¡°Was it quick?¡± Eme interrupted, eyes burning.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t meet them, ¡°...no.¡±

    Eme¡¯s eyes watered again as she collapsed back into herself. Slowly, she drew her knees back up from where she¡¯d steadily been relaxing and buried her sorrowful eyes back into them. Right now, she didn¡¯t want Autumn to see her crying.

    A soft whisper drifted into her ears, spoken as if saying it too loud would be a crime.

    ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    Eme¡¯s eyes snapped up to Autumn angrily, but the witch wasn¡¯t even looking at her, just staring past her.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡± She whispered again.

    ¡°Shut up.¡± Eme hissed, shaking. She didn¡¯t want to hear it.

    Undaunted or perhaps just not listening, Autumn repeated herself like a matra.

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault.¡±

    Growling, Eme launched herself across the space. A pair of soft lips crashing against her own silenced Autumn. The kiss was furious, aggressive, wanting, desperate and panicked, all rolled in one long embrace. It wasn¡¯t a kind kiss or a loving one, just a wreck of emotions that wanted no more words shed between them.

    Autumn returned it.

    When the pair finally parted, they did so panting. Autumn rested her feverish forehead against Eme¡¯s cooler one, her battered lips parting to speak, but Eme interrupted her with a growl before she could offer anymore meaningless words.

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡­thank you, but just¡­don¡¯t.¡± The catgirl lightly headbutted Autumn to emphasize her point.

    Autumn nodded, swallowing her spit; it tasted like her.

    She didn¡¯t quite know how she felt about the Felis sitting in her lap. Attraction certainly, if the rapid beat of her heart could be trusted. There was also something more primal roaring inside of her as claws pricked her skin through the gambeson and sharp teeth bit into her lips. But whether that all combined into something more than a teenage lust, she didn¡¯t know.

    Do I even count as a teenager in this world? Wasn¡¯t I like 20ish by this world''s rotations?

    The more she experienced, the less she felt she knew. Thoughts for another place, another time.

    Autumn cleared her throat, ignoring the way Eme gazed with a threatening hunger at her lips.

    ¡°Umm, if you want, I can fix you?¡±

    Eme¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Fix me?¡±

    ¡°I meant your arm!¡± Autumn said in a panic, gesturing towards the missing section. Eme flinched, but didn¡¯t draw back, allowing Autumn to touch her. A pale hand gently rested on Eme¡¯s upper bicep just above the wound. It was still surprisingly firm.

    ¡°How? It¡¯s gone, and I doubt you have any regeneration potions.¡± Eme winced at how harsh that¡¯d come out. She softened her tone. ¡°No offense meant.¡±

    Autumn shook her head as she slowly traced the musculature of the catgirls arm with her fingers, causing a shiver to roll up Eme¡¯s spine. Not that she was complaining or wanted her to stop.

    ¡°Those dragon bones outside ought to be sturdy, right?¡± Autumn held up her prosthetic fingers with a grin. Flakes had chipped off in the descent down the crystals and general wear and tear without her wand to repair them. ¡°I was thinking about replacing these with something more robust and magical and I could do the same for you?¡± Autumn flushed under Eme¡¯s hot gaze ¡°I-if you¡¯d like, that is. Y-you don¡¯t¡ªI mean¡ªI wouldn¡¯t presume¡ª¡±

    ¡°Yes. I¡¯d very much like an arm.¡± Eme said blankly, but amusement lingered behind the facade. ¡°Idiot.¡±

    Autumn gaped. Movement above drew her eyes. Eme¡¯s ears stood proud and tall above her head, no longer dimmed with sadness or anger. A sudden thought, a desire, flickered through the witch¡¯s mind.

    While it was hard to do, pinned as she was by the catgirl¡¯s weight, Autumn straightened and tried to project as much dignity as she had left.

    ¡°Well, for that rudeness, I won¡¯t do it for free.¡±

    Eme raised an eyebrow. ¡°Fair, I suppose. It¡¯s not gonna cost me an arm and a leg, is it? I¡¯m running out of those.¡± She giggled to herself, as if shocked by her own joke.

    Autumn coughed to hide her own smile. ¡°I was thinking more along the lines of a favor.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡± Eme said between her giggles.

    Autumn gulped. ¡°W-well, I¡¯ve always wanted to pet a catgirl¡¯s¨C¡± Eme narrowed her eyes, ¡°¡ªa Felis¡¯,¡± Autumn hastily corrected herself, ¡°ears. Can I?¡± she pleaded.

    ¡°Fine, I suppose so. Not like it¡¯s a big deal, anyway.¡± Eme muttered, seemingly unconcerned, but a rising blush painting her cheeks proved otherwise.

    Slowly, also reverently, Autumn scratched Eme behind the ears. The fur there was so soft, unbelievably so, almost like cotton in its feel. Eme melted into the touch and before long was pressing herself into Autumn¡¯s gentle ministrations. A great rumbling purr from Eme¡¯s chest startled the pair and Autumn¡¯s hand was swiftly batted away.

    With eyes wet with fresh, embarrassed tears and a face bright red, Eme chased Autumn from her tent.

    ¡°Get Mewout!¡± Eme flushed further. ¡°Go away you pest, hiss!¡±

    Autumn fled with a smile on her lips, behind her Eme grinned despite herself.

    ¡°Well, I bethink yond conversation wenteth well. Wast exposing yourself to thy bestial girlfriend part of the plan, or doth thee undress yourself for every passing wench?¡±

    Autumn tripped.

 Chapter Seventy-Six: Dragon Bones and Umbral Thrones

    ¡°No. Absolutely not!¡±

    ¡°Pretty please~ Do you know anything else around here that could cut dragon bones, Liddie?¡± Autumn asked, exasperated.

    From the aggrieved expression plastered across the Inferni pirate¡¯s face, one could be forgiven for thinking that Autumn had asked after her firstborn rather than simply for her to cut some, albeit sturdy, ancient bones down to size. And this was after she¡¯d just laughed at how Autumn had face-planted coming out of Eme¡¯s tent. She was going out anyway, Autumn had reasoned, so why not grab some bones while she was getting some meat?

    ¡°You¡¯ll blunt it, that¡¯s why!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s made of mithril! You¡¯re being overdramatic.¡±

    ¡°And those are Dragon bones! With a capital D!¡± Liddie retorted as she backed away.

    Unwilling to be deterred, Autumn followed her like a bloodhound after a sandwich. ¡°Please~ I just need a little bit!¡±

    ¡°For what?! I ain¡¯t gonna go out and risk my life, and more importantly, my sword¡¯s edge for some hobby-craft!¡±

    Autumn scowled. ¡°It¡¯s not a hobby-craft! I-I wanna make an arm for Eme.¡±

    Liddie¡¯s paused, her shoulders slumping. ¡°Yeah? Well shit, now I look like an arse, don¡¯t I? Fiiiine I¡¯ll get you some stinken¡¯ dragon bones. How much are you going to need, anyway?¡±

    Autumn giggled at Liddie¡¯s pout, which earned her a sour look.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need an arm¡¯s worth for Eme, plus some extras to spare; in case I make a mistake. Oh, and since you¡¯re already going,¡± Liddie¡¯s nose scrunched up, ¡°I¡¯ll also want enough to make some new fingers for myself.¡±

    Autumn wiggled her battered fingers at Liddie, who waved her away like she was warding off a curse.

    ¡°Double plus, I want about a couple pieces about a forearm¡¯s length to carve some wands out of.¡±

    A pair of orange eyes narrowed in suspicion. ¡°And how, pray tell, are you planning to whittle said things?¡±

    ¡°Well~¡± Autumn trailed off, eyes glancing meaningfully at the white-gold blade.

    ¡°Oh no you don¡¯t!¡± Liddie hugged her sheathed blade tighter, ¡°it¡¯s my weapon of war! Not some¡­some scrimshaw knife!¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes at the pirate¡¯s antics, she¡¯d be getting what she wanted in the end if Liddie knew what was good for her. Speaking of¡­

    ¡°I¡¯ll also need some thinner bones and tallow to make some of those anti-hex charms. Wax would be better, but beggars can¡¯t be choosers. How are yours, by the way? Need any more?¡±

    Liddie huffed, still eying Autumn with annoyance, before she gestured to her waist where a pair still hung.

    ¡°I¡¯ve not run into any more spell-casters since the gob-hags. Thanks for the charms, by the way, must¡¯ve saved my life or at least my good looks in that fight.¡±

    The playful smile that¡¯d crept onto Autumn¡¯s face vanished, a change Liddie quickly picked up on. She gave the pale witch an inquisitive look.

    ¡°You okay there? You went a little pale. It¡¯s not your stomach, is it? If so we¡¯ve got a bucket¡ª¡±

    ¡°I ran into the hag,¡± Autumn interrupted, ¡°that Finger Eater I was telling you about before, remember? I was with some other adventurers when it happened. Bardos from the Nemesis Crew was one of them. That group is all dead now, huh? Funny that. T-there was also Rarg and Val¨¦rie; two of those Lepus from that other group that I can¡¯t remember the name of, haha.¡± Autumn swallowed heavily. ¡°There was Vuriac from Eme¡¯s party, and technically, there was also Leshana and this guard named Yuupis, but they were already¡­by the time I met them they were¡­¡±

    Hot tears stung Autumn¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°They all died, Liddie. She¨CI got them killed.¡±

    ¡°Hey. Hey now.¡± Liddie grasped Autumn by the shoulder, drawing her eyes to her. ¡°None of that now. We focus on the here and now. Living in the past doesn¡¯t help anybody, ok?¡±

    Autumn wiped at her eyes, scattering her tears in nothing.

    ¡°Ok.¡± she breathed. ¡°But that¡¯s not all; she stole my Tome.¡±

    ¡°I take it that¡¯s bad?¡±

    ¡°Extremely bad. There are some spells in there that we, as in everybody, don¡¯t want her to have.¡± Autumn heaved a shuddering breath. ¡°Thankfully, it¡¯s locked, magically so. It¡¯ll probably take her a while to crack it, but not forever. She is a hag, after all. We need to get it back before she finds what she¡¯s looking for, preferably by killing her.¡±

    ¡°Hear, hear!¡± The banshee cheered.

    Autumn smiled.

    ¡°And I¡¯ll do it alone if I have to.¡±

    Liddie gazed at the raven-haired witch for a moment, taking in the steel in her eyes as she weighed a heavy decision in her mind. Eventually, the silence was broken with a sigh.

    ¡°Alright, alright. I can hear a plea when I hear one. I don¡¯t know whether you¡¯re ambitious or just plain suicidal. Maybe suicidally ambitious? Either way, I¡¯m in, but I still want a cut of the loot! I bet hags have all the nicest things! Although, thinking about it, it¡¯ll likely be all gross and cursed, won¡¯t it~ Aww man, can I take my answer back? No? Fine~¡±

    Autumn heaved a sigh of relief. ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. Cheeky witches nowadays. I swear!¡±

    ¡°Well, Yeah. I¡¯ll need a skilled rogue in my corner when¡ª¡±

    A deep and unpleasant rumbling gurgle interrupted the pair. Autumn paled as she clutched at her stomach, her wide, despairing eyes shooting up to meet Liddie¡¯s as her guts revolted against the tainted meal she had only so recently consumed. It¡¯d been hubris for her to think there were no consequences to dining on such a foul treat.

    Liddie was swift; a symptom of knowledge and experience. She seized Autumn by the shoulders and hurriedly marched her across the hall to where a not-so-porcelain throne awaited behind another ragged curtain.

    ¡°Corner! Bucket! Now!¡± she yelled as they raced against time.

    ¡°Wait, hold on! Take me off first! Nooooooo!¡± The banshee wailed, lamenting her fate.

    Liddie promptly deposited Autumn onto the rather dire-looking bucket and swiftly closed the privacy curtain around the stricken witch. When she did so, all sound from within cut off, thanks to a series of runes etched into the floor by a certain Runecaster who¡¯d spent more than their fair share of time in a deep mine with only one functioning toilet and far too many miners.

    The sounds Autumn¡¯s body made that day would haunt the young witch for the rest of her life.

    When she finally emerged half an hour later, she appeared before the others pale, sweaty, and trembling. If the banshee didn¡¯t possess the ability to see souls, Autumn might have suspected hers had fled.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°I¡¯ve seen too much, heard too much.¡±

    A loud, guffawing voice broke Autumn out of her trance.

    ¡°I see ye''v met the black throne, lassie. Wis it the pirate¡¯s cooking that did ye in or did ye stop fur a bite afore ye git ¡®ere? Let me know sae I can stretch oot mah racing legs! Haha!!¡±

    Edwyn¡¯s loud laughter boomed out into the expansive foyer. The great bearded Manus had sat themselves down in the center of the encampment to tinker away at their rune-crafted fireplace-slash-heater. Beside them, shaking her head in fond annoyance, was Nelva.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Liddie called out warningly as she waved a hammer in Edwyn¡¯s direction that she¡¯d just been using to tenderize the dragon steaks. ¡°How about you try cooking with nothing but tough as shit meat and salt!¡±

    ¡°My shit ain¡¯t bin tough since ye started cooking!¡± Edwyn shook a hairy fist. ¡°How ye kin mess up wi¡¯ only two ingredients, I¡¯ll ne¡¯er know!¡±

    Nelva smiled at Autumn, ignoring the other two¡¯s antics. She was currently out of her armor, looking just as skinny, perhaps even more than the rest of them. One of her long ears lay bent over, dangling in front of her face because of a poorly healed cut she¡¯d sustained in the battle above.

    ¡°Don¡¯t mind them. It¡¯s good to see you, Autumn.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good to see you too. How did you guys get here anyway?¡± Autumn asked quizzically. ¡°How far did you get washed away? Have you seen Nethlia? Or Pyre?¡±

    Nelva held up a hand, stalling Autumn.

    ¡°As much as I¡¯d like to answer all your questions, we¡¯ll do it after you¡¯re cleaned up. Just toss the contents of the bucket out of the window first. You¡¯ll know the one. Do try not to get it everywhere; we just cleaned up the last ¡®incident.¡¯¡±

    It didn¡¯t take all that long for Autumn to clean up everything, from the bucket to herself, but by the time she was done, her clothes had dried enough that she could at least slip on some underwear behind the privacy of a pillar.

    Now she found herself sitting in the warmth of the runic fireplace, dubiously eying the steaks Liddie was butchering.

    ¡°Where did you find that salt? It¡¯s not¡­people salt or something right?¡±

    Edwyn chuckled. ¡°Nope, juist regular ol¡¯ salt. I guess even necromancers need seasoning, unlike someone!¡±

    ¡°Stow it, you!¡± Liddie growled, punctuating her statement with a heavy thud upon the meat that sent the entire table she was working on jumping.

    Nelva rolled her eyes with a smile.

    While her guts were still in open rebellion, Autumn¡¯s stomach was empty once more and she craved a decently cooked meal. So much so that she was willing to brave Liddie¡¯s ire to get it.

    ¡°Umm, Liddie?¡±

    ¡°What?!¡± The table jumped once again.

    Autumn gulped. ¡°I could do the cooking, if you don¡¯t want to. I¡¯ve some experience with grilling steaks. If that¡¯s alright that is?¡±

    Orange eyes squinted at Autumn as an eyebrow rose. ¡°Implying that I don¡¯t? These steaks,¡± another heavy thud jumped the table, ¡°are tough as sh¨C¡±Edwyn sniggered, ¡°as¡ªfuck, I don¡¯t know what, but they¡¯re tough. We¡¯re chewing on dragons here, people! What do you want from me?! Damn it guys! I¡¯m a pirate not a miracle¡­person. They¡¯re the clerics or something, right?¡±

    ¡°Maybe it died afraid?¡±

    All eyes turned to Autumn questioningly, she blushed and tried to hide underneath a hat that wasn¡¯t there. Clearing her throat she explained.

    ¡°Umm, I read somewhere that fear makes the meat tough? You gotta kill it before it knows you¡¯re there or something like that. O-or so butchers and hunters have said.¡±

    Liddie snorted before flouncing off to sit beside the others, to which Edwyn cheered and got an elbow to the ribs. ¡°You¡¯re the expert. Go ahead and de-scare our dinner then.¡±

    Quickly, before the pirate could change her mind, Autumn scurried over to the meat and worked her magic, both literally and figuratively, and soon there was a wonderful sizzle in the air as thick cuts of meat met a hot skillet. The smell of cooking meat overpowered the staleness in the air, and while it made Autumn¡¯s guts twist at first, it smelt far better than it was outside.

    Edwyn rubbed their hands together excitedly as Liddie grumbled.

    Off to the side, a cute little nose poked out from her tent, sniffing the air.

    ¡°So? Who else is here, anyway? I¡¯ve met Eme,¡± Autumn said, nodding over to the tent that hid the catgirl as she worked the skillet, ¡°but Liddie mentioned some others? Some of which had died? Did you all meet up here, or in the tunnels?¡±

    Liddie was the first to speak, trying not to look too excited by the cooking meat. She was fooling nobody.

    ¡°Me, Nelva, and Edwyn¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s Nelva, Edwyn, and I.¡± Nelva interjected.

    ¡°ME, NELVA, AND EDWYN,¡± Liddie continued with a glare, ¡°washed up together in the tunnels miraculously. There wasn¡¯t much in the way of game animals in the tunnels, just some foul tasting lizards here and there. Most of the mushrooms we found we didn¡¯t like the look of, not even our tunnel-bound compatriot here knew what they were.¡±

    Edwyn grunted as Liddie nudged them.

    ¡°Aye. Mighty streenge specimens doon here.¡±

    Autumn nodded as she flipped a steak over, the underside was only slightly charred; just the way she liked it.

    ¡°Yeah, I know what you mean. I ran into a forest of them and inhaled a bunch of spores that made me cough up blood. I¡¯m better now, just got a rustier timber to my voice than before.¡±

    ¡°I was going to ask,¡± Nelva muttered. ¡°After that we ran into a pair of those Umbra Elves; the assassins, I think they were. They¡¯re scouting around for an exit right now, and will be back any second, so just leave some food for them.¡±

    Autumn nodded, rubbing a pinch more salt into the meat.

    ¡°The others we juist sort o¡¯ wandered intae. Found a handful o¡¯ guardsmen ¡®n¡¯ a trio of Lepus that way.¡± Edwyn cast a solemn gaze towards the bundles of cloth. ¡°Sadly, the guardsmen lost thair lives to traps ¡®n¡¯ undead. One o¡¯ the Lepus adventurers bit it too.¡±

    ¡°The other two went out in search of mushrooms or roots to eat on account of the fact we can¡¯t eat meat.¡± Nelva said, ¡°We¡¯d be worse off than you were if we tried. Mostly. I think we can have small amounts, maybe? I¡¯ve never tried it, but it¡¯d certainly not be enough.¡±

    Autumn looked her over. While she was skinnier than the rest, she didn¡¯t look at a dire stage.

    Had the others given her their rations when they found this place?

    She¡¯d hoped she would have if she were in that position.

    Autumn looked down sadly at the steaks that sizzled so nicely in the skillet.

    ¡°Is this about the time that I said I told you so?¡± the banshee whispered smugly.

    Autumn ignored her.

    ¡°Ok, that doesn¡¯t explain how you got into this place? Was it unlocked? You¡¯d think a necromancer would lock their front door. Or did you sneak in?¡± Autumn asked as she dished up the first of the dragon steaks.

    After a brief fight in which Edwyn emerged victorious, clutching a juicy steak in their jaws, they sent a meaningful glance to her.

    ¡°Humph. When I wis back in Grudge Mountain, I attended an auction in whilk I bought an ivory key that bore streenge runes upon it. At first thay made no sense tae me, juist gibberish, thay wur, however¡ªoh, this is a guid steak, see this is how it¡¯s dane you water weasel¡ªpardon me, but it turns out ¡®twas a key within a key.¡± Edwyn smiled, beard smattered with steak juices, ¡°The runes matched up wit¡¯ those in that door yonder, ¡®n¡¯ once placed within the lock properly, ¡®click¡¯ it opened richt up. I reckon I owe that auction house something mighty fine, aye?¡±

    Autumn stared.

    ¡°Funny how these things work out, huh.¡± Liddie shrugged, rubbing absentmindedly at fresh chips in her already short horns. ¡°Hey! You¡¯re burning my steak! Hey!!¡±

    Hurriedly, Autumn turned back to the pan and continued cooking, mindful of the stare burning into her back. Within moments, she had another steak done, which was swiftly stolen. Autumn sent a glare Liddie¡¯s way, but the pirate ignored her in favor of her first good meal in days.

    Time drudged on and Autumn soon found herself before Eme¡¯s tent once more, a pair of steaks in one hand and all her now dry things tucked under the other.

    In lieu of knocking she called out.

    ¡°Hey Eme, I¡¯m sorry about what happened before and I brought a peace offering. Can I come in?¡±

    The tent flaps opened slightly, revealing a bright slitted eye that dilated rapidly upon seeing the food.

    ¡°Get in!¡± Eme whispered as she pulled Autumn in.

    Autumn quickly sat opposite Eme in a mirror of before, this time wearing underwear. The catgirl almost looked disappointed, but quickly brightened up when she eyed the steaks.

    ¡°Um, so,¡± Autumn said as she placed the plate down between them, ¡°I don¡¯t exactly have a tent. So, I was thinking, maybe you might like to share? I got you the best steak of the lot as a bribe~¡±

    And it was. Autumn wanted it for herself, but sleeping in an insulated tent sounded nicer.

    Eme eyed her, eyed the steaks, then eyed the tent. A slight blush and smile crested her face which was swiftly crushed. What couldn¡¯t be hidden was the pleased curl of her tail.

    ¡°Deal.¡± Eme said imperiously, ¡°but no handsy stuff, alright?! Keep your witchy mitts away from my ears!!¡±

    With the most glorious of pacts sealed, Autumn handed over her prized steak to the catgirl and watched in morbid fascination as it vanished in a few bites. Quickly, she devoured her own, lest the girl opposite got any funny ideas. As Liddie had said, the steaks were rather tough and gamey.

    And with that, Autumn¡¯s long and grueling day finally drew to a close.

    Laying her head down upon her pack, and under the warmth of her blanket and robes that she graciously shared with Eme, Autumn closed her eyes in search of the next day. They cracked open only once to glance down at the furry-eared head that rested itself sleepily upon her shoulder.

    Autumn smiled as her dreams came to her with their own soundtrack of rumbling purrs.

 Chapter Seventy-Seven: Of Banshees, Dark Elves, and Rabbits

    Darkness.

    A bleak blackness greeted Autumn¡¯s tired eyes, rippling out from her like endless waves on a polished ocean. The reflection below mirrored her struggle. Autumn and her double cast their eyes about, trying and failing to take in the entirety of the desolate nothingness.

    However, rather than feeling fear or trepidation at the sight, she found solace in the dark void.

    ¡°What is this place? Where am I?¡± Autumn mumbled to herself.

    ¡°Tis thy mind. Such an empty place, is it not?¡±

    Autumn spun. Beside her floated the banshee, clad still in her haunting visage of a murdered Fae. A head of long, wispy white hair swam in unseen waters about her like a halo of creeping dread and sorrow. Piercing eyes pinned Autumn in place while a sharp smile whispered upon her pale blue lips.

    The young witch¡¯s eyes widened even as a scowl tugged her lips downward.

    Seeing it, the banshee rolled her eyes. ¡°Tis but a joke, lighten up, would thee?¡±

    ¡°How am I here? I don¡¯t recall doing this.¡±

    ¡°Twas not thee whom didst beg after mine own aid? Didst thee not asketh after training from one such as I to buckler thy mind from the frolicking of intruders? Therefore, I didst bringeth thee hither, till yond lesson I didst impart.¡± The banshee asked archly as she idly smoothed down her tattered dress.

    ¡°I don¡¯t remember begging.¡± Autumn grumbled.

    Ignoring her, the banshee continued. ¡°To beginneth, thee shall needeth to fortify thy mental conjuration. Bethink not of thy mind as this blankness, this daunting void of exsufflicate thoughts, but of something outworth of what cameth ¡®efore. Perchance thy mind is a lodging of memory; a grand library or home? Or haply, thy mind is of twisting connections like a spiderling¡¯s web? Close thy eyes anon and finally see.¡±

    Autumn gave an aggravated huff as she was ignored. However, she still placed her trust in the banshee¡¯s wisdom, seeing as she¡¯d promised her aid already and was unlikely to betray her.

    Closing her eyes, Autumn set to thinking about just how her mind worked and weaved. And when they next opened, everything had changed.

    No longer did a darkness encapsulate her mind, but a new dawn of never-ending hallways, each emblazoned with a myriad of fantastical looking doors to either side.

    The banshee drifted slowly down a hallway. ¡°Hmm, not what I would¡¯ve picked, but howev¡¯r.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Don¡¯t diss my mind!¡± Autumn yelled as she hurried to catch up.

    Eventually, the pair came to a stop in front of a lone door. A slab of splintered wood barely hung onto its frame by a couple of battered screws. Glancing beyond it, Autumn took in the sight of a gargantuan library full of towering shelves that sailed endlessly into the sky. Each one was full to the brim with books upon books; some colorful to the extreme and full to bursting, others more chaotic or tribal in nature, with only a handful of scant pages within.

    This was where Autumn¡¯s knowledge of all languages dwelt.

    The banshee peeked inside only once.

    ¡°Hmm, tis bust''d up very well. Nev''r thee fear for it shalt heal in due time, one only might wait a few days march still. To confound thy foes and barricade thy mind, simply conjure a lock upon the door. Maketh thine door as sturdy as thy mind can vouchsafe.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± Autumn asked, perturbed. She¡¯d expected something a little more¡­mystical.

    ¡°...thee wanteth a harder task?¡±

    The banshee cocked an undead eyebrow.

    ¡°No! No! I¡¯m good.¡± Autumn hastily backtracked.

    Glancing at the battered frame and the door barely held within, Autumn imagined a steel lock upon it and when she next blinked, it was there.

    Autumn stared at it skeptically. ¡°Are you sure it¡¯ll work? It seems a little flimsy to me.¡±

    The banshee rolled her eyes. ¡°If thee bethink it willst not, then it wonneth. Tis the mind we art talking about; a single string might beset an army if thee believed it to beest so. Willpower is thy bodkin and bucker hither. Reinforce thy lock, night after night till all doubt hast fled thee. Now, I believeth it tis thy time to awaken. Begone.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s eyes snapped open.

    For a second, she didn¡¯t know where she was. Above her hung an unfamiliar tent ceiling and drifting in from outside were the soft sounds of conversation and the smells of a cooking breakfast. But as her stomach growled its impatience, the sordid memories of yesterday slowly trickled in.

    Rapidly blinking the sleep from her eyes, Autumn tiredly shifted Eme¡¯s head from her shoulder, mindful as to not wake her. Left behind by the catgirl was a patch of drool, wetting her shirt.

    Autumn huffed, amused and only slightly miffed.

    Quietly, she dressed herself back up in her witchy attire, dark hat and all. The familiar weight of it and the billowing warmth of her now dry robes provided a soothing balm.

    Stepping out of the tent, her eyes quickly adjusted to the gloomy light and sought out those who¡¯d gathered around Edwyn¡¯s rune-made fireplace. Faces both familiar and new glanced her way. Aside from the usual bickering pair of Liddie and Edwyn, as well as Nelva, who wore a gentle but fed-up expression while watching them, there were four other individuals.

    A pair of Umbra Elves stood apart from the others on one side of the runic fireplace. Without the dark cloaks concealing their forms, Autumn got a good look at the webbing-strung wetsuits that hugged them like a second skin. Their appearance to her was reminiscent of Earth¡¯s navy seals or some futuristic cyberpunk super-soldiers.

    One of them caught her eye, leading Autumn to cock her head in thought as she stared at the smirking Elf and her white hair.

    ¡°Lady Nizana?¡± Autumn asked tentatively.

    The Elf¡¯s smile widened, stretching the pale scars on her purple skin. ¡°I¡¯m glad you remember me as I wasn¡¯t sure if you would, given how intoxicated you were last time we met. I¡¯m afraid that while my deck of cards survived, we don¡¯t have the booze to make it as fun as last time.¡±

    Autumn blushed.

    ¡°Great, another one. Is this one gonna do any work, or just freeload like the cat?¡± A foul-tempered voice called out.

    Glancing over sharply, Autumn took in the unfamiliar Lepus that was currently glaring at her. The male defender had seated himself on a crate, eating a few fried mushrooms. Surprisingly, he¡¯d somehow retained his gear. Iron chainmail lay draped over a silk gambeson and at his side lay a pairing of a wooden shield and iron blade.

    Before Autumn could respond, the other Lepus at his side lightly elbowed him in the side, causing him to let out a grunt.

    ¡°Roland, be careful of your words please. There is no need to cause offense in good company.¡± Evrard said.

    Autumn blinked as she stared at another of her gaming buddies. With both Eme and Lady Nizana, they had most of that night¡¯s party here. Only Arvius¡ªmay he rest in peace¡ªand Mister Bastistin were missing.

    She just hoped that the other Lepus was in a better place than they were.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Mister Evrard, it¡¯s good to see you, despite the circumstances.¡± Autumn said, dipping her head politely.

    The spearman¡ªspearbunny?¡ªgave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. ¡°Oui. While the tavern was a tad comfier, I¡¯m no less glad to see another spellcaster added to our ranks. Ah, pardonne-moi, I forgot to introduce myself properly. I am Monsieur Evrard Quint, copper-rank, and this foul-weathered friend of mine is Monsieur Roland C?t¨¦, also copper. I¡¯ll apologize for him. Times have been tough, and while that is no excuse for his bad manners, I simply ask you to understand where he is coming from.¡±

    Roland grunted as he ate.

    Autumn frowned as she eyed the pair. She considered Eme her friend and the polite disdain the spearman couched in his words rubbed her the wrong way.

    However, before she could offer a scathing rebuttal in defense of her friend, Nizana butted into the conversation.

    ¡°Well, if we are introducing ourselves all formal like. I am Lady Nizana Bladewarden, silver rank,¡± she grinned haughtily at the Lepus pair, who gave either a scowl and nod respectively, ¡°and this is my compatriot Illiamtree Bloodscythe, also silver.¡± She gestured to her male companion, who inclined their head slightly in a nod. When she continued, it was with a bloodthirsty smile on her face. ¡°And may your bloodhunts be ever glorious and the bite of your blades run deep.¡±

    Everyone eyed the Umbra Elves silently.

    It was Autumn that broke the silence in the end.

    ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure. I¡¯m Witch Autumn, just copper rank.¡±

    Suddenly, Liddie clapped her hands together loudly, drawing their attention as the sound echoed down the hall. Some looked more annoyed with her than others.

    ¡°Alright, as much as I¡¯d love to continue this adventurer cock-measuring contest¡ªmy dick is bigger by the way; gold rank, but they''re totally looking to make me platinum rank any day now. I¡¯ll get a gambit card and everything, so suck my big meaty¡ª¡±

    ¡°Get oan wi'' it, wull ye! The sea has made yer brain all soft, I swear!¡± Edwyn bellowed.

    Liddie stuck her tongue out at them, but she continued.

    ¡°Ehem, we¡¯ve a lot of work to do, people, so get to it! I don¡¯t want to be here forever, do you?!¡±

    With only slight amounts of grumping and groaning, the other groups of two exited the tower to brave the miasma in search of either an exit or edible mushrooms, leaving behind the Dusk Wolves plus Eme to tackle the tower on their lonesome.

    Nelva approached Autumn with a mess tin in hand. Inside sat a small, sad collection of overcooked meat and a handful of burnt mushrooms. Nelva offered Autumn an apologetic smile.

    ¡°Sorry, Liddie got to the stove first, but I salvaged what I could. I know humans need more than just meat in their diets, so I spared some of mine for you.¡±

    Autumn took the food gratefully. ¡°Thank you. You didn¡¯t have to.¡±

    ¡°I know.¡± Nelva smiled. ¡°We left some meat for Eme by the stove. Usually, we¡¯d just place it by her tent, but here¡¯s hoping she¡¯ll come out with you here. I know you¡¯re not that close, but it¡¯s more than the rest of us.¡± Her face hardened. ¡°Don¡¯t let what Monsieur Roland said get to you; us adventurers are meant to look after each other. We¡¯ll pick up her slack until she gets back on her feet.¡±

    Nelva¡¯s eyes flickered to look over Autumn¡¯s shoulder. When she looked behind her, all Autumn saw was a slight swaying of the tent flap.

    ¡°Tr¨¨s bien, I¡¯m planning going upstairs today to see if anything else is salvageable. We¡¯ll likely have all the traps cracked by tonight. Get what you need done today for tomorrow we¡¯ll see what the second floor has in store for us.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s anything like the rest, expect undead with a healthy pinch of traps.¡± Liddie quipped as she approached.

    ¡°Don¡¯t ye dare be makin'' any more cooking jokes! You¡¯ll make a chef cry wit'' what ye''v done tae that dragon.¡± Edwyn groused as they joined them.

    Nelva rolled her eyes at the pair. If she did that anymore, her eyes might just fall out.

    ¡°So,¡± she interrupted their bickering, ¡°what¡¯s the plan for today?¡±

    ¡°Hobbycraft.¡± Liddie snarked.

    It was Autumn¡¯s turn to roll her eyes.

    Nelva raised a questioning eyebrow alongside Edwyn, although she did have to blow her dangling ear away from her face for it to be seen. Edwyn¡¯s just disappeared into their bushy head of hair.

    Autumn cleared her throat to explain.

    ¡°I asked Liddie¡ªyesterday? How long did I sleep? Nevermind¡ªI asked her to collect up some lengths of dragon bones for me when she was out getting more meat as I want to both remake my fingers and build a prosthetic for Eme.¡±

    ¡°You also wanted some for a wand, your majesty.¡± Liddie bowed playfully.

    ¡°Ye know how tae make wands?¡± Edwyn asked, impressed and for once ignoring the pirate¡¯s antics.

    Autumn blushed and awkwardly rubbed at her neck. ¡°Nope. Not a clue. I was just gonna smash some stuff together and hope it doesn¡¯t blow up.¡±

    Everyone stared at Autumn blankly.

    ¡°Welp, guid luck wi'' that, lassie!¡± ¡°It''s been nice knowing you, Autumn.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll get those Dragon bones on the double. This¡¯ll be so~ funny!¡±

    ¡°Hey! Wait guys, don¡¯t run away! I could use some help!¡±

    ¡°¡°¡°Not on your life!!!¡±¡±¡±

    <hr>

    Autumn looked curiously around the basement of the tower with Nelva trailing behind her, having unsuccessfully tried to escape the witch¡¯s grasp. Edwyn was still upstairs, working to convert their runic heater into a rudimentary forge at Autumn¡¯s request. Changing it into something that¡¯ll allow them to melt down the black-iron for use later and for easier transport.

    There were only three rooms in the basement; a prison, an armory, and a crypt.

    The prison itself was empty save for a few dusty, manacled bones within a line of cells that were barred with black-iron. They were likely the ancient remains of some unfortunate adventurers that¡¯d befallen a necromancer¡¯s ire.

    When Autumn poked at one, it crumbled to dust. Coughing, she retreated from the cells under the amused gaze of Nevla.

    ¡°Say, what do you know of this place? Of necromancers?¡± Autumn asked as they made their way towards the looted armory.

    ¡°Hmm. A bit, but not much. Just general stuff, really.¡± Nevla answered. ¡°What do you want to know?¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Anything really.¡±

    ¡°Well, this place is probably older than the Echea Empire, for a start.¡±

    ¡°Really? Isn¡¯t the empire really old? My notebook said it was the 582nd year or something.¡±

    Nelva gave Autumn an indulgent smile.

    ¡°582nd year of the 5th era. Meaning it¡¯s the 582nd year of Empress Zarissa Vassira¡¯s reign. The 4th era was her mother¡¯s, and she lived roughly 567 years. The rest going all the way back to the 1st were about the same length, more or less.¡±

    Autumn stopped to think. ¡°Wait so that¡¯s roughly¡­2,910 years? That¡¯s impressive for an empire, I think.¡±

    Nelva nodded.

    ¡°Indeed it is, good leaders have kept it in check. Even under their protection, so many of my people¡¯s nations have risen and fallen at the same time. But we¡¯re getting off track, You were asking after the necromancers?¡±

    Autumn nodded as they ducked into the armory. The place looked rather sad, seeing as the adventurers had already looted it like a pack of locusts. What wasn¡¯t already upstairs was piled up in a corner, ready to be transported away.

    Picking through the loot, Autumn found a lonely black-iron blade that roughly matched the dimensions of her old one.

    Seeing her holding it, Nelva answered Autumn¡¯s unasked question.

    ¡°Yes, you can take it; we¡¯ve got enough that we won¡¯t miss it.¡±

    ¡°Thanks!¡± Autumn said as she slipped the blade into her vambrace. ¡°So, this place is over 2,910 years old? Wow.¡±

    ¡°Likely more than that. Back before the immigration of the Inferni people, a cabal of necromancers ruled the north while in the south, beyond the Great Thirst and the Steelspine, slaver nations of the Umbra ran rampant. Of course, they still do, but that¡¯s another sad tale. Where was I? Oh, right. Back in those days, they preyed upon both of our peoples for their slaves and corpse puppets. It is said that the divine Angelus dared to make war upon the necromancers and drove the human nations into numerous fruitless crusades against their shores, but I highly doubt that as the winged angels tend to keep to their lofty peak.¡±

    Autumn drank in every word, watching enraptured as Nelva told the tale and picked through the armor that¡¯d been left behind. She held up an old black-iron chain-shirt to Autumn¡¯s torso, before nodding to herself.

    ¡°Here, wear this for now. We¡¯ll find you a better one back in Duskfields.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡± Autumn blinked dumbly, surprised by the sudden change in the topic. ¡°But I¡¯ve got a magic shield. Why would I need this?¡±

    Nelva gave Autumn a stern look.

    ¡°It¡¯s for when you run out of magic and forget to dodge. Will it interfere with your magic at all?¡±

    ¡°Um, I don¡¯t think so?¡± Autumn answered, unsure herself.

    ¡°Then put the gods-damned shirt on, Autumn.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Autumn grumbled as she took off her robes to put the chain-shirt on. She didn¡¯t like the extra weight on her, but when she wrapped her belt back around her, it wasn¡¯t so bad. Plus, she could admit it was a good idea.

    Seeing Autumn dressed in the armor, Nelva happily continued her tale.

    ¡°Now, after the Inferni came, things were different. They allied themselves with the Lepus and the other oppressed peoples of this continent and drove the necromancers into the sea, chasing them all the way into the frozen lands to the north. Whether they still live, I don¡¯t know. This place was likely their last bastion; a holdout of the war.¡±

    ¡°How likely is it that there''s a necromancer still living, or unliving, here? One from the war? A lich or something?¡±

    Autumn gulped as she cast her eye around the crypt they¡¯d ventured into. Signs of the earlier fighting were abundant here. Bloodstains marred the floor amongst the cracked stone and coffins.

    Nelva looked around, too.

    ¡°Here? Not likely. What would the odds of that be? If there was one, I doubt they¡¯d just let us camp out in their foyer. No, there are no necromancers here. No way.¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t know which of them she was trying to convince more.

 Chapter Seventy-Eight: Part-Catgirl, Part-Dragon, All Purrfect

    ¡°Here, one shipment of dragon bones as requested. I¡¯ll kindly ask you to not use Liddie¡¯s dragon-cutting-services ever again. Please and thank you!¡± Liddie said tiredly as she dumped a load of dragon bones before Autumn with a clatter.

    An extensive coating of sweat lay upon the pirate¡¯s brow, plastering her hair to her scalp as she stood before Autumn breathing heavily and smelling of death and rot. Already she¡¯d kicked off her gore-coated boots by the entry. They were likely ruined beyond saving by mundane means, and only magic would have any hope of removing the grim liquid from the leather.

    ¡°Thank you! This¡¯ll really help.¡± Autumn said, handing over a waterskin.

    Liddie took a hearty swig, shuddering slightly as the icy water ran down her throat.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. I¡¯m going to take a shower. Don¡¯t bother me unless we¡¯re being invaded or something.¡± Liddie waved her off even as she started stripping her sweat-laden clothes off on her way to the bathing area.

    Thankfully, she did leave her cutlass in Autumn¡¯s care, albeit reluctantly.

    Edwyn snorted. ¡°Ignore her. What dae we dae first, then?¡±

    Autumn turned to take them in.

    Behind the bearded Manus sat their rudimentary rune-forge, and while it looked rather ramshackle and strange, she couldn¡¯t deny the massive amount of heat it was pouring out. She¡¯d already had to take off her robes and newly acquired armor just to stand near it without dying. The sweat that constantly rolled down her back caused her loose tunic to cling to her skin.

    Nelva had wisely opted to retreat to the first floor in order to escape the pounding heat and also to avoid Autumn finding something for her to do.

    ¡°Well, how about you start on melting down the metal while I start on some measurements?¡± Autumn said, rummaging around in her pack for a length of string and a charcoal stick.

    ¡°Sounds lik¡¯ a plan.¡± Edwyn grunted. ¡°Let me know when ye¡¯ll need help. Juist be canny of sparks or any flame. Even though we are protected by magic in here, we don¡¯t wanna ignite that miasma ootdoors. We¡¯d likely blow a fresh, staotin¡¯ muckle hole in the mire, Haha!¡±

    Autumn blanched.

    She hadn¡¯t thought about that. Maybe it was a good thing that Pyre wasn¡¯t here?

    Shaking those dire thoughts free, Autumn focused on the task before her. The first thing on her agenda for today was to make her new fingers. One because it would be easy enough to replace if she made a mistake, and two, she didn¡¯t have Eme¡¯s measurements yet. Autumn hoped she¡¯d come out in her own time, either with a cat¡¯s curiosity driving her or its hunger.

    Wielding the Kraken¡¯s Bane carefully, Autumn cut off a few smaller pieces about the length of her finger bones. However, as she was contemplating how to shave them down without cutting any more fingers off, Edwyn snorted in amusement and held out a smaller knife to her. It was about the size of a pen knife and blazed dimly with runes.

    ¡°Here, use this fur the wee bits; it''s mah rune knife.¡±

    Autumn blinked at it before shifting her eyes up. ¡°If you had this; why was I using Liddie¡¯s?¡±

    ¡°¡¯Cause the pirate gets tae precious over her blade ¡®n¡¯ it¡¯s fun tae watch her squirm. As fur mah knife; it¡¯s more fur detail work, anyway. You¡¯ll still want her mithril fur the larger pieces.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Autumn gingerly took the rune knife and set aside the cutlass. With it in hand, her work grew smoother, quicker, and, more importantly, safer. And before long, she had a new set of fingers before her.

    However, her new design differed from her old one, and not just in the materials. The originals that she¡¯d made over a month ago sat at where her fingers abruptly ended, attached to a leather glove and controlled by an iron wire that was riveted to an old iron ring on her thumb.

    While it worked for what she needed, it had its flaws.

    For one, the way her fingers aligned with the prosthetic wasn¡¯t as secure as she¡¯d liked and constantly rubbed. Another flaw she¡¯d noticed was that the wire wasn¡¯t as responsive as it could be and recently she saw it get clogged up with gunk.

    To fix these two issues, she¡¯d made some minor changes.

    Now the stumps of her fingers would sit within a padded hollow in the bones and she¡¯d come up with a more magical solution to the wire problem. It¡¯d still have iron within it, but just to connect the pieces together. While she could do that too with her magic and Edwyn¡¯s runes, if she ever came across some anti-magic zone or something like that, she didn¡¯t want it to fall apart on her.

    Autumn finished carving in the fingernails on her new prosthetic.

    ¡°Wire!¡± Autumn called out, looking over her shoulder.

    ¡°Here!¡±

    The pair worked together to link the pieces. Once done, Autumn explained her next steps to the patiently waiting Manus.

    ¡°So, I was thinking of creating magical tendons in the fingers. Each section would have multiple cords that¡¯ll connect down towards the hand. Can you add any runes to it to help anchor them?¡±

    Edwyn rubbed their beard, contemplating the problem as they gazed over the pieces. They nodded confidently to Autumn. ¡°Aye, I can dae something like that. I''ve git a little gem dust left that we can use.¡±

    ¡°Gem dust?¡±

    Almost reflexively, Autumn reached into her robe pockets where a collection of small crystals sat; the remainders of those she¡¯d scooped up while fighting the hag. She held them up for Edwyn to see. ¡°Will these do?¡± she asked.

    Edwyn took one in hand and squinted at it. After licking it and savoring the taste, they nodded. ¡°It¡¯s guid. Git a kick o'' magic tae it, too. Yers maybe? We can use it, anyways.¡±

    After taking back their rune-carving knife, Edwyn skillfully added a few tiny runes to the underside of the fingertips and the base of the fingers. They then crumbled a crystal in their meaty palm and poured the dust into the groves and, with a mutter of magic; it stuck firm.

    ¡°There, juist stick your magic tae the anchor points. I also took the liberty o¡¯ adding a minor essence-gathering rune tae it. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯ll only draw juist enough from ye tae offset any magical atmospheric dissipation.¡±

    ¡°Right, thank you.¡±

    Edwyn turned back to the forge with a nod to create the rivets they¡¯d need.

    For her part, Autumn took apart her original prosthetic for the leather glove. As it was easily replaceable, she didn¡¯t mind using the older leather given that she distrusted anything that they¡¯d find in a necromancer¡¯s tower. Knowing her luck, it¡¯d be human skin or something equally nasty.

    Speaking off¡­

    ¡°Hey, Edwyn. What exactly is black-iron? Liddie said it only shows up around necromancers and their holds.¡±

    Edwyn grunted from their forge. ¡°It¡¯s called corpse-iron as well. It¡¯s¡­well, it¡¯s made from the dead, to be blunt. Imagine juist how many folk they¡¯d need tae make this much. Shivers the soul, it does.¡±

    ¡°..oh.¡±

    Just when Autumn thought she was all out of horror, something new appeared.

    ¡°Think of the bigger picture, Autumn. This crime thee didst not commit. Useth what falls ¡®efore thee to becometh the slayer of hags. Well, one hag in particular.¡± The banshee whispered in Autumn¡¯s ear.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡®Thank you. I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll keep it in mind.¡¯

    The last of the leather came free from the older prosthetic, and Autumn carefully used Liddie¡¯s mithril blade to cut the wire from the old iron ring. It¡¯d sat around her thumb for so long that it left a slight indent behind. She held it up to the light, looking at the faded inscriptions inside.

    ¡°In loving memory of ___¡± the rest was far too faded to read.

    ¡°Thank you old man, I won¡¯t forget you.¡±

    Autumn took the iron ring and threaded it onto the loop of leather that held the cold-iron horseshoe that Orzon had made for her, what felt like so long ago. Whether it¡¯d actually helped her, she didn¡¯t know, but she hoped it had.

    With a few swift taps of a hammer, the rivets bit into the leather and her new prosthetic was near completion. Only magic remained to be added.

    Breathing calmly, Autumn closed her eyes and reached for her magic. From within her hat, she drew forth many threads of purple and quickly bound them to the anchors Edwyn had set. One after another, she layered them until they resembled the fingers she sought to replace, burying them deep in the protective dragon bone that greedily accepted the power.

    With a final snap, they all fell into place.

    But she was not done.

    Autumn wrapped the glove around her hand, making sure that the new prosthetic sat firmly and comfortably upon her lost fingers. Once she was sure it was set, Autumn dove deep into her magic again, this time to stitch a string into her own body, sewing it into her nerves so that it could commandeer the phantom limb that haunted her.

    Opening her eyes, she looked down upon her work and saw all was good.

    She, however, was pale and shivering. But it didn¡¯t diminish her smile as her fingers curled naturally, if a little stiff, as she flexed her hand.

    ¡°Mighty fine work. Can¡¯t say I¡¯ve seen its lik¡¯ ¡®efore.¡± Edwyn said as they admired what they¡¯d done.

    Autumn¡¯s smile was genuine and bright.

    ¡°Thank you for your help, but we¡¯re only getting started.¡± She said as she stood up, brushing the bone dust from her lap.

    When Autumn turned towards Eme¡¯s tent, she found herself face to face with a curious catgirl. A brief scream of fright tore free from her throat as she fell over backwards, crashing back down onto her rear.

    Eme jumped, wincing at the sound. Her ears flattened to her skull as she watched Autumn fall.

    From the other side of the hall came a clattering as Liddie tumbled out of the shower, looking about wildly as she used the curtain to cover herself.

    ¡°Why are we screaming?!¡±

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Autumn called out, ¡°Eme gave me a fright is all.¡±

    The catgirl looked appropriately apologetic.

    Liddie just huffed in annoyance before approaching the blazing rune-forge, content to ignore them as she soaked in its heat. She wore the shower curtain like a toga which did well to hide her lithe body, but a map of scars peeked through in the areas not covered.

    Autumn tore her gaze away, clutching at her beating chest as she turned back to Eme.

    ¡°How long have you been there?¡±

    ¡°Not long,¡± Eme shrugged, in her hand was an empty mess tin, ¡°I got hungry, is all. Are you working on my arm next? Can I watch?¡±

    ¡°Sure, let me get your measurements first.¡±

    Using a knotted piece of string, Autumn measured the length, width, circumference, and every other type of measurement she needed from the girl, jotting them all down on the floor in charcoal before marking them out on the pieces of dragon bone Liddie had provided. She double-checked all measurements at least twice before picking up Liddie¡¯s blade to cut.

    The pirate looked on with disdain and horror as Autumn used her weapon like a common saw.

    Rather than making an anatomically correct version of Eme¡¯s arm, which, given the material, would¡¯ve lacked the range of movement a flesh and bone one would¡¯ve had, she instead opted to create a more doll-like version. One with ball joints at the elbow and wrist. However, she did make an elbow cap to prevent it from overextending. Not that it¡¯d harm the creation if it did, but she imagined it¡¯d be a rather disconcerting feeling for the catgirl.

    As Edwyn engraved runes onto each piece and threaded black-iron wire through them to hold it all together, Autumn set about repurposing an old gambeson for padding the inside of the bone while also fashioning a harness out of a set of belts.

    Soon Eme was standing before them awkwardly as the limb hung limp to her side.

    With only minor prompting from a catgirl¡¯s anxious eyes, Autumn set to crafting the magic to make it all work. The task before her was much harder than before. Not only was there more to do, but each section of the chain grew more and more complex as it went. Every pull, twitch, and movement needed to connect back to the source; fingers to a hand, a hand to a wrist, wrist to arm, arm to elbow, etc.

    Autumn was never more thankful for her highschool biology. She doubted there were many spellcasters in this world that could do the same as her. Not with the same amount of detail nor the understanding of why those details were important.

    The ending string, the one to stitch into flesh, slipped into place. Idly, Autumn heard a gasp of pain.

    But it was done.

    Autumn stepped back from Eme, breathing heavily as sweat ran down her face. It felt like she¡¯d just run a marathon. She took a swig of water offered by Liddie; the icy water soothed her dry throat and dulled the aching of her gums.

    ¡°Go on,¡± she gave Eme an encouraging smile, ¡°give it a try.¡±

    Eme looked at her blankly, lost. The dragon bone arm at her side didn¡¯t move, not so much as a twitch. Tears slowly built up in the corners of the catgirl¡¯s eyes as her ears and tail drooped.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know how.¡± She whispered weakly.

    A pit of anxiety opened up in Autumn¡¯s gut. Did she make a mistake somewhere? Did she need to redo it? They¡¯d spent many hours on it already, and she didn¡¯t know if she had the energy to build up the threads again.

    ¡°Hey Eme, think fast!¡± Liddie called out as she tossed a waterskin at the girl.

    It hit her in the chest.

    A furious reprimand died on Autumn¡¯s lips as she looked at Eme. While the catgirl hadn¡¯t miraculously caught the waterskin in flight, her dragon bone prosthetic was halfway through the motion of doing so.

    Eme looked blankly down at the arm she¡¯d moved without thinking.

    Liddie smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t think, just do. That¡¯s my motto!¡±

    Eme burst into tears.

    A flying catgirl abruptly knocked Autumn to the ground, enveloping her in a tight hug while bombarding her with kisses and an endless stream of thank you¡¯s. Autumn stretched an arm out weakly towards the others as her oxygen grew faint.

    ¡°Help me~¡± she uttered.

    <hr>

    Autumn knew next to nothing about wands. Not in any practical aspects, that was. She certainly had plenty of pop-culture and gaming references bouncing around in her mind. Not to mention she¡¯d already owned one once before, but that was a far cry from making one.

    ¡°So, as far as I know; wands consist mainly of a casing and a magical core. Length and flexibility might be a factor, but I¡¯ve no experience or knowledge about that,¡± Liddie snorted, to which Autumn blushed and glared before continuing on, ¡°so, I say we just focus on the first two.¡±

    ¡°We?¡± Eme asked skeptically.

    The catgirl hadn¡¯t left Autumn¡¯s side since she¡¯d let her go, effectively saving the witch from suffocation. Even now, as she sat beside the witch, she was idly playing with her new arm, growing used to it.

    Her only complaint was the lack of claws, but without a method to retract them, they¡¯d be too much of a hazard.

    ¡°Yes, we. I¡¯ll need help to get it done. Mainly ¡®cause I¡¯ve no clue what I¡¯m doing.¡±

    ¡°Wonderful.¡± Nelva muttered, having returned now that the forge was less swelteringly hot.

    ¡°So,¡± Autumn clapped, ¡°a core and a casing. Currently, we¡¯ve got only dragon bone or black-iron for the case. I¡¯m not sure about the metal, though; it¡¯d be more of a rod, but I guess that still works. For the core we can try switching; a black-iron case with a dragon bone core, and a dragon bone case and a black-iron core. Other than that, I¡¯ve got a few crystals left we can try as a core in each. Thoughts?¡±

    ¡°So that¡¯s six wands? Are you sure you need that many?¡± Liddie asked.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Most likely they¡¯ll just explode or not work. I¡¯d like a spare of each just in case, so eight wands in total. But we don¡¯t have to make it too hard on ourselves. As long as they are vaguely wand shaped, it¡¯ll be fine. For the rods, we can just make a mold of one of our carved ones.¡±

    ¡°Sounds fair, now pass me back my sword! Watching you carve with it is painful.¡± Liddie groused as she took back her weapon.

    With the combined weight of the group, Autumn soon had before her eight wands of varying quality. Four of bone and four of black-iron. The numbers rubbed Autumn the wrong way; she knew witches loved and feared the rule of threes, but she reasoned that technically two of them were unfinished as they held no cores.

    Autumn picked up the first as her friends hid behind a pillar.

    The dragon bone wand was surprisingly light, but its core of black-iron was weighty. Perhaps too much so. It felt wrong in Autumn¡¯s hands.

    ¡°No time like the present. Go on then, give it a wave.¡± Autumn muttered to herself and she waved the wand.

    And a part of the pillar beside her exploded.

    Autumn yelped and she hastily put the cracked wand down.

    ¡°Are you dead?!¡± Liddie called out.

    ¡°Not yet! The wand didn¡¯t survive, though!¡± Autumn called back.

    The next wand Autumn picked up was the opposite of the last; a rod of black iron with a dragon bone core. It felt¡­evil to Autumn, for a lack of a better word as she held it. She had a sense that it¡¯d work, but it was a wand for a necromancer, not a witch.

    Autumn swore that a body in the corner twitched.

    ¡°Not you.¡±

    Black-iron wand with a crystal core simply blew up as soon as she tried to channel through it, sending shards of metal crashing into her quickly summoned shield.

    Autumn glanced at her last option as she picked herself up. When she grabbed the dragon bone wand with a crystal core, it felt fragile in her hands. Disposable even. It was not likely to survive for long, but it would work and not cause an undead outbreak while it was at it.

    What more could a girl want?

 Chapter Seventy-Nine: When at the Bottom, the Only Way is Up

    Autumn fidgeted nervously as she ascended the stairs to the first floor of the tower of bone and black-iron, rechecking that she had everything with her for the third time. Her new armor weighed heavily upon her, tucked away beneath the billowing warmth of her tattered black robes. Upon her waist sat a trio of charms made of dragon bone, and in her hands she held both her new knife and wand.

    She felt ready for whatever the tower could throw at her.

    Her friends too bore upon them a trio of charms, for today was the day; the day they¡¯d ascend the dread tower and see what further horrors it held.

    Yesterday, after they¡¯d finished helping Autumn, Edwyn had gone back up to work upon the barrier preventing them from rising higher and after a few more hours, they finally broke through.

    Wisely, they¡¯d all agreed to postpone the ascent until the others returned from their respective searches. And after a brief, but terse, discussion, they settled on ascending the next day.

    Autumn glanced up from checking over her gear for the umpteenth time and took in the group¡¯s formation.

    Liddie led the way, wary of traps even here as she scouted the previously cleared sections. Just behind her came the frontline formed by the shielded pair of Nelva and Roland, followed closely by Evrard with his spear¡¯s longer reach and Edwyn who was looking for anything magical the pirate might¡¯ve missed. Once more, Autumn found herself sandwiched in the center of the formation, only this time alongside a nervous-looking Eme, the catgirl practically bouncing up the stairs. And behind her, trailed Nizana and Illiamtree at the rear, keeping an eye out backwards for any ambushes.

    As the stairs ended, Autumn got her first look at the first floor.

    A long hallway twisted out before her like a broken spine, full of statues illuminated by a cruel teal light. Necromancers and horrors cast in black-iron peered out hatefully from recessed alcoves in the walls. From their expressions, Autumn couldn¡¯t tell whether they were friends or foes of the tower¡¯s owner.

    Signs of fighting were abundant here; cuts and cracks marred the walls, flecks of dismembered undead had collected in the corners, and beneath a thin, almost invisible line in the wall was a red pool.

    Looking closer, Autumn saw that someone had jammed up the trap with a few black-iron blades, preventing the dull saw blade within from resetting.

    The group passed by the trap somberly.

    To their left, a series of doors led off to the tower¡¯s servants¡¯ quarters, kitchen, and pantry, while to their right a single door led to a large, once opulent dining hall.

    While Autumn only peeked her head into the servants¡¯ quarter slightly, it looked disappointingly mundane to her; if you excused the materials, that was.

    Conversely, the dining hall was designed to showcase an immense wealth through its paintings, frescos, banners, and the multitude of menacing beast skulls adorning the walls. However, the ravages of time and the adventurers surrounding her had rendered it into little more than bone dust and rotten cloth.

    Swiftly, they moved on and soon arrived at the base of the next stairs.

    Liddie turned towards the rest of them, looking for once utterly serious.

    ¡°Alright, everyone ready?¡± she asked, getting nods back. ¡°Ok, time to get our arena faces on. Remember: slow is smooth, smooth is fast. Autumn, Eme, Edwyn, you lot keep an eye out for any magical fuckery while I check for physical traps. We didn¡¯t encounter any traps on the first floor stairs, so it¡¯s almost guaranteed now: it¡¯s what I¡¯d do if I owned a creepy necro-tower.¡±

    When Liddie finished, Autumn whispered to Eme.

    ¡°Can you watch the ceiling while I watch the floor?¡±

    Eme nodded, saluting with her new arm as she found her confidence. ¡°Can do!¡±

    As Liddie had promised them, the ascent up the stairs was ponderously slow, and as she had also promised them, filled with traps. More than once, they¡¯d stopped precariously on the steps as either Liddie or Edwyn dismantled or dispelled something that¡¯d immediately kill them, if they were lucky.

    And if they were not¡­well, necromancers were certainly creative.

    Autumn shivered.

    Just as they reached the top of the staircase, Eme yelled out as her cat-like eyes caught something dimly glowing above.

    ¡°Stop!¡±

    Liddie instantly halted in place, her foot hovering a millimeter above the last step as everyone else tensed up. Autumn turned her gaze upward to where a pale-faced Eme was looking. She squinted as she peered into the shadows and saw the glyph hidden amongst the bones.

    ¡°Edwyn, there are runes above.¡± Autumn called out.

    ¡°Aye, I see them.¡±

    Liddie looked towards the spellcasters questioningly, still standing on a single, quivering leg, but remarkably keeping her balance, ¡°can I move, or will that set it off? I can¡¯t hold this position for long¡ªI knew I should¡¯ve exercised more.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Edwyn squinted as they strained their neck to look so high up. ¡°Ach, gimme some more light!¡±

    ¡°Hurry!¡± Liddie urged.

    Taking one of the few magical lanterns they had left in hand, Autumn clambered up Nelva¡¯s back with the others¡¯ support to sit upon her shoulders and cast the glow into the dark recess, revealing more of the wicked-looking runes; their jagged points wholly unlike Edwyn¡¯s bolder and blocker style.

    ¡°Hey, I can read some of these!¡± Autumn remarked in surprise, although she couldn¡¯t understand what they¡¯d do. ¡°This one says blade, I think!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not reassuring!¡± Liddie cried out, her calf twitching violently. ¡°Find the trigger, please! And quickly!¡±

    ¡°Does the rune that looks kinda like an F say bind or bound tae you?¡± Edwyn calmly asked Autumn, professionally ignoring Liddie¡¯s dramatics.

    ¡°Bind, it looks like!¡±

    Edwyn grunted before turning back to Liddie. ¡°Ye can move; it¡¯ll only activate if¡¯n ye step oan the last step, nae into its space. Sloppy work if ye ask me.¡± They shook their head disappointedly.

    Hearing that, Liddie fell back with a groan before sitting down upon a lower step to massage her aching calf.

    Nelva looked up, her eyes reflecting red in the lantern light. ¡°Can I put you down now?¡±

    ¡°No. Now hold still; your armor is poking me!¡± Autumn lightly slapped the helm between her thighs as she turned her attention back to the runes above.

    Behind her, Eme looked on with jealousy.

    Autumn hummed as she examined the sharp symbols. ¡°Hmm, it says blade here, but blade what? If it connects here and here, then it¡¯d say¡­blade wind? No. Blade storm? A storm of blades? Does it conjure a storm of blades on triggering? That doesn¡¯t seem right; there¡¯s no¡­Ah ha!¡±

    Sitting atop Nelva¡¯s shoulders, Autumn turned excitedly towards the group, causing the poor knight keeping her up to groan at the sudden shift.

    ¡°I figured it out! It¡¯s got a sympathetic link to an active storm blade spell¡ªI don¡¯t know how that¡¯s possible, but it means that if Liddie triggered it, she¡¯d be instantly diced up! No dodging as there isn¡¯t anything to see, you see?! And if you touched her, it¡¯d transfer right to you!¡±

    Her excitement at figuring it out died as the words sunk in and she took in Liddie¡¯s pale face.

    ¡°...oh, you almost died.¡±

    Liddie shrugged, feigning disregard at her narrow miss. ¡°It¡¯s not the first time.¡±

    ¡°Happy as I am for you, Autumn, can you please work out how to disable it soon? I¡¯d quite like to put you down now.¡± Nelva asked as she shifted, trying to keep Autumn¡¯s weight from digging into her armored shoulders.

    Autumn narrowed her eyes. ¡®Was she calling me heavy?¡¯

    ¡°Verily, tis a wise mistress thee did crush between thy thunder thighs.¡±

    ¡®Hush you!¡¯ Autumn snarled in her mind.

    ¡°Hmm? Och, I worked it oot already; I juist thought she might like tae work it oot as well. She was daein¡¯ well!¡± Edwyn laughed before pointing to a few runic lines, ¡°juist cut those sections off; it won¡¯t stop the trigger from connecting as it¡¯s tae warded up in failsafes, but whoever made it forgot tae reinforce the connection with the spell. You can juist disconnect it.¡±

    Taking a chisel from the Manus, Autumn followed their instruction and carved away at the runes. When she finally cut the connection, it flared up once before returning to its previous dull glow.

    ¡°Did it work?¡± Eme asked.

    Everyone turned to look at the step.

    ¡°Umm, who¡¯ll volunteer?¡± Liddie asked, trying to shy away from the frontline on her butt.

    Edwyn rolled their eyes at the pirate. Using their steel mace, they smashed a few bones free from the stair¡¯s railing and chucked them onto the last step. And when they failed to be blended, they gestured with a ¡°there, happy?¡± look.

    ¡°What if it only triggers for the living; this is a necromancer''s home after all. I doubt they¡¯d like to keep getting their puppets destroyed.¡± Evrard chimed in.

    Edwyn gave the rabbit-man who doubted him a foul look, their accent coming out even thicker as they yelled. ¡°Are ye ah Runemaster naw tae?! Wou¡¯ ye lik¡¯ tae disabl¡¯ th¡¯ ne¡¯t oown tae?!¡±

    Grumpily, the big-bearded Manus stormed past the others to stand atop the last step, holding their arms out wide to showcase a lack of rending flesh.

    ¡°Can we shift oan now!¡±

    The group swiftly fell back into formation; Autumn almost being dumped off of Nelva¡¯s shoulders.

    Grumbling slightly at the treatment, she sidled up to Eme, patting the catgirl on the shoulder as she smiled at her.

    ¡°Good job.¡±

    Eme blushed, smiling in turn. ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Autumn turned her attention back to the frontline and peeked over the shield wall to take in the room that the group slowly crept into. Unlike the floor below, this one bore no hallway and instead opened up right into the Necromancer¡¯s grim laboratory.

    Ever-burning tallow candles dotted the room with no apparent order, filling the room with disparate, overlapping arcs of haunting candlelight and the smell of burning fat. However, most of the light that filled the room came from a tormented green flame, burning away with a terrible hunger as it lay bound beneath a cauldron of black-iron.

    Over its lip bubbled the foul remnants of a long forgotten brew.

    Dominating the left-hand side of the room sat a strange alchemical contraption, so large as to stretch from floor to ceiling, running the entire length of the room. Ageless copper bound glass orbs, cylinders, tubes, and peculiar vials; some even floating untethered.

    A few stations nearby held intricate bottled potions, none of which Autumn recognised.

    Pyre would be so mad if she knew what she¡¯d missed.

    Autumn vowed to steal it all for her, if possible.

    The right-hand side of the room was the strangest by far. Similar to the alchemical array, a series of equally spaced glass cylinders full of murky liquid ran down the entire length of the room. However, unlike the array, these contraptions housed far more dire contents. Floating in what Autumn assumed to be some kind of formaldehyde were bodies, or parts of ones, at least.

    It looked like a collection to Autumn. Each but the last held a body of a different race, posed in death; a human, a demon, a rabbit-folk, elves of all kinds, and many more she could not name.

    The last was empty; its glass shattered and laying on the ground before it.

    Judging by the smoothed-down pathways worn into the floor that stretched between each station, this laboratory of nightmares and sin had seen much use by its well-practiced practitioner.

    Coming to a stop just inside the door, everyone held their breath as their eyes darted around the room, looking for threats.

    Perhaps it was the recent call they¡¯d just had, or perhaps it was the tingle that ran down her spine that prompted it, but Autumn looked up.

    And a pair of eyes met hers.

 Chapter Eighty: Donâ€™t Tap on the Glass, it Scares the Fish

    A little known fact about the undead was that they can evolve.

    Not in any natural way, of course, as they did not and could not reproduce. Those that could spread their plague of undeath with infection didn¡¯t create stronger generations like the living could.

    To do so was anathema to them.

    However, if say, one of them somehow ended up locked away within a necromancer¡¯s tower unsupervised and with access to an almost unlimited supply of necromantic ingredients and drugs, they could become more, become greater than they ever were in life or undeath.

    They could evolve.

    And a once humble undead, bound forever to guard their master¡¯s abode and endlessly stir a ruined brew within a blackened cauldron for said master that¡¯d never return, would change.

    Become bigger, stronger, smarter, and cunning.

    They¡¯d become a¡­

    Draugr.

    A poisoned claw raked across Autumn¡¯s shield as she opened her mouth to scream a warning. The force of the blow drove the witch to her knees and the air from her lungs, but she¡¯d endured worse before and at the hands of greater than it.

    ¡°Ambush!!¡± Autumn yelled.

    Her warning came too little, too late however, and was superfluous besides; as soon as it¡¯d hit the ground, everyone had spun to engage it.

    Even hunched over, it was taller than most of them and none could match its girth, bolstered as it was by toxin-bloated muscles. It¡¯d likely been a man once; a human one too, judging by its broad shoulders and the thick beard it sported. Although the proud beard had devolved into a mass of matted gore in its unlife.

    Its eyes blazed with blue flames.

    Autumn only had a split second to take this all in before the draugr snarled at her, decaying teeth revealed through its permanently peeled-back lips.

    Another poisoned claw lashed out lightning quick, this one aiming to take Eme¡¯s head clean off. The catgirl squealed in fright and instinctively raised her hands to defend herself. Ragged claw met dragon bone with resounding force, sending the poor girl flying, yet it was the claw that came off worse in that brief exchange as nary a scar remained on the bone while the poisoned claw chipped.

    The draugr snarled once more in aggravation upon seeing its surprise attacks fail.

    But there was no time to do anything more than roar as the rest of the adventurers now descended upon it.

    Iron blades sought the undead¡¯s flesh in a flurry, but only the sharpest found purchase upon the surprisingly dense muscles. Even without it wearing armor, it still felt like striking iron.

    Thick corded arms lashed out, driving the adventurers back.

    Evrard danced back hurriedly as the poisoned claws sought him out, lashing out with his spear to keep the undead back, but it continued chasing him with grim intent, ignoring the mostly ineffectual blows landing upon it. In less than a second it was in front of him, scything down with a claw to cut him to the quick.

    Yet before it could kill the cowering bunny, the claws ripped into a wooden shield.

    Roland grunted under the strain upon his shield, the claw having ripped almost down to his arm. He eyed the poison dripping down with fright.

    Furious to have its prize stolen from it, the draugr grasped the shield with its other claw and ripped it from Roland who cried out as his arm torqued painfully, but not as painful as the backhand that followed closely behind it, sending him flying off to the side.

    Evrard stared wide-eyed at the beast before him.

    Yet once more, someone intercepted it before it could capitalise on the opening it¡¯d created. The draugr cried out in rage as the white of a mithril blade cut through its side and it turned upon the grinning pirate.

    ¡°Not so big now are you? Oh fuck¡ª¡±

    Liddie ducked under a wild swing, swiftly backpedaling away.

    A thrown knife sunk deep into one of the draugr¡¯s eyes.

    It was truly enraged now. In its rudimentary thoughts, it¡¯d seen itself as greater than them, stronger than them, smarter than them, and they were proving it wrong.

    Glowing blue eyes of undead flame landed on Evrard once more, and no matter what befell it, they could not halt the draugr¡¯s charge. It wrenched the spear out of Evrard¡¯s desperate grip and struck him down with a poisoned claw, parting the silk gambeson and iron chains he wore with ease.

    Evrard cried out.

    With a mighty crash, Nelva shield-slammed into the draugr¡¯s side, only managing to shift it slightly as she bounced off. Yet that was enough to draw its attention away, and the beast quickly chased after her.

    After picking Eme up, Autumn sent the catgirl off to help drag Evrard to safety while she rushed to help Nelva. The draugr was pressing the defender back, pounding heavily upon her shield in rage, ignoring the blades biting into its back. Even Liddie was having trouble truly harming it, leaving only surface wounds that it simply ignored.

    Autumn mentally riffled through her magical arsenal as she approached the fight.

    Undead were her bane as they felt no fear.

    She¡¯d been here before, but this time she had more to work with.

    Putting her wand away, Autumn focused on her black-iron blade. When she¡¯d fought Mildred amongst the shining crystals, she¡¯d unwittingly coated her original iron knife with a razor-sharp edge of her magic. However, as the iron couldn¡¯t contain that much power, it¡¯d shattered rather spectacularly.

    The black-iron did no such thing; it simply drank the fear until a Dread Knife sang in her grip.

    When Nelva next peered out from behind her shield, her eyes couldn¡¯t help but widen in disbelief as she saw Autumn sailing through the air, having kicked off the bony wall. The witch landed upon the unwitting undead¡¯s back and drove her Dread Knife deep into its skull.

    ¡°Avada Kedavra, bitch!¡±

    The draugr staggered. While the undead couldn¡¯t feel fear, this one was smart enough to learn. It thrashed, desperately trying to dislodge the witch clinging to its back.

    ¡°Oh, shit!!¡± Autumn screamed as she was sent flying.

    Luckily, Liddie caught her out of the air. ¡°Damn, that was hot.¡±

    Autumn smiled weakly.

    With a knife lodged deep into its brainpan, the draugr wasn¡¯t as fast nor as coordinated as it was before, and soon fell to a thousand cuts. Liddie¡¯s mithril blade landed the final blow, severing its head as it twitched pathetically on the floor.

    Over two-thousand years of waiting, and it died to a witch that¡¯d been in this world just over a month.

    Autumn panted heavily, her heart pounding as she stood over the corpse alongside the others. The fight hadn¡¯t taken all that long, a few seconds at most, but it¡¯d felt far longer in her mind. She was feeling pumped as, for once, the fight had gone mostly her way, even if it¡¯d been a clusterfuck in the beginning. And she¡¯d finally gotten one over on the undead.

    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

    Although, reflecting on it, she was glad nobody understood her reference. Her cheeks already burned with embarrassment remembering it.

    Her musing was broken as Roland rushed over to Evrard, pushing Eme out of the way as he did so.

    Autumn frowned as she went over to her catgirl.

    ¡°How is he?¡± she asked.

    Eme shook her head sadly before whispering to Autumn. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look good. Without a way to cleanse the undead poison from the wound, anything we do won¡¯t help. I¡¯ve already given him a general anti-toxin, but we need a specific cure or, barring that, clerical aid.¡±

    Although she¡¯d whispered, her voice still carried to all those listening, some less keen to hear such dire news.

    ¡°Shut your fucking mouth! He¡¯ll make it!¡± Roland yelled as he clutched a limp Evrard.

    ¡°Hey!¡± Autumn growled, hackles raised as she stepped protectively in front of Eme. ¡°She did everything to help him. It¡¯s not her fault for being realistic.¡±

    Roland snarled, his visage nearly as gruesome as the draugr¡¯s. ¡°Well, maybe if she¡¯d actually pull her fucking weight, Evrard wouldn¡¯t have gotten hurt!¡±

    Darkness pooled in Autumn¡¯s eyes, weeping down her form until the lights seemed to die. The skittering shadows cheered as they saw the return of their mistress.

    Liddie clapped loudly as she stood in between the pair. ¡°Alright! Enough!!! Neither of you are helping! You,¡± she pointed aggressively at Roland, ¡°shut the fuck up and deal with your friend¡¯s wound. Try to clean it the best you can and cut away any of the necrotized flesh. We can heal it later if he survives. And you,¡± she now pointed at Autumn, ¡°put away your spooky form and look over at that alchemy station for anything that might help, as slim a hope that is.¡±

    Autumn glared at Roland for a tense second before complying. Around her the shadows sighed as they retreated.

    Seizing Eme¡¯s arm, Autumn stormed over to the alchemy bench.

    ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t say to take the cat with you¡ªfuck it; I know how to pick my battles.¡± Liddie sighed.

    Eme gave Liddie an apologetic smile as she followed meekly behind Autumn, her heart thumping loudly and it wasn¡¯t from battle.

    ¡°Fucking prick.¡± Autumn grumbled as they reached the alchemy station. She glanced apologetically towards Eme. ¡°Sorry. I shouldn¡¯t swear so much. Next time just leave that arseho¡ªthem to die.¡±

    Eme snorted. ¡°I¡¯m a bard, remember? We¡¯ve a well-versed lexicon of profanity. And you don¡¯t really mean that, do you?¡±

    Autumn fidgeted, avoiding Eme¡¯s eyes, before sighing. ¡°No, I suppose I don¡¯t. Forget it. We should look at all this stuff, right? Too bad Pyre¡¯s not here.¡±

    ¡°Pyre¡¯s one of your other teammates, right?¡± Eme asked as she carefully picked through the scattered vials and ingredients on the table. Most seemed to have been eaten or broken by the draugr over the many years.

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Yeah, an alchemist.¡± She gestured to the table. ¡°You can imagine how useful she¡¯d be here. Although, she¡¯s an Ignis. Do you know if her hair would ignite the methane gasses outside?¡±

    Eme blanched. ¡°That¡¯s a terrifying thought. But, what¡¯s methane?¡±

    Autumn flinched, scattering some empty vials to shatter on the floor. At the sound, everyone looked curiously over at them. Autumn mouthed a sorry before turning back to Eme, sweat dripping down her back.

    ¡°Ah, methane is, um, an odorless, colorless, and transparent gas. It occurs both naturally and is given off by decomposing bodies.¡± Autumn gestured to the outside where an abundance of such resided.

    Eme cocked her head to the side, ¡°if it¡¯s odorless, then why does it smell so bad out there then?¡±

    ¡°T-that¡¯s another gas: ammonia, I think. That one¡¯s a colorless and highly irritating gas with a pungent, suffocating odor.¡± Autumn recited.

    ¡°Huh, you¡¯re really well educated.¡±

    Eme¡¯s sharp eyes watched Autumn sweat before nodding to herself as if concluding something. She then leaned in towards the witch, shrinking the distance between them so she could whisper unheard by the others.

    Sweat ran down Autumn¡¯s back. What does she know? She can¡¯t have figured me out already?! How sharp is she?!!

    ¡°You¡¯re a human princess that ran away, right. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll keep your secret.¡± She winked.

    More glass shattered.

    Autumn ignored the others'' looks as she gazed at the self-satisfied look plastered across Eme¡¯s face.

    ¡°A princess?!¡± she whispered harshly. ¡°What kind of princess is a witch?!¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t know why she was trying to dissuade Eme of this notion; it was better than the truth. Despite that, a princess?!

    ¡°Exactly.¡± Eme nodded, her eyes squinted in a smile. ¡°It¡¯s an extremely clever disguise, I¡¯ll admit that, but you¡¯re too smart and educated for some village hedge witch. We had something similar back home¡ªthe hedge witches, not the human princesses¡ªand they weren¡¯t as bright as you.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a princess!¡± Autumn hissed, mildly amused but mainly horrified.

    Eme smiled. ¡°Of course not.¡± she winked.

    Autumn just sighed and turned her attention back to the shelves she¡¯d been searching through before Eme had shared her ridiculous assumption. She didn¡¯t know whether to laugh or cry.

    ¡°Find anything?¡± Nelva asked as she approached with her visor raised.

    Relief colored Autumn¡¯s features. She pointed to a locked cabinet bolted to the benchtop that housed a set of intricate made potions; one crimson, the other lime. ¡°Just those, but I¡¯ve no idea what they are.¡±

    The crimson, almost blood-like liquid lay sanguine inside of a teardrop glass vial, the stopper a grinning copper-green medusa¡¯s head with her snake hair curling down and around the bottle.

    The other was a lime-green liquid that was constantly in motion inside a fat-bottomed flask stoppered by a knot of wood while a series of vines curled around the glass.

    ¡°And why haven¡¯t you grabbed them yet?¡± Nelva asked with a raised eyebrow, again she had to blow her ear out of the way for it to be seen.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Cause it¡¯s clearly locked with powerful magic, or cursed, or both. Why else would that undead have left it alone while it¡¯s eaten everything else? I didn¡¯t know they could do that.¡±

    ¡°Neither did I.¡± Nelva said before turning and whistling, ¡°Edwyn! Get over here and help us open this up! I suppose Liddie should come over too, it might be a physical lock!¡±

    Liddie perked up from where she was trying to tug Autumn¡¯s knife free from the draugr¡¯s skull.

    ¡°Did someone say locked goods?! You did, you flirt!¡±

    With the pair of them at it, the lock didn¡¯t stand a chance. However, when Autumn reached out to grab a potion, Liddie slapped her hand away. She looked up at the pirate with a hurt expression as she rubbed her hand.

    Liddie drew herself up in what Autumn recognised as a teaching mode. ¡°First rule of adventurer looting: never touch anything magical with your bare hands, or get some other sap to do it. Why, you might ask? Cause it could be trapped, cursed, or just have some strange effect you don¡¯t understand.¡±

    ¡°The leading cause of rookie deaths is touching something they shouldn¡¯t touch.¡± Nizana whispered over Autumn¡¯s shoulder, giving her a fright.

    The pair of assassins looked over the potions as everyone turned to them.

    ¡°While I don¡¯t know much about potions, I do know a lot about vicious traps and they look clean. Your senses would likely tell you the same, but I think your teammate was just trying to make a point. A good one at that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you.¡± Liddie coughed, trying to find her rhythm again. ¡°So, always wrap them up in a thick cloth and take them to be appraised. Something the guild supplies for ¡®free¡¯ paid for by our guild taxes.¡±

    Everyone bar the rookies grumbled at the dreaded T-word.

    ¡°So, do we give one to Evrard?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°If you want them to die in agony.¡± Nizana answered her when nobody else would. ¡°Even if it was a grand healing potion, it wouldn¡¯t remove the necrotic poison from the wound. We¡¯ve done all we can and it¡¯s up to them now. And until we can get an expert to look over the potions, we keep them wrapped up, understood?¡±

    Autumn nodded. It made sense.

    She turned her attention to the still. ¡°What about this? I¡¯m no alchemist, but isn¡¯t this sort of thing really expensive? And if we got it out of here, who would even get it.¡±

    The group shared an awkward look.

    Liddie spoke up again. ¡°Well~ We¡¯re in a bit of a gray area right now. Technically, we finished our guild-issued quest when we destroyed the goblin outpost, but as we haven¡¯t turned it in yet, we are technically still on contract.¡±

    ¡°Meaning?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Meaning the guild can force us to share with the rest of the convoy.¡± Nizana answered with a mocking smirk, ¡°And because they¡¯d have to evaluate it first, every alchemist on the continent would know about it and kill to get it. So, it¡¯ll go to auction first and we¡¯ll never see it again.¡±

    Autumn slumped. ¡°So, there¡¯s no point in taking it?¡±

    Nizana raised an eyebrow. Nelva looked on jealously as she blew her ear away in annoyance.

    ¡°I never said that. We¡¯ll still make a ton of gold off of it.¡± She turned to take in the enormity of it. ¡°If we can get it out, that is.¡±

    ¡°Or~¡± Autumn began, ¡°could we just not declare it?¡±

    ¡°Are you suggesting we steal from the guild?¡± Liddie swooned. ¡°Someone hold me~ She¡¯s too much~ I might lose my position as the chief thief!¡±

    Edwyn snorted, but shook their head. ¡°Bad idea. The guild always finds oot aboot that sought of thing. We¡¯ll all be banned, juist tae start with, ¡¯n¡¯ I shudder at the fines.¡±

    Autumn nervously laughed ¡°I was just joking. What about that cauldron? Does it look any good?¡±

    ¡°I checked it oot, already. It¡¯s got an undeath elemental bound underneath it. None of us are touching that with a ten-foot pole, got it?¡± Edwyn gave everyone a stink eye, ¡°leave that tae another, more equipped team tae handle it.¡±

    ¡°Better them than us.¡± Nelva nodded.

    Autumn opened her mouth to ask another question that was burning her when the sound of a finger tapping on glass interrupted her.

    ¡®Tap. Tap. Tap.¡¯

    ¡®He did not.¡¯

    Autumn turned slowly to the sound, her eyes widening in horror as she knew what was coming, spoiled as she was by too many horror movies. Standing in front of one of the glass chambers was Roland, squinting as he looked at something inside and tapped at the glass.

    ¡°Yond clay-brained fool didst.¡± The banshee snarked.

    The glass shattered outward.

 Chapter Eighty-One: Please Donâ€™t Leave Your Idiots Unattended

    The atmosphere was rent by the sound of shattering glass as an amorphous crimson mass smashed its way free of its cylindrical prison, lunging for Roland, drawn by his foolish tapping. Immediately, the Lepus collapsed to the floor, his screams smothered by boiling blood rushing into his mouth.

    Initially stunned by the sudden violence, it took a second for the rest of them to respond.

    ¡°It¡¯s a Blood Ooze!¡± Nizana called out as they rushed over. ¡°Get it off of him quick, or it¡¯ll rip the blood from his body!¡±

    Autumn watched on in horror as the boiling blood rolled over Roland, leaving behind bubbling flesh where it touched as he thrashed in agony. All across the red mass rippled screaming faces that belched licks of superheated flame into the air, warding off the advancing adventurers.

    ¡°How do we do that?! It¡¯s a liquid!¡±

    Nizana answered Autumn as she scanned the monster. ¡°Look for a core; it¡¯ll look like a gemstone orb of some kind. Smash it and the construct can¡¯t hold itself together.¡±

    A task easier said than done.

    Sharp blades scythed through the boiling blood with care, trying not to cut Roland in the process of freeing him. However, their timidity prevented them from catching the dark orb hidden within the crimson. The strikes that skimmed the orb only caused it to flinch away, still keeping a suffocating Roland in its boiling grasp.

    Autumn narrowed her eyes.

    Whipping her wand out, Autumn sent a blast of fear screaming towards it. While the fragile wand vibrated concerningly in her hand, she paid little mind to it as the sight of the ooze recoiling, its dozens of twisting faces contorting in fear, caught her attention.

    Autumn grinned viciously.

    ¡°Edwyn! Got any ice runes left?!¡± Autumn asked as she tucked her wand away again.

    Edwyn looked over at her. ¡°Juist the one! Got a plan, lassie?¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Yeah, just freeze it after I get it off, alright?!¡±

    After getting an affirmative nod back from the Runecaster, Autumn dashed up to the weakly thrashing Roland, who was growing sluggish from a lack of oxygen. She dipped and dived around great gouts of flame, the intense heat curling the ends of her magically straightened hair, much to her dismay. Drawing to a stop beside the blood ooze, Autumn focused her magic into coating her hands with her Touch of Terror spell and plunged them elbow-deep into the boiling mass.

    The heat was incredible.

    Autumn bit back a scream and unleashed her magic.

    A thick pulse of fear blasted inside the crimson mass like a depth charge. Immediately, the blood ooze squealed and recoiled in a primordial terror, while Roland¡¯s eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he got caught up in the blast. In an act of desperate, fearful flight, the amorphous beast ripped itself away from the Lepus man, leaving behind great wounds upon him. Blood trickled freely from Roland¡¯s pores, his skin covered in oozing blisters.

    The ooze tried to run, but it did not get far before a rune shattered across it, turning a significant chunk of the mass around its heartcore to ice.

    ¡°Now! Hit it!¡± Edwyn bellowed.

    Already waiting for the cue, the adventurers didn¡¯t hesitate now, and immediately they laid into the frozen ooze with a vengeance till it lay all but shattered and melting, its heartcore cracked in half.

    Autumn sat down tiredly on the first clean section of floor she could find, puffing as she tried to get her breath back under control while the adrenaline faded from her system. And while the burning blood hadn¡¯t gotten through her robes, nor the magic surrounding her hands, her fingers still felt tender and looked rather pinkish.

    Glancing over at the cause of the misfortune, Autumn¡¯s eyes landed on Roland just as the Lepus was coming around.

    Roland¡¯s eyes snapped open in a panic, rolling wildly in his skull as he hyperventilated. When his manic gaze fell upon Autumn, it widened further in fear and he scrambled back into the bloody slush.

    ¡°Monster.¡± He croaked out, casting his maddened eyes about the others. ¡°She¡¯s a monster! She tried to kill me!! You all saw!! We need to burn her before she kills us all!!!¡±

    In a fit of rage, Liddie punched him right in the jaw, bringing an end to his frenzied yelling and sent him sprawling back into the frozen blood. Roland groaned as he clutched his jaw, glaring up at the pirate with madness in his eyes.

    ¡°Shut the fuck up!¡± Liddie growled. ¡°Autumn saved your worthless hide! You should try thanking her instead of screaming your head off. None of us want to hear it.¡±

    ¡°Forget it.¡± Autumn told her as she picked herself up with a groan. ¡°I don¡¯t need nor want any meaningless platitudes.¡± She then stepped up beside the pirate to look down upon the defender, still lying on his ass.

    ¡°Fucking amateur.¡±

    Liddie snorted as Autumn walked away.

    Nizana approached Autumn and tapped her on the shoulder. She held up a cloth-wrapped bundle the size of a fist towards the witch as she looked over. ¡°Here.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Autumn asked as she took the bundle from her. Inside was a crystal orb, split roughly in two. She looked back up expectantly at the assassin.

    ¡°It¡¯s the blood ooze¡¯s core. Seeing as we only killed it thanks to you, it only makes sense for you to hang onto it. You¡¯ll still need to submit it to the guild, but they might let you keep it as a trophy. Who knows? You might get lucky.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Autumn wrapped the core back up and stuffed it into her pack.

    Turning her attention back to the injured Lepus pair, Autumn nodded to them. ¡°Do you think we should send them back? As injured as they are, they¡¯ll just be a liability.¡±

    Nizana shook her head. ¡°With how they¡¯ve acted? No, they¡¯ll likely run off the first chance they get, taking whatever they can get their hands on while doing so. And if they survived the journey back, they¡¯d be able to sing whatever pretty tale they liked about us to the rest of the convoy. We¡¯ll take them with us. Just keep a keen eye on them.¡±

    Autumn grimaced.

    In a lighter tone, Nizana continued. ¡°Or we could¡­make sure they aren¡¯t a problem anymore. Their wounds do look rather dire, don¡¯tcha think?¡±

    Autumn swallowed heavily and closed her eyes, thinking it over. Her shoulders slumped as she opened them again.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m comfortable doing that.¡±

    Nizana shrugged, unconcerned. ¡°It¡¯s just an option.¡±

    Autumn followed behind the Umbra Elf as she sauntered over to the where the rest of the group had gathered. The other Elf, Illiamtree, quirked his head at Nizana as she approached, subtle sign language flashing between them.

    {Eliminate the dead weight?} Illiamtree signed.

    Nizana signed back, {Negative. Wait for now. Too many eyes.}

    Autumn gulped.

    Quickly, she turned her attention away, lest they think she¡¯d understood their secret communications. Her eyes landed upon Evrard. The others had tightly wrapped bandages around his chest after they¡¯d cut out as much dead or infected tissue as they could, yet blood-soaked cloth reeked foully of necrosis even so.

    Currently, feverish sweat ran down his face as he stood propped up by his spear. Beside him stood a glaring, disheveled Roland, having made his way over as Autumn talked with Nizana.

    Liddie took them all in, somehow falling into the role of leader.

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Alright everyone, back into formation as we¡¯re moving on! And it¡¯s not a request. So do it on the double! Oh, right. Autumn, catch!¡± Liddie lightly tossed Autumn¡¯s black-iron knife back to her.

    Upon reaching the end of the laboratory, everyone stopped as they got a look at the doorway to the next room of horrors. What had once been a solid black-iron door was little more than a ravaged piece of metal, as something had torn a hole right in through its center. The crinkle of glass underfoot drew Autumn¡¯s attention. She frowned as she trailed it back to the broken last cylinder.

    ¡°Did the undead we fought do that?¡± Eme whispered to Autumn.

    The witch shrugged. ¡°Maybe? Whatever it was, it broke the door from this side. See the way the metal folds outwards?¡±

    Eme nodded as she saw what Autumn was pointing at.

    ¡°No traps on it. None physical at least.¡± Liddie reported, ¡°Edwyn? Autumn? Do you guys see anything?¡±

    ¡°Nothing magical from me,¡± Autumn reported, Edwyn grunting the same.

    ¡°Ok then.¡± Liddie nodded, breathing deeply. ¡°Everyone remember the first rule? Don¡¯t touch anything.¡± She glared at them. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡±

    Swiftly, the group followed behind Liddie, dogging her heels as they entered the room before rapidly spreading out to take in the entirety of the room. Autumn hurriedly looked up as she entered.

    Thankfully, she spied no undead lurking in the shadows there.

    Autumn lowered her gaze to take in the grandeur of the new horror she found herself in.

    A morgue stretched out before them, full of stone coffins bearing all kinds of desiccated remains that¡¯d once likely served as fuel for a mad necromancer¡¯s foul experiments. Candlelight from more stinking tallow candles shone down upon the room from within the sockets of floating skulls that grinned at them from on high. In one far corner sat an undead gestalt bound in a cage of black-iron, its thousand faces screaming silently as it glared at them with cruel intelligence.

    Displayed upon the grim walls were the dead heroes of yore and legend, mutilated, twisted, and distorted into macabre artworks. Or Autumn hoped they¡¯d been dead before becoming what they were now.

    But all this played secondary to the main show.

    Dominating the center of the room was a blood-stained altar. Carved from a single dark-stone block, it looked old, older than even the dire tower it endured within. Twisting sigils and glyphs wept blood, looking more like wounds on a dying beast than carvings in stone. Each one whispered dark secrets as Autumn skimmed over them, forcing her to look away lest she learn things she wanted no part in.

    Autumn blinked the spots out of her eyes. ¡°Uhh, try not to look at the altar. It¡¯s definitely evil and might try to melt your brain.¡±

    The group looked at Autumn with varying amounts of trepidation.

    ¡°Right? Thanks for the heads up.¡± Liddie said. ¡°Let¡¯s split up into small groups and look for loot carefully. Again, need I remind you to not touch anything until the experts have cleared it? No? Ok we move out in ten.¡±

    Autumn immediately made a bee-line towards a small study full of a scattering of papers and books on the far side of the room, giving the evil-looking table a wide berth as she went.

    Eme followed in her wake like a lost duckling.

    Upon reaching the large desk, Autumn cast a cursory look over it before doing anything more. Like everything else within the tower, the materials that made it up were of bone and black-iron. However, it wasn¡¯t crude in design, just the opposite, in fact. It looked like a nobleman¡¯s bureau, complete with a fancy seat and a surface polished to a sheen.

    It didn¡¯t seem to have any magical traps layered upon it to her, but it couldn¡¯t hurt to be sure.

    ¡°Hey Edwyn!¡± Autumn called out, ¡°Can you come and check this over? I¡¯ve found some notes and papers that might be helpful.¡±

    ¡°Coming!¡± Edwyn grunted.

    After looking over the table for a few moments¡ªeven going so far as to crawl under it at one point¡ªEdwyn pointed to a few well-hidden sections. ¡°Here, ¡®ere, ¡®n¡¯ ¡®ere are some very nasty curse-runes. I¡¯ll be only a moment.¡± Edwyn then used their rune knife to scrape off some links, one after another. ¡°and~ done. It¡¯s all safe now. Well, as safe as anything can be in this place.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Autumn said as she turned excitingly to pick up a ratty notebook. Behind her, Eme stood on her tippy-toes to peek over the witch¡¯s shoulder.

    Autumn slowly flicked through the pages, skim reading as she went. What hadn¡¯t been scoured by time was all mostly either mad ramblings of a twisted mind or the twisted notes of a mad art. However, there were a few interesting tidbits she gleaned from between the dark musings.

    Clearing her throat, she softly read out loud for Eme¡¯s benefit.

    Lord Riven has fallen as of last night scoured from unlife by the¡ª

    ¡ªcome in great numbers now. No longer are they some simple creatures or livestock of the devils as my lesser colleagues purport¡ª

    ¡ªis hidden in Oldgrave, deep below the¡ª ¡ª ¡ªalas I can¡¯t journey to find it for¡ª

    The demon hordes took the deep woods as of writing this, if only Lord ¡ª had given me the supplies I asked for then¡ª   ¡ªWhy I bother to ¡ª

    ¡°Blah, blah, blah. A lot of this is just complaining about the state of the necromancer¡¯s nation. Interestingly enough, I think the demon hordes they are referring to here are the Inferni in the 1st reign, back when they first arrived in the mortal plane.¡±

    ¡°Ooo~,¡± Eme said. ¡°That¡¯d make this journal really old, right? I bet the government would pay a lot for it; they always snap up historical artifacts like this for their museum.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°I suppose so. Anyway, I¡¯ll keep reading, this next part is strange.¡±

    ¡ªwas fell by a great blow. Sadly Lord and Lady ¡ª fell its ¡ª. The ¡ª¡¯s bones and flesh will craft the greatest of my works! No longer will¡ª hold the¡ª it¡¯ll¡ª

    Its feathers respond well to the ¡ª treatments. Living tissue would¡¯ve ¡ª alas, I must ¡ª

    Success! Success! Success! So important to write it thrice.

    The ¡ª has risen. Once it has gestated in the blood of the ¡ª it¡¯ll be unstoppable. Who needs dragon bones any longer ¡ª ¡ªill-tempered ¡ª

    Soon it¡¯ll be my turn to rule the ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª My first act shall be to drive the hellspawns back to their cages and nail the devils to my door!

    Necro-Lord Gravis Val Treach

    ¡°Well, I guess we know who owns the tower now.¡± Autumn joked. ¡°The rest of it kinda devolves into just more mad ramblings and some rather creative vows against his enemies.¡±

    ¡°I suppose so.¡± Eme nodded, idly shifting things to the edge of the desk. ¡°I wonder what they were talking about? The greatest of their works?¡±

    Autumn cast a look around the dust-filled chamber. ¡°Clearly it didn¡¯t work out as they were expecting.¡±

    ¡°Hmm~¡± Eme hummed non-committedly.

    ¡°Have you lot found anything yet? I¡¯ve had the worst of luck!¡± Liddie called out as she marched over to them. ¡°Just dust and a desire to drink myself to sleep.¡±

    Autumn gestured to the desk. ¡°Just a bunch of notes and journals. They do have some references to the war between the Inferni and necromancers, though. So they might be worth a bit of coin.¡±

    Liddie whistled appreciatively. ¡°Nice going! You¡¯ve got some good luck. Let me borrow some, will ya?! Alright, bundle it all up somewhere dry and let''s get a move on.¡±

    With Liddie urging, Autumn carefully tucked away the legible notes into her waterproof scroll casing that currently only held her map. It was a bit of a tight fit, but she managed it in the end.

    Nothing remained of the next room, aside from a heavy smell of sulfur clinging to the stale air and a broken circular formation of blackened runes. Edwyn took one look at them and stiffened.

    ¡°Devil runes.¡±

    Liddie glanced over sharply, her eyes hardening to ice. ¡°Good thing it¡¯s broken.¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t blame the Inferni pirate for her hate. Her people had once been chattel for those rulers of the burning hells. She shuddered. While she had no clue as to what kind of place it was aside from her far-too-active imagination, she doubted it was a place of kindness and rainbows.

    ¡°Let¡¯s move!¡± Liddie barked.

    Nobody gainsaid her.

    A welcome, but concerning surprise, greeted the group as they arrived at the stairwell to the next floor. Autumn stared up the twisting stairwell, marveling at all the sprung traps and army of broken undead corpses littering its steps. The owner of this tower had clearly sought to stop something from ascending and had ultimately failed.

    ¡°I think we found out why we got no welcome party.¡± Liddie said as she stared upward beside Autumn.

    ¡°Who wants to bet that they left after they were done?¡± Autumn asked nervously.

    Nobody took her up on that bet.

    Their nerves racketed up for every step they took up that long spiral of a staircase, picking their way over walls of dismembered bodies and glancing at the sheer amount of violence cast upon the walls in long slashes. Luckily, there was a relatively clear path through the center, although in some cases the piles still towered over them.

    When they finally made it to the top and entered the third floor, they once more smelt of decay and sweat. A haunting aroma.

    A bleak throne room greeted the adventurers, its towering pillars of bone laying broken and scattered across a vast hall of rotting carpets while banners of mold and decay adorned scarred white walls. All across the vast hall lay an innumerable tide of undeath, now devoid of its unholy spark, dismembered by the same blade that¡¯d cleared the way here.

    At the far end of the hall, sitting atop a grand dais of grinning skulls, was an enormous throne of bones, formed from the bones of dragons and men.

    And a necromancer sat upon it.

    He remained deathly still as they approached, but that meant nothing here, so they readied themselves. However, as they approached the steps of the dais, it was clear he was truly dead as a large halberd lay embedded inside his chest.

    Autumn blinked, perturbed.

    Was that it? She wondered. Their journey upwards would end in an anticlimax?

    But Autumn should¡¯ve known better, for as soon as she thought that, a being rose up from where it¡¯d been kneeling, hidden by the rise of the dais.

    Feathery black wings dripped with rot and pestilence down upon a gore-marred robe that might have once been a pure white. Its waxy skin pulsed with blue veins as it stretched taut across a skeletal frame that belied a strength hidden within. The being¡¯s face hid away beneath a deep hood that only allowed a set of thin pale lips to peek through.

    The being strode languidly across the dais of skulls towards the felled necromancer and stretched out a long arm tipped in long, jagged fingernails to wrap around the haft of the halberd. It hoisted it up effortlessly, necromancer and all.

    With a silent heave, Ithuriel the Rotten flung Necro-Lord Gravis Val Treach at the adventurers, commencing the battle for their lives.

 Chapter Eighty-Two: Ithuriel the Rotten

    On dark wings the rot angel flew, swooping down to crash amongst the adventurers who¡¯d scattered away from the projectile necromancer. The long desiccated bones turned to dust as the body smashed unceremoniously onto the floor it¡¯d once lorded over.

    Ithuriel the Rotten swung their great halberd, sharper than sunlight, towards those too slow to evade their rapid approach, sucking a whistling wind behind it as it cleaved the air in twain.

    The mighty, unadorned blade collided with a thunderous strength against Nelva¡¯s shield, sending the stalwart defender sliding back across the floor with a grunt. Nelva caught herself against the scattered debris of dismembered undead, the evidence of the Angelus¡¯ martial prowess and victory over that which had brought them back unwillingly to a dreaded unlife.

    Ithuriel the Rotten rose from a crouch and took in the surrounding adventurers; it did not look impressed.

    A single heartbeat of time sang before well-traveled blades sought to swiftly bring the abomination low. Yet, they could not score a single wound as the angel deflected each with a resounding clang of metal upon metal. The halberd flowed with a grace none of them could match.

    Autumn swallowed heavily as her eyes darted about, her hand white around her wand as she searched for an opening that never appeared.

    Not content to simply defend, Ithuriel the Rotten chased after the scrambling adventurers with swift strikes that left behind long scores in the bones they passed above. Liddie desperately fell back under the relentless assault, nursing a deep cut upon her cheek. Bright blood flowing copiously down her cherry-red cheek.

    Suddenly, the angel of rot snapped their head to the side and spun, intercepting twin strikes from twin assassins. Both Nizana and Illiamtree had materialized silently and unseen behind the undead abomination, however that wasn¡¯t enough to surprise it. Their blades ineffectually skittered off the spun halberd, and they hurriedly backed off lest they lose their limbs in the arcing swipe.

    Ithuriel the Rotten came to a halt with their blade stretched out behind them, waiting.

    Through the air ripped an arc of purple; Autumn¡¯s wand arm stretched out.

    The angel lazily lent to the side, dodging the jinx before sweeping their halberd around in a low arc to catch the thrown rune hidden behind, throwing it back at Autumn. The witch squealed in surprise as the rune detonated against her instinctually raised shield, sending a wave of fire rippling across it. Behind her, Edwyn grunted in frustration.

    Ithuriel the Rotten smirked, looking at them as if to say: Is that all? Is this all you have?

    The adventurers responded with fury.

    Eme huddled behind Autumn, humming a shaky tune to herself as she tapped out a rhythm with her dragon bone fingers. She focused deeply and desperately on the sound rather than the clash of conflict resonating beyond the witch¡¯s erected defenses. The inexperienced bard drew deep from her learned magic and cast forth a rippling wave out towards the others. Those touched moved just a tad faster as they struck, a tad smoother as they barely dodged the scything blade.

    With renewed vigor and haste in his limbs, Evrard stepped up behind Nelva¡¯s shield and threatened the undead angel with jabbing spear thrusts.

    But, even with a bardic quickness bolstering him, his speed was no match for the warrior angel of old and they easily deflected his viper strikes. And only Nelva¡¯s shield prevented the spearman from losing his life as the defender intercepted the retaliatory blows that sent her skidding back once more.

    Yet, it wasn¡¯t for naught.

    Ithuriel the Rotten had no time to react as Liddie and Nizana appeared to either side of it, blades already in motion. The rot angel twisted hurriedly to avoid the blows, but the slashes still scored deep wounds in its side that oozed a blackened blood. A pair of dark wings flared in response behind the foul angel, knocking Nizana back with a yelp while the heavy tread of a decayed boot acquainted itself with Liddie¡¯s nose. With an awful, resounding crunch, the pirate was sent flying away a fair distance to crash against one of the few standing pillars, causing it to collapse in a cloud of bone dust.

    Dodging around a few hastily cast purple spells as they flew back into the air, the angel hovered up high before the group of adventurers and prepared to dive again, their weapon gleaming viciously like a grim portent in the pale lighting.

    Autumn yelped, staggering as the floor buckled under the force of the angel¡¯s ground slam. Her eyes widened in fright as the angel suddenly appeared before her, halberd already sweeping to take her legs off.

    The impossibly sharp blade cut halfway through Autumn¡¯s shield before it stopped.

    Ithuriel the Rotten looked down at the witch cowering before them, mildly impressed. It didn¡¯t stop them, however, from ripping the blade free and pressing her with further sundering strikes.

    Autumn scrambled back as the powerful blows thundered into her shield, almost knocking her off her feet as some of the force transmitted through. She tried to retaliate by hurling shards of unstable magic out at the angel, but it shrugged off the minor damage in favor of continuing its targeted assault upon her magical barrier. Cracks formed upon it faster than the witch would¡¯ve liked.

    Luckily for her, she wasn¡¯t alone.

    Nelva and Roland crashed into the angel¡¯s sides, forcing it to quickly back away from Autumn¡¯s faltering shield as they bashed the angel with their own.

    Now on the back foot, Ithuriel the Rotten kept their weapon in constant motion to deflect the plentiful blades that sought to cut them down. Each of their steps fell upon the scattered remains of the undead with pounding force, turning them to aught but dust that stifled the air. A white-gold blade snaked beside their face, cutting away at the deep hood they still wore. The angel turned to take in Liddie who grinned at them around a broken nose, blood streaming down the pirate¡¯s face.

    Feeling out of place in the current fight, Autumn took to scrambling around in the discarded arms and armor at her feet for anything she could use as disposable blades.

    Gods, how she hated undead.

    A lucky shield bash from Nelva rocked the angel¡¯s head back, stunning it long enough for Nizana and Illiamtree to appear behind it once more and slash at its ankles, driving the undead to its knees.

    ¡°Now!¡± Liddie screamed. ¡°Hit it with all you got!¡±

    As sharp blades bit deep into the undead¡¯s hide and acid conjured by a breaking rune ate away at its waxy skin and rotten cloth, Autumn flung a warbling knife into the center of the angel¡¯s chest. The magic bound into the ancient, cracked blade she¡¯d picked up from the floor couldn¡¯t last much longer out of her hand and it soon detonated inside the undead¡¯s chest, shredding it with shards of metal and a pulse of fear.

    To Autumn¡¯s surprise, the angel flinched.

    A death-scared eye rose to meet Autumn¡¯s and within it she saw fury.

    It was done playing around.

    Ithuriel the Rotten roared silently and a tidal wave of magical dread washed over them all with a physical force, casting them back like ships in a maelstrom. Fear coiled in Autumn¡¯s veins like eddies in a river as she stared at the angel rising back up, looking unharmed by their blows.

    Nelva struggled to rise, a mountain pressing down upon her. Her eyes flickered up to the angel standing unexpectedly before her and quickly raised her shield up high above her head to block the descending strike. The halberd tore into the bone and wood shield, carving it in two. Nelva lashed out with an iron blade, seeking to take the undead in the gut, but let out a scream instead when a steel grip broke her hand and wrenched her blade from her.

    Autumn watched on in horror as the foul angel drove the blade through Nelva¡¯s gut, pinning her to the floor below like a moth on a corkboard.

    ¡°NOOO!!!¡± Autumn screamed and unleashed her own tidal wave of dread upon the dark angel standing over her fallen friend and teammate. Rather than a spell, what issued forth from her shaking wand was a pure stream of magic; a cavalcade of raw emotion fused into a pulsing purple lightning bolt that crashed into a hastily raised halberd.

    Unwilling to relent even as her wand broke apart and her magical channels burned, Autumn instead poured more magic into her attack, forcing the angel to take a step back.

    And then the Kraken¡¯s Bane cutlass took off a wing.

    Ithuriel the Rotten stumbled forward before twisting around to both cut Liddie in half and redirect Autumn¡¯s magical lightning away. However, the pirate could easily dance out of range of such a wild strike and Autumn¡¯s wand simply exploded in her hand, cutting off the stream of magic before it could do any other harm.

    Autumn panted as she clutched at her aching arm.

    For a tense moment, the undead stood stock still, a cold fury palpable in its skeletal form. Slowly, it reached up to the shredded hood obscuring its face and grasped it with a long, cracked-nail hand before tearing the cloth free. Nailed into the angel¡¯s bleeding skull amongst thin wispy hair and rotten skin was a wicked crown of black-iron that blazed with unholy devilish runes. Caged within that gruesome crown was a corrupted halo that now burned with a black flame.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    A pair of glassy eyes bore into Autumn, one of which glowed with haunting undeath.

    And as Ithuriel the Rotten strode forth towards them, an aura of dread rolled off of them like waves.

    Roland turned to flee.

    Before he¡¯d even taken more than a single step, the rot angel appeared behind him and its grim halberd flashed by. The Lepus defender tried to take a few more unsteady steps away before he even realized he was dead and, like a puppet with its strings cut, he crumpled, cut in twain. Guts steamed as they spilled onto the dusty floor.

    ¡°Fuck! Keep in formation!¡± Liddie called out as she rushed to engage the angel. ¡°Don¡¯t turn your back on it!¡±

    Autumn turned to those huddling behind her. ¡°Eme, Edwyn. Follow me! We need to get to Nelva!¡±

    Dodging around the ongoing fight, the trio rushed over to where Nelva had fallen. Upon arriving, Autumn fell to her knees to assess the damage. The rabbit-woman was barely clinging to awareness, coughing up blood as she futilely tried to free herself from the blade pinning her.

    ¡°De-Delay Death!¡± Autumn cried out as she lay her hands on Nelva, desperately trying to quell her bloodloss.

    Thankfully, the magic took.

    Autumn turned to Eme and Edwyn as the sounds of combat roared behind them. ¡°Do either of you have any healing?! W-we need to get that blade out of her, but she¡¯ll bleed out once the spell wears off if we do.¡±

    ¡°Nay.¡± Edwyn spoke as they fumbled with their beard, pulling free hairs alongside the runes they were preparing. ¡°I ain¡¯t got nothing like that. I¡¯ve one fire rune left, if¡¯n yer desperate.¡±

    Eme too shook her head. ¡°I-I can only do a-a small haste one on my own, like before. M-most of my st-stuff is for group work. Sorry.¡±

    Autumn despaired as she chewed her lip, before a thought flashed through her mind. Quickly, she hauled her pack off and pawed through it to find the crimson potion they¡¯d found. Holding it carefully in the light, it looked like either salvation or a curse to her.

    ¡°What are you doing, lassie?¡± Edwyn grasped her arm. ¡°We¡¯ve no idea what that¡¯ll do to someone.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll die if we don¡¯t do something,¡± Autumn¡¯s lip quivered, ¡°and it looks like a healing potion, doesn¡¯t it?¡±

    Eme couldn¡¯t meet her eyes as Autumn looked at them both pleadingly.

    However, before either of them could say more, frantic yelling drew their attention back to the combat. Autumn¡¯s breath stalled in her throat as she looked over. Ithuriel the Rotten held Illiamtree up by the neck, squeezing the life from him as he desperately stabbed at its arm with his curved daggers. The others were too far away to free him, having been driven back by a feint. The Umbra Elf sundered the angel¡¯s arm again and again, but with a horrific crack, he went limp as the angel broke his neck.

    The adventurers cried out, but could not mourn for long as the angel of rot flung their dead compatriot at them, forcing them to dodge or be cut down as they caught him.

    Illiamtree rolled across the ground until he lay staring blankly, his neck at an odd angle.

    Autumn shuddered and turned back to Nelva. However, before she could uncork the vial, a trembling hand stopped her. Nelva glanced up at her, speaking through bloody lips between coughs.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. I¡¯ll be fine. Go help the others or it won¡¯t matter.¡±

    Although she hesitated, Autumn relented in the end. She turned to Eme. ¡°Can you cast that haste spell again?¡±

    ¡°Well, i-it¡¯s not really haste¡ªI mean yes I can!¡± Eme said nervously.

    ¡°Good. Edwyn, what do you have that¡¯s useful?¡±

    ¡°Useful? I''ve got a fire blast, a couple of air bursts, one plant growth, and a single explosive rune.¡± Edwyn rattled off, touching the runes they said.

    ¡°Alright, here''s the plan. I¡¯ll serve as a defender seeing as it can¡¯t get all the way through my shield. Eme you cast that quickness song, but otherwise watch over Nelva. Edwyn, you use that explosive when there¡¯s an opening. Do try not to miss¡­or blow us all up.¡± Autumn smiled weakly.

    After tapping Nelva with another casting of Delay Death, Autumn bolted from cover and rushed back into the fray, Eme¡¯s song hot on her heels. It swiftly washed over the group and they moved just a little faster.

    Still, it wasn¡¯t enough.

    Being pressured from all sides, Ithuriel the Rotten flashed their halberd around themselves in a blindingly fast sweep along the ground. And as the adventurers either scrambled back or jumped to avoid it, Evrard stumbled, their wounds acting up at an inopportune time. Lying on the ground, he stared confused down along his body to his legs, which were no longer attached. An undead boot cut his contemplations short as it splattered his brains all across the floor.

    Autumn drew all her fear inward, refusing to bow to it.

    Although she did flinch as her shield screamed when she parried away the halberd strike aiming for her head. The undead narrowed its eyes at her. She grinned back, her Dread Blade shining darkly in her hand.

    Autumn lunged towards the undead, aiming to take its glowing eye out, but had to swiftly pull back with a hiss as a blur of metal tried to take her hand off. Serving as the rather unconventional role of a mage shielder, Autumn kept the angel¡¯s aggression on her as the others nipped at its heels.

    An exceptionally forceful blow cracked down upon Autumn¡¯s shield and sent her to her knees with a grunt, giving the undead angel just enough time to lash out at Liddie and Nizana simultaneously. Liddie ducked below a jabbing strike that cut off the tip of a horn while Nizana got the pleasure of a boot to her chest that sent her now flying into a pillar.

    The angel turned back to Autumn and rained blow after blow rained down upon her shield in an instant until its halberd broke through and pierced into her shoulder, forcing a pained scream to rip free from the witch¡¯s throat.

    The undead seemed to take a vindictive pleasure in twisting the blade.

    ¡°Get the fuck off her!!!¡±

    A flying catgirl screamed through the air to slam down upon the angel''s back and with a furious snarl, she reached around with her dragon bone arm and tore its throat out.

    Ithuriel the Rotten only blinked once in confusion before they ripped Eme from their back to hold her aloft by the throat as it had Illiamtree. Autumn¡¯s own throat seized up at the sight. She could see nothing else as the edge of her vision grew dark. Eme struggled and kicked even as she snarled in the angel¡¯s face, her own turning purple and the blood vessels in her eyes bursting.

    Autumn struggled to her knees, ripping free of the halberd¡¯s blade. She poured her everything into the Dread Knife and jumped.

    Eme tumbled down to the ground, desperately coughing.

    Once more, Ithuriel the Rotten just blinked in confusion as it stared at the stump where its hand should be.

    ¡°Edwyn, Now!!¡± Autumn screamed as she dived atop Eme.

    A booming explosion rocked the chamber, sending the nearest sections of necromantic masonry crumbling down. Intense heat bloomed across Autumn¡¯s back and she grit her teeth in pain even as her fracturing shield held firm. Her magical channels pulsed with a familiar pain. A warning. Even so she forced her body to move and dragged a coughing Eme away to safety.

    Silence lingered after the explosion as everybody held their breath, waiting for the smoke and dust to clear.

    Only Liddie, Nizana, and Edwyn were left standing.

    Slowly, the dust settled back down to reveal that Ithuriel the Rotten still stood, only now clad in ruined robes and ruined flesh. Devil runes shone bright red, carved into the very bones of the angel before them, casting an unwanted, sickening light over the hall.

    Autumn gulped.

    Liddie and Nizana moved.

    Looking over her shoulder, Liddie yelled towards Edwyn. ¡°Get us another explosion or something! We¡¯ll buy you some time!¡±

    Edwyn swore as they hurriedly started altering and combining their runes.

    ¡°Eme? Are you ok?¡± Autumn whispered as she huddled behind a fallen pillar with the catgirl.

    Eme coughed, slightly smiling. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m peachy.¡±

    ¡°What were you thinking?!¡± Autumn hissed. ¡°Didn¡¯t I say to stay with Nelva?¡±

    Eme stared at her defiantly. ¡°You needed help, so I helped. I won¡¯t run anymore.¡±

    Autumn huffed, wincing as she put pressure on her wounded shoulder. Placing her forehead to Eme she whispered. ¡°Thank you, but I need you to go back to Nelva and make sure she doesn¡¯t die, yeah?¡±

    Eme closed her eyes, breathing in the witch¡¯s scent. ¡°Yeah. Ok, I¡¯ll do that. Don¡¯t die or I¡¯ll find a way to bring you back and kill you myself!¡±

    Autumn chuckled.

    The pair split up with Eme sneaking over to where she¡¯d left Nelva while Autumn took in the situation.

    Even one armed and blown to hell and back, the undead angel was still dominating the fight, forcing Liddie and Nizana to keep on their toes lest they lose them. In the short time they¡¯d danced the dance with death, fresh wounds appeared across their bodies, soaking their garments in blood and threatening to slow them. Only Eme¡¯s soft music lingering upon them kept them moving quickly.

    Seeing their continued defiance and Autumn¡¯s rapid approach, the undead angel flared its aura of dread, halting the pair momentarily.

    Wary of the mithril blade, the angel struck Liddie first.

    The halberd shrieked as the white-gold blade deflected off of it, forcing the pirate¡¯s guard wide open. In a sweeping flourish, Ithuriel the Rotten brought the haft of the halberd around and broke Liddie¡¯s wrist. She gasped in pain as her blade clattered to the floor. But that was all she could do as a back kick suddenly thundered into her chest, sending her flying once more to crash into a pillar of bone.

    Liddie slumped unconscious to the floor.

    Barely a second had passed in the exchange before the angel was back before Nizana. She tried to move, to dodge, but she was too slow.

    The halberd blade drove right into her heart.

    Excruciatingly slowly, Ithuriel the Rotten brought the Umbra Elven assassin up to revel in her death. Blood dripped down Nizana¡¯s mouth as she smiled and stabbed the angel in the eye.

    The first sound Autumn heard the angel make was a roar.

    Gone was the flickering blue in its eye, replaced by a wicked knife. Blinded, it flung Nizana¡¯s corpse out wide and swung the halberd relentlessly trying to cut the approaching witch down. But Autumn moved quietly, stalking the undead as her hand wrapped around the hilt of a white-gold blade.

    Calming itself, the angel waited like a statue, listening for the sound of footsteps. Yet what it caught was the sound of something whistling through the air towards it. Spinning towards the sound, it cut with expert precision.

    And the split rune detonated in a blast of wind that knocked the halberd aside.

    Roaring, Autumn rushed the angel of rot. She slipped easily into its guard and readied her swing just as a thick wave of dread radiated out as Ithuriel the Rotten sought to halt the witch in place.

    Autumn swung anyway.

    The halberd clattered to the ground, still clutched by a severed arm, the angel having been literally disarmed.

    Autumn swung again.

    Panting, Autumn stared at the angel frozen in place. Its pale lips parted and a breathless whisper coiled around Autumn.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Ithuriel the Rotten¡¯s head rolled off onto the floor and its body soon followed. Autumn stared down silently at the dead undead angel and her own pale lips parted.

    ¡°Go fuck yourself.¡±

 Chapter Eighty-Three: Itâ€™s a Stitch-up

    In a silent throne room, a witch defied death to save her friend.

    Autumn knelt beside Nelva with her blood-slicked hands pressed into the chevalier¡¯s side, heart pounding with yet-to-fade adrenaline. Violet magic pulsed in tune with her heartbeat as it surged down her hands and into Nelva¡¯s body, seeking to quell the other¡¯s bleeding. And when it finally snapped into place and halted the flow, Autumn rocked back on her heels with a heavy sigh and sweat on her brow.

    Nelva groaned in pain, the sensation of a sword through her gut not dulled in the slightest. She felt like a bug pinned to a board by some cruel collector.

    Autumn hadn¡¯t removed the iron blade as she feared unduly aggravating the wound before they¡¯d the means to close it. Not only that, but the force of the blow had sucked shattered bone armor and silk behind the blade. So, even if they had a grand healing potion in their possession, they¡¯d still have to clean the wound before applying it, lest the magical healing seal the contaminants inside her.

    ¡°Where are you feeling pain?¡± Autumn asked as she wrapped her spare shirt around the sword blade, pressing the cloth gently into the wound to stem any further bleeding.

    ¡°In my stomach.¡± Nelva joked, although she regretted laughing as it swiftly turned to pained coughing.

    ¡°You still have your humor, I see. That¡¯s good.¡± Autumn smiled weakly. ¡°I need to know what the blade cut through. Can you wiggle your toes for me? Does it feel like the blade hit your spine? I can¡¯t tell from this angle.¡±

    Nelva¡¯s pale face screwed up as she concentrated on moving her toes and, ever so slightly, her boots moved as she grunted in pain. She sighed in relief. ¡°Yeah, I can move them.¡±

    ¡°Good, good. Do you think you can hang on for a moment as I check on Liddie?¡± Autumn asked as she anxiously looked over at the pirate slumped against a pillar.

    ¡°Y-yeah. I¡¯ll just sit right here,¡± Nelva chuckled before hissing in pain.

    Autumn turned to Eme, who was loitering behind her. While she really wanted to give the catgirl a once over as her eyes were disturbingly bloodshot, she had to prioritize right now. She needed to go into a triage mode.

    ¡°Eme, look after Nelva for me. If her wound starts bleeding again, press down on it and call me back. I need to go check on Liddie.¡±

    ¡°What about you? You got stabbed, remember?¡± Eme pointed out the wound in Autumn¡¯s shoulder.

    Autumn rolled her shoulder slightly, only to wince in pain as her shirt pulled at the clotted blood. ¡°I¡¯m fine. It¡¯s just a flesh wound.¡±

    ¡°How is that a flesh wound?!¡± Eme growled.

    ¡°I¡¯ll deal with it later. For now we need to save Nelva. Can you do that for me?¡±

    Eme nodded reluctantly before kneeling down next to Nelva. ¡°Go, you can count on me!¡±

    Turning away from the pair, Autumn rushed promptly over to where the pirate lay slumped against a broken pillar. Edwyn was already there by her side, carefully checking Liddie over. As soon as she arrived panting, Autumn fell to her knees and instinctively laid her hands upon the Inferni woman and pulsed a casting of Delay Death into her.

    An action that proved unnecessary despite her worry.

    Edwyn chuckled. ¡°She¡¯ll be awright; got a head ¡®arder than any pillar. She¡¯s juist napping it off.¡±

    ¡°Nothing broken? Are we able to move her?¡± Autumn asked in a rush, relief pouring through her.

    ¡°Juist a broken nose ¡®n¡¯ wrist. I¡¯ve awready checked over her neck ¡®n¡¯ back, but other than some mighty bruises, nothing feels broken. We¡¯ll be all gentle-like movin¡¯ her either way. Other than that, there is her horn.¡± Edwyn gestured to the tip missing from one of the Inferni¡¯s inch-long horns. ¡°Let me tell her when she wakes; I¡¯ll break it tae her gently.¡±

    Autumn just absentmindedly nodded, her mind preoccupied with more immediate concerns.

    ¡°Did any of the others survive?¡± Autumn asked, looking over the carnage.

    Edwyn shook their head sadly. ¡°Doesn¡¯t look like it.¡±

    Autumn spared a brief glance over each of her fallen allies, just to make sure that none still lived. Certain ones needed much less checking, as their guts or brains stained the dusty floor. However, Autumn spared a second longer to thank Nizana, the assassin still smiling even in death.

    After double checking on Nelva¡¯s state, Autumn and Edwyn carefully carried the unconscious Liddie back over to the others and settled her upon a bedroll that Eme had hastily unrolled.

    Eme milled around anxiously. ¡°Will she be alright?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Just need to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn¡¯t swallow her tongue.¡± Autumn reassured her. ¡°More importantly, we need to save Nelva. Are you sure nobody has a healing potion? Did you check their bags?¡±

    Eme looked shocked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that dishonorable? Aren¡¯t we meant to return their gear to their party or family?¡±

    Turning from where she was rifling through her own bag for her sewing kit, Autumn gave Eme a hard look. ¡°Not when it means losing someone.¡±

    ¡°Aye, Autumn has the right of it.¡± Edwyn nodded. ¡°Come on, lassie. Let¡¯s go see if we can find anythin¡¯ that the others were hidin¡¯ away.¡±

    Autumn popped her head back up as a thought crossed her mind. She called out to the pair as they were walking away. ¡°Be careful of the assassin¡¯s gear; it¡¯s likely they had traps or poison on them.¡±

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Edwyn waved to her in acknowledgement without turning back.

    Autumn¡¯s expression turned grim as she looked down at her hands, coated as they were in blood. She wanted them as clean as possible before she even attempted to sew the stricken rabbit-kin up, as the last thing they needed right now was an infection. Luckily, she had a solution right below her. Autumn flinched as she plunged her hands into the icy black waters of her shadow.

    A pale Nelva raised her head up to look askance at her as she did so. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s clean?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve been drinking it, haven¡¯t we? Clear alcohol would be better, but I doubt we¡¯ll find anything around here.¡±

    The pair¡¯s eyes naturally drifted over to Liddie¡¯s pack.

    ¡°You don¡¯t think¡­?¡± Nelva asked.

    Autumn shrugged slightly, careful not to pull too much on her wound. ¡°Only one way to find out.¡±

    Shifting over to the unconscious pirate¡¯s gear, Autumn rifled through her belongings and shook the bottles she found within. All but one was empty.

    Nelva coughed as she chuckled. ¡°That bitch was holding out on us.¡±

    ¡°I suppose it¡¯s a good thing she did.¡± Autumn said as she cleaned off her hands and tools with the alcohol.

    Nelva looked pained at the loss. ¡°Hey, give me some. I¡¯m the one dying here, haha¨Cow.¡±

    Autumn denied her. ¡°No, we need it to sterilize and clean your wounds.¡±

    Slumping back down with a groan, Nelva stared blankly up at the bone ceiling high above. ¡°Hey, Autumn, can you promise me something? If I die¡ªno, don¡¯t interrupt me¡ªif I die, please burn my body. I know it¡¯s not what my people would want for me, but I don¡¯t want to come back as a zombie or something worse.¡± She swallowed heavily. ¡°If-if my ex-fianc¨¦ finds me¡­I don¡¯t know if you can turn the dead into a vampire, but I don¡¯t want to come back like that.¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey, hey. Don¡¯t talk like that. You¡¯re not dying here, not if I can help it. When you¡¯re all better, we can go vampire hunting whenever you want. It¡¯ll be a walk in the park for us,¡± Autumn reassured Nelva as calmly as she could.

    Nelva¡¯s eyes burned into Autumn¡¯s dark orbs. ¡°Promise me.¡± She pleaded. ¡°Please.¡±

    ¡°...I promise.¡±

    The tension drained out of Nelva and she turned her gaze back up. However, Autumn wasn¡¯t done.

    ¡°But, and I¡¯ll say this as nicely as I can, you can stuff it up your ass. You are not dying here.¡±

    Nelva chuckled before groaning in pain. ¡°Stop making me laugh; it hurts.¡±

    Rolling her eyes, Autumn hovered the bottle of mosswine above the Lepus¡¯ bloody lips, careful not to contaminate the only alcohol they had. ¡°Fine. Here, have some, but only a sip.¡±

    Nelva gratefully swallowed the liquid, only coughing slightly as it burned going down. Her face screwed up as the flavor of sugar and wet moss coated her tongue. ¡°Urgh, it still tastes like licking soil. Fuck, it¡¯s the best thing I tasted in so long.¡±

    Autumn chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s a good thing you like it as Liddie brought about 130 crates worth of the stuff to take back with us.¡±

    Nelva started. ¡°That much?! Where did she get the cash for that?¡±

    ¡°Me.¡± Autumn gave her a deadpan look. ¡°She roped me into springing for half of it.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like her.¡± Edwyn grunted as they returned, an empty potion vial in hand. In the bottom of the glass swirled a miniscule amount of red liquid. Autumn took it from them carefully. ¡°That''s all we could find. I hope it¡¯s enough.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll have to be. Alright, let¡¯s get to it. No sense in delaying things anymore.¡± Autumn turned her eyes back up to Edwyn and Eme. ¡°First, we need to unpin Nelva from the floor without shifting the blade around too much, as we can¡¯t risk widening the wound with only a dreg of healing potion left.¡±

    Together, the three of them worked to pry the blade gently from the bone floor without removing it fully from Nelva. The stalwart defender screamed as she bit into a piece of leather. Thankfully, the iron blade wasn¡¯t firmly stuck in place. And as it eventually pulled free, Autumn rolled Nelva onto her side to access the exit wound.

    Autumn gave Nelva another drink for the pain.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but we need to cut away your armor.¡±

    ¡°Just do it.¡± Nelva croaked out. ¡°I¡¯ll buy ten more that are far better later.¡±

    Swiftly and with surety in her hands, Autumn cut away the leather straps that held the broken armor still to her friend¡¯s form until she could gently remove it. Opening up the gambeson doublet beneath with her knife, Autumn now got a good look at the wound. Much to her relief, Nelva¡¯s meticulously sharpened blade had left behind a clean entry as it sliced through her.

    ¡°There, that''s not so bad. You good there, Nelva?¡±

    ¡°Just get on with it please.¡± Nelva groaned around the leather as she held Edwyn¡¯s thick hand in a white-knuckled grip. The Manus didn¡¯t complain as they helped hold her down.

    ¡°Ok.¡± Autumn breathed. ¡°Eme, I want you to help me. I need you to hand me things I ask for. Make sure you clean your hands first.¡± She got a nervous nod in reply.

    Autumn shoved all her fear into the deepest, darkest corner of her hat, leaving her with rock-steady hands. ¡°I¡¯ll remove the blade on three. One, two¡ª¡± She pulled the blade free in one clean pull.

    Nelva screamed.

    Not wasting any time, Autumn examined Nelva¡¯s wound.

    While the blade had missed her spine, it¡¯d cut straight through her lower intestines. Autumn plunged her slim fingers into the wound and pinched together the severed sections even as Nelva thrashed, only held down by Edwyn¡¯s iron grip. Using a sterilized needle and thread, she stitched the pieces together temporarily before taking the healing potion from Eme¡¯s hands. With steady hands, Autumn measured out each drop until she was happy that the severed intestines would hold before removing her stitches.

    Autumn glanced apologetically towards Nelva. ¡°Sorry, but this¡¯ll hurt alot.¡±

    Nevla rolled her eyes towards Autumn, her brow sweat-laden. ¡°And that didn¡¯t¡ªArgggh!!!¡± Nevla screamed as Autumn lightly splashed alcohol in her wound.

    There was little else Autumn could do to remove what''d leaked from the Lepus¡¯ guts into her stomach cavity, but she tried her best. Alcohol-soaked bandages soon turned red with gore as she cleaned out the wound, picking out the pieces of shattered armor to the sound of Nelva¡¯s swearing screams. Finally content that she''d gotten everything, Autumn quickly stitched up the entry and exit wounds and used the last of the potion to make sure it held.

    Autumn rocked back on her heels as soon as she finished. She cast a mildly amused look over Nelva as the chevalier chose now to pass out.

    ¡°Will she be alright?¡± Eme asked anxiously.

    Autumn sighed heavily. ¡°Yeah, my spell isn¡¯t working anymore, so she¡¯s out of the woods, so to speak. Now it¡¯s on her to pull through. I just wish we had some antibiotics or something for her. All I¡¯ve got left is a bit of healing cream, but that¡¯s only surface-level stuff.¡±

    Eme looked at Autumn with sparkling eyes. ¡°That was amazing! How¡¯d you learn to do that?¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not the first time I¡¯ve been wrist-deep in a girl¡¯s guts before.¡± The witch paused as her words caught up to her. Turning to Eme, she flushed bright red in sync with the catgirl.

    ¡°Umm, t-that¡¯s not what I¡­I mean¡­forget I said anything. I should go help Edwyn; I think they said Liddie broke her wrist or something!¡±

    ¡°Not so fast!¡± Eme halted Autumn. ¡°Fix your own injury first, idiot.¡±

    Autumn grimaced at the reminder. She¡¯d been trying to block out the pain. She huffed. ¡°Alright. Help me get my robe off. Damn chainmail did jack shit.¡±

    Eme giggled. ¡°Maybe it did; you still have an arm, at least.¡±

    ¡°Ah shit, I didn¡¯t mean¡ª¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Eme waved Autumn off. ¡°I can joke about it if I want. Now, teach me how to sew you up; it¡¯ll be easier if I do it.¡±

 Chapter Eighty-Four: To the Victors goes the Spoils

    Autumn stood over the decayed body of Ithuriel the Rotten, letting her dark eyes roam over the corrupted angel¡¯s broken form. Red devilish runes still burned across emaciated flesh while a sable-flamed halo of dread flickered within the cruel cage of black-iron. Even as sundered as it was, a fallen Seraphim, an Angelus, would provide potent materials for a necromancer¡¯s craft.

    Or in the making of a fantastically powerful wand.

    Kneeling down, Autumn examined the crown nailed to the angel¡¯s skull. The black-iron was held fast in place, but she didn¡¯t need to remove it to harvest the dark angel¡¯s halo, for it¡¯d chosen dread as its weapon in its unlife.

    Hot sweat accumulated across Autumn¡¯s brow as she corralled the halo from its grim cradle. As it came free, the flickering nimbus grew unstable, but Autumn simply focused and cowed the fearful thing into a glass bottle she had on hand.

    With a sigh, the witch stoppered the bottle and held it up to her eye. ¡°Well, it¡¯s no lightning, but I¡¯ll take it.¡±

    As she didn¡¯t feel comfortable harvesting the bones carved with evil runes from the angel, Autumn instead opted to investigate its dark wings. Rot and blight had scoured them, leaving little for the witch to collect, but she still could pluck a handful of uncorrupted jet feathers free for her use. Four soft feathers now lay softly clutched in her fingers.

    Autumn looked over the broken angel one last time before shifting her gaze over to the scattered form of the ancient necromancer.

    She wondered to herself whether the nation of necromancers still lived in exile somewhere. Nelva had told her that the ancient Inferni had driven them across the northern sea and into a frozen wasteland that, given their relative position in the world, was likely in this world¡¯s arctic circle. However, if there was anyone she¡¯d bet on surviving where few others could, it¡¯d be those who didn¡¯t fear death.

    And if they ever returned, this place would fuel their armies for a long time to come. It¡¯d be a vast arsenal that¡¯d drown the empire in blood and undeath.

    So it¡¯d be better for everyone if this place was gone for good.

    While it¡¯d suck to lose the vast wealth of dragon bones, Autumn hardly wanted to see those skeletons flying over Duskfields because of her greed. Of course, that plan relied on her figuring out how to blow the place up without killing herself in the process.

    As Autumn pondered over that particular wrinkle in her plan, she made a note to herself to return to the laboratory below to steal both the massive alchemy still for Pyre and the black cauldron for herself.

    A witch deserved a proper cauldron, after all.

    ¡°Double, double, toil and trouble;

    Fire burn and cauldron bubble.

    Double, double, toil and trouble;

    Something wicked this way comes.¡±

    ¡°I hope you¡¯re not talking about me?¡± Eme asked as she arrived beside Autumn¡¯s elbow, having just overheard the witch¡¯s quiet singing.

    Jolting at being caught, Autumn blushed. ¡°No, no,¡± she hurriedly reassured the catgirl. ¡°It¡¯s just a witch song from back home.¡±

    ¡°Ohhh, I see~¡± Eme winked, which just caused Autumn to sigh.

    Hoping to ignore Eme¡¯s misunderstanding lest she die of embarrassment, Autumn turned her attention to the angel¡¯s halberd laying at her feet, still clutched by a severed arm. Despite going toe to toe with a mithril blade, there was nary a scratch upon the unadorned weapon. Autumn concentrated her senses upon the halberd, attempting to detect any enchantments it might hold to give it such resilience and sharpness, and as she expected, it glowed with magic before her darkened eyes.

    It was the first magical weapon she¡¯d seen and likely not the last.

    After blinking away the darkness in her eyes, Autumn turned to Eme. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s cursed?¡±

    Eme nodded. ¡°It¡¯s got good odds.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Do you think it¡¯s a named weapon liked Liddie¡¯s blade? Hers isn¡¯t even enchanted; this one is. I¡¯m thinking Moonlit edge? Or Windcarver? Foe-sunderer?¡±

    Eme shook her head. ¡°Nah, it¡¯s an Angelus¡¯ weapon, so it probably is just named halberd of so&so, or so&so¡¯s halberd, or has some really pretentious name like Blade of all things Good, or Edge of Sanctuary¡¯s Trust.¡±

    Autumn snorted. ¡°Those are terrible names. I hope it¡¯s not like that.¡±

    Giggling to herself, Eme spouted more awful names for the weapon as they made their way over to the necromancer¡¯s corpse. Stopping just before the dead, undead lord, they scoured the remains with keen eyes.

    Thanks to being tossed unceremoniously by the angel, the body was naught but splintered bones and dust wrapped in torn robes. However, there were still some items buried amongst the bone dust that drew the pair¡¯s attention, namely a crown, a ring, and the damaged robes themselves.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s definitely cursed.¡± Autumn said, as she used her knife to fish the crown out of the dust.

    What she held up before them was little more than a circular band of razor-sharp black-iron spikes, jutting both upward and downwards. Stretched between the spires like gruesome sails were sections of flayed skin. Clearly, this crown wasn¡¯t to be worn by someone whom still possessed their skin and flesh, either that or they were an extreme masochist.

    After carefully placing it to the side to be packed up later, Autumn turned her attention back to the rest of the loot.

    ¡°Now, what do we have here?¡±

    Using the tip of her knife, Autumn pulled the ring free of the dust and examined it. It was a rather simple ring adorned with a single large black sapphire. While it didn¡¯t look all that impressive, its magical aura didn¡¯t escape the witch¡¯s notice, even if she had no clue as to its purpose.

    Placing it aside, she turned back to the last item to loot; the robes themselves. They were of an ostentatious make, being hooded black robes trimmed in intricate deathly patterns with actual threads of gold. They¡¯d evidently been a powerful enchanted item once as a necro-lord had chosen to wear them to confront the angel, even if he¡¯d died in them. However, with the halberd having been driven right through both the front and back of it and then having languished here for over two-thousand years, they barely still clung to their enchantments.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    ¡°Perhaps someone back at Duskfields could fix it?¡± Eme offered.

    Autumn hummed. ¡°Maybe, but does it matter? They¡¯re obviously necromantic in nature, which is illegal, right?¡±

    ¡°Enchanters can still buy them if they have a license. You know, to investigate them and learn how to make or unmake them.¡± Eme said unconcerned. ¡°Either way, it¡¯s something we can hand in to the convoy for some goodwill. We can¡¯t just bring back bad news.¡± She nodded to the dead.

    ¡°Right. Well, come on then. Let¡¯s wrap these up in cloth or something and poke around for a bit.¡± Autumn gestured around the hall as she stood up. ¡°Judging by the size of the tower from the outside, there has to be another floor. We should find it before the others wake up. Find it, not enter it.¡± She stressed.

    The pair idly poked around the hall, searching for a passageway hidden behind banners or tapestries. However, it wasn¡¯t until they scoured the back of the throne ontop of the dais that they found it.

    ¡°Aw. It¡¯s not even that well hidden.¡± Eme pouted.

    Embedded into the bone wall was a thick-looking black-iron door, but that wasn¡¯t what caught Autumn¡¯s attention the most; that honor she gave to the pair of skeletal knights, each twice her height bordering it. Thankfully, whatever enchantment they¡¯d held had dissipated after the necromancer¡¯s death and now they were nothing more than elaborate decorations.

    Still, she wasn¡¯t going near them till the team was ready.

    ¡°Ok, enough exploring.¡± Autumn said to Eme. ¡°How about we go back and deal with the bodies? Wrap them up in some of these banners or something? Are you good with that?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, let¡¯s.¡± Eme nodded. ¡°And you don¡¯t need to treat me with soft paws; I¡¯ve seen more than enough bodies by now. More than any adventurer would in their entire career, I¡¯ll bet.¡±

    Autumn nodded in commiseration, remembering how the bodies outside had congealed into actual terrain. The pair shivered.

    ¡°They¡¯re still people we knew, even if we didn¡¯t like some of them. It¡¯s always hard to say goodbye.¡±

    Eme swallowed heavily at her words. ¡°Yeah, I know.¡±

    Time went by at a slow crawl as the pair, soon joined by Edwyn, set about gathering up enough usable banners from around the hall to wrap up the fallen in their death shrouds, making sure to collect all the pieces into the right bundles. Autumn held a silent vigil for the fallen as she couldn¡¯t find the words within herself. Not that the others minded.

    After checking up on everyone¡¯s injuries, including her own, and quickly jotting down some medical notes about the wounds, Autumn found herself a spare bedroll now that they had extra and settled down for a quick nap upon the first clean place she found.

    Sleep found her so speedily that her dreams got whiplash.

    However, she only got about an hour of sleep before a frustrated yell ripped her from her peaceful slumber. Autumn bolted up from her bedroll in a frenzy, heart pounding as she searched for what made the sound. Her eyes quickly landed on a now awake Liddie, who was staring despondently at a small hand mirror and feeling at her cut horn.

    Idly, she noticed Eme spring up from where she¡¯d fallen asleep at Autumn¡¯s side, looking like she was ready to fight to the death.

    Grumbling under her breath over her ruined sleep, Autumn gamely wandered over to the pirate with a catgirl trailing in her wake. Upon her arrival, Liddie cast a stricken look her way.

    ¡°How noticeable is it?¡± she gestured to her horn.

    Autumn contemplated lying, but decided that ripping the bandage off now was better for the pirate¡¯s confidence. Also, she was still annoyed with her for waking her up.

    ¡°Very.¡±

    Liddie slumped in place, frustrated tears gathering in her eyes. Seeing how upset the Inferni woman was over the injury, and the stink-eye Edwyn was given her, Autumn reluctantly continued.

    ¡°However, it gives you a sort of lopsided, handsome charm to add to your mysterious, roguish vibe you got going on.¡± Autumn paused. ¡°Is this helping?¡± she asked.

    Liddie snorted, but she was looking mollified. ¡°You know little about Inferni, don¡¯t you? Well, here¡¯s a little cultural lesson for you; our horns are a symbol of our virility, our bedroom stamina to put it bluntly. And, like all things sexual in nature; bigger is seen as better.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s gaze flickered between the small inch long horns atop the pirate¡¯s head to the almost flat chest she sported before trailing down to the compact hips lying below. The only thing she had going for her was her height, but even then that was relative, as she¡¯d found most Inferni to be taller.

    Liddie flushed. ¡°You don¡¯t have to be so obvious with your pity! I¡¯m plenty experienced in satisfying others!¡±

    Behind her, Autumn heard laughter choking off as Eme tried to keep quiet. A flush crept up the catgirl¡¯s face as they looked at her. Autumn turned back to Liddie as an idle thought crossed her mind.

    ¡°Oh, I guess that explains why people keep looking at Nethlia¡¯s horns so much, I just thought they were surprised by her height.¡±

    Liddie snorted. ¡°That berserker is the epitome of bigger is better. I mean, come on!! Share a little! She¡¯s got the height and the muscles, not to mention big breasts, butt, and horns.¡± She shook a fist at an imaginary Nethlia.

    ¡°Nethlia huh?¡± Eme muttered behind Autumn.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the size of Nethlia¡¯s horns truly represented her virility. With the size of them¡­. Autumn bit her lip. Hastily, she shook off her wandering thoughts and wisely changed the conversation, not really wanting to go into that kind of talk with Eme listening in. Given their history, it¡¯d be far too awkward.

    ¡°You know what¡¯ll cheer you up? Looting. Eme and I found the entry to the next floor. I bet there¡¯ll be a lot of loot up there.¡±

    Liddie perked up. ¡°Hmm, I do love looting. You haven¡¯t touched anything yet, have you? Do I need to remind you of rule one?¡±

    ¡°No, no. We¡¯ve been careful. Currently, we¡¯ve recovered and bundled up,¡± Autumn pulled out her notebook, ¡°one enchanted halberd, one enchanted crown, one enchanted ring, and one damaged enchanted robe.¡±

    Liddie rubbed her hands together. ¡°Good, good. Too bad about that robe, and the fact most of it belonged to a necromancer, but still a good haul. Now let us see about that door.¡± She turned to Eme. ¡°Do you mind taking over for Edwyn in watching Nelva, we¡¯ll likely need them to get through any traps?¡±

    Eme hesitated, but ultimately nodded. ¡°Sure, I can do that. Let me know if you guys find anything good.¡±

    Autumn smiled at her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. Once we¡¯ve made sure it¡¯s fine and find somewhere to put her, we¡¯ll get Nelva up there. It¡¯s probably just the necromancer¡¯s bedroom, and I doubt they¡¯d like to sleep around too many traps.¡±

    Liddie snorted. ¡°I¡¯d not be so sure. It pays to always assume your enemies are more paranoid than you think. Rule number five, or was it six? Anyway, that rule has saved my hide many a time.¡±

    The trio chatted quietly as they moved over to the iron door, Liddie sharing stories as examples of not underestimating your foes, while Edwyn shared tales of never underestimating stupidity either.

    ¡°People can be far dumber than ye ever think. Juist ¡®cause they¡¯re dangerous doesn¡¯t make them smart. In your career, you¡¯ll eventually see something so dumb happen that ye¡¯ll suspect it¡¯s a trap, or a genius plan. Mark mah words. There was this one time¡­oh we¡¯re here.¡±

    Between the two of them, they practically melted the locks and wards from the door. Actually, they literally melted the locks at one point. And before too long, they were swiftly ascending the tight stairwell single-file, heading towards what they hoped was the last floor.

    Autumn poked her head into the new room after Liddie and Edwyn.

    Her hunch had been right on the money, seeing as she was staring at a small, personal lounge. Magic had kept this place clean for long, yet it still could not fully escape the ravages of time. The relentless march had peeled the fancy gold-trimmed wallpaper off the walls and turned the plush couches to naught but mold. A glance around the decaying walls revealed some of the many decaying paintings that depicted some necromancer of old or another. Autumn was more interested in the pair of doors leading away into other rooms.

    After checking them too for traps, they peeked into each and found a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom behind one and a small study behind the other.

    ¡°Alright, looks like we¡¯re clear of traps.¡± Liddie said. ¡°Still, be careful what you touch. Let¡¯s split up and take a room each. Any preferences?¡±

    ¡°Umm, I should take the study, right? Seeing as how I can read the ancient texts. If that¡¯s alright?¡± Autumn offered.

    Edwyn grunted. ¡°Makes sense. Guess I¡¯ll take the sittin¡¯ room then.¡±

    ¡°You just want to do less work.¡± Liddie complained with a laugh.

    ¡°What of it?¡±

    Autumn just shook her head at their antics as she walked away, heading towards the study and, hopefully, the loot within.

 Chapter Eighty-Five: A Room with a View

    The necromancer¡¯s study that Autumn carefully entered was fairly small, looking to be only a handful of paces from the door to the opposing wall. However, it was just over double that in length, ending in a wide open balcony that overlooked the graveyard of heroes and kings far below. Thankfully, the foul smell of that horrific place wasn¡¯t able to infiltrate its way past the glowing barrier that sealed the balcony off from the rest of the study.

    Glancing curiously about the study, several interesting things caught Autumn¡¯s attention.

    A series of narrow bookshelves sat snuggly against the far northeastern corner of the room from the door, filled to the brim with ancient and dusty books alongside a small collection of odds and ends; a marble bust weathered from age, a gilded skull being used as a bookend, and a cracked hourglass filled with black sand. Sitting directly adjacent to the shelves was a luxuriously soft-looking reading chair, the plush leather only slightly faded and frayed. However, what caught the witch¡¯s attention the most was a lone bookstand resting in front of the bookshelves that bore atop it a heavy book bound in black chains.

    Reluctantly, Autumn turned away from the book and took in the rest of the room.

    Directly opposite the tiny library and resting against the other wall was an arcane workstation, coated in a residue of melted candles and strange trinkets. Even from the relative safety of the doorway, Autumn could see a series of eerie runes and glyphs shining atop the bench¡¯s surface.

    Looking towards the balcony on her left, Autumn took in the large, seemingly oaken desk that dominated that side of the room. Faded and yellowed parchment rested atop the wooden surface, pinned beneath the weight of a crumbling skull. The witch¡¯s eyes drifted over the papers to rest upon a golden chalice, still stained with dried wine as it glittered in the pale light of a candelabra, and a mystical-looking glass orb roughly about the size of her head. A plush chair sat askew behind the desk, as if someone had left in a hurry.

    The last thing of note with the study was a fireplace that sat beside the desk along the same wall as the bookshelves. Whether it was actually used by the necromancer or just decoration, Autumn couldn¡¯t say.

    Autumn felt spoiled for choice in what to investigate first, but eventually she felt that the lone bookstand was too much for her to ignore.

    Skipping excitedly over to the tiny library, Autumn stopped just before the bookstand and took in the esoteric book chained to it. It was a spell-book, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Clearly dedicated to necromancy, its cover was made of stitched skin and depicted a grinning skull trying to push its way free of the macabre binding. However, a black-iron strap stretched across the skull¡¯s eye-sockets, binding it firmly down before ending in a thick padlock to the side.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes lit up even as she glanced over it trepidatiously. They then flickered over to the doorway that led back to the sitting room in which Edwyn lurked.

    To her knowledge, necromancy was very illegal in the empire, and logically there¡¯d be a clear difference between slyly selling trinkets on the black market and actively practicing it. However, when was she ever going to get another chance? As soon as they handed it over, she¡¯d never see it again. And they couldn¡¯t claim there wasn¡¯t one in a necromancer¡¯s tower, the guild wasn¡¯t stupid after all.

    No, if she wanted to learn any of the art, or at the very least, supplement her own, it¡¯d have to be now, before they returned to Duskfields or even the convoy, for that matter.

    More spells in her arsenal wouldn¡¯t hurt¡­well they would, just hopefully, not her.

    To give herself time to think, Autumn paced over the rest of the library to skim over the books there. There wasn¡¯t anything as exciting as the spell-book, just mainly out-of-date history books, medical tomes on how different races work, and other dry topics. Certainly rare books that¡¯d sell well to the Scribe¡¯s Guild, but nothing magical as she was hoping.

    On the other hand, the workshop was more to her speed.

    After carefully reading and rereading the scattered runes and glyphs carved into the stone worktop, Autumn came to realize that they¡¯d been designed to funnel the energy of gemstones and other magical ingredients into a central point and infuse whatever that lay there with that power. Excited by her discovery, she pawed over the scattered notes until she found a rather interesting journal.

    The Most Comprehensive

    and

    Illustrious Guide

    to Perfect Wand-making

    by Necro-Lord Gravis Val Treach

    Autumn couldn¡¯t contain her grin.

    Moving on lest she get overwhelmed by excitement and end up blowing both herself and the tower up with another poorly made wand, Autumn turned now to the large oak desk and the papers haphazardly spread across it. She rounded the table cautiously, and after looking over it thricely for traps, magical or otherwise, she plonked herself down in the battered armchair and began carefully looking over the papers.

    However, upon sitting herself down, Autumn accidentally kicked something underneath the desk. Craning herself to look down there, she saw a fairly nondescript belt lying on the floor, seemingly forgotten in a mad rush. Overcome by her curiosity, she couldn¡¯t resist picking it up with a piece of cloth and examining it atop the desk.

    The brass-studded leather was reasonably thick and long enough to wrap around Autumn¡¯s waist at least twice, where it ended in a thick brass belt buckle. To either side of the belt lay a pair of small pouches, four in total, while a larger one lay at the small of the back. However, that was not all, as when Autumn curiously opened a pouch, all she saw inside was a black void.

    Excitedly, she realized she¡¯d found a pouch of holding or, more accurately, a belt of holding.

    Pushing her mind back to examining the yellowed parchments, Autumn skimmed over them until she saw something strange lying underneath them. Slowly pushing the papers away, her eyes steadily widened before she sprang to her feet as she realized she was looking at a map. Hurriedly she cast the rest to the floor until the map was fully revealed to her.

    An intricately detailed map of the underground tunnels and caverns sprawled out before her. She swallowed heavily as she glanced over it. The notes were in the necromancer¡¯s tongue, but that hardly posed a problem for her and she swiftly located several points labeled as exit-slash-entry points. Some even as far away as the Gloomstruck¡ªnot that it was called that back then, but the positions aligned.

    One particular exit caught her attention the most as it was labeled simply as: the hag¡¯s abode.

    The armchair groaned as the witch slumped back into it, clutching at her head as she hyperventilated. She felt like the walls were closing in on her. It was all too much, too soon, for her to deal with it.

    ¡°Breathe, just breathe,¡± the banshee¡¯s voice whispered into Autumn¡¯s ear. And under her gentle guidance, Autumn slowly caught her breath and wrestled her fear away into hat.

    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

    Turning back to the map, Autumn carefully thought things over. There was no guarantee that the hag still lived at that spot given the map was over two-thousand years out-of-date. It was highly likely that she¡¯d moved on in that time to somewhere else in the mire or underground.

    ¡°I¡¯d not beest so sure. Beings like that becometh entrenched, comfortable in their haunts over their long lives. More likely yon hag lives thither still.¡±

    Autumn nodded, still darkly thinking. Her eyes flickered. She was the only one who knew about the map, that it even existed or could read it. It¡¯d not take much to change it. She could just¡­alter a few letters and remove some marks until only the hag¡¯s exit remained, until the convoy had no other choice but to fight Mildred the Finger Eater if they wanted to leave the underground alive.

    Autumn hesitated as she reached out for a quill.

    ¡°Doest thy morals halt thy hand? Abhor it,¡± the banshee whispered seductively, ¡°for the hag shalt not hesitate to carve thee anew the next time thy fates align. Underestimate yon monster at thy own peril, mark mine words. Thee wilt killeth yond hag, so useth all to maketh it so.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s fingers tightened around the quill.

    <hr>

    ¡°Psst, Edwyn.¡±

    Peeking around the corner of the doorway, Autumn quietly called over to the Manus who was pulling damaged portraits off of the peeling wall. At Autumn¡¯s call, they looked over, one bushy eyebrow raising at Autumn¡¯s obvious surreptitious actions. Gamely, they marched over to her, still carrying the portrait under one brawny arm.

    ¡°What¡¯s up? Ye found something?¡±

    Autumn discreetly nodded, nervous eyes on the lookout for Liddie. ¡°Yeah, but I need you to help me unlock¡­why are you collecting that ruined painting? Surely, nobody would buy that.¡±

    ¡°Eh, I bet there¡¯s someone out there with more gold than sense. Besides, sellin¡¯ it ain¡¯t mah problem. Our guild¡¯ll sell it off tae the merchants next door for a gold or two, ¡®n¡¯ they¡¯ll pawn it off for five. Plus, it¡¯ll add tae our total.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°I thought all the loot was shared.¡±

    Edwyn shrugged. ¡°Sure, sure, but the Guild still likes tae know who their earners are. We¡¯re already in profit, but the more we collect, the better we look. Now whatcha want?¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Remember that favor you were talking about?¡±

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Edwyn asked curiously.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m calling it in. I need you to unlock something for me and keep quiet about it.¡± Autumn glanced nervously at the door to the bedroom Liddie was exploring.

    Edwyn sighed at Autumn''s behavior, resigned to their fate. ¡°How illegal are we talking ¡®ere? Out of ten?¡±

    ¡°Eleven?¡± Autumn winced. ¡°Come on, it''s best to show you.¡±

    Sighing again, Edwyn followed behind Autumn as she guided them towards the necromantic spell-book.

    ¡°Ah, that illegal.¡± Edwyn muttered. ¡°Alright, gimme a moment or two to crack this. After that, leave me out of it. Just promise me that yer nae gonnae misuse this. I don¡¯t wanna wake up to zombies jiggin¡¯ about.¡±

    Autumn crossed her heart. ¡°I promise.¡±

    ¡°Stand back then, these things bite.¡±

    Giving the Runecaster some space, Autumn watched on for the next twenty minutes as they steadily dismantled the magical locks upon the book. While she was sure it¡¯d take less time if she called Liddie over to help with the physical aspects of it, she didn¡¯t want to involve any more people than necessary in this. As they say; two people can keep a secret if one of them is dead¡­not that she was planning to kill Edwyn or anything.

    ¡°There, done. Now, I¡¯ve got some moldy couches tae rifle thro¡¯ for some loose change, might take me awhile.¡±

    Saying so, Edwyn left Autumn alone with an unlocked spell-book dedicated to necromancy. Even Autumn could understand what a poor choice that was. Still, she excitedly opened it up and paged through it like an alcoholic craving for a drink.

    She got lost in the pages as several spells immediately captivated her.

    Those being:

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Requiem of the Dead</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Brain Worm</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Harm</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Flesh Stitching</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Bone Grafting</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Detect Poison and Disease</li>

    </ul>

    There were many more dark spells hidden within the hide pages, but they were more in line with what she thought of as necromancy like Raise Zombie or Summon Ghasts, and frankly, Autumn wasn¡¯t that interested.

    The first spell she looked at was Requiem of the Dead and it was quite an interesting read.

    Requiem of the Dead

    Or simply, Requiem, is a spell I¡¯ve refined to allow the preservation of bodies, both for transport and for reanimation. Still works on detached parts and organs. Useful for short-term preservation, but the spell only lasts an approximate ten days before it is needed to be reapplied.

    Components required: Untainted salt (expended per usage), and a pair of gold coins (purity 98% or above.)

    Steps:

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Place the gold coins atop the target¡¯s eyes and spread the salt around their mouth and navel (skin contact not required.) In the case of body parts, simply spread the salt across it, the gold isn¡¯t required beyond the Ultien Threshold. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Recite the chant listed below. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="font-weight: 400">Touch the body and imbue it with magic.</li>

    </ul>

    It was a spell that would be immediately helpful with their current predicament and didn¡¯t seem all that hard to learn or to perform. At least it wasn¡¯t for her.

    Skimming over the pages, Autumn moved on to the next spell in her list.

    Harm was an interesting spell in that it wasn¡¯t much of a spell at all; instead, it was more of a modifier, a condition that¡¯d change the effects of her other spells to inflict some kind of magical necrosis upon her enemies. For example; if she applied harm to her Touch of Terror, she could cause a blight to infest whomever she touched.

    A Harmful Touch, if you will.

    Brain Worm was¡­interesting to read, if anything else.

    Brain Worm

    This spell is one that I created solely. It is based upon a parasitic worm I observed in the far southern deserts. An adult fly will lay its eggs upon the skin or in the hair of a host and when the pupa worm hatches, it buries itself through the host¡¯s soft tissue and into their brain. There, the worm releases chemicals to influence the host and drive them to seek a suitable climate for the worm to gestate and become an adult fly. Of course, the host will not survive the encounter as their brain is used to feed the worm¡¯s development.

    The spell I devised will use a similar concept to implant a short-lived telepath link to a target, allowing for near instant communication. And, if the caster possesses a stronger will than their target, they¡¯ll be able to mildly influence them as the brain worm might.

    Autumn rubbed her eyes.

    While it¡¯d certainly be an upgrade to her Mind Whisper spell, she didn¡¯t think her team would be so keen on it if she told them what it was called or the fact she could subtly influence them. Maybe she¡¯d just learn the semi-permanent part and keep the old name.

    Amongst the list of spells that Autumn was interested in, the final three focused more on the manipulation of both the living and the dead. Logically, while necromancers could use degraded flesh and bone to ply their trade, they¡¯d much rather work with fresh components, just like any other profession. However, with their particular skill-set and reputation, acquiring bodies in good condition wouldn¡¯t be easy. As such, this was where magic came in.

    And while Autumn wasn¡¯t in the market for fresh bodies, the memory of her almost fatal injury by a crystalline spike right though her spine was hard to forget. If she mastered the three spells of Flesh Stitching, Bone Grafting, and Detect Poison and Disease, she¡¯d have a much better chance of surviving in this harsh world. Not to mention she could finally remove the awful, maggot-looking scar across both her belly and back.

    ¡°Hey, Autumn! Where are you?! I found something cool!¡± Liddie yelled as she burst into the room.

    Autumn yelled in fright and spun to face the pirate, blocking Liddie¡¯s sight from the spell-book.

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s flustered appearance, Liddie¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°You weren¡¯t masturb¡ª¡±

    ¡°I was reading!¡± Autumn yelled before she could finish, glaring all the while at the smirking pirate. She gestured roughly to the books behind her.

    Liddie just shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t really care. Come on! I found the vault! Let¡¯s go see what¡¯s in it!¡±

    Like an excited puppy, Liddie grabbed onto Autumn¡¯s arm and dragged her from the study and towards the necromancer¡¯s bedroom. Behind them trailed Edwyn, an exacerbated sigh leaving their lips.

 Chapter Eighty-Six: A Vault and What Lies Within

    ¡°Now, let¡¯s see if you can spot what¡¯s wrong with this room.¡±

    Autumn blinked in confusion and fright as Liddie put her on the spot, thrusting the witch into the necromancer¡¯s bedroom by her shoulders.

    Thankfully for her remaining sanity, the bedroom lacked the gruesome adornments of the other floors as she¡¯d expected. Instead, it held a tidy design fit neatly into the square footprint of the room. Intricate patterns carved into the floor and inlaid with gold only barely peeked out from under a large fur rug of a many-headed beast, while a glowing chandelier cast a gloom down on them from above. A trio of towering windows only added to the pall as they let in the haunting light of the many caged will-o¡¯-the-wisps. Two of such windows dominated the northern wall and cast their light upon a king-size canopy bed there, while the last shone in from the south beside a grand, dark wooden wardrobe.

    Looking across to the wall opposite the door, Autumn took in the sight of an extremely tacky, floor-to-ceiling portrait depicting who she could only assume was the necromancer themself glaring haughtily into the room.

    Turning away in disgust, Autumn swept her eyes over the rest of the room. To her right sat a small relaxation area complete with plush couches and a small coffee table, while to her left rested a vanity with an attached dusty crystal mirror.

    It wasn¡¯t obvious to her where the supposed vault lay, so Autumn hoped the usual tropes would see her through and impress the pirate.

    ¡°Umm, the room is too small?¡± Autumn state-asked.

    Liddie just shook her head. ¡°There¡¯s no point in guessing. You need to look around and try to find it.¡±

    ¡°Is this all necessary?¡± Edwyn gruffed behind them. ¡°Let¡¯s juist get the loot ¡®n¡¯ go already.¡±

    ¡°Shut it you. It¡¯s important that we teach the rookies how to do things properly.¡± Liddie barked at the impatient runelord behind them.

    ¡°Ye, juist want her to steal shit for ya.¡± Edwyn shot back. ¡°Don¡¯t ye lie tae me.¡±

    Ignoring the pair¡¯s banter, Autumn moved about the room as she checked it over for its secrets. The first thing she did was to roll back the bear¡ªor whatever it was¡ªskin rug and look beneath, but to her disappointment there wasn¡¯t any hidden trapdoor, just more inlaid gold.

    ¡®I¡¯m disappointed to find gold literally in the floors now? What a weird world I live in~¡¯

    Autumn shook her head wryly as she let the rug fall back into place.

    The next place she checked was under the bed, yet even in that classic hiding spot, there was nothing but an entire civilization of dust bunnies. She wished them well before moving on to ransack the extensive wardrobe for clues, but all she found within were musty robes and disintegrating shoes. Neither did the dusty vanity shed any light upon the secretive vault that Liddie swore was in here, even as she grinned at Autumn¡¯s lack of results.

    However, what Autumn found hiding in the dusty mirror was a scraggly witch glaring out at her with eyes shadowed by dark circles, accusing her of the mess that her hair had become. Not even magic could halt the wildness of it forever, and the heat that¡¯d curled the ends certainly didn¡¯t help.

    Autumn wished the reflection well as well before she looked over the room once more.

    ¡°Come on, you¡¯re doing well.¡± Liddie cheered from the doorway as she wrestled with a Manus. ¡°Just need to look a little closer.¡±

    The witch huffed at the pirate, taking her hint in stride.

    Dropping to the floor, Autumn set about looking for any signs of scratches upon it from the repeated movement of furniture. However, she found nothing but the general wear and tear of living¡ªor unliving in this case¡ªhiding beneath the dust. Something she did curiously notice was that the floor-to-ceiling portrait didn¡¯t in fact reach the floor, instead it had less than an inch of clearance.

    ¡°Oh? Did you find something?¡± Liddie asked, all too casually.

    Autumn rolled her eyes, but gamely approached the portrait while the pair trailing behind her. With her face pressed up against the cold white wall, she could see that the painting wasn¡¯t flush with it. Instead the painting had just enough space to allow it to swing open without scraping the wall.

    Remembering Liddie¡¯s earlier lesson about not touching things and the subsequent example that Roland had made, Autumn used her knife instead to search behind the painting for its hinges. When she successfully confirmed them, she slipped over to the other side and swiftly found its locked latch.

    Liddie clapped cheerfully behind her. ¡°You did it! Sniff, they grow up so fast~¡±

    Once again, Autumn rolled her eyes at the pirate¡¯s antics, but couldn¡¯t deny the pleased feeling inside her that the praise brought.

    ¡°Now, while you did really well, what kind of teacher would I be if I didn¡¯t give some constructive criticism.¡±

    Edwyn snorted at that, but Liddie ignored them and continued on, counting Autumn¡¯s mistakes on her fingers.

    ¡°Number one: You didn¡¯t look up. Don¡¯t feel so bad about it as most people don¡¯t. As such, it tends to be a good hiding spot. Number two: you didn¡¯t check the walls for secret stashes or bolt holes. Granted, any here you¡¯d likely need to be a necromancer to even find, let alone get to. Number three: you didn¡¯t check the windows. While I don¡¯t blame you for not wanting anything to do with the miasma out there, just keep it in mind for the future, yeah?¡±

    Autumn nodded.

    ¡°Moving on to number four, and this one is important: you didn¡¯t check for traps or poison. Good job for remembering to use a knife instead of your finger, as there were some needles lining the edge of the painting. I, of course, disarmed them earlier.¡±

    Liddie tapped her lips in thought, ¡°there are probably a lot of other things to list, but I think that¡¯s enough for now. I¡¯ll make a rogue out of you yet,¡± she grinned at Autumn.

    ¡°Now, how about we loot the vault, huh?¡±

    With a terrible groan, the tacky painting swung open on seized hinges to reveal a large vault door backing it. The trio of now vault raiders stepped through the yawning portal into the glittering room beyond, where chests upon chests of gold and silver spilled their contents into the pale candlelight. The vault was only a few paces across, but as Autumn looked left, she saw it ran the entire length of the bedroom wall divided off by a set of black-iron bars that came complete with a barred door brandishing a fearsome-looking lock, blocking them from the rest of the treasure. Beyond the bars lay a series of pedestals, each displaying what looked to be enchanted items atop velvet cushions.

    Autumn sucked in a breath.

    ¡°Open it! Open it!¡± she urged the pirate.

    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Liddie chuckled. ¡°You don¡¯t have to push me! Edwyn can you block the door with something? Maybe one of those chests? We don¡¯t want it to close on us somehow.¡±

    Edwyn grumbled under their breath, but still dragged one of the heavy chests into the doorway to keep it open. In the meantime, Liddie took out her lockpicks swiftly from her coat pocket and set to work. The fearsome lock didn¡¯t stand even an ice-witch¡¯s chance in the hells of withstanding the pirate¡¯s expert fingers, and before the thick padlock had even clanked to the ground, they were rushing through the barred door to take in the hoard before them.

    Just under two dozen plinths spanned the length of the vault, each bearing upon them a small engraved plaque, the words written in the necromancer¡¯s tongue.

    Autumn frowned as she halted before the first, its pillow empty save for a spherical divot the size of eye. Now on the other end of incessant urging, she translated the text for Liddie and Edwyn.

    The Watcher¡¯s Eye.

    An onyx eye plucked from the head of a living void watcher. Once placed into an empty eyesocket, it¡¯ll grant the wearer the ability to see through many things, including into other planes of existence.

    ¡°Huh,¡± Liddie made a noise of interest, ¡°too bad it¡¯s missing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s strange, isn¡¯t it?¡± Autumn muttered, ¡°Aren¡¯t we the first one¡¯s here?¡±

    Liddie hummed noncommittally, evidently more interested in the rest of the items still here. ¡°Maybe somebody did. Edwyn brought a key to this place, after all. Maybe the same person took that too?¡±

    Autumn doubted it, as she¡¯d not found it herself on the skeleton. They could¡¯ve dropped it while fleeing, but she suspected they¡¯d been one of the necromancer¡¯s assistants or maybe a captive. Would they¡¯ve had access to this vault, and would they¡¯ve risked stealing a prized item from the necromancer?

    ¡°Come on~¡± Liddie whined as she tugged on Autumn¡¯s wrist, ¡°I wanna know what the rest are~¡±

    Atop the following plinth they inspected, they found an elven circlet crafted from ghostly silver and adorned with an assortment of blue teardrop gems. The small crown constantly emitted a swirling mist around it. Glancing down, Autumn once again read the plaque aloud.

    Wraithlord¡¯s Crown

    The crown of the wraith king. When worn, the circlet will allow the wearer to draw spectral undead to themselves and bind them to their will. Comes at the cost of hearing constant whispers at the edge of one¡¯s hearing.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    ¡°So it¡¯s cursed? Tssk, typical. Next!¡± Liddie said as she dragged Autumn on.

    The Baron¡¯s Top hat

    Baron Samdi¡¯s top hat. Wearing it will grant a greater influence and creation of zombies and zombie-adjacent types of undead. It is ill-advised to wear the hat for long as the baron is constantly seeking it and will feel its presence when worn. Also makes the wearer crave rum and cigars while making them more prone to swearing.

    ¡°Weird. Next!¡±

    Spirit Caller

    A deer skull helm dedicated to the Goddess Cilene. When worn it¡¯ll allow the wearer to call any number of animal spirits to their aid. The type of spirits that are called depends on the location and what has died within it. However, as this item is dedicated to Cilene, removing it will end the wearer¡¯s life.

    ¡°Brrr. This is why you don¡¯t touch spooky stuff, or anything really. Next! Next!¡±

    Autumn sighed.

    Ghostwrap

    A robe made from the souls of mortal archimages. Wearing this robe grants access to the deceased mage¡¯s magical reserves along with a resistance to elemental energies and an immunity to necrotic spells. However, the souls within the robe will constantly seek to supplant the wearer''s soul.

    Moritia¡¯s Embrace

    A cuirass made from the ribcage of Moritia the Thrice-damned. When worn will allow the wearer to siphon the life of struck enemies to heal themselves. However, this armor also steadily siphons natural essences from the wearer to repair itself, making them grow sickly until they eventually die.

    ¡°Why is everything so cursed?!!¡± Liddie cried out.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°We are in a necromancer¡¯s tower, remember? It¡¯s kind of expected. Oh look, these next ones aren¡¯t cursed.¡± She gestured to a pair of thick leather boots armored in a burnished steel, the soles and leather permanently stained by a dark mud.

    ¡°Oh?!¡± Liddie perked up. ¡°Go on! Read it out then!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing it! I¡¯m doing it! Don¡¯t shake me!¡±

    March of the Legion

    Boots of the demonkin general Damxes the Longstrider. Wearing these boots will grant the ability to travel further, faster, and with less effort. These boots won¡¯t, however, allow one to outrun a blighted dark-haunter, as poor Damxes found out.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think the necromancer liked this Damxes.¡± Autumn said wryly. ¡°They were at war, I suppose. Have you ever heard of this general guy? Girl?¡±

    Liddie shook her head as she stared at the boots, looking like she wanted to try them out. ¡°Nah, never. Although, I¡¯m not really a history-loving kinda girl.¡±

    ¡°Ok. Edwyn? Any idea?¡±

    Edwyn too shook their head. ¡°Nay, not me neither.¡±

    ¡°Whatever then, let¡¯s move on. We can always circle back to these latter.¡± Autumn prodded Liddie towards the next plinth, where another set of boots sat. These were far more sinister-looking, however, with large metal spikes dotting them.

    Corpsedancers

    Made of black-iron, these boots allow the wearer to move faster for every foe slain within a 100 standard heartbeats. Care must be taken if casting an area of effect spell as the last wearer, Thuridual the Fast, died after casting a mass-cloudkill spell and then proceeded to run into a wall of air.

    Liddie snorted.

    Bloodfeasters

    A pair of spiked gauntlets made of an unknown red metal. When attacking an unarmored foe, or simply punching through said armor, will cause severely bleeding wounds that can only be stemmed with magic. Fairly useless as most foes carry some sort of magical means of healing.

    Gloves of the Hateforged

    The greater devil, Mephistopheles, crafted these hell-metal gloves himself in exchange for an ancient gladiator¡¯s soul. When worn, they grant vast power and endurance at the cost of a deep and inescapable rage. The wearer will then become an army-breaking monster until their death or removal of the gloves, whichever comes first. The gladiator of yore was said to have toppled the kingdom he swore to protect in his rage.

    Liddie whistled as she eyed the thick metal gauntlets with distaste, her face darkening further at the mention of a devil. ¡°You think Nethlia could handle them?¡±

    ¡°Liddie, if you ever let her wear these, I¡¯ll break every one of your fucking fingers.¡± Autumn said coldly.

    ¡°Chill, chill. I wasn¡¯t serious; I¡¯d never let her do that.¡± Liddie stressed. ¡°Every Inferni knows not to fuck around with devils or their craft. Not even necromancy, as bad as it is, is as harshly looked upon as devilcraft is. These¡¯ll go straight to the capital to be destroyed and, barring that, the Empress¡¯ll find a deep, dark pit for them.¡±

    ¡°...oh. Sorry for swearing at you.¡±

    Liddie smiled. ¡°It¡¯s ok¡­Still have the hots for her even with that kitty-cat in your hammock, huh?¡± she smirked.

    Autumn blushed. ¡°What? Noooo¡­do you want me to read these or not?!¡±

    A laughing Liddie pushed Autumn further into the vault.

    The next plinth they came upon held an upright shield atop its velvet cushion. The blood-stained wood of a large kite shield lay covered in an old and war-frayed banner depicting a burning man upon a field of red. Battle-hymns and sacred-prayers scribed onto crimson-marred parchment cluttered the edges of the shield, secured in place there by thick wax seals.

    ¡°Hmm, Nelva needs a new shield, doesn¡¯t she?¡± Liddie tapped her lip in mock thought.

    ¡°How about ye figure out what it does ¡®efore ye curse yer friends with it?¡± Edwyn grumped at her.

    ¡°Sounds fair. Well? Away, my fair scribe, read on!¡±

    Autumn sighed. ¡°Fine, but please don¡¯t call me ¡®fair¡¯. I¡¯ve got some history with that description.¡±

    ¡°Ooo~ so mysterious.¡±

    Charity

    The origins of this shield and of the heraldry depicted upon are unknown, only that it came as a pair with a warhammer that¡¯s since been lost. This kite shield boasts the significant defense that all magical enchantments possess alongside the ability to drive the wearer¡¯s allies into a suicidal frenzy. Once activated, the wearer¡¯s allies will charge their enemies without regard for their own life or safety.

    ¡°Huh, I guess if it¡¯s on purpose, then it¡¯s not a curse, right?¡± Autumn asked hesitantly.

    She felt like she knew what this shield and a ¡®warhammer¡¯ was about, but it was like an itch at the back of her mind.

    ¡°I mean, you don¡¯t have to use it?¡± Liddie offered. ¡°Still, it¡¯s an enchanted shield anyway, and Nelva is without one.¡±

    Autumn reluctantly nodded. ¡°Yeah, I guess. Even if I had a wand, I don¡¯t know if I can fix that much damage.¡±

    ¡°It t¡¯was bonny fucked.¡± Edwyn chuckled.

    On the following plinth, there was another shield, this time in a tall oval shape. An intricate silver frame bordered a shattered silver-backed mirror, reflecting their images in a kaleidoscope of jagged pieces.

    Autumn looked at the plaque below while Liddie made funny faces in the mirror, much to Edwyn¡¯s annoyance.

    Reflection of Kazam

    This mirror once held within it the Jinn, Kazam the Reflectant, until an ill-worded wish allowed them to break free, subsequently shattering the mirror. However, as their influence has truly soaked into the mirror¡¯s enchantments over their long captivity, it¡¯ll still reflect spells as it used to, only now they¡¯ll be unstable and prone to unintended effects.

    ¡°Hmm, there¡¯s a lot to unpack there, but I¡¯m just gonna move on.¡± Autumn said to a quiet room.

    ¡°Sounds wise.¡± Edwyn nodded as they stroked their beard. ¡°A jinn on the loose, aye? Presumably one from over two-thousands years ago with an intense grudge, most like. Not troubling at all, not one bit.¡±

    Liddie shrugged. ¡°Eh, it¡¯s likely minding its business over the sandy graves of whatever nation pissed it off. So, it¡¯s not our problem! Next!¡±

    Autumn huffed. ¡®This is starting to feel like window shopping in a department store that I can¡¯t afford anything in.¡¯

    ¡°Could thee steal everything in yond store?¡± The banshee asked pointedly.

    ¡®...no.¡¯

    The next item Autumn glanced upon took her breath away. A simple, black ring inset with a small oval moonstone sat delicately upon the velvet cushion. It seemed out of place amongst the other grand artifacts, but one look at its name dispelled that notion for her.

    The Ferryman¡¯s Lantern

    A simple ring gifted to a lonesome ferryman. When worn, the ring will provide a light that¡¯ll cut through any darkness, magical or otherwise, allowing the wearer to always see where they are going.

    ¡°Bullshit.¡± Autumn said.

    ¡°Why do you say that? Something wrong with it?¡± Liddie asked as she curiously looked over the ring.

    It took a lot of effort for Autumn not to pull her back from it. Instead, she took a breath and thought about how to make her understand.

    ¡°Well, that can¡¯t be all it does, or else why would it be placed here amongst the necromancer¡¯s prizes?¡± Autumn gestured around herself, ¡°And the name, the Ferryman? That¡¯s death.¡±

    Liddie looked at Autumn strangely. ¡°Cilene¡¯s the goddess of death and endings, not this Ferryman.¡±

    Flustered, Autumn rubbed her eyes. ¡°The Ferryman isn¡¯t a god or whatever, he¡¯s just death. Thee Death. Capital D, Death. I¡¯d know; I¡¯ve met him. Look, it doesn¡¯t matter. I just need that ring and we can¡¯t let anyone know about it. I¡¯ll eat my hat if it¡¯s just some fancy torch.¡±

    She¡¯d also eat her hat if it wasn¡¯t placed here for her to find, as unlikely as that was.

    Liddie and Edwyn shared a look.

    ¡°Alright~ We¡¯ll circle back to this one later as well.¡± Liddie nodded to her. ¡°Next!¡±

    Edwyn chuckled at the yell, getting excited themselves.

    Butcher¡¯s Cleaver

    A heavily rusted blade once used by Grimga the Cannibal, although history has lost just whom he was cannibalizing. The rusted blade will cause poison in any wound struck.

    ¡°Any rusted blade would do that!!! Next!¡±

    Oddly, the next velvet cushion was just as empty as the first.

    Swashbuckler¡¯s Boot-blade

    The boot blade of Jenny the Red. While also cutting keenly as any enchanted blade would, as long as it¡¯s in its sheath, it cannot be found by anyone beside the wearer, effectively allowing them to be always secretly armed.

    Autumn looked at the empty plinth. ¡°Are we sure it¡¯s not still there? It would be perfect for you Liddie.¡±

    ¡°It sure would~,¡± Liddie sighed wistfully. ¡°WELP, no use crying over spilled ale. Let¡¯s move on, shall we? And not think too hard about it~¡±

    The next weapon along stopped Autumn short. It was a Katana. There was no doubt in her mind about it. A familiar curved blade sat atop a bright red obi sheathed in a pure white saya. The wrapping around the hilt was too of a pure snow white while its fitting were of a deep brass. However, missing from the blade was its tsuba, its hand guard.

    Autumn read over the plaque beneath excitedly.

    Snow Demon¡¯s Fang

    Crafted by a legendary swordsmith out of a single metal tooth of the dragon known as the White Terror, this equally legendary blade possesses no equal in its sharpness. However, before the blade could be finished, the swordsmith annoyingly died, and the hand guard was lost. As such, this keen blade is as much a danger to its wielder as it is to their enemies, for one errant slip will see them lose a finger or two.

    ¡°Do you think Eme would be hurt if I said this is perfect for her?¡± Autumn tentatively asked.

    ¡°Because of her hand?¡± Liddie asked. ¡°Maybe a little, but if you gave her a legendary blade, she¡¯d get over it fast. You know, you¡¯re stacking up to be a helluva girlfriend for that Felis.¡±

    Autumn flushed. ¡°We¡¯re not¡ªWe aren¡¯t¡ª¡±

    Liddie bullied on, interrupting Autumn¡¯s flustered refusals. ¡°When she¡¯s at her lowest, having lost both her friend and her arm, you come bursting back into her life, looking all fearless as you do. You comfort her and promise her the world, expecting nothing in return. And then, you actually do it. Within a day, you¡¯ve crafted her a new arm out of magic and dragon bone, of all things. And now you want to gift her a legendary sword, just cause it fits her?¡±

    Liddie huffed, staring up at the ceiling.

    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m jealous.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s face was too hot for her to reply. She¡¯d not thought about how it looked from Eme¡¯s or the other¡¯s perspective before as she¡¯d just done what she wanted to do and what felt right in the moment.

    ¡°Eh, whatever. I¡¯ll get over it.¡± Liddie chirped, ¡°Now, come on. Let¡¯s see what the rest of this shit is.¡±

 Chapter Eighty-Seven: Now, What Can We Steal?

    ¡°What do you think it was?¡± Liddie asked curiously as she stared at a pile of bone dust and cracked gemstones. The plinth it lay upon proved to be of little help, as it was oddly unlabeled.

    ¡°I think it might¡¯ve been a phylactery, maybe?¡± Autumn said, squinting at the bone dust. ¡°You know, a soul receptacle a necromancer might use to become a lich?¡±

    ¡°I know what a phylactery is.¡± Liddie huffed. ¡°Are you saying that the Angelus punched him so hard that his soul shattered or something before it even had a chance to reform?¡±

    ¡°Something like that.¡±

    Liddie hummed. ¡°What I don¡¯t understand is why here? Isn¡¯t the point of these things to allow the lich to reform far away from whatever killed them to plot a dastardly revenge? This is just a floor above where he died.¡±

    ¡°I doubt the necromancer thought they¡¯d die in their own throne room surrounded by a literal ocean of corpses at their beck ¡®n¡¯ call.¡± Edwyn said dryly. ¡°Most like, they thought if they bit it, they¡¯d be in some far off stead ¡®n¡¯ they could come ¡®ere to rearm themselves.¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s fair.¡± Liddie nodded. ¡°What¡¯s left to look over? I don¡¯t see any more plinths.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s a rack of scrolls in the back.¡± Autumn pointed out.

    True to her words, a lattice of hexagon-shaped recesses lined the back wall and while most of them were empty, a quartet still held a scroll within themselves. These ancient pieces of parchment were anything but ordinary, judging by the golden rods they wound tightly around or the intricately carved caps that held them in place.

    Keen to find out what they did, Autumn swiftly approached the cubbyholes and glanced over the scrolls. Disappointingly, neither the casings nor the holes displayed a label of any kind. While she¡¯d never seen a real spell scroll before, she assumed that unrolling it fully might trigger it to unleash the magic stored inside, or at the very least, diminish its power. So after Edwyn gave it a quick once over, Autumn drew one free and unrolled it ever so slightly to peek inside.

    Counterspell the scroll read in big stylistic flourishes.

    Autumn felt a slight sting of disappointment as she read the scroll, even though she knew it was a powerful spell. Many of her father¡¯s DnD villains had run afoul of its ilk, turning their sweet victories into bitter defeats. Still, she¡¯d hoped for something a dose flashier.

    However, the next spell, Dragon¡¯s Breath, reignited her excitement.

    Magic rolled out from the scroll in a roar as it escaped from the slight sliver of unrolled parchment. Hurriedly, Autumn closed it again lest the breath escape and kill them all. As for what element of breath lay secured within, Autumn could only guess, but she hoped it was fire.

    Who didn¡¯t want to breathe Dragonfire?

    Placing the heavy scroll to the side, she reached for the next. Planar Binding.

    While Autumn was unsure how that¡¯d materialize itself, the wording seemed clear enough to her. It was a spell to turn flight into fight, to keep something or someone right where the caster wanted them.

    ¡®Handy¡¯ she thought.

    The banshee laughed. ¡°Chains to bind and breaketh, then down cometh the blades.¡±

    Autumn smirked to herself, but her good mood swiftly vanished as she read the next spell¡¯s name. Banishment. A spell to cast a wayward wanderer back to whence they¡¯d come, willingly or not. Her hands tightened white around the golden dowels.

    She could go home right now.

    All she had to do was open the scroll fully and allow the magic to whisk her away.

    That and to leave her friends behind in a dark underground to die. To leave a pact unfulfilled and a hag in possession of the greatest book on magic and witchcraft there ever was. The tantalizing magic swirled in the air, beckoning the witch to give in and just go home.

    But that was never an option.

    Agonizingly slow, Autumn rolled the parchment back up and placed it back beside the others. A condemned sigh escaped her as she turned to the others.

    ¡°That¡¯s all I think.¡±

    Liddie rubbed her hands together. ¡°A good haul, great even. But how are we getting this all out of here? Between the five of us, we might manage it, but then there¡¯s all the other stuff down below, not to mention our own gear.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the bodies.¡± Edwyn said.

    ¡°Hmm, them too. I¡¯d hate to leave anything behind and I don¡¯t know about you, but I never want to return here. So whatever is left behind gets lost, or another team can pick it up later.¡±

    ¡°About that.¡± Autumn drew their attention. ¡°I found a bag of holding in the study, but I¡¯ve not had the chance to examine it or anything yet, so there is no guarantee that it¡¯s all that large inside.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s awesome!¡± Liddie cheered. ¡°You got some luck! Share some with me, why dontcha!¡±

    Autumn grimaced. ¡°Not all luck is good, Liddie.¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± she waved Autumn off, ¡°just look on the bright side. On your first silver-rank raid, you¡¯ll make more gold than you¡¯ll know what to do with. Now, leave me and Edwyn here to check all this for curses and the like, and you figure out that bag of holding.¡±

    Saying so, she nudged Autumn towards the exit.

    Once she¡¯d returned to the study, Autumn sheepishly collected up the scattered papers before sinking herself back down into the plush chair to read over them in search of anything to do with the belt of holding.

    Thankfully, her vaunted luck held firm and before long, she was reading over the necromancer¡¯s identification of the belt. Evidently, he¡¯d been in the middle of investigating it when the re-awoken angel had attacked.

    The Belt of the Nomad had unexpectedly spacious pouches of holding that could easily stretch to fit a decent size of items. She wouldn¡¯t be hauling around a graveyard¡¯s worth of bodies anytime soon, but she could easily fit all the treasures they¡¯d accumulated. An obfuscation enchantment made it all the more enticing to the young witch, turning it effectively into a smuggler¡¯s belt. She didn¡¯t doubt there¡¯d be ways around it, but it was better than nothing, plus her current belt was looking kinda shabby.

    Satisfied that there wasn¡¯t anything more to learn about it, Autumn swiftly returned to the other and got it checked over for curses. Once given the all-clear, she happily exchanged it for her own and quietly admired it in the dusty mirror.

    She was looking more and more like a proper adventurer by the day.

    Now she just needed to fix the gaping holes in the rest of her gear.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Oi! Stop flirting with your reflection and come help us bring Nelva and your girlfriend up!¡± Liddie called out to Autumn.

    Flustered, an angry witch chased after the laughing pirate as they headed down the tight stairwell to retrieve their sleeping compatriot. Upon reaching the throne room, they found Nelva awake, if not able. Slowly and carefully, they helped her climb the narrow stairwell back to the upper floors and deposited her into the grand bed, where she quickly succumbed back into the allure of sleep.

    By now, they were all exhausted, both from the multiple fights they¡¯d been in and the injuries they¡¯d sustained. However, Autumn found herself too excited to nap. Instead, she rushed back over to the study and slammed her hands down upon the wand-making station with a manic grin plastered across her face.

    Behind her, Eme wisely curled up on the chair to watch from a distance.

    Autumn was sick of not having a wand, and now that she had the means to make one, nothing was going to stop her. And while she was at it, she intended to make the best one she could.

    With a clatter, Autumn placed down all her materials atop the workbench; the dragon bone wand, the black-iron rod, the dark angel¡¯s feathers, and the flickering halo of dread.

    Logically, there were four combinations of wands available to her, and if all went well, she could make a pair of wands. However, upon glancing over the gemstones and other ingredients that the wand-making guide book required for the stabilization ritual, she saw that there were only enough supplies for one attempt.

    So she¡¯d have to choose.

    First there was the casing, the shell of the wand. For that, she had the options of either dragon bone or black-iron.

    Quickly reading through the guidebook, Autumn learned many things about wands and their materials. While she already knew from folklore and pop-culture that different wand woods gave unique properties that¡¯d suit their owners, she hadn¡¯t a clue what dragon bone or black-iron would favor, or whether they¡¯d suit her.

    Dragon bone ¨C For the Tenacious. This material favors power and an undying strength of will. Combative magics come easily to wands of this type, yet it disfavors cowardice or submission in its wielder.

    And then there was.

    Black-iron ¨C For the Cruel. This material is of a volatile, dominating nature. Wands of this material favor Necromantic and curse related spells, yet as it harbors a hatred for the living, it holds no loyalty to a living wielder.

    There was only one actual choice.

    Autumn pushed the black-iron rod to the side, leaving the dragon bone wand sitting proudly in the center of the formation. While she didn¡¯t feel that the description fit her all that well, it was certainly a better fit than a wand type labeled ¡®the Cruel¡¯ and she hardly needed any more volatility in her life, just the opposite.

    Also, it was no surprise now why the two materials didn¡¯t like to work together. One disdained submission, while the other demanded it.

    Next came the wand core.

    Unsurprisingly, there wasn¡¯t much in the book about an angel¡¯s halo or their feathers. Yet that fact didn¡¯t deter Autumn. For the next several minutes, she paged through the short notebook for anything either equivalent or marginally adjacent. Thankfully she found enough to cobble together some notes in her own hand.

    Fallen Angel¡¯s Halo ¨C Wands made with this core are likely to be immensely powerful and willful, favoring wielders who exemplify honor, courage, and self-sacrifice. While the necromantic ritual to bind the angel¡¯s power to undeath failed somewhat, it still influenced the halo towards dread-based magics alongside instilling a hatred for undeath within it.

    Fallen Angel¡¯s Feather ¨C Wands made with this core will probably favor quiet and quick casting. Plucked from the wings of a fallen angel dedicated to martial prowess, the feathers are likely to favor both loyalty and battle-orientated magics and spells.

    Autumn twirled the quill between her fingers as she waited for the ink to dry. It was all mostly guesswork, but she felt marginally confident in her deductions. Not that it mattered much if she was wrong, as she was still going to make a wand out of one of them in the end.

    For the sake of completion and fun, Autumn scribbled out all four combinations and what she thought the wands would embody.

    9 1?2 inches long, sturdy, made of Dragon bone, possessing an angel halo core ¨C A wand that favors power and loyalty, disdaining undeath while amplifying fear magics.

    9 ? inches long, sturdy, made of Dragon bone, possessing an angel feather core ¨C A wand that favors powerful, quick, and stealthy casting.

    11 inches long, inflexible, made of black-iron, possessing an angel halo core ¨C A powerful, disloyal wand that will probably kill any living wielder, preferring undead users.

    11 inches long, inflexible, made of black-iron, possessing an angel feather core ¨C A wand that favors cruelty, undeath, and sabotage.

    Autumn nodded as she put down her quill and absentmindedly rubbed her fingers, not noticing the ink she smeared onto them. She was pleased with her thoughts about the wands and now all she had to do was narrow down her options and¡­.

    ¡­yeah, no. There was a clear winner here.

    After tidying up the spares, Autumn placed the dragon bone wand and the dark halo onto the central rune. In the other runes that circled the set, she placed the magical crystals, gemstones, and preserved organs of magical beasts according to the guide¡¯s instructions.

    The clacking sounds roused the catgirl from her lazy nap, and she stretched out with a yawn as she looked over at the witch performing her arcane ritual. While Eme trusted that Autumn knew what she was doing, she also quietly prepared to dive beneath the desk at the first signs of an explosion.

    With everything securely in place, Autumn chanted the first words of the necromancer¡¯s wand-making ritual as she poured her magic into the thirsting runes.

    Fear like oil poured free from her hands as she gripped the workbench in pain.

    Across the room, Eme peeked over the desk worriedly, but didn¡¯t interfere.

    Autumn bit her lip as the wand bucked and writhed. Even in death, the bones still contained a dragon¡¯s arrogance and refused to capitulate to her will. It lashed out with a suffocating aura, cracking the gemstones that fueled the ritual, all because a witch would not bow. So she took all her pain, all her rage and fear and just pushed it deeper into the burning runes upon the shaking table like a tidal wave.

    She cared not for the tantrum of a long dead beast.

    And with her own arrogance pulsing through the connection, the dragon bone wand finally halted its resistance as a measure of respect and understanding birthed within it. Suddenly, the connection solidified and the gems around the table crumbled into dust.

    Autumn sucked in a breath as hot sweat dripped down her brow, but her fight was not over.

    The black-flame nimbus shook and shuddered as it resisted the pull of the wandmaker¡¯s table, threatening to crack it and the foundations in twain. Both Autumn and the dragon wand fought tirelessly to drag it inch by inch into the casing and solidify itself into the core of the wand. Neither side would bend or break, and the dark halo proved as tiresome and dangerous as its bearer had been. Pale candlelight flickered as if caught in a great unseen storm until they all blew out, stranding Autumn in a darkened hold.

    But the witch just grinned a grim grin, for she needed no sight to make it hers.

    She¡¯d killed an angel once, and she¡¯d do it again if she had to.

    With a great thunderous boom, the wandmaker workbench snapped clean in half, sending both Autumn and the wand clattering to the ground. With trembling pale fingers, the witch carefully picked up the pure white and black wand. Instantly, she recognized the sensation of a true wand¡ªa surge of righteousness and power flowing through her.

    Slowly, she turned her wand over in her hands. She felt it preen as she admired it.

    Like a dragon¡¯s horn, it spiraled and curled away from her hand to a singular ferocious point. Opening up her fingers, Autumn beheld inside her hand a grip of a dragon roaring down to the base of the wand while a pair of black angelic wings trailed behind it to wrap entirely around the handle. And at the very base of the wand lay a pure black gem clutched in the horned dragon¡¯s fanged jaw.

    ¡°The Angel-Dragon wand.¡± Autumn whispered to herself in awe as she named it.

    ¡°That¡¯s a neat name.¡± Eme said, looking over Autumn¡¯s shoulder at the wand in her hand.

    Autumn screamed in fright.

    A beam of violet violence slammed into the bone ceiling above, sending a rain of powderized bone falling back down upon the pair of girls. Coughing and spluttering, Autumn quickly turned to the sheepish catgirl as she tried to calm her pounding heart.

    ¡°How long have you been here?!¡± Autumn finally coughed out.

    Eme rubbed the back of her head as she awkwardly grinned. ¡°The whole time. I kinda thought you knew! It was boring at first so I took a nap, but then it got kinda awesome~ I¡¯ve never seen something like that!¡±

    Seeing the sincere excitement on Eme¡¯s face, Autumn couldn¡¯t help but grin too. ¡°Yeah? It was kinda cool, wasn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°And then that explosion at the end! Good thing you were pointing it up! Phew~,¡± Eme matched Autumn¡¯s grin.

    A wild look crossed Autumn¡¯s face as she tucked her new wand into her vambrace. Picking herself up off the floor, she held out her right hand to the catgirl on the floor. ¡°Hey, do you want to help me blow a new crater into the mire?¡±

    Eme started before she looked up at the fearless look cresting Autumn¡¯s face. She smiled too.

    ¡°Yeah, sounds fun!¡±

    Dragon bone met dragon bone with a resounding clack as Autumn hauled Eme to her feet.

 Chapter Eighty-Eight: Autumnâ€™s Laundry Service

    ¡°You want to do what?¡±

    The group stared incredulously at a dusty Autumn as they lounged around the bedroom.

    After recovering from the mishap with the ceiling and then subsequently being showered in powdered bone, both Autumn and Eme had hurriedly reconvened with the others in the ancient bedroom to discuss the party¡¯s plans. And while it came as no surprise that they all unanimously voted to camp on this floor for the foreseeable future, her plans to blow the place up when they left garnered far more skepticism.

    ¡°Look, I like a good explosion like any pirate worth their salt, but isn¡¯t that a little too¡­ambitious?¡± Liddie asked from where she sat on the bed beside a reclining Nelva, the pale Lepus propped up by threadbare pillows.

    ¡°Not to mention that we need to escape said explosion, yes?¡± Nelva added.

    ¡°Right, I thought about that.¡±

    Standing up from the plush couch they¡¯d dragged to sit beside the bed, Autumn unrolled the map of the caverns atop the covers for the others to see. Everyone craned their necks as Autumn pointed to the cavern they were in on the map. It sat dead center of the parchment.

    ¡°See this cavern here? This is where we are.¡± Autumn shifted her finger over to a tunnel that fed into the cavern. ¡°And this is the tunnel I came here through, so if you follow my route all the way back.¡± her finger now took on a meandering, zig-zagging path through a variety of disconnected tunnels and past the crystal cavern towards a long river cutting through the map. Autumn jabbed the map. ¡°And this is where I washed up, so if we find the head of the rivers we all came down, we¡¯ll find where we fell and where the rest of the convoy likely is.¡±

    ¡°If they¡¯re still alive.¡± Liddie pointed out.

    Autumn reluctantly nodded. ¡°Yes, if they¡¯re still alive.¡±

    Everyone traced their paths back through the twisting caverns and up the wild rivers until they all came together in a single massive cavern dominated by a great underground lake.

    Autumn smiled. ¡°There, now we know where we¡¯re going.¡±

    ¡°You still haven¡¯t explained about the explosion, or your plan to survive it.¡± Nelva remarked.

    ¡°Right, my plan was to have Edwyn devise a runic bomb that¡¯ll ignite the methane gas¡ªthe miasma¡ªwhen we are far enough away to survive it. Er, if that¡¯s even possible¡ªthe bomb part, not the surviving part.¡±

    Edwyn stroked their beard in thought. ¡°Hmm, it should be possible. You want a timer or something similar made that¡¯ll trigger a fire rune?¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°That¡¯s right. I found a cracked hourglass in the study if that¡¯ll help.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine and all,¡± Liddie interrupted, ¡°but why exactly would we want to blow this place up? We¡¯d lose out on a wealth of dragon materials if we did.¡±

    ¡°Because it¡¯s too dangerous to leave lying around. Just think about it. What¡¯ll happen if someone unscrupulous finds this place? What if it¡¯s another necromancer?¡± Autumn met everyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°All those bodies out there will drown the continent in blood before anyone can stop them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve never claimed to be a saint. Hell, I¡¯ve got a lot of blood on my hands and sins on my back already, but I don¡¯t want to see that future. Do you?¡±

    The group shared a look, but it was Eme that spoke up into the silence.

    ¡°None of us do either. We¡¯ll help you, won¡¯t we?¡± Eme squinted at the others, who gave her chuckles and nods of confirmation. ¡°And besides, the size of the explosion is sure to put a new crater on the map. Maybe they¡¯ll let us name it or something? I was thinking: ¡®The Dusk Wolves¡¯ Pit.¡¯¡±

    ¡°The Necromancer¡¯s Folly.¡± Nelva offered.

    ¡°The Witch¡¯s Cauldron.¡±

    ¡°Pshaw, none of you know how to name things. How about: The Gaping Bunghole!¡± Liddie cackled as everyone booed.

    ¡°How about you, Edwyn?¡± Autumn asked as she turned to them. The Manus seemed content to just sink into the armchair they¡¯d sequestered for themselves. They raised a bushy eyebrow at her question.

    ¡°Ehh. I ain¡¯t really the namin¡¯ type.¡± Edwyn shrugged.

    ¡°Come on~¡± Liddie called, ¡°everyone else had a go!¡±

    Edwyn grumbled, giving the pirate a magnificent stink eye. ¡°I¡¯d just call it somethin¡¯ like: Evidence of Stupidity, the Last Sighting of Morons.¡±

    ¡°Booooo~¡± Liddie complained.

    Autumn laughed as she sat back down beside Eme on the couch, the catgirl snuggling into her side as she did. That was another thing she had to deal with soon. Only, she didn¡¯t know what to do. She couldn¡¯t lie to herself and say she felt nothing for the Felis girl as her abilities disallowed such, since she could literally see her own emotions. And while Autumn knew it wasn¡¯t fair to compare her with Nethlia, she couldn¡¯t help it. Eme provoked more of a soft yearning in her maiden heart compared to the fiery burn Nethlia did.

    She just didn¡¯t know which moved her heart more.

    Shaking those thoughts free, Autumn turned back to the devolving conversation and cleared her throat to gain attention. When the bickering pair finally settled down, she addressed another immediate concern.

    ¡°Liddie, how are we doing for food?¡±

    ¡°Well~ We¡¯re doing better now that there are fewer mouths to feed. What?¡± she asked as everyone stared at her. ¡°You wanted to know. We¡¯ve now got enough dragon meat to last us a few days and enough dried mushrooms and roots for Nelva to eat for a few days longer than that.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Autumn nodded. ¡°It took me roughly ten days to get here, so could you gather up as much meat as you can tomorrow? We can gather mushrooms along the way, but we don¡¯t know when we can next hunt for something we can eat. I¡¯ll lend you my belt of holding if you do.¡±

    Liddie grumbled. ¡°Fineee~ But no more dragon bones!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll still need some for mah runes if you want a bomb made.¡± Edwyn smirked.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°Urgg.¡± Liddie slumped back to look up at Nelva. ¡°No respect for fine works of weaponry, this lot.¡± The Lepus just shook her head with a slight smile.

    ¡°Speaking of,¡± Autumn interrupted the pirate¡¯s whingeing, ¡°we still need to discuss what everyone can use from the armory now that Edwyn has cleared it. Also, we need to figure out how we are getting the other¡¯s bodies out of here.¡±

    ¡°We mightn¡¯t have a choice, lassie.¡± Edwyn answered her grimly. ¡°There are eight bodies and only four of us can even move.¡± Nelva grimaced apologetically at their words. ¡°Even then, carrying bodies is hard work and that¡¯s not even taking into account any monsters or obstacles we¡¯ll run into along the way.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll have to leave them unless your belt can fit them?¡± They asked.

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°Not whole,¡± she winced. ¡°While the largest pouch has got a large enough capacity, the mouth can¡¯t stretch that wide. I don¡¯t know if the shields will fit either.¡± With a pale face, she pleaded with the others. ¡°Please don¡¯t make me shove people-parts into my new belt.¡±

    People-parts? Eme mouthed, horrified

    ¡°What? No! Just what do you see us as? Barbarians?¡± Liddie shook her head exasperated, ¡°no, no, we¡¯ll figure something else out. It¡¯s your belt already, huh?¡±

    ¡°What about a sled?¡± Eme asked, blushing when everyone turned to her. ¡°Back home I¡¯d always make one when it snowed. Why don¡¯t we make one here? We could lash some bones together.¡±

    Edwyn hummed at the idea. ¡°I¡¯ve a design for a levitation rune I was workin¡¯ on. Wit¡¯ some dragon bone, I think it might just work.¡±

    Autumn perked up. ¡°And I¡¯ve got some¡­..er, magic I can use to help!¡±

    Seeing where this was going, Liddie cried.

    Looking aggrieved, she pointed towards Eme. ¡°Why can¡¯t she do it with her fancy new sword, huh?! This is blatant favoritism!¡±

    ¡°Sword? What sword?¡± Eme blinked, confused.

    Autumn shook her head as she folded her arms. ¡°No way, it¡¯s too dangerous out there for her. She needs time to train with it first. And besides, it¡¯s not some butcher¡¯s cleaver.¡±

    ¡°And mine is!¡± Liddie cried.

    ¡°Hey guys? What sword?¡± Eme tried to get a word in edgewise.

    Edwyn grunted from the side. ¡°How about you just use the actual enchanted cleaver, you numbskulls?!¡±

    Immediately, Liddie¡¯s waterworks halted. ¡°Oh yeah. We found one like that, didn¡¯t we?¡±

    Eme shook Autumn by the shoulders. ¡°What swooooord?! Don¡¯t ignore me, Autumn!¡±

    ¡°Ok! Ok! I¡¯ll tell you.¡± Autumn laughed, putting her hands on Eme¡¯s hips to stop her from spilling off the couch in her mad frenzy. ¡°We found a legendary blade, a Katana, in the vault that only you can really use.¡±

    Eme blinked, settling into Autumn¡¯s grip. ¡°What do you mean, only I can use it?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s missing a crossguard, so it¡¯ll hurt a person¡¯s hand if they aren¡¯t careful and, well¡­¡± Autumn gestured to her prosthetic arm awkwardly before pausing. ¡°Wait, you are right-handed, right?¡±

    With a sad expression, Eme replied while her replaced arm encircled the witch¡¯s neck. ¡°Yeah, I¡¯m right-handed, but I¡¯m not much of a sword fighter. I¡¯ve never even touched one before. If you think it¡¯s a good idea¡­¡±

    ¡°I do.¡± Autumn smiled up at her.

    ¡°Urgh, I¡¯m going to barf,¡± Liddie complained, to which Nelva slapped her on the arm admonishingly. Ignoring her, the pirate continued. ¡°You two are nauseating. If you¡¯re gonna kiss, do it elsewhere.¡±

    At her words, Autumn finally noticed that Eme was sitting in her lap, and just how close their faces were. Bright red, the pair separated in a hurry. But when Autumn wasn¡¯t looking, Eme sent a furious glare the pirate¡¯s way for her mockery and the distance that now lay between the pair of girls.

    Eager to move past the awkward situation, Autumn brought up the next point of business.

    ¡°Umm, as you might have noticed, I made a new wand.¡± Autumn drew the Angel-dragon wand from her sleeve with a flourish.

    ¡°That¡¯s what that awful racket was? I thought you two were just getting it on~,¡± Liddie couldn¡¯t resist teasing them some more.

    While Autumn glared at Liddie, wishing she had some spell to turn her into a ferret, Edwyn spoke up. ¡°That¡¯s impressive. I don¡¯t know any mage yer age that could do the same. Ye saved yerself a mighty amount of trouble, ye did. Juist gettin¡¯ an audience with the wandmakers is a ball-ache ¡®n¡¯ a half, or so I¡¯ve heard. Not tae mention the cost of commissioning one. Can ye make any more?¡±

    Autumn blushed at the praise but shook her head sadly. ¡°Sorry, no. There were only enough components for one and the wandmaker¡¯s table broke besides. I still have the guide to wandmaking if you want it.¡±

    ¡°Ye keep it, lassie. The mages¡¯ll pay a mountain of gold for it.¡±

    Autumn smiled before glaring once more at Liddie. ¡°Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to say now that I have a wand again, I can use all my spells.¡±

    Liddie stilled. ¡°Wait, does that mean¡­¡±

    ¡°Yup, Autumn¡¯s laundry service is operational again. Now Liddie, stay still while I test to see if the spell behaves the same when cast by a stronger wand.¡±

    ¡°Wait a moment! I think Edwyn should have the honors as the eldest of the group!¡± Liddie paled as a vindictive witch pointed a black-and-white wand at her. She tried to flee, but like a quick-draw cowboy of the west, Autumn shot her down.

    Putrid grime peeled away from the back of the pirate¡¯s coat to collect in the air as a disgusting ball of swirling foulness. Further filth broke free from a gagging Liddie in a stream until she stood completely clean before them. Cleaner than since they¡¯d entered this hellscape of an underworld.

    Before the putrid orb could taint the bedroom, Autumn flicked it out a window.

    ¡°I¡¯m clean!!!¡± Liddie laughed.

    With a few more flourishing flicks of her wand, the rest of the foulness-marred party were no longer so. Now their clothes were clean, soft, and faintly smelling of lavender. Autumn didn¡¯t know she could do that last part.

    She might have gone overboard in her spring cleaning however, as the room now sparkled. Her cleaning came at the cost of several pillows that¡¯d been more dirt than fabric by this point, but she felt that was a price worth paying to not be breathing in dust all the time. However, that wasn¡¯t the end of Autumn¡¯s tyrannical reign of cleanliness and order, as she soon took to their tattered apparel with her repair charm.

    Cognizant of her earlier gaff, she resisted shouting ¡®Reparo¡¯ with every cast. She didn¡¯t want to add more to her shameful history.

    Autumn frowned as she felt her witch robes. Although she had patched up the immense hole created by the crystal spike, there was now some thinness in that area. She wondered if their long lifespan was finally ending.

    Nelva¡¯s armor was fucked, to put it mildly.

    And even if she patched it using other bones, the process would be too time-consuming and result in an unreliable construction. That wasn¡¯t even mentioning Nelva¡¯s distaste for the idea of using people¡¯s bones in her armor.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Autumn yawned, feeling tired but now fresh and tidy. ¡°Before we rest, I suggest we take care of the bodies. With my wand, I can now prevent their decay, and we can carry them down to the ground floor before we retrieve everything we left behind.¡±

    ¡°Who made you leader?¡± Liddie grumped as she pulled herself to her feet.

    Autumn raised an eyebrow. ¡°What does it matter? We were going to do it anyway.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah.¡± Liddie waved her off as she left the room. ¡°Nelva you stay here and keep the bed warm.¡±

    Nelva cheerily waved them goodbye.

    Over the course of the next two hours, the four weary adventurers carted the wrapped bodies of their former compatriots down the many floors to place them beside the other fallen. There, Autumn gently placed a pair of gold coins upon each of their eyes and recited the quiet, prayer-like spell. In lieu of a god or goddess that Autumn didn¡¯t know, she prayed to the old Ferryman to escort them on. To the fallen, they gave a few parting words before they collected up their camp and marched back up the long stairs.

    Upon returning and being cleansed once more, Liddie collapsed face-first onto the bed she was sharing with Nelva while Edwyn just curled up on their armchair and immediately started snoring.

    Autumn shook her head wryly at her team¡¯s antics as she piled her blankets onto the couch. Sensing the witch¡¯s intent to sleep alone, Eme stared despondently at her back. Her ears and tail drooped sadly as her wide eyes grew wet. Seeing this, Autumn could only sigh and open up her blankets for the catgirl to swiftly rush under. Eme purred softly in content as she wrapped Autumn in a hug and dug her nose into the witch¡¯s neck, breathing in her clean scent as they rested on the comfy bedding.

    If the two kissed once or twice in the gloomy twilight, nobody but them or the ghosts could say.

 Chapter Eighty-Nine: A Grim Santa Claus

    Autumn gave a satisfied nod as the mental lock clicked solidly into place.

    When sleep had finally come for her, she¡¯d fled from sweet dreams to further safeguard her library of thoughts just as the banshee had taught. The once broken door to her forbidden knowledge now loomed sturdy before her, if still a little cracked. All she could do now was wait for it to heal. Interestingly enough, despite all her efforts taking place within the confines of her mind as she slept, she¡¯d still somehow worked up a considerable sweat.

    How that worked, she neither knew nor cared to know.

    And thus, with her work done for the night, the young witch swiftly cast herself from the land of the slumbering and into a new dawn.

    Autumn yawned as she blinked groggily in the dim light. Nobody else seemed to be awake in whatever god awful hour it might¡¯ve been. Yet as she tried to rise, she found herself entangled in a pair of grasping arms that¡¯d wormed their way underneath her clothing as she slept. Taking care not to awaken the catgirl, and/or get clawed, the witch escaped her bonds.

    With quiet footsteps heralding her passage, Autumn slowly made her way to the lounge to prepare a breakfast for herself and her still snoring companions.

    Thankfully, they¡¯d had the foresight to reassemble the runic stove the night before and, as such, Autumn could quickly prepare a breakfast of hearty steaks and grilled mushrooms. And it wasn¡¯t long before the fragrant smells drew the others and they stumbled out half-awake into her domain of cooking.

    ¡°Morning.¡± Autumn called.

    ¡°Morning.¡± Liddie yawned back as she took a plate from Autumn and sat down on the now clean floor to eat. None of the others were any more vocal as they too took their food. Nelva just quietly waved as she limped her way into the lounge, her weight supported by a bleary-eyed Eme.

    Once again, Autumn marveled at a healing potion¡¯s effectiveness. Even just the few drops she¡¯d used were enough to turn months of healing and physical therapy into a bare few days. If they¡¯d used a full one, she¡¯d likely already be fighting fit.

    No wonder they were so damn expensive.

    Nelva let out a small groan even as Eme took care to gently deposit her into one of the few remaining seats. However, her grimace swiftly twisted into a smile of appreciation as a plate of stir-fried mushrooms and root vegetable landed in her hands.

    The quiet clacking of cutlery filled the air alongside some half-awake noises of enjoyment. However, once Autumn was sure they¡¯d eaten their fill and looked more or less awake, she broke the muted atmosphere to garner everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Ok everyone. What are our plans for the day?¡± Autumn¡¯s eyes flickered between each of them, ¡°Edwyn? How long do you reckon you need to make your bomb?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not really a bomb, per se, juist a collection o¡¯ runes, but¡­a day perhaps? Less? By tonight, I¡¯d say.¡± Edwyn grunted as they finished off their steak, looking around hungrily for more.

    Autumn hummed. ¡°Hmm, the sled would take us the same I think. Liddie?¡±

    ¡°Sounds about right.¡± Liddie said as she warded off the Manus from her food, ¡°I¡¯ll go and hack up some meat and bones soon, so I¡¯ll want to borrow your belt. The rest of you can search for more loot.¡±

    ¡°I was planning on it.¡± Autumn nodded to Eme. ¡°We were gonna collect up that alchemy station, and cauldron too, if we even can.¡±

    Eme perked up at hearing this, an extra half of a steak hanging from her fanged mouth. The perks of being on a cooking-witch¡¯s good side. She let out a low growl as the others noticed her second helping.

    In her seat, Nelva shifted uncomfortably as she tried not to aggravate her wounds. ¡°What about me? I can help.¡±

    ¡°What you can do,¡± Liddie pointed to her sternly, ¡°is rest.¡±

    Nelva scowled. ¡°I refuse to be a burden. Let me do something helpful!¡±

    The pair glared fiercely at one another, neither backing down.

    Seeing this Autumn spoke up. ¡°How about you take notes of everything we¡¯ve found so far? We need to do that at some point, right? There is a lot of gold and silver in the vault we need to check.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Nelva breathed out, ¡°but don¡¯t leave me out of things. I want to know what¡¯s going on.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± Liddie reassured her before she clapped loudly. ¡°Now! Let¡¯s cart your butt back to bed so that we can finally sort out who gets the good stuff!¡±

    Like a line of ducklings, the party followed the pirate back into the bedroom and the vault lying within. However, rather than make the injured Nelva trudge into it after them, they brought the gear out to her instead. Heavy chest spilled forth handfuls of gold and silver coins as they dragged them across the slick white floors.

    And as they all plopped themselves tiredly down upon the treasure chests, Autumn started handing out enchanted items like a grim Santa Claus.

    ¡°This one¡¯s for Eme.¡± Autumn carried the Katana over to the nervous catgirl. ¡°Its name is the Snow Demon¡¯s Fang. I¡¯ll transcript the label for you later.¡±

    Eme took the weapon with reverence. ¡°Thank you, but should I really get this?¡±

    Liddie shrugged from atop her gold-filled chest, ¡°who else is gonna use it? We can hash out ownership and other shit like that with the guild when we return.¡±

    With no objections from the others, Autumn quickly claimed both the collection of spell scrolls and the Ferryman¡¯s Lantern ring for herself. The moonstone ring fitted her finger perfectly, as if someone had made it for her.

    Edwyn got the March of the Legion boots, on account of their shorter strides, while Nelva had the choice of either of the shields; Charity, or the Reflection of Kazam. In the end, she took the reflection. Liddie sulkily took the Butcher¡¯s Cleaver, but there was little else she could have as the Swashbuckler¡¯s Boot-blade hadn¡¯t turned up at all in their extensive search.

    As for the rest? Nobody really wanted to wear the cursed stuff, unsurprisingly, so it all got stuffed unceremoniously into the belt of holding.

    ¡°Do you think Nethlia would like these?¡± Autumn pointed to the Corpsedancers boots and the Bloodfeasters gloves.

    Liddie shrugged. ¡°They don¡¯t really fit her aesthetics, but their abilities aren¡¯t bad. They¡¯re not cursed at least. Let her decide when we find her.¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Autumn agreed as she tucked the remaining items into the belt¡¯s larger pouch. She then turned to Nelva, who¡¯d started counting the loose coinage already. ¡°Well¡­see you later?¡±

    ¡°Go, I¡¯ll be fine.¡± She waved them off.

    Leaving their new abode, the group of four trudged once more down the bone steps to the lower floors, only stopping to collect the necromancer¡¯s still unidentified things and the mighty halberd. The sight of the long weapon vanishing into the belt like a magician¡¯s trick brought a smile to Autumn¡¯s face. However, her amusement fled when her eyes landed upon the angel¡¯s crumpled form. The Angel-dragon wand hummed in her sleeve. That feeling reminded her of the inherent power even the parts of its broken body still possessed, and she grew even more resolved to see it gone.

    After all, she wasn¡¯t even sure if it¡¯d been a good idea for her to get access to it.

    Liddie soon split off from the party when they made it down to the laboratory, heading on alone to gather up the meat and bones ahead of them. Reluctantly, Autumn handed over her new belt as she left, emphasizing to the pirate that she was only borrowing it. Liddie just gave her a cheeky wave as she disappeared down the steps.

    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    Before they started dismantling the massive alchemical setup, Autumn made a series of detailed sketches, including annotations of which parts slotted in where. Once confident in her drawings, they swiftly got to work. However, her thoughts continually drifted to the cauldron dominating the space behind her.

    The elemental undead roared in a silent fury at the sight of them.

    It had to go. But how?

    There was no guarantee that the impending explosion would kill it.

    The logical solution was simply to banish it with her newfound scroll. However, Autumn felt reluctant to do so as it represented a way home for her, something she¡¯d been fighting for all this time. Sure, the wish spell buried in the Tome of Witchcraft promised the same, but this was in her hand right now. And while she wasn¡¯t certain, she assumed the spell-scrolls were a onetime use, like in the games her father had played.

    But, she had no assurances that the dark things from this world or between wouldn¡¯t just follow her home. She couldn¡¯t do that to her foster family nor Earth.

    When the last of the alchemy station came apart, Autumn turned her attention fully to the black cauldron and the foul concoction still bubbling away within it. And with but a few flicks of her wand, she scoured it completely clean. Now all she needed to do was read. Read and send the undead elemental back to whence it¡¯d come, once and for all.

    Autumn hesitated, her hand gripping the spell scroll tight.

    ¡°You ready, lassie?¡± Edwyn asked behind her.

    A thousand rampant thoughts ran through Autumn¡¯s mind, but she simply nodded and unrolled the scroll to let the magic bloom.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes flickered across the velum as she recited the spell emblazoned upon it. Words of unmatched power leapt free of the page in her tight grip and flowed into her consciousness, allowing her to warp the world to suit her needs, to suit her wants.

    She felt like a god.

    One who could understand magic completely.

    The air rippled around her before the space above the elemental tore open with a great rending screech, like nails on a chalkboard or a pane of glass shattering. The elemental of undeath roared in silence as it clung desperately to the cauldron¡¯s bindings. But like the cruel god she was, Autumn only looked disinterested in its resistance and uttered the last word of the spell.

    ¡°Begone.¡±

    And with a loud ¡®pop¡¯, the elemental was gone.

    A shrunken cauldron made a loud clattering as it hit the ground. With a width that now matched Autumn¡¯s torso, it was light enough that she could lug it around with little trouble. Although she still lamented a lack of shrinking charm available to her. She made a mental note to look into that later.

    That wasn¡¯t the only thing left behind however, as the spell¡¯s last word still burned in her mind.

    ¡°You good?¡± Eme asked as she approached.

    Autumn shook the fuzziness from her head. ¡°Yeah, it just took a bit out of me, is all.¡± She offered the catgirl a reassuring smile. ¡°Shall we head down now? We can pack up all this alchemy stuff once we get my belt back.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Eme nodded. ¡°After you.¡±

    After making their way down to the ground floor, the group split up to accomplish their various tasks. With Edwyn¡¯s task being to craft a reliable time-bomb with their runecraft, they sequestered themselves in a quiet corner with some bones Liddie¡¯d already dropped off. On the other side, Autumn and Eme took responsibility for the construction of the grim sled they¡¯d use to transport the dead and excess loot in their escape.

    Hours of hard work slipped Autumn by, giving her ample practice in her new spell, Bone Grafting. And while her wand didn¡¯t quite like the necromancy spell, it cooperated enough, seeing as how she wasn¡¯t using it in pursuit of undeath.

    By the time they finished for the day, the pair had a rather impressive looking sled sitting in the tower¡¯s foyer ¡ª well, more of a sleigh given its size. All it needed now was Edwyn¡¯s levitation enchantment.

    Not to pat herself too much on the back, but Autumn felt she¡¯d done a good job on the sleigh. She¡¯d melded the bones together into a single white construction to not look too much like a necromancer¡¯s cart, but she wasn¡¯t so sure that it¡¯d stand up to intense scrutiny. The key factor was that it held enough space inside for the bodies and loot without being too wide to fit out the front door.

    That¡¯d have been embarrassing to figure out in the morning, and she was glad that she¡¯d checked before they¡¯d started building it.

    In what felt like a blink, Autumn found herself back before the runic stove, preparing the group¡¯s dinner of dragon steaks and mushrooms again. The same meal they¡¯d had for breakfast and dinner for the past few days.

    She stared sadly down at her skillet before addressing the others. ¡°You know, I never thought I¡¯d say this, but I think I¡¯m getting sick of eating steaks all the time, and maybe just meat in general.¡±

    Liddie snorted. ¡°I can¡¯t say I know what that¡¯s like, but I could definitely do with a nice meat bun right about now.¡±

    ¡°I know some nice shops in Duskfields that mainly cater to Lepus that I could show you?¡± Nelva offered, as she gracefully ate her vegetarian meal.

    Autumn perked up. ¡°Yeah? That sounds nice. Although, I could do without any mushrooms too for a while.¡±

    ¡°How about we hold a team party when we get back?¡± Liddie asked before smirking at Eme. ¡°You¡¯re invited too, kitty cat.¡±

    Eme gave a rumbling growl to the pirate as her ears flattened and her tail swished angrily. However, before she could pounce, Autumn interrupted her.

    ¡°Settle down, you two.¡± She gave each a light glare. ¡°Do we have anything left to do here before we leave in the morning? We collected up the alchemy stuff before and most of the loot we found. Anything that didn¡¯t fit in the belt we¡¯ve put inside the sleigh. Have I forgotten anything?¡± When nobody offered anything, she turned to Nelva, ¡°Nelva? How much was in the chests?¡±

    Nelva swallowed her meal before speaking. ¡°While I didn¡¯t get through it all, from my estimates we are looking at about 10,000g¡ª¡± Everyone broke out into cheers, cutting her off. She raised her voice to be heard over the din. ¡°However! That¡¯s just an estimate based mainly on the weight and volume. Given that it¡¯s not imperial coinage, we can¡¯t be sure of its quality until we get it appraised. Or, rather, the guild does.¡±

    ¡°Umm, not to be a killjoy, but isn¡¯t gold and silver really heavy? We had trouble just moving it all before.¡± Autumn pointed out. ¡°And I don¡¯t know if the belt has enough space for that all, and the sleigh might not either with all the bodies.¡±

    Liddie shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not that bad. If we move most of the gold into your belt, we can see what remains in the chests. We can always leave the silver behind if we must. Speaking of,¡± she turned to Edwyn, ¡°how goes the bomb?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s done.¡± Edwyn grunted. ¡°I gave it as long a timer as I could, about two hours or so. I reckon we leave it at the exit, then book it. We ought tae make it clear in time.¡±

    ¡°Says the one that just got marching boots.¡± Liddie scoffed. ¡°Alright then, everyone get to bed on time! We got a big day ahead of us.¡±

    ¨C

    Autumn breathed out heavily as she stood before the doors leading out of the tower of bone and black-iron. Beside her hovered a fully loaded sleigh containing their fallen dead, their gear, and whatever loot wouldn¡¯t fit inside Autumn¡¯s new belt. A few chests of the remaining gold and silver weighed down the back alongside her new cauldron while Nelva sat at the head, tasked with monitoring their things and warding off any scavengers that might take a liking to the relevantly fresh bodies.

    From the front, Liddie turned back to them all, a scarf wrapped around her lower face. ¡°Everyone ready?¡± she called. ¡°Anyone need to piss? Cause we aren¡¯t stopping once we get moving.¡±

    Seeing as nobody did, she nodded to them before thrusting open the heavy black-iron doors out into the graveyard of heroes and kings. The sight of putrid plains and hills wasn¡¯t one Autumn wanted to see so soon again, much less traverse ¡ª or smell. But traverse it, she did. The rope around her waist pulled taut as they dragged the sleigh out into the nightmare terrain, ruining their boots once more.

    Their journey across the squelching ground did not go unnoticed and soon a flock of giant murderous crows descended upon them.

    Autumn launched her jinxes at the flock like gunfire, her new wand relishing in the chance. The purple light slammed into the crows, sending them spiraling down on broken wings. And of those few that swooped through her blanket of AA fire, the witch just gave them a dispassionate stare and simply said.

    ¡°Begone¡±

    And like a giant had flicked them, they disappeared in a puff of blood and feathers.

    Autumn grinned at the sight even as her head pounded and her nose bled.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could do that.¡± Nelva said as she watched the fluttering feathers.

    ¡°Neither did I.¡±

    Very few scavengers felt confident enough to bother them after that, and before too long, they reached the end of the cavern. A yawning tunnel now spread out before them, blacker than sin. According to the map, it¡¯d lead them back the way they¡¯d come and to where they hoped the convoy still was. Turning back to the necromancer¡¯s tower in the distance, Autumn gave it the middle finger as Edwyn embedded the runic bomb in the muck. The runemaster flicked over a cracked hourglass, and as the dark sand fell, they bellowed at the group.

    ¡°Alright! It¡¯s active! We got two-ish hours tae get out of here!¡±

    ¡°Two-ish!!! You said two to three!¡± Liddie yelled as they all started running.

    ¡°I said Two-ish! Two-ish!¡±

    Autumn cackled in fright and amusement as the Ferryman¡¯s Lantern lit up the path ahead of them, scaring the poor catgirl who dogged her heels. Slightly mad with magic, the witch began to sing as she pulled the sleigh on.

    ¡°Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer;

    Had a very shiny nose.

    And if you ever saw it;

    You would even say it glows.¡±

    From atop the floating sleigh of bones, Nelva sighed and looked fondly at them all. ¡°It was nice knowing you all.¡±

 Chapter Ninety: A Whomping from Below

    A rare rainless day bloomed over the mire. Bright sunlight broke through the once perpetual sky of rain clouds to shimmer across the muddy waters filled with the buzz of insects. They danced and weaved in their search of food or simply a place to lay eggs in the murk. Spiders spun their nets to catch what they could, buoyed by the brief respite from pounding rain.

    The song of the swamp rang loud in the early morning dew.

    A pair of eyes emerged from the muddy water. Slowly, a small green frog, barely a hand-and-a-half large, crept from the murk to perch upon a small rock that broke the surface. It stared hungrily over the secluded pond bordered by tall fronds and teeming with a mass of water-bugs and other insects. The little frog licked its lips before its tongue lashed out quick like lightning, catching a lonesome dragonfly that¡¯d drawn too close to the mighty amphibian.

    The little frog croaked contentedly as it chewed.

    However, all was not well in its newfound kingdom as, from the water, emerged another small frog. A rival.

    The little frog glared as the rival perched itself upon another rock and ate up the little frog¡¯s royal game. With rising anger, the little frog puffed up as they prepared to challenge this unscrupulous invader. And as the little frog let out their resonant, bellowing croak¡­

    ¡­the ground below the rival frog bowed upwards before the little frog¡¯s world exploded.

    A city¡¯s worth of mud and rock roared into the sky in an enormous, towering column, displaced by a thunderous explosion. Boulders the size of castles soared unfettered through the clouds before coming crashing back down like meteors. Their impact caused tidal waves of brackish water to sweep away the panicking wildlife and rip the mire trees from their roots. The resounding tremors of fury caused by the cataclysmic explosion rippled out through the mire all the way to the unaware town of Bogward.

    The imperial citizens of the sleepy town quaked in terror as the sight of the calamitous pillar piercing the heavens greeted them. A swift deafening roar reinforced their terror as it ripped through the town, bringing with it a great earthquake. Cries of panic rocked the air as the surrounding buildings splintered and cracked while the docks below twisted in a storm of lashing waves. Early morning fishermen and fisherwomen hastily abandoned their nets and catches to scramble for the crumbling docks as their boats snapped and broke beneath them.

    The devastating tremors sent loose pottery and other breakables smashing to the ground with equal disdain. However, the citizens hardly had time to care as far-flung rocks came crashing down around them. Further panicked cries filled the air as the heavy rocks broke straight through roofs and bridges around the mostly floating town with thunderous might.

    And in the center of the disaster-struck town stood a party of adventurers helping fraught parents to usher the crying children to safety. Sent to investigate the disappearance of the convoy, they now watched in awe and fear as a new crater was born in the mire.

    In the depths of the earth, the tunnels closest to the explosion collapsed in a torrent of fractured rock. It cascaded down in fury, burying all beneath its ponderous weight. And after the tremors finally passed, everything was motionless except for the slight shifts of dust in the air and the settling of rocks and pebbles.

    But while naught moved, purple light shone through the cracks.

    Autumn gritted her teeth as she kept the rocks at bay with a fluctuating spell-shield. She¡¯d cast it at the last moment as the party cowered atop the floating bone sleigh. Hot sweat dripped down her spine as she pushed her spell beyond its limits.

    ¡°If we die here, I¡¯m going to kill you, Edwyn,¡± Liddie grumbled as she eyed the shifting rocks above her.

    Edwyn ignored her as they started carving runes into the floor below the sleigh. ¡°It¡¯s not the first cave-in I¡¯ve bin in.¡± They grunted before addressing Autumn. ¡°Lassie, Imma needin¡¯ ye tae hold on for a spot. I¡¯ll have us settled in a mo.¡±

    ¡°Hurry! I don¡¯t know how long I can hold on,¡± Autumn said as her mind burned and blood dribbled from her nose.

    The runecaster just nodded and picked up their pace. When they¡¯d carved the last rune into the stone beneath them, all the runes lit up and sent magic snaking out into the rocks, sealing them together. And as the now solid dome settled into place, Edwyn called out to Autumn. ¡°We¡¯re safe for now. Ye can let go of yer spell.¡±

    Autumn tentatively relaxed and, upon seeing the roof hold, she let go of her magic fully. The spell¡¯s backlash hit her hard, and she slumped into Nelva and Eme¡¯s hold. A faint ringing resounded in her ears.

    Liddie coughed away the dust in her lungs as she stood up at the head of the sleigh, bathed in the light of Autumn¡¯s ring. She took in the dusty but still alive party seated before her.

    ¡°Well, that was sure a blast~ Now, how are we getting out of this one? Ideas?¡±

    Edwyn spoke up as they dusted off their hands. ¡°Aye, like I said, this ain¡¯t mah first cave-in. I¡¯ve spent some years minin¡¯ in the undermountain, so I can get us thro¡¯ the rubble no problem, but it¡¯ll take a while.¡±

    ¡°I can help.¡± Autumn spoke up, even as her head spun.

    ¡°Nah, ye done enough for now.¡± Edwyn waved her off. ¡°Juist lay back ¡¯n¡¯ rest.¡±

    Autumn slumped back dizzily, only for Nelva to chuckle lightly at her. Staring up, she met the Lepus¡¯ gaze. ¡°What?¡± the witch asked.

    ¡°Nothing, just welcoming you to the invalid cart, I guess.¡± Nelva smiled, to which Autumn huffed.

    For the next several hours, the group painstakingly dug their way through the collapsed tunnel using a mixture of Edwyn¡¯s runes and physical labor. First, they¡¯d solidify the tunnel like they¡¯d done to save them all, before softening the rocks to an almost clay-like consistency for the others to dig out of the way.

    And while Autumn wanted to help, she grew increasingly dizzy every time she tried to sit up. Thankfully, her fit of magical fatigue only lasted a few hours, and when she finally came round, it was just when they started hearing voices beyond their tunnel.

    ¡°Shh,¡± Liddie whispered, putting her ear to the wall.

    Autumn¡¯s fingers tensed around her freshly drawn wand. Was it more lion-headed monsters? She wondered. Or something more sinister that¡¯d lurked in the far depths of the underworld, broken free with their quaking? Had they dug too deep?

    A loud, familiar voice boomed through the rock, undeterred by their presence. ¡°Hey! Anyone alive down there? We heard you digging! Are you from the convoy?¡±

    It was Nethlia.

    Liddie let out a laugh. ¡°Yeah?! Is that you, Captain?! Boy, am I glad to hear your voice and not another horrible monster clawing its way to eat me!¡±

    ¡°Liddie?¡± Nethlia called back, ¡°And here I thought you were another cat-headed cannibal! Anyone else in there with you? Do you know where the others are?¡±

    ¡°Everyone else is with me! And while we do have a cat with us, the only person she ate was¡ª¡±

    The pirate was cut off as Autumn tumbled down from the sleigh and rushed over to the rock wall. Pressing herself up against it, she yelled to be heard through the layers. ¡°Nethlia!! I¡¯m alive! Are you ok?! Is Pyre with you?! Is she¡­¡±

    There was a slight pause before Nethlia¡¯s voice came back through. ¡°...Autumn? Thank Nusraura that you¡¯re ok. I¡¯m fine and Pyre¡¯s fine too. She¡¯s recovering back at camp. In fact, she woke up a few days ago.¡±

    Autumn breathed a sigh of relief.

    The last time she¡¯d seen the alchemist, the flame-haired girl had a large piece of shrapnel embedded into her skull. While she¡¯d tried not to think the worst, Autumn had privately harbored the belief that it¡¯d ended the poor girl.

    ¡°Alright!¡± Nethlia yelled from beyond the wall. ¡°Stand back! You guys do what you can from your end and we¡¯ll dig you out from this side!¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    With her long-lost friend only a rocky wall away, Autumn was far too impatient to sit still. Instead, she dived into helping the excavation by turning the shadows beneath it into black water. When Edwyn next softened the wall, the rest of the group just dumped what they could of it into the fathomless depths. And within moments, the last of the wall cracked and Autumn got a look at a face she¡¯d not see for about fifteen days.

    Nethlia smiled as she looked through the gap at the party, brushing her roughly trimmed locks out of her face as she spoke. ¡°Hey, hey. Fancy meeting you all here.¡±

    Unable to contain her tears any longer, Autumn launched herself at the tall berserker, squeezing through the hole to cling onto Nethlia¡¯s neck like her life depended on it. While initially surprised, Nethlia soon comforted the sobbing witch by holding her tight. ¡°There, there,¡± She said as she stroked her back, ¡°you¡¯re alright now.¡±

    From beside the bone sleigh, Eme watched on sullenly.

    ¡°Hey, did you get skinnier?¡± Nethlia asked as she set Autumn back down on her feet.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn sniffled, wiping at her teary eyes with her sleeve. ¡°I ran out of food for a bit. What about you? How come you¡¯re still so fit¡ªer, I mean, not skinny?¡±

    And indeed, she wasn¡¯t skinny at all. Nethlia stood as tall, proud, and muscular as she had the day they¡¯d parted. However, fresh scars now adorned her body, adding to the already imposing collection all across her rippling abdomen and bulging biceps and thighs. And while her barbarian-style hide armor had been purposefully rugged before, it was now far more shredded and torn, barely providing the towering berserker any semblance of decency.

    With great effort, Autumn tore her eyes back up to meet Nethlia''s mirthful ones.

    ¡°Good food and wonderful exercise.¡± Nethlia winked. ¡°The Swamp Tyrant came down with us, so we¡¯ve been eating that for the past couple of days and we got pressured a lot by those cat-headed under-dwellers. What about you guys?¡± she asked, looking over the skinnier group with concern. ¡°You said you ran out of food at one point?¡±

    Autumn shared an awkward look with the others. ¡°Well, that¡¯s a long story. But, to cut it short, we didn¡¯t all wash up together and it took a few days before we found each other. Where we did, there was some¡ªa lot of¡­meat lying around.¡± An idea perked the witch up. ¡°Hey, tell you what; how about I trade with you? I¡¯m sick of eating the same thing for days.¡±

    ¡°While I don¡¯t like how you paused there,¡± Nethlia nervously chuckled, ¡°I¡¯m kinda getting sick of the tyrant meat myself. It¡¯s very gamey.¡±

    Liddie laughed as she stuck her head through the hole Autumn¡¯d leapt through. ¡°Captain, you¡¯ve no idea. Anyway, we can catch up later. For now, could we get a move on? I don¡¯t want this tunnel to come down upon us again.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Nethlia nodded. ¡°Do you guys know what happened? What caused that explosion?¡±

    ¡°Well, about that¡­¡± Autumn nervously laughed while none of the others would meet their captain¡¯s eye.

    A deep sigh escaped Nethlia as she rubbed her eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you lot?¡­No, it can wait. First, let''s get you all out of there.¡±

    Over the next few minutes, they steadily widened the hole enough so that even their levitating bone sleigh could fit through it. And while Nethlia looked in askance as it passed her by, she said nothing. Now that she¡¯d calmed down, Autumn saw that her friend hadn¡¯t been alone. Behind her lingered a small scouting party of adventurers and guardsmen. The sight of them reminded her of the fallen still on the sled.

    ¡°Um Nethlia,¡± Autumn whispered as she drew the berserker aside.

    Nethlia looked at her questioningly. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°We weren¡¯t exactly alone, but¡­well¡­¡± Autumn nodded to the sleigh. ¡°We could only recover some of the bodies, the others¡­I don¡¯t even know if their bodies would still be there.¡± she ran her sleeve over her watering eyes. ¡°We did recover a lot of loot so we set aside some gold and silver for their share, but¡­I don¡¯t¡­know what to do past this point.¡±

    ¡°Hey, hey. I¡¯ve got it.¡± Nethlia reassured the witch, ¡°Just leave it to me. As the team captain, this falls under my responsibility.¡±

    However, Autumn shook her head resolutely. ¡°No, I think I need to do this. To tell their group what happened, but¡­I¡¯m scared.¡±

    Nethlia took in the witch that¡¯d grown in her absence, took in the steel in her eyes and in her spine. ¡°Alright, but if you need help, just ask. Okay?¡±

    ¡°Okay.¡± Autumn sniffled.

    ¡°Now, how about you tell me what this explosion was about, and how much trouble you guys got into.¡± Nethlia promoted her as they walked along.

    ¡°Hey now~,¡± Liddie interrupted. ¡°We were on our best behavior. Wasn¡¯t that right, Nelva? Edwyn?¡±

    ¡°The best,¡± Nelva said in a deadpan, who was swiftly followed up by Edwyn. ¡°We didnae do nothin¡¯¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure.¡± Nethlia looked at the three of them disbelievingly. ¡°How about you really tell me what happened, Autumn?¡±

    ¡°Alright.¡± Autumn cleared her throat. ¡°For starters, we didn¡¯t just blow a random cavern up for fun. It was a necromancer¡¯s lair full, and I mean full, of corpses. We even fought an undead angel inside!¡± Looking around for Eme, Autumn saw her listlessly following behind. She swiftly pulled the catgirl to parade her proudly in front of Nethlia. ¡°And Eme here saved my life! She tore out the angel¡¯s throat and everything! Without her I¡¯d be a goner.¡±

    Not expecting to be placed before the towering, muscular berserker, Eme froze in fright, her ears and tail shooting straight up as Nethlia took her in.

    ¡°You did, did you?¡± Nethlia smiled gratefully at Eme, causing the catgirl to blush. ¡°You have my thanks.¡±

    ¡°hehee~,¡± Eme giggled at the praise, her tail falling into a lazy curl, ¡°well, she made me this arm, so I couldn¡¯t just let her get killed.¡± Saying so, she showed off the dragon bone prosthetic.

    ¡°Yeah? I know she¡¯s a handful, so thank you once more.¡± Nethlia patted the catgirl on the head, causing her to melt under the touch. Autumn looked on incredulously. However, Nethlia just continued. ¡°I know Captain Gilralei was worried about you. She¡¯ll be happy to see that you¡¯re alive.¡±

    Hearing the name of her captain sobered up Eme, and she took Nethlia''s hand away to look up at her. ¡°She¡¯s alive? And was worried about me?¡± Eme bit her lip. ¡°I don¡¯t know how to tell her the others are gone.¡±

    ¡°I can come with you.¡± Autumn offered. ¡°After all, I was there when Leshana and Vuriac¡­¡±

    ¡°No. I have to do it myself. I want to do it myself.¡± Eme said as she stared off into the distance with watering eyes.

    Autumn nodded sadly. ¡°I understand.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m proud of you two!¡± Nethlia beamed as she clapped them on the shoulders.

    Eme stared up at her, bewildered. She pointed a finger at herself. ¡°Me?¡±

    ¡°Sure! I got enough pride to go around.¡± Nethlia laughed heartily, but even as she did, her grip turned to iron on their shoulders. ¡°Now, tell me; who¡¯s dumb idea was it to set an explosion off while you were still in blast radius?¡±

    The pair shared a look as Nethlia marched them along and unanimously decided to sell the runecaster out.

    ¡°¡°It was Edwyn!¡±¡±

    ¡°Ach! Come on! I said ¡®two-ish hours¡¯! ¡®Two-ish¡¯!¡±

    Nethlia shook her head at Edwyn. ¡°It¡¯ll get to you later.¡± Turning to the whole group she said, ¡°while I don¡¯t necessarily agree with how you went about it, I understand why you did it. Still, try not to blow things up without consulting me in the future, please?¡±

    ¡°We didn¡¯t trust anyone else with the stuff we left behind,¡± Autumn said resolutely. ¡°Hell, I don¡¯t trust anyone else with the stuff that we took! And we took a lot! Anything that wasn¡¯t cursed, we are using for now. There¡¯s even some stuff you might like!¡±

    While out of view from the others not in their group, Autumn pulled out the enchanted gloves and boots while explaining what they did to Nethlia. However, to the witch¡¯s surprise, Nethlia didn¡¯t want them and when asked why, she explained it simply.

    ¡°Because I¡¯m not trained in it. Sure, the movement buff would be nice, but if I¡¯m not used to it, it¡¯ll throw me off in a crucial moment. Also, this sort of enchantment can become a crutch, and if you lose it or change items, you¡¯ll have to retrain yourself.¡±

    ¡°What about the gloves?¡± Autumn offered the spiked gloves to her.

    Nethlia shrugged. ¡°That one¡¯s simpler. There¡¯s nothing to say that I¡¯ll be protected from the bleed effects, so if I accidentally cut myself while swinging my hammer, I¡¯ll be in trouble. While it isn¡¯t cursed, the effects are dangerous enough by themselves.¡±

    ¡°Oh, makes sense,¡± Autumn said, putting away the items quietly. ¡°What about Pyre? You said she was awake?¡±

    Nethlia nodded. ¡°I fished her out of the lake when we fell in before she could drown, but being an Ignis, she suffered for it. Not only was she recovering from the head wound, but she fell ill from the cold as well. Thankfully, she pulled through. She¡¯s¡­a little lost at the moment¡ªmentally, not physically.¡±

    ¡°I hope she gets better,¡± Autumn said. ¡°You said something about the ¡®cat-headed cannibals¡¯ before. We¡¯ve met them,¡± she gestured to herself and Eme, the catgirl clutching at her dragon bone arm as she remembered. ¡°Have you had much trouble with them, too?¡±

    ¡°A little, but nothing I can¡¯t handle.¡± Nethlia grinned as she flexed her biceps. Both girls couldn¡¯t help but drool slightly. ¡°They keep trying to raid our encampment no matter how many we kill. We¡¯ve tried looking for their settlement, but we¡¯ve had no such luck.¡±

    ¡°I doubt they have one,¡± Autumn said with a grimace. ¡°They¡¯re not people, not like you or I. They¡¯re thieves of the highest order, only looking to take and eat.¡±

    ¡°Right? Anyway, it¡¯s fine. Just trying to find our way around this hells-damned place is a right pain. No need to add any more trouble to our plates, or so Captain Arsit says.¡± Nethlia sighed.

    ¡°Oh? I think I can help with that!¡± Autumn rummaged through her pouch and pulled free the map, holding it above her like a trophy. ¡°Da da da daaaa dun dun daaaadun! Here¡¯s one map of the underground!¡±

    Nethlia blinked, amused at Autumn¡¯s antics. ¡°You¡¯ve gotten more lively, huh?¡±

    Autumn lowered her hand as she stared hollowly at the surrounding walls. ¡°I¡¯m coping. Just¡­trying to find the fun in things.¡± She turned to look at both Nethlia and Eme, looking at her with concern. Quickly, she rubbed her eyes free of tears and laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t mind me. I¡¯ll be fine. Besides, I¡¯ve got more important issues to deal with soon than losing my sanity.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡± Eme asked.

    ¡®Like which one of you do I sleep next to? ¡­.both? Is that too greedy?¡¯ She thought to herself.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    Autumn huffed in her mind at the banshee. ¡®I wasn¡¯t asking you!!!¡±

 Chapter Ninety-One: Soft-Hearted Na?ve

    Four days later.

    Autumn marveled at the encampment as she strode into the enormous cavern where her underground journey had all started. Over the past nineteen days, the adventurers and guardsmen had worked tirelessly to turn their small part of the cavern into a temporary home. Gone were the loose rocks and haphazardly placed tents along the lakeside, replaced instead by worked streets and organized rows that figures buzzed about. Gone too was the massive carcass of the Swamp Tyrant ¡ª not that Autumn had witnessed such ¡ª the butchers had left only blood-slick stones and its towering bones.

    And it was those very bones that the adventurers and guardsmen had used alongside some flotsam timber to craft a mighty wall around the encampment. Wooden spikes lined the base of the wall, running right from shore to shore, only leaving a small strip of land free that led right to the gates.

    A pair of stout guardsmen stood atop the wall with bows in hand as they eyed the group approaching. While initially nervous at the sight of a larger group than they¡¯d been expecting, they relaxed upon seeing Nethlia and the other scouts. One guard let out a shrill whistle and the gate slowly swung open.

    ¡°Hail!¡± a tall Inferni guardsman called down to them.

    Nethlia held up a hand in reply. ¡°Hail to you too! Did anything happen while I was away? And where can I find Captain Arsit?¡±

    ¡°Aside from that great rumbling four days back? Nothing other than a few cat-headed freaks assaulting the walls,¡± the guardsman said as he eyed the expanded group. ¡°I see you¡¯ve had some luck.¡±

    Nethlia shrugged. ¡°Found them wandering about. I need to see the captain. Do you know where he is or not?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah. He¡¯s in the command tent last I heard,¡± he said, waving them through before yelling to the other guard. ¡°Close the gate!¡±

    Autumn jumped as the gate slammed shut. Looking around, she saw idle adventurers and guardsmen glancing their way with curiosity and hope. Hope that was quickly extinguished when they didn¡¯t see their lost friends ¡ª their broken eyes turning away.

    The sizable group steadily made their way through the quiet encampment towards where the command tent dwelt. A few sullen faces watched their passing; nary a word said in greeting. Slowly, the others in Nethlia¡¯s scouting party silently dispersed, leaving only Autumn¡¯s group to make their way to the center.

    Within the empty square at the heart of the camp, there were two large tents. The few remaining wounded occupied one tent, within which blazed Pyre¡¯s hair, while the other was the command tent they sought.

    Coming to a halt, Nethlia pointed towards individual members of the party one after the other. ¡°Liddie, take Nelva into the medical tent for a checkup. Edwyn, you unpack the cart-sled-thing. Grab anyone around to help you, just keep an eye out that things don¡¯t go missing, yeah? And you, Autumn, are with me.¡±

    ¡°Um, Autumn?¡± Eme hesitantly called out to the witch, drawing her attention. ¡°I¡¯m gonna go looking for my captain to tell her what happened to the others. I guess this is goodbye for now?¡±

    Autumn started at her words. ¡°Oh, um¡­take care? I mean, I¡¯ll see you around, ok?¡±

    The pair shared an awkward moment, not really sure what they were meant to do. Words unspoken danced on their lips. Feeling impulsive, Autumn quickly drew the catgirl into a tight hug, to which Eme melted into the embrace. But their tenderness was short-lived, and they soon reluctantly distanced themselves.

    With tears gathering in her eyes, Eme hurriedly dashed off, waving goodbye as she went. ¡°I¡¯ll come find you later! I promise!¡±

    Autumn just waved.

    ¡°You good?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°She took the legendary sword with her,¡± Autumn said with a laugh, eyes lingering on the catgirl¡¯s retreating form. ¡°She¡¯s pretty great, you know? And I owe her for saving my life. I lo¡­Let¡¯s just go talk to Captain Arsit, yeah?¡±

    When Autumn entered the command tent, her eyes landed upon the hunched form of Captain Arsit as he idly made notes on top of a crude map. Stress had aged him, the hair around his temples and fur on his ears having grown a shade lighter since she¡¯d last seen him. Hearing their sudden entrance, he looked up.

    ¡°Ah, Nethlia, you¡¯ve returned. And with¡­Witch Autumn, wasn¡¯t it? While it¡¯s good to see you¡¯re alive, I hope you two have some good news for me.¡±

    ¡°Some, but bad news first. Would you like to have a seat?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Captain Arsit sighed. ¡°No, I¡¯ll stand.¡± A set of steely eyes slid over to meet Autumn¡¯s, causing the witch to sweat. Straightening his spine, the Lepus stood tall as he awaited her report. ¡°I already know what you are going to say, but let us hear it.¡±

    Nethlia gave Autumn an encouraging nod.

    Breathing deeply, Autumn spoke. ¡°U-unfortunately, dur-during the events of the past f-few days, Adventurers Delight, G¨¦r?me, Leshana, Vuriac, Bardos, Rarg, Val¨¦rie, Sverr, Roland, Evrard, Nizana, and Illiamtree lost their lives alongside f-five members of the Duskguard¡­I-I only knew the name of one ¡ª Yuupis.

    ¡°We only managed to recover some of their bodies,¡± she finished.

    The Lepus captain closed his eyes with another sigh. A vast depth of emotions flashed behind his stony mask, almost too fast for even Autumn to catch. Slowly, Captain Arsit opened his eyes again.

    ¡°Thank you for informing me of the situation. At least we know now of everyone¡¯s fate.¡±

    ¡°Nobody else is missing?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°We fished the last missing Rain Knight up yesterday ¡ª sank like a stone in her armor,¡± he said with another sigh, craving a drink he didn¡¯t have. ¡°This quest is a fucking disaster. Of the forty-two adventurers we started with, only twenty-four remain ¡ª six of the ten knights drowned in their armor ¡ª and of the thirty guardsmen we took with us¡­we have eight left.¡±

    Autumn gulped as the death toll washed over her. Across from her, the captain¡¯s knuckles whitened on the desk before his eyes flickered back up to Nethlia. ¡°You said ¡ª well, you implied that you had good news for me?¡± he said, almost pleadingly.

    Nethlia nodded. ¡°Yes. Show him the map, Autumn.¡±

    Hurrying forward with the map in hand, Autumn swiftly unrolled it onto the table, covering the cruder version. Captain Arsit leant forwards to gaze down upon it.

    ¡°What am I looking at?¡± he asked incredulously.

    ¡°It¡¯s a map,¡± Autumn said, but at the captain¡¯s raised eyebrow, she hurriedly explained. ¡°Of the caverns and tunnels, is what I meant. Although, it might be a little out-of-date.¡±

    The captain grunted as he compared Autumn¡¯s map with the one he¡¯d been making. Upon seeing its accuracy, or at least their place on the map, his steely eyes flickered with a spark of life as he stared back up at Autumn.

    ¡°And how exactly did you get this?¡± he asked.

    Autumn gulped. ¡°I found it in a necromancer¡¯s tower. But the tower¡­it, umm¡­blew up, along with the cavern it was in.¡±

    ¡°That was you, then?¡± Captain Arsit pinned her with a stare before sighing once again and muttering to himself. ¡°Rookies. Why am I not surprised?¡± Turning his attention back to the map, he scoured it for any identifying landmarks and, upon seeing a series of symbols he could not parse, he pointed them out to Autumn. ¡°Do you know what any of these mean? Nethlia said you were some kind of language specialist.¡±

    Startled, Autumn glanced at Nethlia, who gave her an encouraging look back. With that comfort buoying her, the witch crept up to the map and told the captain what they were. ¡°Those are¡­exits.¡±

    ¡°Exits?¡± the captain repeated, his intent eyes locked onto the one closest ¡ª the one within hag Mildred¡¯s domain.

    Autumn hesitated. ¡°Yes¡­.¡± Hot sweat trickled down her back as she gazed down at the map. Behind her, she could feel Nethlia''s gaze upon her back. Was it her imagination, or were the berserker¡¯s eyes filled with disappointment? Autumn¡¯s lips trembled as she forced the words out of her clenching throat. ¡°But that one¡¯s not safe.¡±

    Captain Arsit looked at her. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°That exit is in a hag¡¯s domain. A swamp hag named Mildred the Finger Eater.¡± Autumn couldn¡¯t hold back her words anymore, and they came tumbling out of her mouth. ¡°My team and I have already agreed to go after her, but we could really use some help. I¡¯m sure I could compensate you or the other teams with either gold or loot taken from the hag once we kill her. Also, as that exit is the closest, we¡¯ll have no trouble leaving the under-roots. If you could just¡ª¡±

    Captain Arsit cut her off by holding a hand up. The witch¡¯s heart sank as he leaned back from the table.

    ¡°While I appreciate the effort you¡¯ve gone to in bringing my people back to me, and for delivering this map, I can¡¯t fulfill your request.¡±

    Agitated and desperate, Autumn hurriedly said, ¡°She¡¯s the one that killed Leshana and Vuriac! Surely for them¡ª¡±

    Once more, the captain cut her off. ¡°Be that as it may, I simply can¡¯t just¡ª¡±

    ¡°She skinned her!!¡± Autumn screamed.

    ¡°Be that as it may!¡± Captain Arsit¡¯s eyes were hard as he raised his voice. ¡°I can¡¯t send my people to die! We¡¯ve lost enough already!¡± he pounded the table. Another long sigh escaped the rabbit-man. ¡°I¡¯m taking everyone left and making for another exit. I suggest you come with us.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    From behind the witch, Nethlia¡¯s voice rumbled. ¡°Is there nothing you can do?¡±

    Captain Arsit met the other captain¡¯s eyes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Captain Nethlia, but I¡¯ve made my decision.¡±

    The words burned Autumn¡¯s ears like a death knell. Frustrated with both herself and the captain, the young witch fled from the tent. Nethlia stretched out a hand to stop her initially, but relented and let the girl slip past before turning back to the Lepus captain.

    ¡°Very well.¡± Nethlia nodded, disappointed but not surprised. ¡°If that¡¯s your choice, then we¡¯ll respect it. However, before we depart, we¡¯ll be needing a copy of the route we are taking and we¡¯ll also leave the fallen¡¯s share of the loot with you. If you could send it to their families, I¡¯d appreciate it.¡±

    ¡°You can count on me for both. It¡¯s the least I could do,¡± he said softly, but continued as Nethlia turned to leave. ¡°I hope you don¡¯t think badly about me. I¡¯m just doing what¡¯s right for my men.¡±

    Nethlia stopped at the flaps of the tent, staring out at the witch, who was wiping her eyes furiously at the edge of the square. ¡°I know,¡± she said, ¡°and I¡¯m not mad. Not yet anyhow. I¡¯ll come find you when it¡¯s all over and then we¡¯ll see if that¡¯s still true.¡± With that, she left the tent behind.

    Across the way, Autumn tried miserably to hold back her tears of frustration. Not helping matters was the banshee¡¯s whispers in her ears.

    ¡°Thou art a soft-hearted na?ve. So, this is the path thou art taking, is¡¯t? Sigh, I did prefer the other.¡±

    ¡®Leave me alone. I did what was right!¡¯ Autumn whimpered in her mind.

    ¡°And just whither didst this right of yours land thee? Hmm? Without allies to calleth upon, is what I see¡±

    The weight of her emotions drove Autumn to the ground. Her hat felt the heaviest it¡¯d ever been. ¡®That¡¯s not true!¡¯ she yelled at the banshee in her mind, ¡®I have my friends, my party!¡¯

    ¡°Forsooth, thou art indeed right. Thy friends shall cometh at thy call ¡ª and die for it.¡± The banshee¡¯s whispers faded as she retreated back into the soul-cage necklace, leaving Autumn to weep all alone.

    But not for long.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Nethlia said as she sat down beside Autumn.

    For a while the pair just stared silently out over the shimmering waters that reflected the millions of fireflies clinging to the ceiling like a starscape. Adventurers dotted the shoreline as they slowly fished in the murky lake.

    ¡°Hey,¡± Autumn eventually replied with a sniffle.

    The silence stretched out once more as Nethlia mulled over her words. They both found a solace in the other¡¯s company and the tranquil air lingering between them. But eventually that tranquil air broke as the berserker finally voiced the unspoken truth.

    ¡°I know you could have lied. Or simply not told him about the danger. But you didn¡¯t,¡± she said with a smile tugging on her lips.

    ¡°And look where that got us,¡± Autumn said mulishly.

    Nethlia nodded. ¡°We¡¯re no better or worse off than we were before.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d be better off with two-dozen warriors at our back!¡±

    Nethlia gave Autumn a hard look ¡ª not harshly, just painfully serious. ¡°And then what?¡±

    Startled by the question, Autumn finally looked her friend and mentor in the eye. ¡°What do you mean ¡ª then what?¡±

    Nethlia nodded to the idle adventurers and guardsmen, their faces set in a grim acceptance as they languished in the deep, dark well. ¡°Say you tricked them and got them all the way to the hag. They¡¯d figure out you lied to them. What then? What was your plan once the hag was dead?¡±

    Autumn looked back down at the rocky ground beneath her feet, smoothed down by magic. ¡°Provided they survived the fight?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, provided they survive the fight.¡±

    Dark pools rose back up to meet Nethlia''s glowing orange orbs. The Inferni berserker didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°They¡¯d not survive the next,¡± Autumn declared.

    Nethlia snorted and quickly pulled the witch into a headlock, wrapping a powerful bicep around her neck, causing Autumn to squeal in indignation. ¡°Careful,¡± the berserker said, ¡°you almost sounded scary then. So, what are you gonna do now, little witch, captured as you are?¡±

    ¡°You brute!¡± Autumn laughed despite herself. In her chest a blazing warmth bloomed. However, she could have done without Nethlia¡¯s knuckles digging into her scalp, thoroughly messing up her hair even with her hat protecting it.

    Eventually, Autumn went limp and played dead, hoping that Nethlia would get bored.

    She didn¡¯t and just continued to mess with the witch until they were interrupted.

    ¡°Oi! You two!¡± The pair heard yelling from behind them. When they turned around, they saw Liddie waving from over by the medical tent while Pyre stood awkwardly beside her. ¡°Stop playing grab-ass and come over here! And bring the stuff!¡±

    Like a bolt of lightning had hit her, Autumn jolted from Nethlia¡¯s grasp and ran over to the pair. Lazily, Nethlia rose and stalked after the escaping witch. Standing beside the entrance to the medical tent, Pyre nervously adjusted her alchemical goggles at their approach.

    The Ignis girl looked more than a little worse for wear. A thick, clean bandage had been wrapped around Pyre¡¯s face, completely covering the cheek that¡¯d suffered a grievous injury. The eye above the wound looked to be permanently bloodshot while her hair was wispy and drooping ¡ª no longer the flaming bonfire it¡¯d been before.

    Autumn stopped in front of the alchemist, unable to stop staring as a terrible memory overlapped her sight.

    ¡°You¡¯re alive!¡± Autumn laughed.

    Pyre broke into a smile as she embraced the other girl. ¡°As far as I know! It¡¯s good to see you again. I hear you h-ha-h-hav¡­¡± her brow furrowed as the word she was looking for slipped through her finger, ¡°I hear you¡¯ve got stuff for me.¡±

    The sudden stutter shocked Autumn. ¡°Hey, are you ok?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine!¡± Pyre growled, ¡°I¡¯m just having trouble re-re-re¡ªthinking of words sometimes. It¡¯s not a big deal!¡±

    ¡°Oh, Pyre.¡± Autumn said sadly.

    ¡°Shut it! I don¡¯t need your pi-p-pit¡ªLook, do you want your stuff looked at or not!¡±

    ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough.¡± Nethlia said sternly. ¡°Let¡¯s grab our car-wagon-sled-thingy and find somewhere quiet to let Pyre do her thing, ok?¡±

    ¡°Thank you!¡± Pyre yelled before storming off toward the now unloaded sleigh. While Autumn and Nethlia had been talking, Edwyn had successfully unloaded all the bodies, spare silver, and other junk cluttering it. Now the bone sleigh just hovered in place as it awaited them.

    ¡°What¡¯s this made of, anyway?¡± Nethlia asked curiously as she tapped the white material.

    ¡°Dragon bones.¡± Autumn replied as she jumped onboard and helped Pyre up. Nethlia just stared after her before making a quiet ¡°huh¡± noise.

    Sitting down on the floor of the sleigh, Pyre cast her gaze over the pair of potions ¡ª the crimson one stoppered by a green gorgon¡¯s head and a green one stoppered by a knot of wood. Autumn couldn¡¯t tell what the alchemist was looking for, but she watched on, enthralled all the same, as Pyre ran the pair through a battery of tests.

    The first thing the alchemist did was carefully siphon out a few drops from each before mixing them into a variety of mineral substances ¡ª some of which bubbled and burnt when the potion was applied, while others changed shades or into entirely new colors. At one point, Pyre even taste-tested both. The crimson one made her grimace while the green made her look like she¡¯d taken a shot of espresso.

    When she was finally done, Pyre gestured to the pair of potions. ¡°Ok, I¡¯ve worked out a few things. For starters, While I do-d-don¡­I¡¯m not exactly sure what they are, I¡¯m still fairly confident. But still, take what I say with some cau-cau¡­care.

    ¡°Ok, let¡¯s go with the easiest one first. The green potion is a very potent haste potion. It¡¯s probably a greater or even a grand one. If you drank it, you¡¯d likely move at four-to-five times the speed that you do now. Ma-may-may¡­Likely more.

    ¡°On the other hand, we have this cr-cr-crim¡­red potion. This is what I think is a divine essence potion. Literal blood of an Angelus distilled into a magical potion. Now, while it will heal someone almost completely even if they are on the verge of death ¡ª it¡¯ll kill them after a while as there is too much p-po-pow¡­.It¡¯s too fucking strong, ok!!¡±

    Pyre panted as she finished.

    ¡°You did great, Pyre,¡± Nethlia praised before turning to the group. ¡°Alright everyone, grab your things and say your goodbyes. I want us to be moving shortly.¡± she turned back to Pyre as everyone else started departing.¡°Hey, did Liddie tell you about the plan? Autumn told me everything as we were coming back. You can stay with the convoy if you want as they¡¯ll be heading for another exit soon and where we¡¯re going is extremely dangerous.¡±

    ¡°Yeah she told me we¡¯re gonna go kill some hag bitch or something.¡± Pyre scowled. ¡°And you can fu-fuc¨CFUCK right off with your ¡®stay behind¡¯ bullshit. I¡¯m coming too.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright.¡± Nethlia laughed.

    Autumn departed the bone sleigh to the sounds of laughter and swearing as she set off in search of her wayward catgirl. It didn''t take long to find her as Eme was just coming back to the square herself in search of a witch¡¯s shoulder to cry on. Red and puffy eyes met Autumn''s dark orbs as they approached one another.

    ¡°It go that bad, huh?¡± Autumn asked.

    Eme shook her head. ¡°Better than I thought, but less than I hoped. You?¡±

    Autumn shrugged before looking off to the side. ¡°Bout the same. Listen, I think this is really goodbye this time.¡±

    ¡°Huh? What do you mean? Are you going somewhere?¡± Eme looked shell-shocked at the news, devastated even.

    ¡°Yeah, my team is gonna go and kill a swamp hag,¡± Autumn laughed without humor. She met the catgirl¡¯s watering eyes. ¡°Anyway, I don¡¯t want to drag you into this anymore than you already are. I can¡¯t¡­I can¡¯t lose you. I think I¡­I think¡­¡± Autumn swallowed. ¡°Nevermind. Heh, I was never good at goodbyes.¡±

    Eme blinked back the tears. ¡°Was this the hag that killed Leshana and Vuriac?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. And I¡¯m going to kill her.¡± Autumn grimly smiled.

    ¡°I want to come!¡± Eme declared, but Autumn just shook her head.

    ¡°No, it¡¯s too dangerous. Remember that angel fight? It¡¯ll be that all over again.¡±

    A shudder ran through Eme¡¯s body at the memory, but she steeled herself and looked Autumn in the eye, not backing down. ¡°I don¡¯t care! I¡¯m coming too!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll die.¡±

    Eme grit her teeth in the face of Autumn¡¯s denial. ¡°I said I don¡¯t care¡ª¡±

    The catgirl¡¯s words were swiftly cut off as the witch kissed her. The pair stayed locked in place for a long, tender moment before slowly, reluctantly they parted. And in a whisper, almost too quiet to be heard except by twitching feline ears, Autumn said. ¡°I love you, you fucking idiot. So, go away before you break my heart.¡±

    Eme stood rooted in place, unable to reboot her shocked mind before Autumn had run away.

    ¡®Hey, is this what you meant by giving your heart away?¡¯ Autumn asked the banshee.

    ¡°Hurts doesn¡¯t it? Let¡¯s hope your choice is better than mine.¡±

    Once the Dusk Wolves had regrouped, they pushed the levitating sleigh down to the water¡¯s edge and turned it into a boat ¡ª much to Autumn¡¯s distaste. However, she still boarded all the same. Liddie stood at the stern of the boat-slash-sleigh, looking entirely in her element as they drifted along the shore¡¯s edge, heading for the river that¡¯d take them to the hag¡¯s domain and the deadliest fight of their lives.

    ¡°Uh, Autumn? I think you forgot something,¡± Nelva said with a smirk.

    Looking behind them, Autumn saw Eme thundering along the shoreline on all fours, her eyes fixed on their floating craft.

    Autumn sighed even as her heart beat in tune with the catgirl¡¯s footfalls. ¡°Damnit, Eme! Go home!¡± she yelled, but Eme didn¡¯t listen ¡ª she just ran on, drawing ever closer to their bobbing boat.

    ¡°You can do it, Eme!!¡± Nethlia bellowed.

    Autumn spun around angrily, ¡°what are you doing?!¡±

    Nethlia smiled, ¡°you said you needed allies. I think we found one with guts.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯ll die!¡±

    ¡°Then make sure she doesn¡¯t,¡± Nethlia said simply.

    Not even the settlement wall could stop Eme¡¯s pace and she simply bounded up it. Like a cat, she sprang from point to point until she leapt completely clear of the wall and out above the blue, sailing through the air towards the party¡¯s makeshift boat.

    And she missed.

    Nethlia laughed heartily as she dragged a sopping wet catgirl out of the water and plopped her right down in front of a flustered Autumn. Eme hiccuped as she stared straight into the witch¡¯s dark orbs.

    ¡°I love you too.¡±

 Chapter Ninety-Two: The Drums of War

    Wild-shod hooves rumbled the flooded tunnels and cavernous holds of the dark under the earth, proclaiming war and death with every drumbeat ¡ª a grand host called forth by a pact broken. Down came the sunlit riders, those forebears of catastrophe, to carve and cut the foulest of hagcraft amongst the baying of their hounds and their own scornful laughter. Down came the emerald knights wielding blades of glass and sunlight with unmatched fury. Down came a wild hunt ¡ª and with it the dying days of summer.

    The spring king laughed at the queen of summer¡¯s displeasure.

    And when that grand archfey turned her ire to the one who¡¯d caused her such a misstep ¡ª the Fair Maiden lingering in the dark ¡ª the fey and mortal realms twisted and warped until they blended into one.

    A warhorn bellowed to spur the wild hunt on.

    Unknowingly, a witch sailed towards it.

    Autumn scowled down at the bleak waters that swept their sleigh-turned-boat along. Fond was not a word she¡¯d have used to describe her encounters with it or its ilk. The witch had run afoul of every river she¡¯d come across ¡ª from the River Styx and its drowned dead to viking longships, quill-throwing crocodiles, and an ambush of undeath at the end of another. Even the one they rode now had tried to drown her before and had ultimately sent her into a nightmare journey. Needless to say, she wasn¡¯t too keen to be journeying down another river again.

    ¡°Hey! Are you seasick as well?¡± Liddie called out as she stood firm-footed at the stern of the sleigh-boat ¡ª nary a green gill in sight. The same couldn¡¯t be said for Pyre and Eme as the pair of girls were currently hurling their stomachs into the water¡¯s flow. It was rather impressive how easily they got sick, seeing as how the levitation runes on the bottom of their craft acted as a sort of stabilizer, allowing them to bob along rather gently.

    ¡°No,¡± Autumn replied. ¡°I just hate rivers.¡±

    ¡°Yeah? Me too! I find them far too narrow,¡± Liddie commiserated with her. ¡°It¡¯s the open sea that calls me, not this river-rafting nonsense!¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if you can call this a raft,¡± Autumn said as she looked over the sleigh. As she and Eme had built it to accommodate eight bodies and the chests of loot, it was large enough to hold all seven of them ¡ª if a little tight.

    Much to the other¡¯s amusement and the pair¡¯s embarrassment, Autumn and Eme had been squished together at the bow to serve as lookouts and a guiding light. However, Eme had grown increasingly embarrassed once the rush of excitement had worn off, leading her to blush bright-red while her stomach twisted itself into knots ¡ª which hadn¡¯t helped with her motion sickness.

    Autumn patted the poor girl¡¯s back as she hurled once more over the side of the boat.

    ¡°I suppose congratulations are in order,¡± Nelva said with a smile.

    ¡°Congratulations?¡± Autumn asked, turning towards the Lepus.

    Nelva nodded to Eme, who was still painting the waterways below with her breakfast. ¡°For your ¡ª I suppose engagement isn¡¯t the right word, is it? Well, it doesn¡¯t matter. When do you think you¡¯ll be picking your mistresses? Do let me know ¡ª I¡¯ve a few friends that might like your pairing.¡±

    Autumn choked on her spit.

    From her place at the stern, Liddie leant over to the bewildered Lepus staring at the choking witch. ¡°Psst, Nelva. I don¡¯t think humans do that sort of thing ¡ª they¡¯re more like Elves, from what I remember.¡±

    Nelva blinked, scandalized. ¡°Really? But how do they expect to take care of all their kits? Surely they don¡¯t leave them with a servant.¡± She gasped.

    ¡°No, no¡­Well, some of them do, but I recall humans only have around five to seven babies over their lifetime.¡± Liddie poked a socially dying Autumn with her foot. ¡°Hey! How many babies do you have?¡±

    ¡°Liddie,¡± Nethlia sighed, ¡°you can¡¯t just ask someone how many babies they have.¡±

    ¡°What? How else are we meant to know?¡±

    Red-faced and breathless, Autumn crawled up from the floor to glare at the pirate who¡¯d kicked her. ¡°I haven¡¯t had any children! If you must know, human women tend to have around two to three children where I¡¯m from. And what¡¯s this about mistresses?!¡±

    ¡°I am sorry if I have offended you,¡± Nelva apologized. ¡°For Lepus, we gentledoes have around thirteen kits over our lives ¡ª not that we live much longer than humans. So in our culture, it¡¯s traditional to take on a paramour or two to care for the litters. I know little about Human culture so I just assumed, and I apologized again for that.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, it¡¯s fine,¡± Autumn said to soothe her worries. ¡°If it¡¯s not too much to ask ¡ª you said you were engaged before? Did you have any lovers?¡±

    Nelva blushed. ¡°Lovers isn¡¯t the word I¡¯d use for it, but I had my eye on a handsome gentlebuck.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Eme interrupted as she turned to look at them. While the catgirl still looked queasy, she had nothing more in her stomach to give to the water. ¡°I thought humans were like Lepus with mistresses and all that. If that isn¡¯t right, then why¡­?¡± she trailed off as she looked confusingly between Autumn and Nethlia.

    Everyone turned to the witch for an explanation.

    Autumn blushed, not able to meet their eyes. ¡°Umm, where I¡¯m from, it¡¯s expected that a relationship is just between two people. It¡¯s not the case everywhere, but the country I was from looked down on polyamorous relationships ¡ª multiple partners that is.¡±

    ¡°Oh~¡± Liddie exclaimed as the light of understanding bloomed in everyone¡¯s eyes. ¡°That explains why you were acting so funny after you two fucked.¡±

    ¡°Liddie!!!¡± Autumn yelled as she blanched.

    Liddie snorted as she rolled her eyes at the panicking witch. ¡°Oh calm down, everybody knew.¡±

    ¡°Everyone?¡± Autumn asked in a mortified whisper, and when they all nodded she turned to the water rushing by, ¡°is it too late to drown myself?¡±

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s distress, Nethlia patted her on the back. ¡°Yep, that ship has sailed. To be honest, if I knew this was such a big deal for you, I¡¯d have said something earlier ¡ª it¡¯s just hard to remember that other races do things differently.¡±

    Comforted, Autumn turned away from the water with a sigh. ¡°If it¡¯s not too much to ask ¡ª how do your races do relationships?¡±

    Nethlia was the first to speak. ¡°Remember how I told you about how we were freed from the hells?¡± at Autumn¡¯s nod, she continued. ¡°Well, when we were slaves to the devils, they didn¡¯t give us the freedom to choose who we¡¯d couple with ¡ª they breed us like prized Agoroth to be bigger, stronger, tougher. So, ever since then, we see relationships as needing to be free, and we despise arranged marriages.¡±

    Autumn started when she remembered something. ¡°Wait ¡ª so, all that stuff with Gilralei¡¯s father?¡±

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    ¡°Yup. He¡¯s an idiot who didn¡¯t bother to learn about our culture. When Gilralei makes it back, our people will clear everything up. I doubt anyone took him seriously.¡± Nethlia reassured Autumn.

    ¡°What¡¯s this about Capt¡­about Gilralei?¡± Em asked.

    ¡°Oh, right, you didn¡¯t know. Back in Fort Rainguard ¡ª God that feels so long ago, anyway ¡ª we overheard her father saying he arranged a marriage between her and the son of Duskfields mayor¡­it¡¯s a mayor, right?¡± Autumn asked, glancing around at the others.

    ¡°Governess.¡± Nethlia corrected. ¡°Which is doubly stupid of him, seeing as how the Empire has a meritocratic inheritance.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Autumn had guessed it was something similar after she¡¯d heard how Liddie had been granted a second name for her deeds. Turning back to Eme, she curiously asked, ¡°so, um, how about your people? How do they do relationships?¡±

    Eme blushed, averting her eyes as she spoke. ¡°Ah, it¡¯s kinda similar to how Inferni do it, I guess? But I think it¡¯s because we¡¯re a bit lazy and too independent ¡ª we get a wanderlust sometimes,¡± she gestured to herself as a prime example. ¡°However, the main difference is with our ancestors.¡±

    ¡°You worship them, right?¡± Nelva asked, to which Eme nodded. ¡°How is that involved?¡±

    ¡°I was getting to that. We don¡¯t do marriages or whatever, but when we love someone,¡± she blushed, ¡°we bring our partners back home to seek our ancestor¡¯s blessing. If the ancestors accept the tom or queen we¡¯ve chosen, then they¡¯ll be forever a part of the family, even if we aren¡¯t together for long.¡±

    ¡°That sounds serious,¡± Autumn breathed out. ¡°Also, queen?¡±

    Eme shrugged, ¡°it¡¯s not that bad ¡ª I¡¯ve just got a lot of uncles and aunties. Queen is just the name for a female Felis.¡±

    ¡®So, not catgirl,¡¯ Autumn pouted secretly in her mind.

    ¡°Hey, seeing as we¡¯re doing all this lovey-dovey stuff ¡ª what about you Pyre? How do your people make love?¡± Liddie poked the sickly-looking girl.

    Pyre glared back at her. ¡°Ingis Lutum ¡ª and Lutum in general ¡ª aren¡¯t born, we''re made. So it¡¯s purely transactional. Two or more Lutum will share their lifeclay and make another. No lovemaking involved.¡±

    ¡°Right~ How about you, Edwy¡ª¡±

    The gruff Manus cut the pirate off. ¡°We have clans. Clans make babies. End of discussion.¡±

    ¡°Umm guys?¡± Autumn spoke up, interrupting whatever Liddie was going to say. ¡°I¡¯ve had a sudden thought ¡ª how are we meant to steer this boat?¡±

    An awkward silence descended upon the group as they realized they were at the mercy of the water¡¯s flow, one which was quickly picking up speed. The water ahead of them grew wild and turbulent as it thundered down a series of roaring rapids. Shocked into motion by the sight, the adventurers hurried about their craft to tie their gear down, all the while listening to Liddie and Edwyn throwing out desperate ideas on steering their runaway vessel.

    ¡°Sails!! Liddie yelled, ¡°we need to use those air runes to gain us a headwind!¡±

    Edwyn scoffed as they tugged a knot tight. ¡°Are ye draft?! They¡¯re Air-burst runes ¡ª they¡¯ll rip right throu¡¯ cloth!! And how ye gonna get sails down here?! Sew our pants together?! Nay, we need rudder!¡±

    ¡°A rudder?!¡± Liddie laughed as she tied herself to the sleigh. ¡°Those rocks¡¯ll smash it to pieces, you ol¡¯ codger!¡±

    The pair continued their bickering even as the sleigh-boat drew closer to the tumultuous descent. Autumn yelped as they struck a rock hidden beneath the waves, almost causing her to bite her tongue as she desperately lashed down her pack. There was nothing more she could do other than hold on as they crested the edge of the rapids and barreled down the thunderous path.

    ¡°Hold on tight!!!¡± Nelva screamed, slammed into the first set of rapids.

    The sleigh bounced violently as it slammed into riotous waters and hidden rocks, threatening to rip the adventurers from the safety of their strange craft. Only a tight grip on their hastily lashed ropes and each other kept them from being swept overboard. Autumn herself kept a solid grasp upon Eme as the thundering swells tossed them about, her own safety entrusted to Nethlia¡¯s powerful arm.

    However, it wasn¡¯t just the wild black rapids that sought to capsize them as they ricocheted from swell to swell like a pinball, but a pod of naiads ¡ª nymphs with oceanic skin, flowing locks of seaweed-like hair, and a pair of overly large, watery eyes ¡ª too came to flood their craft. The nubile maidens latched onto the craft before Autumn could even utter a word of warning, guiding it into the worst of the rapids as they giggled at the adventurer¡¯s plight.

    ¡°Stop that!¡± Autumn yelled in the river¡¯s tongue at the water maidens, but they simply ignored her and continued flooding the sleigh, giggling coyly still. ¡°I¡¯m warning you!¡± the witch yelled once more and once more she was ignored in favor of their drowning game. When the next swell slammed her back down into her seat, Autumn lost her temper and screamed, ¡°begone with you!¡±

    The word of power crashed into the naiads and sent them screaming backward, freeing the watercraft from their grasp. Insulted and annoyed, the naiads wordlessly hissed at Autumn before diving below the frothing waves to call upon others to deal with the inhospitable witch in their stead.

    ¡°Undead freebooters off the port side!!!¡± Liddie yelled as she stuck down with a white-gold edge onto clammy hands attempting to pull themselves aboard. A drowned dead man fell back into the surf, leaving a pair of stiff hands behind.

    However, more water-bloated hands gripped onto the watercraft in its place.

    ¡°To battle stations, you scurvy dogs! Cast these foul creatures back into the drink!¡± Liddie yelled as she continued to slash and chop at clawing hands.

    Autumn¡¯s thick-heeled boot slammed into an undead¡¯s slimy face as it tried to bite her, sending it sailing back into the dark waters with a splash. The way ahead of them was lit up by the Ferryman¡¯s lantern and when Autumn turned to look, she paled as a new obstacle loomed before her. Hurriedly, she yelled back towards the others.

    ¡°There¡¯s a fork in the river!!!¡±

    True to her words the raging river was split in twain. Autumn¡¯s eyes flickered from left to right trying to discern the correct path ¡ª there wasn¡¯t any time to pull out a map.

    ¡°Which way?!¡± Nethlia shouted as she swept the starboard side clean of undead with her pole-hammer. ¡°Make a choice, and quick!!¡±

    While indecision paralyzed Autumn¡¯s mind, the ring on her finger glowed brightly, illuminating her to its owner¡¯s wise words from what felt like a lifetime ago ¡ª ¡°Fret not, young mortal, we shall meet again. I¡¯m already looking forward to it,¡± the Ferryman had said. ¡°Oh, and go left.¡±

    ¡°LEFT!!!¡± Autumn screamed, not a doubt in her mind.

    ¡°Hard to port!¡± Liddie commanded.

    Edwyn grunted in reply and threw one of their runes off to the starboard side of the boat. The air-burst rune detonated underwater with a heavy thud, sending a mighty wave crashing into the side of the boat that cast them down the left-hand tunnel. However, the water didn¡¯t slow as Autumn had hoped, instead the currents propelled them faster and faster until they were thundering down the tightening corridor.

    While bouncing high from her bony seat, Eme got a glimpse further down the clamorous tunnel and yelped in fright from what she saw. The catgirl screamed to be heard over the rising roar of water.

    ¡°Waterfall dead ahead!!!¡±

    Nethlia cursed. ¡°Hold on tight!!!¡± she said, just before the sleigh flew over the edge of the waterfall.

    Weightlessness pulled Autumn from her seat as they all tumbled down, down, down towards a frothing pool below. Once more, a body of water rushed up to meet a free-falling witch, and she crashed right through the turbulent mass ¡ª the pressure of the pound waterfall dragging Autumn ever deeper. She struggled against the weight of the water, but Autumn didn¡¯t even know which way was up and the river would not let her free from the watery tomb it¡¯d designed for her.

    Beyond the waterfall lay a river pacified ¡ª the current still and the surface glass. There was no sign of the adventurers above the placid water, not for a moment, nor two or three until the sleigh came rocketing upwards like a cork, dragging with it several sodden adventurers.

    A bedraggled Autumn spluttered and coughed as Nethlia dumped her aboard their boat before she dived back down to rescue those of them still missing ¡ª a miserable kitten and a doused alchemist soon joined her.

    When they were all back aboard their bobbing cart, Liddie turned to Autumn and sullenly said, ¡°I think you might¡¯ve chosen the wrong path.¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°No, I think this is the right way.¡±

    ¡°Why do you think that?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯d say that¡¯s a big clue,¡± Autumn said as she pointed forward.

    Rising over the river was an archway of brightly glowing bioluminescent mushrooms, growing from walls of rich, primal mud. Pixies flittered and chittered amongst the caps as they watched the party float towards the arch of wonder. Beyond the brilliant portal sprawled a colossal cavern dominated by the gargantuan gemstone corpse of an ancient and fallen earth elemental.

    Autumn gulped. ¡°We¡¯re in the Feywild.¡±

 Chapter Ninety-Three: The Feydark Fairies

    It was a well-known fact amongst the fair folk of the Feywild that pixies bore a terrible passion for gossip of all sorts, so it was before the party had even passed beneath the arch of wonder that every pixie clan of the sprawling cavern knew of their arrival. They came in droves dressed in flower petals, silken leaves, and bumblebee fuzz to gawk at the new arrivals ¡ª every pixie knew of the tales and legends of lost adventurers and wished to be the pixie to guide or beguile the heroes. Soon the sky buzzed as they filled the air, clad in either flaunting pride or invisibility and shyness.

    However, upon seeing the pointed hat and dark scowl, they hesitated ¡ª it wouldn¡¯t do to be the one to aid the quest, only to be bottled or turned into a brew in reward. And as the pixies bickered and chittered above, Autumn sweated and cursed below as she tried to recall everything she knew of fairies to warn her party.

    ¡°Alright, listen up everyone ¡ª this is important,¡± Autumn said, gathering the attention of her party and several eavesdropping pixies. ¡°Fairies and other Fae-folk have a bunch of rules they follow and will expect us to as well. Although I suspect they only follow them for fun, so don¡¯t push them to break them¡­It won¡¯t work out well for us, trust me.¡±

    Everyone nodded at the witch¡¯s words, even the insect-winged pixie bravely sitting on her shoulder. However, when Autumn looked towards the shimmer out of the corner of her eye, there was nothing there.

    Shaking the distraction from her mind, Autumn continued on. ¡°First ¡ª do not give away your name!! And don¡¯t make one up either as they hate lies ¡ª words are law here, so always be true even if it is in denial. I think nicknames are fine, but I¡¯m not sure, so it¡¯s best to be careful. Take nothing ¡ª no offerings, gifts, or food. Give no thanks as it implies a debt unpaid and say no sorrys as it cheapens their kindness. Make no promises nor bargains for it must be paid, but if you absolutely must, make sure you are specific about it! Give and gain in equal measure,¡± Autumn panted with stress. ¡°You know what? Just let me do the talking! Finally, and this is the most important one ¡ª always be polite!¡±

    The party tentatively nodded as they tried to absorb the knowledge Autumn bombarded them with. Around them, the pixies looked impressed, if a little annoyed at her knowledge.

    ¡°You know a lot about the fae?¡± Nelva asked. ¡°I know you said you had some trouble with them before.¡±

    The promise of juicy gossip perked up the pixies listening in.

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°I¡¯ve mostly just read about them. Other than the Summer Court,¡± the pixies winced, ¡°I¡¯ve not met any others, and that encounter didn¡¯t go well. Oh, that reminds me ¡ª watch where you step as crossing into a mushroom ring is a bad idea.¡±

    The adventurers all looked up at the archway glowing above them above.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think archways count,¡± Autumn said, before adding, ¡°hopefully.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget thy cold-iron,¡± the banshee whispered to Autumn. ¡°Rid thyself of its ilk for those seeking ill of thee it shalt not bother, instead those with aid to giveth thee shalt findeth insult from its presence.¡±

    ¡®Right,¡¯ Autumn said back mentally as she untied the cold-iron horseshoe from her pack and hid it amongst their other gear at the back of the sleigh. ¡®What about regular iron like our swords and armor?¡¯

    ¡°Fire-worked metals art fine ¡ª mithril or enchanted would be better obviously.¡±

    ¡®Why¡¯s that?¡¯ Autumn asked. ¡®Do fae like that metal or something.¡±

    The banshee shrugged with the soul-cage. ¡°Yond pixies hath cometh for a story, a legend ¡ª the more thee art beheld as one, the better.¡±

    And to be fair to them, the adventurers looked the part ¡ª riding in on dragon bones and led by death¡¯s glowing lantern as they had. They even had the knight, the fool, and the lover aboard ¡ª the watching pixies were already making bets on who¡¯d take on the role of the hanged man.

    Suddenly, Eme called out. ¡°Hey! They¡¯re coming down!¡±

    Sure enough, coming down from the luminous archway above, was a trio of disparate-looking pixies on fluttering wings. The first had skin like gold clad in the softest of bumble-bee fuzz, while the second bore pale skin hidden under a dress made of spider-silk and a ladybug¡¯s carapace. A peach-toned pixie brought up the rear, looking like they¡¯d just discovered what clothing was and had to fashion some in a hurry out of leaves, leaving them only in what roughly looked like a skirt and top.

    ¡°Are they dangerous?¡± Nethlia asked as she watched the trio¡¯s descent.

    Autumn hummed. ¡°Hmm, kinda ¡ª pixies are more pranksters than anything, but can be helpful to those they like. So¡­be likable?¡± she offered.

    There was nothing more Autumn could say as the trio of pixies arrived to hover before the adventuring party. While she waited respectfully, Autumn named them in her mind ¡ª Queen-bee, Ladybug, and Leaf-bound.

    Queen-bee was the first to speak, her voice high-pitched but not unpleasant as she spoke in the mortal tongue. ¡°Hail and well met travels of yore and legend! You grace the halls of Toteedelsteinheim. Pray, may I have your names?¡±

    Before anyone else could foolishly reply, Autumn stepped forward. ¡°Our names are our own and not freely given, but many names I am known ¡ª Witch being one.¡±

    The pixies tittered as they spun in place, having not really expected her to fall for the most obvious of traps.

    It was Ladybug that spoke next. ¡°Tis a wise witch that stands afore us. One which is gossiped about so ¡ª of the embarrassment of the summer maiden and a wild hunt failed.¡±

    Autumn opened her mouth to ask, but stopped to think over her words, much to the amusement of the pixies. With a slow nod, the witch spoke. ¡°While I¡¯d not accuse her of such, I was stolen from both in body and mind.¡±

    The pixies muttered amongst themselves at the accusation. In the lands of the fae, theft contradicted their rules of hospitality and they scorned it ¡ª or at least blatant theft was. Tricking a mortal into giving over what they owned was seen as fair game. Unease rippled through the flock of fairies as they wondered whether they¡¯d be liable for reciprocity at the breakage of hospitality.

    It was Queen-bee who spoke again, more carefully this time. ¡°If a member of the Summer Court has breached etiquette, then it is to them to make right.¡±

    ¡°The Fair Maiden has proven herself undeserving of my hospitality in turn,¡± Autumn said as she touched her replaced fingers. She felt a little bad at making the curious pixies squirm, as they clearly didn¡¯t want to be anywhere near the ire of a witch or a member of the Summer Court.

    Seeking a safer topic, Leaf-bound questioned the witch, ¡°What brings you here?¡±

    ¡°A river,¡± Autumn joked, although she was unsure why she did so.

    There was a beat of silence before the pixies erupted into a fit of giggles while Leaf-bound pouted. As she didn¡¯t want to offend the fae, Autumn continued on.

    ¡°That, a sleigh made of dragon bones, and a quest ¡ª a story in the making that so far has spanned more than one realm.¡±

    Now the pixies crowded in closer, eager for a tale.

    ¡°Unfortunately, we¡¯ve found ourselves lost and unable to continue. Perhaps the story ends here?¡± Autumn made sure to direct her question to Nethlia rather than the fae. The berserker looked confused, but gamely shrugged.

    The trio of pixies convened to whisper together. After a moment they returned to Autumn.

    ¡°Many things find themselves lost down here, perhaps a way to be unlost got lost as well,¡± Ladybug said.

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Autumn said doubtfully.

    Seeing her unconvinced, Leaf-bound asked, ¡°art thee hungry? Thirsty? A tale told on a tight tongue is no tale told at all.¡±

    The others in the party perked up, but Autumn just shook her head. ¡°We ate before we left and just had a drink under the waterfall.¡±

    Leaf-bound pouted, ¡°but I make a nice berry-pie~ Why are mortals always so full?¡±

    The other two pixies rolled their eyes at their more wild cousin. Unfortunately, for Autumn¡¯s bargaining tactics, she could see the pixies growing increasingly bored with the exchange and if she didn¡¯t reel them back in, they¡¯d just leave the party to wander the waterways of the cavern on their lonesome.

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Well~¡± Autumn began, perking the pixies back up, ¡°before we ventured into this grand domain and met your beautiful selves,¡± the pixies preened at that, not immune to flattery, ¡°we were on the hunt of a wicked, foul, and ugly beast ¡ª a swamp hag.¡± The fairies booed, their faces twisting into anger at the mention of a hag. Autumn¡¯s heart beat wildly in her chest, but she continued. ¡°Her hand slew many a valiant hero, some were compatriots of mine, and I¡¯ve promised to slay her till she has without any hope of revival.¡±

    The pixies shuddered with fear and joy as she spoke her promise, knowing instinctively that she meant what she said ¡ª that it was no mortal whimsy, but a fae-forged pact.

    ¡°Do you know this swamp hag¡¯s name?¡± Queen-bee asked.

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Would you tell us?¡± Ladybug now asked.

    ¡°I would,¡± was all Autumn replied.

    The trio of pixies huffed in annoyance and amusement. Their eyes flickered to the other party members awkwardly crowding the sleigh behind the witch but found no opening there. Liddie winked as the fairies looked her over.

    Reluctantly Ladybug spoke, ¡°we might know a knower who knows what you want to know.¡±

    Autumn raised an eyebrow as she crossed her arms. ¡°The name of whom we seek in exchange for passage to your knower, who definitely knows how to get to whom we seek?¡±

    The pixies booed.

    ¡°Nay,¡± Queen-bee said. ¡°Tis an unfair exchange, for how can we know if the knower knows if we don¡¯t know what the knower is meant to know? And take out that definitely! There is no such thing!!¡±

    Leaf-bound shrugged. ¡°Best we can do is point the way to the knower ¡ª if they don¡¯t know then how can they be the knower?¡±

    Autumn nervously licked her lips as her stomach flipped. ¡°Give me¡ª¡± Autumn¡¯s teeth clicked loudly as she cut herself off, asking anything from the fae was a bad idea. Smiling at the grinning fae, the witch turned to the Pyre. ¡°Alchemist, how varied are your ingredients?¡±

    Pyre tore her eyes away from the curious fairies and gave Autumn an odd look. ¡°Reasonably. What do you need, Au¨Cwitch?¡±

    ¡°Do you have any honey?¡± Autumn whispered.

    ¡°Some,¡± Pyre said slowly before fetching two small jars and handing them over with a resigned look. A look of outrage appeared on the others¡¯ faces as they realized the alchemist had been hoarding sweets. The pixies tried to peer at the exchange, but Autumn tucked them away too quickly.

    Autumn returned to the front and licked her lips. ¡°So, a name of whom we seek in exchange for directions to the knower who knows what we want to know and a small offering?¡±

    Ladybug scoffed, but seemed pleased by the act of sly bartering. ¡°The name, as much as you know of it, not just a name.¡±

    ¡°And it¡¯s ¡®the knower who might know what you want to know,¡¯¡± Leaf-bound said, as she bounced, ¡°and we want to know what the offering is first!¡±

    ¡°Also, not just whom you seek, but whom you seek to fulfill your promise. You¡¯re far too young to trick us,¡± Queen-bee tutted.

    Autumn chuckled guiltily as the pixies giggled at her. ¡°Ok. The name ¡ª as much as I know of it ¡ª of whom we seek to fulfill my promise in exchange for directions to the knower who might know what we want to know and an offering of¡ª¡± Autumn placed one of the small jars of honey on the edge of the sleigh. Immediately, all the pixies fixated on it, their eyes shining as they licked their lips. ¡°¡ªthis jar of honey.¡±

    The three pixies huddled together whispering fiercely while glancing covetously at the jar bigger than themselves ¡ª it was enough honey for them to swim in¡­if it was full.

    ¡°The jar needs to be inspected first! It could be half empty!¡± Queen-bee cried out.

    Autumn opened the jar and showed them the glistening substance that filled the jar to the brim. She could have pushed them to accept the jar whether or not it was full, but pissing off more fae wasn¡¯t on the witch¡¯s agenda.

    However, it seemed the trio of fairies weren¡¯t done trying to wring more from the adventurers.

    ¡°How about a joke? We could ask for one?¡± Leaf-bound asked the other two.

    ¡°Nay, mortals tell shit jokes,¡± Ladybug complained, ¡°I want a song!¡±

    Queen-bee looked over at Eme, startling the catgirl. ¡°Hmm, they do have a bard ¡ª the lover at that. Are we settling on that? Nothing fun from them?¡±

    ¡°Nay, these ones are too smart it seems,¡± Ladybug pouted. ¡°They kept their fool muzzled.¡± Liddie squinted at the fairy coyly looking at her.

    The three pixies nodded before turning back to the witch. ¡°We want you to give us a song in the exchange.¡±

    Autumn smiled. Unexpectedly, she liked these strange creatures even when they tried to trick her. ¡°One of us can sing a song, but we can not give what isn¡¯t ours.¡±

    Ladybug clicked her tongue. ¡°Usually that one works ¡ª I even let them hear me call them smart and everything.¡±

    Rather than give them time to get their momentum back and think of something clever, Autumn listed out the exchange once more, hopefully for the last time. ¡°The name ¡ª as much as I know of it ¡ª of whom we seek to fulfill my promise in exchange for directions to the knower who might know what we want to know, an offering of this jar of honey, and a song sung by one of us.¡±

    The pixies grumbled but appeared pleased with the deal.

    Autumn breathed a sigh of relief as the deal settled over her and she felt nothing untoward within it nor any malicious intent radiating off the pixies ¡ª they¡¯d had their fun pushing her about already. All that remained was for her to fulfill her part of the bargain and pray they would do the same.

    ¡°The one whom we seek is the foulest of hags, the one known as,¡± the pixies leaned in closer, ¡°Mildred, the Finger Eater.¡±

    At the mention of the hag¡¯s name the pixies recoiled, hissing and spitting. Autumn¡¯s heart thundered in her chest as they bared their needle-like teeth. Behind her the party shifted nervously, reaching for their weapons. However, before tensions could boil over the pixies calmed themselves.

    In the back of the flock, one pixie called out. ¡°We should¡¯ve given them directions for free if they¡¯re going to kill the foul bitch after what she did to Foxcurl!!¡±

    Hurriedly, the other fairies shushed the speaker and hid them from Autumn¡¯s searching gaze. In the front, Queen-bee grinned. ¡°It¡¯s about time some heroes were sent after that hag.¡±

    Autumn frowned. ¡°Nobody sent us, we¡¯re doing this under our own free-will.¡±

    ¡°Sure you are~ you do you~,¡± Ladybug waved her off. ¡°Now, song time! Then we¡¯ll tell you where to find the knower.¡±

    Autumn nodded before turning to Eme, ¡°can you carry a beat after I start it?¡±

    Eme started. ¡°Umm, sure? But with what? I don¡¯t have any drums.¡±

    ¡°Use the railing and your dragon bone arm. It doesn¡¯t need to be perfect, just do your best.¡±

    Autumn began to hum, letting Eme carry the tune before she started.

    ¡°Double, double toil¡ª¡±

    ¡°¡°¡°NO!¡±¡±¡± the pixie mob screamed, startling Autumn and breaking her rhythm. Frowning in annoyance she turned to the trio for an explanation. Ladybug frowned back at her. ¡°No Macbeth! We¡¯re sick to death of it! Everyone of you travelers play the same damn tune!! We¡¯re done with the Avon bard!¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡± the flock cried. ¡°Down with the bard of Avon!!!¡±

    ¡°Sing something funny!¡± another cried out, which was swiftly turned into a chant.

    Autumn rummaged through her mind for anything funny and blushed when something came to mind. She¡¯d read once that pixies were of Celtic origin, so she hoped they¡¯d like a folk song that¡¯d come from that region of Earth. The trio of pixies grinned at the witch¡¯s pink cheeks. ¡°Well, I know one, but it¡¯s a bawdy one,¡± she admitted.

    The flock cheered. ¡°The bawdier the better,¡± Leaf-bound said.

    ¡°Ok,¡± Autumn said, ¡°this one¡¯s called the Scotsman.¡± Closing her eyes, Autumn focused on the beat, pounding the tune into the railing of the sleigh. Eme caught the tune quickly and soon overtook Autumn, allowing her to focus on the lyrics. Behind the pair the others in the party caught onto the musical fever and stomped in time while above them the pixies clapped their tiny hands together.

    Taking in a deep breath, Autumn started singing. ¡°Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair¡­¡±

    The bawdry tune spilled free of Autumn¡¯s mouth, almost without prompting. Never in her life did she think she¡¯d be singing this particular song amongst company, polite or otherwise, let alone a flock of fairies. However, it was proving a massive hit amongst the fair folk and as they grew accustomed to the repeating format; they joined in the choruses like veterans of tawdry drinking songs.

    Behind her was a different story.

    While Nethlia, Edwyn, and Liddie were getting into the song with equal or even more vigor than the rowdy fairies, the others varied from shocked, scandalized, or delighted ¡ª Pyre, Nelva, and Eme, in that order.

    Autumn¡¯s cheeks burned as the song continued until she drew to the final line, joined in by the raucous crowd. ¡°¡­O lad I don''t know where you¡¯ve been but I see you won first prize!¡±

    The flock roared in approval as the song ended ¡ª Liddie joined in by whistling much to Autumn embarrassment.

    And with it done, so too was Autumn¡¯s half of the bargain.

    As the flock of fairies flew away, they descended into the ribald song once more, adding progressively filthier lines as they went. Autumn shook her head as she struggled to catch her breath, it was only now she realized the pixies liked her as they could have kept her singing till she passed out ¡ª she wasn¡¯t sure how long the song had to be to satisfy the pranksters.

    A beaming Queen-bee flew over to the honeypot, glomping onto it before trying to fly away before the other two could catch up. However, the other two were not far behind and grabbed onto it.

    In a rush, Ladybug gave her the directions promised¡­in the pixie tongue.

    ¡°Now, to the knower ¡ª an old Cobynau by the way¡ª you need to take the waters over to the gemstone left foot and follow it up past the ankle. If you go past the knee, then you¡¯ve gone too far ¡ª you¡¯ll hear them anyway, just listen for the dinging!¡±

    Autumn blinked as all three struggled into the air carrying the jar of honey between them. Perhaps it was pettiness, or just a desire to get one over the funny pranksters, but as they were just about to leave earshot Autumn called out to them in the pixie tongue.

    ¡°I¡¯ve not seen prettier pixies than you three before!¡±

    The trio dropped a foot in shock before righting themselves. Autumn cackled as they rushed away in fright. Turning around she took in the smirking, humming, or shell-shocked members of her party.

    Nethlia coughed, suppressing her grin. ¡°Well, that was something. Now, I hope you know where we are going, cause none of us speak fairy.¡±

 Chapter Ninety-Four: A Nymphic Gathering

    Autumn shielded her eyes from the prickling light of radiant flora as the riverboat of bone cut almost soundless through the lackadaisical waters. Beyond the arch of wonder glowed all kinds of bioluminescent plant life, from grand willow trees that grew luminous orbs like fruit to towering mushrooms with sparking spores and hanging curtains of silken lights. And as the adventurers grew accustomed to the new brightness, they could finally take in the vibrant colors of the Fae Realm.

    A colossal cavern sprawled out before their eyes, dominated by the gemstone corpse of an earth elemental. Out of a dense jungle, it rose like a mountain range with a spine that towered into the clouded sky like the spires of a sparkling citadel. Mines and quarries littered the length of the ancient creature of crystal and rock like ticks or fleas on a beast¡¯s hide.

    While she was gazing in awe at the obscured peaks, Autumn glimpsed a squadron of luminous giant manta rays curling around the glittering spires as they swam through the clouds. Near invisible sylphs danced in the coiling wake their wings left behind.

    Slowly, the party made their way deeper into the cavern on the river¡¯s lazy currents under the guidance of Nethlia and her long pole-hammer ¡ª her powerful strength pushing them away from rocks and roots. The river broke ahead of them into many twisting fingers as it swept around towering trees and crumbling ruins. Fungal flowers and creeping vines had swallowed up a thousand civilizations of lost temples and broken cities over the eons or perhaps only seconds.

    And as they drifted closer to the jungle, a wave of heat and humidity washed over them. Almost instantly, Autumn and the others were soaked in sweat.

    A growing cacophony of cheeps, caws, buzzes, and roars emerged from the jungle behind the heat. Bioluminescent fauna ¡ª insects and amphibians, birds and bees, reptiles and rodents, and even larger creatures eternally fought amongst the choking vegetation for dominance. An apex roar bellowed out occasionally to shake and shudder the twisting trees.

    ¡°Which way?¡± Liddie asked Autumn, gesturing to the multiple river paths that split to wind their way into the jungle¡¯s depths.

    Autumn glanced over at each waterway. Some were simple streams, trickles that their craft would never sail up, while others were wider than 8-lane highways, but bore within them herds of kelpies who folicked and played violently in the deep waters.

    ¡°They said to take the waters to the left foot, then sail up past the ankle,¡± Autumn said, gesturing towards the gemstone range towering off in the distance to their right.

    Nelva winced. ¡°That looks pretty far away ¡ª it¡¯ll take us some time to get there, provided we can find the way. Do we have enough rations to make it there? Will we need to forage?¡±

    ¡°Well~,¡± Autumn cautiously said, ¡°that¡¯s¡­complicated.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Nethlia asked, pushing them now towards the mountain.

    Autumn nervously licked her lips. ¡°Distance and time are a little loose in the Feywild.¡±

    ¡°Loose?¡± Edwyn raised an eyebrow. ¡°Whatcha sayin¡¯, lassie?¡±

    ¡°Ok, try not to get mad, but everything in the Feywild is wibbly-wobbly. No, don¡¯t interrupt, just let me finish.¡± Autumn cut the others¡¯ comments off. ¡°Time here is fluid ¡ª it can move faster or slower. A second could be day, a day a month, a month a year, so on and so forth. Not only that, but I think it can go the other way as well ¡ª a day could be a sec, etc. Distance is¡­harder and easier. I¡¯ve not read much about it, but emotions, seasons, anything really can alter how far you need to travel.¡±

    Everyone took a moment to process that.

    ¡°Well, ain¡¯t that a pile of dragon shite,¡± Edwyn grumbled. ¡°How are we meant tae get anywhere?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not even the worst of it,¡± Autumn said with a weary sigh, gathering everyone¡¯s attention again. ¡°Not only is it difficult to find where to come out, but when as well.¡±

    ¡°Stop dancing around it,¡± Liddie snapped, ¡°give it to us straight.¡±

    ¡°Alright, alright,¡± Autumn said to calm the irate pirate down. ¡°So, when we return to the mortal plane, it could be at any time ¡ª in a day since we left, a year, a century, or even more. There is also the possibility that we return before we left.¡±

    ¡°My head hurts,¡± Eme whimpered.

    ¡°You¡¯re not the only one,¡± Nethlia said, gently patting the catgirl on the head. She turned to Autumn questioningly. ¡°Is there anything we can do to mitigate that? To make us return at the time we should?¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Other than bargaining with an archfey? No clue.¡±

    ¡°Can we do that?¡± Pyre asked. ¡°You bargained well enough with those fairies.¡±

    ¡°No way!¡± Autumn hastily denied. ¡°I was reasonably confident that the pixies weren¡¯t too malicious ¡ª they¡¯d make us get lost at most. However, archfey are on a whole other level, and the only ones I know about or their names are the rulers of the courts of spring, summer, and winter. However, bothering them is a good way to be turned into a pig and eaten or something.¡±

    Eme tilted her head. ¡°Does the court of autumn have a ruler?¡± she asked curiously.

    Autumn jolted at hearing her name. ¡°Umm, I don¡¯t know? Maybe? Again, I¡¯ll stress that I¡¯d only read a little about the fair realm, as I never thought I¡¯d actually end up here.¡±

    ¡°Better than the rest of us,¡± Nethlia said with a shrug. ¡°I¡¯ve only heard some horror stories that older adventurers tell of running into some fey-beast in the wilds. Nothing like this,¡± she gestured towards the glowing plant life and towering mountain range.

    ¡°Right, but which way do we go?¡± Liddie asked as she stared out over all the twisting riverways.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Does it really matter? Let¡¯s just pick one that feels right and is heading vaguely in the right direction.¡±

    ¡°That one, then!¡± Liddie pointed to a river twice the width of their sleigh-boat. ¡°I¡¯ve a good feeling about that one!¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure,¡± Nethlia said as she pushed them off the bank that they¡¯d drifted towards. Under her power, they cut across the slow currents of the major river and caught onto the faster flow of the smaller one Liddie had pointed out and entered under the canopy of jungle trees.

    A singular, baleful eye watched them depart before slinking off into the jungle.

    All along the lazy river drifted the bright lantern fruits, bobbing in time with the tide as they softly bounced off their boat¡¯s hull. Bright noxious flowers and sharp jagged thorns of twisting vines choked the banks as they curled and coiled between the towering trees that hung over the water¡¯s edge. Through this overgrowth, they spied those ancient ruins of long forgotten cities and the not-so-forgotten cities of the flighty pixies. Tiny homes and villages dotted the canopy, filled with the buzzing of wings and wild melodies.

    Autumn marveled at it all as they drifted along.

    Spying the fruits littering the water, she remembered Nelva¡¯s earlier question and turned to face her. ¡°It¡¯s not a good idea to eat anything in the Feywild, as it¡¯s not meant for us or belongs to some fae. Even wild berries or game isn¡¯t safe to take and you¡¯ll end up owing someone a debt you can¡¯t pay. Fortunately, we have enough meat and mushrooms to last us a few weeks, if we¡¯re careful.¡±

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    "While advisable, thy knowledge is not wholly true. Some Feywild fare mortals can partake, that of those traded for or freely given. At which hour that situation arises, I shalt advise thee, as per the nature of our accord," the banshee whispered. ¡°However, still be wise to the guile of those offering.¡±

    ¡®Right. Your help would be much appreciated.¡¯ Autumn replied in her mind.

    ¡°Guidance is what I did promise,¡± the banshee said before going silent once more.

    The sands of time turned.

    Grinning skulls of giants and titans loomed along the banks of the river, enshrouded by nature as the party advanced towards the gemstone mountain. Without a sun or moon to guide them, they had no clue how long they¡¯d traveled. It was far worse here in the bright luminescence as opposed to the perpetual dark of before, as at least then they could trick their brains into thinking it was night and thus gain a modicum of sleep.

    Autumn groaned into Eme¡¯s side as the glow stung her eyes. How the catgirl could sleep in this constant light was a mystery only known to herself and cats. Yawning, the witch tiredly sat up to look around while idly playing with an onyx tail ¡ª Eme kicked in her sleep at the touch.

    ¡°Are we there yet?¡± Autumn called out tiredly.

    Boredom, the bane of all heroic adventures, had struck with a vengeance and with half the group resting, Autumn had little else to do other than to watch the changeless jungle roll on by.

    Liddie scowled at her. ¡°For the last time, no!¡±

    Pouting, Autumn turned to look ahead at the snaking river. Led by only calm currents, the river-boat gradually approached another bend in the river. And as they rounded it, a shocking sight befell Autumn¡¯s boredom-mired mind. A gathering of naked human women of unparalleled beauty and elegance lounged idly upon the rocks of the riverbank. They were nymphs ¡ª from the watery naiads they¡¯d encountered not too long ago to woodland dryads, breezy aurae, and strong oreads. And they were just as shocked to see the party as Autumn was to see them.

    ¡°Hey, wake up!¡± Autumn roused the others.

    Nethlia bolted upright as she grabbed for her pole-hammer. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Is there more danger?¡±

    ¡°Possibly, those water maids are back,¡± Autumn said, pointing to the gathering that was curiously peeking at them. The naiads adopted a sour look as they spotted Autumn. ¡°Let¡¯s just pass them by without trouble.¡±

    ¡°Now hold on!¡± Liddie interrupted, unable to tear her eyes off the women ahead. ¡°We should at least ask for directions.¡±

    Autumn gave the pirate an unimpressed look. ¡°They literally tried to drown us not that long ago.¡±

    ¡°Hah! It¡¯s not the first time someone beautiful has tried and I won¡¯t hold it against them. I¡¯m a big enough demoness to let the little things like that slide,¡± she said as she waved flirtatiously to the nymphs, getting a mixture of coy and shy waves back. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say we were meant to be hospitable?¡±

    Autumn sighed, as the pirate had a point. ¡°Fine, but don¡¯t do anything stupid ¡ª these are literal personifications of beauty and nature, so they don¡¯t have the same morality as we do, hence the drowning.¡±

    ¡°Any advice?¡± Nethlia asked, leaning on her pole-hammer as her eyes flicked over the nymphs.

    ¡°Too much, and not enough,¡± Autumn said with a shrug. ¡°Don¡¯t threaten them, be nice, etc. Also, nymphs favor beauty, so try to look nice too.¡± She was thankful she¡¯d kept up her habit of cleansing the group with her spells, as while they looked rugged, they were at least clean. ¡°Oh, and don¡¯t look too closely at them ¡ª I read that their beauty can blind you.¡±

    Autumn covered Eme¡¯s eyes, causing the blushing catgirl to complain.

    ¡°It¡¯s too late for I am smitten already~¡± Liddie sighed as she smoothed out her clothes and tucked her hair behind her horns. Behind her, Edwyn was meticulously grooming their beard while Eme freed herself from Autumn to lick down her hair.

    ¡°I meant that literally.¡±

    By now, the sleigh-boat had drifted close to the shore, allowing Nethlia to hook her pole-hammer onto a rock and anchor them at a safe distance from the gathered nymphs. And as they docked, the party got a better look at the different nymphs.

    While they were all beautiful in their own way, a select few that looked like budding human maidens possessed an otherworldly allure. Autumn found it almost impossible to look away, but somehow she managed it and turned to take in the other nymphs.

    It was easy enough for Autumn to recognize which were the naiads, as they were the trio lounging in the river and giving her mean looks. Now that she wasn¡¯t being thrown around by the rapids, she could get a proper look at them. They had pale blue skin that blended seamlessly with the hues of the river, layered hair of a deep green like river algae, and large eyes that sparkled like polished river stones.

    The dryads too were easy enough to distinguish from the rest. Standing at the edge of the jungle, a pair stared down at the adventurers with far more wariness than the other nymphs, paying special attention to the flames of Pyre¡¯s hair. Both had lithe bodies the color and texture of soft wood and hair of cascading leaves that were dotted with bright blooming flowers. Curiously enough, the dryads both bore horns of wood that were familiar in form to an Inferni¡¯s.

    Shaking off her distracting thoughts, Autumn turned her attention to the next trio of nymphs. While not a hundred percent confident, she thought they might be mountain nymphs ¡ª oreads ¡ª judging by their muscular forms that had more similarity to Nethlia than the other delicate-looking nymphs. Their skin was of a rich brown like that of the earth, while their eyes shone with the colors of cut gemstones, and their hair flowed down their shoulders, back, and over their breasts like an avalanche of purest snow.

    Currently, the three were eyeing Nethlia with interest and interestingly glaring at Edwyn.

    The last type was a singular nymph ¡ª an aura. Bronze-toned skin lay beneath dark hair that fluttered like the mercurial wind, while eyes the color of a clear sky stared at the adventurers with annoyed disinterest.

    And while Autumn and the others had been ogling them, the nymphs had been ogling the adventurers back. This was feeling like highschool all over again for the poor witch.

    ¡°They¡¯re a bit ragged looking, aren¡¯t they?¡± one nymph sniffed.

    ¡°Hmm~ aren¡¯t they?¡± an oread said, pleased. ¡°I think it gives them some warrior charm, but points off for the tattered gear, and is that corpse-iron I spy? What, did they rob a necromancer? Definitely points off for wearing that.¡±

    ¡°I smell a legend to it though,¡± a grumpy naiad reluctantly admitted. ¡°Along with the smell of treasure.¡±

    ¡°Still, would it kill them to wear something nicer? Them wearing nothing would be better than staining my eyesight with its filth,¡± a nymph said with a dainty snort.

    A dryad hummed. ¡°They could do with a bit more flowers and fewer clothes.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± All of them nodded.

    ¡°I kinda like the witch, too bad about the deep black bags under her eyes and those horrible split ends in those otherwise nicely groomed raven locks. She could use a new hat that¡¯s not so horrible to look at and some robes that don''t look like it¡¯ll fall apart with a rough tug. Tsk, and did you see her hand? Her symmetry is all ruined!¡± another nymph muttered.

    ¡°At least she¡¯s using dragon bone and magic rather than metal like that last lot,¡± the other oread said. ¡°And did you see that cute Felis? Squee, she looks so intoxicating with that mysterious sword and dragon bone arm~ Too bad she doesn¡¯t have another sword she can sheathe in me~¡±

    ¡°I can fix that,¡± a dryad reassured the oread.

    Fuck, Autumn swore to herself, it was just like highschool.

    ¡°What are they saying?¡± Liddie whispered to her nervously, unable to understand the tongue of the fae.

    Autumn gave her a dead look, thoroughly disillusioned. ¡°They¡¯re critiquing us.¡±

    ¡°What? What are they saying about me?¡± Liddie asked like she was a virgin with her first crush.

    ¡°Anyone keen for the pirate?¡± a naiad asked. ¡°I wonder how long she can hold her breath?¡±

    A nymph glanced over at Liddie disdainfully. ¡°Her horns are too small while being too lopsided to be cute and all those scars? Bleh. Some are nice, but it doesn¡¯t fit her lackluster frame ¡ª I¡¯d rather go after the bigger demoness. Her stare makes me shiver down below~¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to know,¡± Autumn said sullenly to the pirate.

    Turning to the tittering group of nymphs who¡¯d moved on to verbally dissecting all of Nelva¡¯s, Pyre¡¯s, and Edwyn¡¯s flaws, Autumn cleared her throat. ¡°You know, I can understand you.¡±

    The group of nymphs turned to Autumn in surprise and a red-headed nymph blinked at her, before saying, ¡°oh? Good. Now, we need to do something about your weight! You¡¯re far too skinny to last even a night with me ¡ª not that you qualify.¡±

    Autumn cast her gaze to the ceiling, lamenting her life. ¡®Why me?¡¯

    ¡°Luck, one supposes. Furthermore, doth I needeth to advise thee on how to properly woo a nymph? The favor of one can be rather beneficial, just as their ire is catastrophic.¡± The banshee whispered in Autumn¡¯s ear.

    ¡®Why me?!?!¡±

 Chapter Ninety-Five: A Lock of Hair

    Autumn stood across from the gathering of nymphs, her arms crossed and a scowl plastered across her face. She was worried, rightfully so. While they weren¡¯t archfey, the nymphs were certainly more powerful than the simple pixies of before and it was clear to the witch¡¯s probing gaze they wanted something from the adventurers, and she doubted it was honey and song. She just hoped her friends could resist their charms and not trade away something irreplaceable.

    ¡°Art thee not worried for thyself? Yond nymphs art renown for beguilement,¡± the banshee whispered in Autumn¡¯s ear, the amulet radiating a comforting cold in the humid heat of the feywild jungle.

    ¡®Emotions are my thing, and I¡¯ll not allow a fae to lead me astray,¡¯ Autumn responded, eyeing the mostly naked fey-women eyeing her back. ¡®Besides, they aren¡¯t even that pretty.¡¯

    ¡°Tis not wise to lie in the feywild. Anyways, I wast mostly joking before, thee needeth bed one of those nubile maidens. In fact, ¡®twould be a rather dangerous proposition with thy frame,'''' the banshee chuckled a haunting laugh. ¡°Still, ¡®twould best be wise to be wary of a nymph¡¯s affections just as much of their ire, for their idea of consent is far stranger than mortals, as many a young hero hast hath found out to their peril. Bethink of poor Hermaphroditus and the ills they ranneth afoul.¡±

    Autumn shuddered. ¡®Can we just say hello and move on?¡¯

    The banshee shook her head. ¡°Nay, you hath offended the naiad three yonder. Doubtless they shalt hinder thee going forward.¡±

    ¡®That wasn¡¯t my fault,¡¯ Autumn grumbled in her mind. ¡®They started it and besides, I didn¡¯t even injure them. Not for a lack of trying.¡¯

    ¡°Fault or not, thee didst injure their pride and with it bruised, thee¡¯ll not findeth luck traversing their waters.¡±

    ¡®What of the jungle,¡¯ Autumn nervously asked. ¡®Can¡¯t we travel through that somehow?¡¯

    ¡°Again, not without the dryad¡¯s favor, and they¡¯ll not like your crashing through their lands atop thy sleigh.¡± The banshee sighed at Autumn''s anxious behavior. ¡°Thy shalt just have to brave their temperament and guile. Fret not young Witch Autumn, for I shalt aid thee whence I can. Appease the naiads at the very least.¡±

    ¡®Alright, fine,¡¯ Autumn sighed, not looking forward to the conversational minefield that speaking with a fae was. ¡®And thank you.¡¯

    Taking a deep breath, Autumn centered herself and banished the idle thoughts from her mind. Trying her best to give them a friendly smile, the witch greeted the gathering of nymphs in their own fey-speech.

    ¡°Greetings. We come before you as wayward adventurers in the midst of a truly dire quest. And while it was a surprise to come across a gathering of you fine selves, I can say it wasn¡¯t an unpleasant one.¡±

    The nymphs silently took in Autumn as she stood before the rest of her party, awaiting invitation into their gathering. For a moment it looked as if they were to be rejected by the fey-women ¡ª not that Autumn minded ¡ª but eventually the red-head nymph spoke up.

    ¡°If it wasn¡¯t unpleasant, then what was it?¡± she asked curiously as she lounged on the riverbank, her long legs idly kicking in the crystal waters.

    ¡°A nice view.¡±

    The red-headed nymph gazed blankly at Autumn for a moment or two before letting out a dainty snort. ¡°Very well then. I welcome thee all to our dazzling spot of relaxation and repose. Make merry and be deserving of it, for a dwindling few are able or qualified to be amongst our radiance.¡± She smirked before continuing. ¡°We were just discussing your band of merry-makers before you came sailing around our lopsided bend.¡±

    ¡°Our lopsided bend,¡± a naiad stressed as she glared at Autumn before turning to glare at the red-head. ¡°And it isn¡¯t up to you to accept them or not!¡±

    Autumn raised an eyebrow at the naiad. ¡°You wish to deny us hospitality?¡±

    ¡°You were rude to us first!¡± the naiad said in a snarl, sharp teeth displayed in aggression. She turned to the red-head. ¡°They assaulted us with magic and broke the rules! We need not accept them here!¡±

    ¡°Did you not try to drown us?¡± Autumn asked, her eyes hard like dragon-forged steel as she stared down at the naiads in the water. ¡°Do you not recall I asked you multiple times to stop? And when you didn¡¯t, when you were inhospitable to us, I simply asked you to leave us be ¡ª to begone. While it is regrettable that things took such an unfavorable turn between us, it was not I who broke the rules.¡±

    The red-head nymph looked askance at the naiads. ¡°Is this true?¡±

    ¡°It wasn¡¯t technically in the feywild,¡± one naiad said awkwardly. ¡°And we were just playing!¡±

    ¡°And we did not wish to play,¡± Autumn said.

    The red-headed nymph sighed in annoyance. ¡°Can¡¯t we just leave it at that? I do not wish to hear anymore bickering in my abode ¡ª it¡¯s ugly.¡± Her face twisted.

    ¡°No!¡± another naiad yelled. ¡°We want restitution!¡±

    ¡°Restitution?!¡± Autumn barked a harsh laugh. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you know such big words.¡±

    ¡°Careful now,¡± the banshee cautioned her, ¡°you¡¯re bordering on being rude.¡±

    ¡®Bordering.¡¯

    The naiads glared at Autumn, the water growing turbulent around them. ¡°Why not us?! We¡¯re better than some dumb pixies and you gave them tribute!!¡±

    ¡°Trade not tribute.¡± Autumn corrected.

    Behind the witch, the other adventurers were growing agitated at the raised voices they couldn¡¯t understand and the frothing waters. Nethlia gripped her pole-hammer tight as she loomed protectively over Autumn while Eme nervously touched her new legendary blade, readying herself for more violence.

    The banshee sighed. ¡°This bickering shall extend indefinitely if thee don¡¯t compromise. They¡¯re a vain lot ¡ª I doubt they even care about thee pushing them before, they just wanteth to be better than the pixies. Just asketh them what they wanteth as tribute, and if it¡¯s innocuous enough, do it and be done with it.¡±

    ¡®Fine,¡¯ Autumn grumbled in her mind before sighing out loud and asking, ¡°What is it that you desire for a suitable tribute to appease your turmoil?¡±

    The trio of naiads blinked in surprise, and the waters stilled. Hurriedly they gathered together to discuss what it was they wanted, not unlike the pixies they were disparaging had. As Autumn watched on warily, they kept shooting her glances. After a short while, they came back to make their demands.

    ¡°We want a lock of your hair.¡±

    Instantly, Autumn¡¯s mood plummeted.

    However, the banshee interrupted her before she could shoot them down. ¡°Don¡¯t dismiss those fair folk outright ¡ª first findeth what they wanteth it for. Not all usages of another¡¯s hair art malign.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Autumn gritted her teeth. ¡°Why? Why do you want my hair? And what are you planning to do with it?¡±

    The naiads blinked their large eyes in confusion, mouthing the words ¡°do with it.¡± One of them addressed the miscommunication, answering Autumn¡¯s questions.

    ¡°We don¡¯t want to ¡®do¡¯ anything with it. It¡¯s a tribute, an offering for protection. Back when our rivers still had cities lining our banks and not these crumbling ruins,¡± she gestured to the jungle-claimed temples and broken walls off in the jungle, ¡°young boys and girls would offer their locks to us upon coming of age, and thus securing our favor. Now only the cruel drow cities remain, and we don¡¯t want their locks as they harm our rivers.¡±

    ¡®Sounds more like a protection racket to me,¡¯ Autumn snarked. ¡®Give us your hair or we¡¯ll drown you.¡¯

    ¡°Twas most likely the case. While tis unlikely to befall thee, but if they hath nefarious motive, thee¡¯ll resist by the grace of thy charms and mine own guidance both. Even in death I hath few equals and they art not amongst them,¡± the banshee proudly declared.

    ¡®Still, I don¡¯t want to lose anymore of myself to the damn fae,¡¯ Autumn said, before hastily adding, ¡®oh, no offense.¡¯

    ¡°Offense mildly taken,¡± the banshee said with a chuckle like cracking ice.

    ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± Nethlia asked. ¡°You¡¯ve been quiet for a bit ¡ª did they say something rude?¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°Not really. They want a lock of my hair to soothe their battered egos.¡±

    Nethlia squinted at the naiads. ¡°Didn¡¯t you say things like that were dangerous?¡±

    ¡°They are, but if I don¡¯t, we¡¯ll likely not be able to take the riverways anymore. However, our resident expert,¡± Autumn tapped the cold soulcage amulet under her clothes, ¡°is suggesting I do it, with a few caveats.¡±

    ¡°Just keep yourself safe. We can fight our way out if necessary,¡± Nethlia whispered, to which all the adventurers nodded, although Liddie looked heartbroken.

    While Autumn felt relieved at having the option, she knew she had to take this risk as they couldn¡¯t spend forever in this strange realm. Around the riverside, the other nymphs looked curiously at the goings on. However, they also looked to be getting progressively more irritated with the naiads for taking up the spotlight for so long.

    With annoyance burning her, Autumn slashed off a small lock of her hair and tied it up with a strip of cloth. Her black orbs swiftly locked onto the naiads along the water¡¯s edge.

    ¡°Know this, and I speak the words true ¡ª fuck around with me and I¡¯ll come and get it. Understood? Do not use it to sway, beguile, or control me. Do not barter, gift, nor trade it. And most important of all ¡ª Do not test my patience.¡± Autumn glared down on the naiads and once they¡¯d agreed to her demands thricely, she tossed them the raven locks. As soon as they had it in hand, their sour looks melted away.

    ¡°That was pretty brave,¡± Liddie whistled. ¡°Aren¡¯t you worried they¡¯ll find a way to mess with you?¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°Nah, I remember there being some counter-curses in my Witch¡¯s Tome. Once I get it back, I¡¯ll make a charm that¡¯ll set them aflame with Witchfire or something if they fuck with me ¡ª I did warn them.¡±

    Liddie blinked before she leant over to Eme and whispered, ¡°remind me not to piss off your lover.¡±

    Eme rapidly nodded.

    Having settled the conflict between her and the naiads, Autumn turned to the party to usher them back aboard their river-boat. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ve been as nice as we need to be. Let¡¯s get going before they find fault with our conduct or something equally offensive,¡± she said, only to be stopped in place as Liddie clamped her hands atop the witch¡¯s shoulders.

    Liddie looked Autumn dead in the eye. ¡°Look, I know you want only the best for us, but in an adventurer¡¯s career, the opportunity to fuck a fae or three doesn¡¯t come around often, and I¡¯ll be damned to miss out on my one chance.¡±

    Autumn looked at her in exasperation. ¡°You do know that you¡¯ll likely die in the attempt?¡±

    The witch should¡¯ve known better as asking such just encouraged the lusty pirate. Liddie grinned. ¡°If I do, have it engraved on my gravestone ¡ª ¡®Here lies the Kraken Eater; suffocated by a nymph¡¯s snatch.¡¯¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re the worst,¡± Autumn said, rolling her eyes. ¡°Didn¡¯t you sleep with those mermaids in your story?¡±

    A faraway look washed over Liddie¡¯s eyes before she shook her head. ¡°Nah, that was¡­different. Let¡¯s leave it at that.¡±

    Nethlia patted Autumn on the shoulder comfortingly. ¡°Don¡¯t worry so much ¡ª we¡¯ll be careful and follow your advice. Besides, how are we even meant to talk with them? None of us speak their language.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s likely they can speak at least common, but just choose not to,¡± Autumn said, eyeing the nymphs distrustfully.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be considered rude?¡± Nelva asked with a raised eyebrow, although nobody could see it hidden behind her dangling ear.

    Autumn blinked. ¡°It would, wouldn''t it? Maybe if you mention that fact they¡¯ll speak to you. What am I saying? We should just leave.¡±

    ¡°Not a chance,¡± Liddie denied, before shaking Autumn as if to rattle information from the witch. ¡°Now, tell us what they like! And what they don¡¯t!¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes as she pried Liddie¡¯s hands from her. ¡°They like ephemeral things; memories, emotions, favors and pacts, even things not yet come to pass like a firstborn child or whatever. As for what they dislike? They care little for material possessions, so you should act like you don¡¯t either if you want something good. However fae do like natural things like honey or gemstones. Not that you should be making bargains at all!¡±

    ¡°Hypocrite,¡± Pyre snorted.

    Nethlia interceded before Autumn could snap back. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough. Let¡¯s just join our hosts before they think us rude.¡± She gave both younger girls a stern look, causing them to grumpily agree.

    Autumn turned to the red-headed nymph. ¡°With conflicts now resolved, we express our interest in partaking in repose if your hospitality is freely given?¡±

    The red-head gave her an annoyed look. ¡°I hath said you art welcome, did I not? If you believed those three watery bints could influence my decision, then you are much mistaken. Come! Sit with me, fair witch of ragged hair and baggy eyes. Although, before you sit yourself beside my unsurpassed beauty, leave your weapons of iron behind.¡±

    Autumn grumbled quietly beneath her breath but still relayed the nymph¡¯s request to the others. Before she had even the time to blink, the others shucked off their arms and armor into the boat and rapidly descended upon the gathering of giggling nymphs. A blushing Eme cast Autumn an apologetic look as a trio comprising a dryad, an oread, and the lone aurae bragged her away. The witch blinked dumbly as she looked around at her friends and compatriots. Nethlia was sat between an oread and a blond nymph while Liddie slung her arms around the shoulders of the trio of naiads. Even Nelva, Pyre, and Edwyn ended up with somebody ¡ª a dark-haired nymph, a dryad, and an oread respectively.

    ¡°It looks like you are with me,¡± the red-headed nymph said smugly.

    ¡°I suppose it does look like that, doesn¡¯t it,¡± Autumn said as she unsheathed her blade and tucked it away into her belt before moving to sit at a distance from the naked fae.

    ¡°Your wand,¡± the nymph said pointedly.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°It is as much myself as my arm is. Are you asking me to discard that as well?¡±

    ¡°Whatever,¡± the nymph snorted. ¡°Sit beside my wondrous self and give me a name to call you by, as I refuse to call you ¡®the witch¡¯ all the time.¡± Before Autumn could answer, she continued. ¡°You know what? I don¡¯t actually care. You can call me Physadeia.¡±

    Autumn raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯d tell me your name?¡±

    It was Physadeia this time that looked back at Autumn in confusion. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I? All should know my name, for none is better, and it¡¯d be a shame for you not to hear it.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡± Autumn rolled her eyes.

    Fear roiled within the witch¡¯s hat, dark and constrained. Ever since she¡¯d gotten it, Autumn had always stuffed her fear into its deepest depths, not allowing even a sliver to pollute her mind and strangle her limbs with fright. However, just this once, she allowed the tiniest amount to flow back and reminded her that the beautiful maiden sitting across from her was but a monster chained by vanity and hospitality. Autumn¡¯s eyes dilated as her heartbeat picked up.

    Physadeia stared at the tense witch as she lounged in the cool waters. ¡°You can relax, you know? Take off your clothes and join me in the water.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±

    ¡°Clearly,¡± Physadeia snorted. ¡°You may as well get rid of your clothes anyway ¡ª who put that travesty together? They ought to be punished for such a slight.¡±

    Autumn glared. ¡°I did.¡±

    ¡°So, you not only have terrible hair and skin care, but bad fashion sense as well?¡± Physadeia asked rhetorically. ¡°Honestly, you¡¯re more work than it¡¯s worth.¡±

    ¡°Do you have a point or are you just trying to annoy me?¡± Autumn gritted her teeth as she clenched her fists, her fingernails biting into her skin.

    Physadeia huffed, turning her eyes away from Autumn barely contained emotions ¡ª fear turning to rage. ¡°You needn¡¯t be afraid of us ¡ª we are more afraid of you.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Autumn asked with narrow eyes.

    Rather than answer directly, the nymph nodded off to the other members of her party. Autumn followed her eyes, alighting upon Nethlia. ¡°What could any of them do if angered by us, hmm? What could she do? Break these bodies of ours, yes, but could she turn our rivers to poison with a brew? Carve and cut every tree? Break every rock? Could she twist our beauty with a curse or foul look? No, she or any of them could truly kill us ¡ª well, maybe the alchemist, but that¡¯s besides the point.¡± She turned her gaze upon Autumn. ¡°So yes, we are afraid of the witch strolling through our lands, even if she isn¡¯t the prettiest to look at. Have some pride in that, would you? It¡¯s insulting to be afraid of someone so¡­mundane.¡±

    Autumn was silent for a while, before she simply asked, ¡°what do you want?¡±

    The nymph smiled.

 Chapter Ninety-Six: Bargains Most Fair, Not

    Murmured conversations and soft giggles lightened the air along the banks of the mighty Feydark river. A party of adventurers ¡ª either brave or foolish ¡ª engaged the fair realm¡¯s denizens with hospitable talks and, in some cases, questing hands. Deals and bargains were teased and connections spun. But it was not so genial an atmosphere for the pairing of a raven-locked witch and red-headed nymph, for they sat in a chilly silence laid in the wake of Autumn¡¯s suspicions.

    A storm of emotions brewed within Autumn¡¯s gut, yet nary a drop of it graced her face. Besides a look of barely concealed contempt for the fae lounging in front of her, that was.

    Physadeia, on the other hand, seemed inordinately pleased with Autumn¡¯s discontent and the conversational superiority she¡¯d grasped. She stretched her flawless nubile body within the sparkling waters of vanity, hair aglow beneath the shine of the bioluminescent wilds. A pair of half-lidded eyes turned languidly towards the witch watching her.

    ¡°Thee art an artist, yes?¡± she asked, but continued on before Autumn could respond. ¡°There¡¯s no need to deny it nor to ask after how I know these things ¡ª ¡®tis simple enough to glance at a craftsman¡¯s hands or their discerning eyes. I truly wonder what you make of this place? To finally gaze upon the beauty that all your kind seek.¡±

    The nymph fluttered her eyes at Autumn.

    Autumn huffed in reply. ¡°Is this when you¡¯ll offer me power for my artistic talents? Or perhaps you¡¯ll ask after my hands? Do not think me so foolish as to agree so quickly to such a half-baked offer.¡±

    Physadeia the nymph rolled her eyes. ¡°Tis nothing so droll that I offer thee ¡ª what have I the need for a mortal¡¯s piddling craft? I need not your ugly hands neither, no. What I so generously offer in my boundless grace is to become your muse. Your lover. So that you can ply your canvases with beauty unmatched but for I.¡±

    Smiling, the nymph framed herself in the flattering light, teasing Autumn with her delicate shape.

    ¡°I¡¯ll pass.¡±

    The smile froze on Physadeia¡¯s face. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    Unconcerned with the growing ire of the fae, Autumn swept a reasonably dry rock clean of leaves before seating herself down. She looked back over at the irritated nymph lying in the crystalline waters, taking in her nudity and beauty.

    The witch shrugged.

    ¡°To me, art is just a hobby. It¡¯s not something I devote my life to, and certainly not something I¡¯d bargain with you for,¡± Autumn said before pausing, an eyebrow quirking up. ¡°I hope you didn¡¯t think I¡¯d bite on that offer.¡±

    At Autumn¡¯s provocation, the nymph rose out the sheltered river bank, sending water cascading down her naked form. And like a panther, she stalked towards where the witch sat. Wary dark eyes watched as unmatched curves swayed towards them. Upon reaching the witch, Physadeia pressed her soft mounds into Autumn¡¯s side and whispered seductively in her ear.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand ¡ª I am beauty. And your canvas need not be of paper nor marble. My power can sculpt whatever, or whomever, I wish into something more appealing. I can make that power yours, if you so desire.¡± Physadeia hugged Autumn¡¯s arm, dragging the witch¡¯s hand towards her warm core. ¡°Your soon-to-be flawless hands can shape your playthings into true beauties.¡±

    Autumn resisted the fury boiling up inside her. She pried the lustful nymph from her arm and put some distance between them once she had done so.

    Physadeia pouted and just scooted closer.

    ¡°I¡¯m not interested and they aren¡¯t my ¡®playthings,¡¯¡± Autumn said in a hiss.

    ¡°Not even in the magicks of the Feywild?¡± Physadeia purred in Autumn¡¯s ear, having scooted closer once more. ¡°It can achieve greater things than any of your mortal crafts might. Even the very planes would be your plaything with my hand in yours ¡ª you could mold them to your whims, or cross them with a blink.¡±

    The nymph¡¯s words of temptation coiled into the witch¡¯s ear. Autumn stilled as Physadeia¡¯s warmth pressed into her side and a questing hand crept upon her inner thighs, begging them open. Yet, it was the cold amulet pressed into the skin of her breast that sharpened her mind. Reminded her of the heart she was promised that¡¯d do the same as the nymph offered.

    Autumn leaned in close to Physadeia, a bare inch between their lips. Her hand grasped the questing one upon her thigh. In front of her, the nymph¡¯s eyes alighted with confidence, her lips playing with a smirk. Slowly, the dark-eyed witch spoke.

    ¡°Still not interested.¡±

    Physadeia¡¯s confident smirk turned into a scowl.

    The banshee sniggered in Autumn¡¯s mind at the sight.

    Autumn¡¯s hand tightened around the nymph¡¯s wrist between her thighs, and with a casual disregard, she tossed it back at its owner. Physadeia¡¯s scowl deepened as Autumn put a distance back between them and glared at her with crossed arms.

    ¡°What use do I have of power wrapped in a puppet-master¡¯s strings?¡±

    ¡°All power comes with strings!¡± Physadeia snarled, the anger warping her face. However, she quickly composed herself. ¡°Even yours has a cost. One which you¡¯ll pay dearly for some day.¡±

    ¡°Says you.¡±

    Physadeia narrowed her eyes. ¡°Yes, says me!¡± she huffed. ¡°Fine, if it¡¯s not the power to warp that excites thee, then perhaps you¡¯ll find aught in charm and beguilement? To bend all minds in awe to your whims, to your beauty? To make it so that none can resist your wiles?¡±

    Autumn scoffed. ¡°And be harassed near constantly? I think not. That sounds more like a curse to me than a gift. Especially for a female adventurer.¡±

    ¡°It is only natural for those inferior to lust over their betters.¡±

    The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Not for me,¡± Autumn said, shaking her head in disgust.

    ¡°So be it. If thee shun beauty unwisely, despite its necessity, then perhaps other offers might incite thee? Do you wish to hear the music that entwines reality? Or to hear the words and whispers of the plants and animals that infest your mortal world? I can offer you that and more. Do you wish to brave elements unsurvivable or to be braver than any man? Or perhaps it is I you crave?¡±

    The nymph sensually caressed herself under Autumn''s gaze. She traced the curve of her ample breast while parting her legs ever so slightly to allow a glimpse of her glistening pink flower.

    Autumn snorted.

    ¡°I can already understand flora and fauna, and they have little to say. And as for the other things?¡± She peered curiously at the nymph flaunting herself. ¡°Do you actually have anything that¡¯s worth the time it takes to hear it?¡±

    Rage boiled up in the nymph¡¯s chest at Autumn¡¯s causal dismissal of her offers and body both. Physadeia looked almost wild in her disbelief ¡ª none before had rejected her so. And the smirk she spied playing upon the witch¡¯s lips only infuriated her further.

    The air split with a loud snap as a small portal appeared beside the read-headed nymph. Autumn¡¯s gaze was drawn curiously as Physadeia plunged her hand inside it and, after a few moments, she withdrew a felt doll from within. The portal closed with another crack.

    ¡°This ought to interest you where the others did not,¡± the nymph hissed. ¡°For ¡®tis a sacrificial doll, a rare craft long since lost in your mortal realm. Once, if thy life draws to an unnaturally close, it¡¯ll take thy place.¡±

    Autumn eyed the small doll held distastefully between the nymph¡¯s fingers. The hauntingly beautiful doll was made in the image of a young human girl, perhaps Autumn¡¯s age or younger. It had dark hair like drifting spider threads and eyes of coal stitched into an expression of horror as they bore into the witch¡¯s own.

    Upon her finger, the Ferryman¡¯s ring vibrated warningly. Autumn gave it a strange look.

    ¡°And what is it you want to trade for it?¡±

    The nymph grinned.

    ¡°Oh it¡¯s nothing much ¡ª I wish only to be your patron, to have you dedicate a few deeds to my name.¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is that all?¡± Autumn asked suspiciously ¡ª she didn¡¯t believe that for a second.

    Why else would she offer so much?

    Autumn cast her gaze back over the felt doll. It was a tantalizing offer for sure ¡ª a plus one life, if you will ¡ª but perhaps it was too good? Where was the catch? She placed herself in the role of the other side and imagined all the ways she might screw the taker over. Her dark eyes shifted to the treeline. Perhaps the nymph had a third party lying in wait to kill her as soon as she left, thus rendering the doll useless while still keeping Autumn on the hook for her half? Or perhaps the doll itself was cursed ¡ª when used, it¡¯d replace the user with a loyal duplicate or just trap her inside it?

    Or maybe it was a person already?

    Autumn looked into the nymph¡¯s eyes. ¡°Is that a person?¡±

    Physadeia blinked. ¡°It¡¯s a doll.¡±

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t what I asked, but I suppose a non-answer works too. But that still leaves the question of why you want to be my patron? And a few deeds in your name?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± Physadeia asked. ¡°It¡¯s a generous offer from one such as I.¡±

    Autumn scoffed. ¡°It is generous, too much so.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re complaining because it¡¯s too generous?¡± Physadeia asked incredulously.

    ¡°Not complaining, but it has given you away.¡± A smirk grew upon Autumn¡¯s lips. ¡°Fae do nothing that isn¡¯t balanced. So that means if the bargain is weighted in my favor, then you view myself as more valuable than yourself ¡ª you offered me your body, remember?¡±

    Outrage. That was what the nymph felt at her heretical words..

    ¡°So what¡¯s so important about me, huh?¡± Autumn muttered to herself.

    ¡°You are not greater than me¡ª¡±

    Autumn clicked her fingers, interrupting the nymph. A dangerous gleam sparkled in the witch¡¯s eye. ¡°Let me guess, you want to advance in the courts, right? I bet you know something about either my conflict with the Summer Court or the hag. If you tie your name to mine you can claim the deeds as your own. How close am I?¡±

    The silence spoke volumes.

    Autumn smiled. ¡°I¡¯m right, aren¡¯t I?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± Physadeia snapped. ¡°The deal is still worth your time.¡±

    Abruptly, Autumn stood up. An icy look washed over her features as she towered over the naked nymph. Inky black bled into her dark orbs, staining them till naught but darkness remained. As she gazed down at the cowering nymph she did not see a sensuous beauty, but the ugliness of vanity and fae malignity.

    An unwanted shiver ran up Physadeia¡¯s spine.

    ¡°No,¡± said the dark-eyed witch, ¡°by all metrics, my time is worth so much more than you or yours. Now, while this has been¡­well, not fun per se, as that would be a lie, but me and mine must depart, for we have prior arrangements to make.¡±

    Before the nymph could speak, Autumn let out an ear-piercing whistle. Hearing the shrill sound echo around the sheltered shore, the rest of the party looked towards the sound and saw the dark-haired witch pointing meaningfully at their craft. And as they feared her ire more than the nymph¡¯s, they politely disentangled themselves from their hosts amidst the sounds of pouts and complaints.

    Autumn stormed over to the boat upon the shore, her fear wound tight within her breast. Let loose from its cage. That fear fed the wolf known as rage inside her ¡ª shaking her limbs, boiling her blood, calling for violence.

    With a force of will stronger than steel, the witch chained that wolf; stole its meal from it. Once more, she locked away her fear where it¡¯d do no harm to herself, yet would break those who¡¯d oppose her.

    However, with it gone there was nothing stopping Autumn¡¯s mind from focusing on the feeling of the nymph¡¯s hands upon her. Touching her. It was like spiders skittering across her bare flesh that no amount of clothing could hide.

    Autumn puked.

    <hr>

    Physadeia was white with rage. She watched, trembling in fury, as the party of adventurers made their way over to the shoreline where their boat and witch awaited. And while the other nymphs were distracted with waving them goodbye or lording their gains over the others, she slunk away into the depths of the jungle.

    Fey beasts quietened as they sensed the nymphs ire approach.

    Weaving her way through the tangle of vines and bushes, Physadeia sought out a beast lingering on the edge of her domain, lusting after what it could not have. Although she wished she didn¡¯t.

    The ugly beast hunched over itself as it towered over the nymph, staring down at her with infatuation clouding its single evil eye. Long strings of matted hair trailed down like beaded curtains to pool around the nymph in the mud. A ragged loincloth was all that shielded her eyes from whatever engorged horror lay beyond.

    Pushing down her nausea and disgust, Physadeia gave the cyclops a smile.

    ¡°Go forth, mine own creature. Hunt those folk, those adventurers that spurned mine own beauty,¡± Physadeia said faux-sadly, to which the hunter snarled in anger ¡ª its hands twitching in want to caress the beautiful maiden before it. Disgusted at the sight, Physadeia stepped back. ¡°Go forth and make the witch with a season¡¯s name regret not taking mine own bargain. Go forth and eat her feline lover first.¡±

    The one-eyed hunter grinned with yellow-stained teeth before disappearing into the underbrush, making its way upriver.

    ¡°No one is greater than me. No one!¡±

 Chapter Ninety-Seven: At What Cost?

    The hourglass of time turned once more.

    The gentle sway of the winding river almost lulled Autumn into a deep slumber.

    Ever since she¡¯d resolved their issues with the naiads ¡ª nevermind the fact she¡¯d helped create said issues ¡ª the party had made steady progress along the river. Already they¡¯d passed by the ankle of the towering gemstone mountain range and, according to what the pixies had told her, they were nearing the place where the knower ought to be.

    A wide yawn popped her jaw as she flicked through the spell-book of necromancy in her lap. This deep into the Feywilds, she felt it was safe enough to flick through its grim pages and aside from a concerned look leveled against her choice of reading material from Nelva, none of the others said much about it. She had spent the last few hours studying the healing spells, Flesh Stitching and Bone Grafting, with the goal of grasping even just the basics of them.

    Another yawn cracked Autumn¡¯s jaw.

    With boredom and exhaustion plaguing her mind, Autumn found it hard to focus on her reading and glanced up at the rest of her party crowding the river-craft. It wasn¡¯t plainly obvious to her who¡¯d taken a fey-bargain or not, but there were some tells.

    Pyre was the most obvious.

    What she¡¯d bartered for was healing. Both body and mind. A spiderwork of green scars sprawled across her pitted cheek and filled out the missing sections of her nose like pottery mended with gold. Kintsugi, Autumn thought the technique was called. More beautiful for having been broken. Above the scarring glowed a green fey-touched eye, giving the flaming girl a mismatched gaze as she looked around the waters.

    As for what it cost? She wouldn¡¯t say, only that it¡¯d not been important to her.

    The alchemist¡¯s eyes met hers for a moment.

    Autumn¡¯s gaze shifted awkwardly to Liddie, the next party member who had undergone a minor fey-transformation. Although it was only obvious because she kept showing off the recent addition to her body.

    The pirate now had a set of almost invisible gills running down the sides of her neck ¡ª a result of her bargaining for the ability to breathe underwater. Salt and fresh.

    Now, it might just have been Autumn¡¯s unflattering opinion of the pirate¡¯s less than intelligent decision-making ability, but she thought this was a rare show of foresight. Mainly because she was still alive. After splitting off from the party, she¡¯d spent the majority of the time underwater doing god-knows-what with the naiads.

    Autumn certainly didn¡¯t want to know.

    The others were more of a gamble if they had or not.

    Looking over at Edwyn, she saw they were sporting a rather nasty purple bruise over their left eye.

    ¡°Um, excuse me?¡± Autumn tentatively asked, gaining the runelord¡¯s attention. ¡°What exactly happened to you? Did a nymph attack you? Cause I was pretty sure they weren¡¯t supposed to.¡±

    Everyone¡¯s attention shifted to the Manus, eager to hear whatever salacious tale they had to tell.

    Edwyn touched the bruise with a hiss.

    ¡°This? Nah, it''s juist a souvenir. Turns out the oread lassies donnae like us mining folk much. Call us; plunderers o'' the earth, they do. I¡¯ll admit, I might¡¯ve called her some colorful words in return, ''n'' afore I know it, we¡¯re havin¡¯ a good ol¡¯ punch-up.¡± Seeing their looks of concern, they snorted. ¡°Ach, we were juist settling our differences, was all. Afterwards, we exchanged some gems and jewelry.¡±

    Edwyn paused.

    ¡°Actually, thinkin¡¯ back on it, I might¡¯ve gotten married. At least, that¡¯s how the clans dae it, juist with more booze.¡± They shrugged. ¡°Ehh, I seen worse lookers.¡±

    Autumn sighed as everyone else laughed. She turned to Nelva seated nearby. ¡°How about you? Did you get married too?¡±

    Nelva gave her a wry grin. ¡°Nothing so exciting. I kept my honor and virtue intact. Although, they did tempt me with a full-plate of orichalcum armor.¡±

    ¡°And ye didnae take it?!¡± Edwyn spluttered.

    Nelva shook her head. ¡°It wasn¡¯t worth the cost.¡±

    Edwyn sighed, stroking their beard idly. ¡°Aye, I suppose sae. That¡¯s likely for the best anyhow, you''ll have Mountain Clan assassins after ye the second they catch wind o¡¯ it.¡±

    ¡°Is orichalcum rare?¡± Autumn asked Edwyn curiously.

    ¡°Reasonably sae. It¡¯s a natural magical alloy o¡¯ copper ¡®n¡¯ gold. Gives off a reddish hue, it does, ¡®n¡¯ holds enchantments well. If ye had enough for full-plate armor, you could get it enchanted for less than a third mithril would run you, or ¡ª hallowed halls take me ¡ª adamantine. Provided ye had enough o¡¯ either, that is.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right. Thanks.¡±

    Autumn thanked Edwyn before turning her attention towards Eme.

    Ever since the catgirl had returned to the boat, clothing askew and face flushed, Autumn had been studiously avoiding making eye-contact with her. However, despite how she looked, Eme insisted she did nothing untoward with the nymphs. And while Autumn believed her, the Felis bard looked guilty, which the witch suspected meant she¡¯d made a deal with the fae despite her warnings.

    Sighing, Autumn shuffled her way over to the morose girl.

    ¡°Hey.¡±

    Eme started. ¡°Oh, hey.¡±

    Autumn chewed her lip, thinking her words over. ¡°I believe you, about not sleeping with the nymphs. Even if you looked the part.¡±

    Eme flushed. ¡°They just got a bit handsy!¡±

    ¡°I guess that¡¯s a hazard with you?¡± Autumn joked with a blush, remembering her own encounters with the catgirl¡¯s soft skin. Reaching out a hesitant finger, the witch poked Eme¡¯s soft stomach, marveling at the hardness hidden beneath. The sudden touch caused the catgirl to squeak.

    ¡°Hey!¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Autumn apologized. A bright pink enveloped her cheeks as Eme captured her hands to ward her off. The pair cuddled close in the tight confines of the boat. Words lingered unspoken between them ¡ª longing, attraction, guilt.

    Eme bit her lips as tears gathered in her eyes.

    Startled by the sight, Autumn hurriedly wiped the catgirl¡¯s tears away with her sleeve.

    ¡°Are you okay? I didn¡¯t mean to make you upset.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± Eme choked out.

    ¡°About what?¡±

    Eme sniffled, burying her face in the crook of Autumn¡¯s neck. ¡°I didn¡¯t listen to you. I-I made a bargain,¡± she whispered. Upon looking up and seeing the panicked and hurt look on Autumn¡¯s face, she hurriedly clarified. ¡°Not for anything important, just some skills I wasn¡¯t using ¡ª knitting and the like. As well as agreeing to do some simple tasks in the mortal realm.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Sighing, Autumn closed her eyes. She placed a hand atop Eme¡¯s head and idly scratched behind her fluffy ears. The catgirl pressed herself happily into the touch.

    ¡°It¡¯s never simple with the fae. But¡­it¡¯d be hypocritical of me to scold you.¡±

    ¡°Really? Did you¡­?¡± Eme asked, her eyes wide.

    Autumn hummed. ¡°Not then, but back in the mire, I made a deal with one more powerful than them.¡±

    The banshee preened.

    ¡°Hell, even getting my class was a gamble. If I hadn¡¯t found my book or hat¡­well, things would be different, that¡¯s for sure. Even meeting death was a tantamount to a bargain or two. Sometimes you have to take the chances that fall before you and deal with the cost later.¡±

    Autumn looked to Pyre, the alchemist giving her a side eye.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I shouldn¡¯t have been so harsh with you. Can you forgive me?¡± Autumn asked her.

    Pyre grimaced, looking like she was swallowing razor-blades. ¡°I¡¯m sorry too ¡ª I shouldn¡¯t have snapped at you before either. I know you were just worried about us, but it was my decision to make.¡± She sighed. ¡°Fine, I forgive you, if you forgive me?¡±

    ¡°Done!¡± Autumn laughed before giving the alchemist a quick hug. Disgruntled, Pyre scurried off to another part of the boat, emitting an air of teenage anti-socialness.

    ¡°What about Nethlia?¡± Eme asked.

    ¡°Huh? What about her?¡± Autumn asked, turning to her head to look at the berserker sitting behind them, idly pushing them off any rocks or roots they brushed up against.

    Nethlia cocked her head curiously at Autumn.

    ¡°Do you think she made a bargain?¡± Eme whispered.

    Autumn blinked. She took in the roughly dressed Inferni berserker in all her red glory. To her, Nethlia didn¡¯t look, feel, or smell like she¡¯d taken any fey-based pacts. Not that Autumn had a habit of smelling her¡­much. And only to make sure she wasn¡¯t a changeling or anything. Honest!

    ¡°What are you two tittering about?¡± Nethlia asked with a cocked eyebrow.

    ¡®Gods, how did she make that look so sexy?!¡¯ Autumn screamed in her mind, causing the banshee to sigh.

    However, out loud, Autumn just said, ¡°we were just kinda wondering if you made any fey-bargains. It seems to be the thing to do lately.¡±

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°Why would I when I¡¯ve got you?¡±

    Owlish eyes blinked up at the grinning handsome Inferni. Beside Autumn, Eme leant over to whisper into her ear. ¡°I think she really wants to get into your pants. Maybe we can find a spot for you two for a couple of hours?¡±

    Once more, a blush overtook Autumn¡¯s face, this time almost coloring her the same shade as Nethlia. The witch turned her embarrassed ire upon the catgirl who¡¯d caused it and they went down in a pile of limbs. Eme squealed as a furious witch found her ticklish spots.

    There was no mercy to be had.

    <hr>

    ¡°I never asked what you got out of the bargain you made.¡±

    Autumn whispered to Eme later that day. Night? Either way, they¡¯d settled down to rest, wrapped up in Nethlia¡¯s powerful embrace ¡ª the demoness large enough to be the big spoon for both of them.

    Eme turned over to talk face to face with Autumn. ¡°Music.¡±

    ¡°Music? Just music?¡±

    Eme shook her head, tickling Autumn¡¯s nose with her ears. ¡°Umm, it¡¯s hard to explain. I had three of the nymphs offer me a lot of stuff, but I wanted to be stronger ¡ª more useful to you and the others. So I asked the oread to give me the ability to listen to the music of the earth. The aurae to let me hear the wind¡¯s melody. And the dryad to give me nature¡¯s songs.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°That¡¯s impressive.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s loud, is what it is.¡± Eme scowled cutely, her ears twitching furiously. ¡°But, yes. If I can master it, I hope it¡¯ll improve my bardic magic by leaps and bounds.¡±

    ¡°While that is wonderful. Some of us are trying to sleep,¡± Nethlia grumbled, squeezing the two to her chest. ¡°Go to sleep. You two can figure things out in the morning¡­when we get up.¡±

    Autumn blushed as Nethlia¡¯s breast pressed against the back of her head, but she still did as she was bid and closed her eyes. Eme snuggled into both of their embraces like a kitten.

    <hr>

    Nethlia sat awkwardly across from Autumn. In her hand was a freshly cleaned tooth ¡ª Autumn¡¯s tooth, to be exact. The molar that Mildred had knocked out of her mouth. Rather than leave it for a hag to collect and use, Autumn had pocketed it. To be perfectly honest, she¡¯d not had much hope of it being put back in. However, now that she had some necromancy-based healing spells ¡ª there wasn¡¯t actually that much necromancy involved ¡ª she decided to try to reinsert it.

    She expected it to be a rather painful process. Hence why Nethlia was doing it.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Yup. It¡¯s killing me to have a gap there ¡ª eating is a pain. Just¡­shove it in there. I¡¯ll handle the magic side of things.¡±

    ¡°We could wait, you know? Get you a golden tooth or something in Duskfields. We¡¯ve got enough coins you could melt down.¡± Liddie put forward, looking on in disgusted fascination.

    ¡°Nah. I want mine back in.¡±

    Nethlia shook her head. ¡°Alright then. Try not to bite me.¡±

    She reached forward and grasped the back of Autumn¡¯s head to steady her. As she opened her mouth, Autumn was glad she¡¯d brushed the best she could this morning using what little hygiene supplies she had left. She wondered if her cleaning spell could work on plaque, but that felt like magic that needed testing lest she strip the enamel from her teeth. Her wayward thoughts fled as Nethlia lined up the tooth with the recess it¡¯d been knocked from.

    ¡°Ready?¡±

    ¡°Weady!¡±

    Nethlia shoved the tooth home.

    Autumn screamed.

    Magic licked the roots of her tooth as she focused through the pain. Slowly, she anchored the tooth back into place, connecting all the broken nerves and blood vessels before sealing the quickly swelling gums around it. A small swish of healing potion offered by Pyre solidified it all into place.

    Autumn sucked on her tooth before spitting out a glob of blood.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Nethlia asked, wiping spit off her fingers. Teeth marks upon them showed that Autumn had in fact bit her.

    ¡°Gwood.¡± Autumn slurred. ¡°Awh, noo. My mouwth is awll swoollen up.¡±

    Nethlia laughed heartily at Autumn''s aghast expression.

    ¡°Wits not fwunny!¡±

    It was.

    <hr>

    ¡°Hey, ho! To the bottle I go,

    ¡°To heal my heart and drown my woes.

    ¡°Rain may fall and wind may blow,

    ¡°But there¡¯ll still be many miles to go.¡±

    Autumn was bored. Incredibly so.

    She didn¡¯t know how long they¡¯d been traveling up along this lonesome river. Had it been hours or days since they¡¯d met those nymphs along the rocky bank? With the unchanging light, it was hard to tell. All Autumn knew was that she¡¯d slept more than once since then. Long enough for the swelling in her jaw to dull. Thankfully, they had enough food to last them a fair few days still.

    After that? Well, then they¡¯d have to think about foraging in the jungle, as dangerous a prospect as that might be. In fact, depending on how the Feywild worked, it might be an impossibility.

    In some myths, the food here would either be so delicious that no mortal fare would satisfy them again, leaving them to waste away, or it¡¯d be owned by another fae and taking it would be stealing. Knowing their luck, the game they¡¯d catch might be some arch-fey¡¯s court minster.

    Either way, they¡¯d owe them a debt.

    Not an enticing prospect.

    However, rather than dwell on that distant problem, Autumn opted to just sit at the prow of their craft and sing softly out over the waters with Eme by her side. The bard hummed a melodic tune to accompany the singing witch.

    ¡°Sweet as the sound of the pouring rain,

    ¡°And the stream that falls from a hill to plain.

    ¡°Better than rain or rippling brook,

    ¡°Is a mug of beer inside this Took.¡±

    As they came around another bend, Autumn¡¯s singing slowly petered out, for a strange sight was unveiled before them. A towering jungle tree lay across a narrowing in the river that was almost only as wide across as their craft. The narrow section itself wasn¡¯t strange as they¡¯d come across a fair few already in their journey, but before now, they''d never seen a tree damming the waterway.

    Autumn doubted the naiads would appreciate it.

    ¡°This doesn¡¯t feel right,¡± Autumn said, casting her eye to the treeline. ¡°We should be wary of an ambush¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, a giant¡¯s hand speared out from the river bank in a cascade of water. Before anyone could react, the thick hand wrapped around Eme and hauled her from the boat with a scream. Into the jungle, the mud-caked beast bounded, fleeing the violet jinxes crashing around it. Patches on the trees where the magic landed rotted away.

    ¡°After it!¡± Nethlia roared, leaping clear from the boat and onto the bank.

    Autumn was quick behind her thundering steps. Her feet pounded upon roots as she chased after the giant lopping off in the distance. Beside her rushed Liddie, carving what vines and branches that¡¯d survived both the monster and the berserker''s fury.

    ¡°I thought you said the fae can¡¯t harm us!¡± Liddie shouted angrily over their thunderous footfalls.

    ¡°That wasn¡¯t a fae!¡± Autumn panted. ¡°It was a giant! A cyclops, I think! It had only one eye!¡±

    ¡°What can they do?!¡± Liddie grunted, her white-gold blade cleaving a branch in twain. Autumn winced ¡ª the dryads are going to be so mad. ¡°Other than being fuck-off big and presumably strong?!¡±

    A bloodthirsty grin spread across the dark witch¡¯s features. ¡°If I¡¯m remembering things right, they have an evil eye of fear. The dumb fuckers won¡¯t know what hit them!¡±

    Liddie laughed.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go give them the undead angel special, shall we?¡±

    Autumn grinned. Nobody stole what was hers.

    Nobody.

 Chapter Ninety-Eight: Birth of the Sword Bard Legend

    Watabe Eme, Felis beastkin bard.

    Eme struggled fiercely within the monster¡¯s iron grip, her bones creaking as the air was driven from her lungs. Back and forth, the massive beast jostled her as it crashed a path through the tangled undergrowth, making its way deeper into the twisting jungle. Old ruins zipped by the bard as she frantically struggled for her weapon at her waist. Right now, she was glad she¡¯d had the foresight to fasten it to herself upon waking rather than let it sit beside her on the boat as she did while sleeping and resting.

    Legs thicker than tree trunks pounded the earth as the monster ran, propelling all twelve feet of its colossal mass forwards. The arm not squeezing Eme¡¯s waist like a vise broke the stones of ruins and gouged considerable chucks out of the trees it grasped onto.

    Eme caught glimpses of the beast¡¯s lone eye ¡ª a beady thing inflamed by hate. It sat above a thick puggish nose and a maw of jagged teeth and broken tusks framed by a beard of wiry orange hair matted with mud, bones, and the leftovers of whatever had befallen its hunger. The stench that poured off of it watered her eyes, smelling like rotten meat and decaying plant matter.

    Behind her, the calls and shouts of her pursuing party grew distant. While she didn¡¯t doubt they¡¯d chase after the monster to rescue her, Eme could plainly see she¡¯d be on her own for a while, as the beast was surprisingly fast for its size.

    The wind zipped by as it rushed inland.

    As the monster ducked into a set of severely dilapidated ruins of some old temple long since forgotten, Eme finally got her prosthetic hand around the hilt of her sword. In a rush encapsulated by her frantic heartbeats, the bard unsheathed her blade.

    A roar of pain erupted from the giant as bared dragonsteel cut deeply into its fingers.

    Eme¡¯s feet hit the uneven stones of the ruins. She sprung swiftly backwards as soon as she did, falling into a ready stance with her blade held between her and the one-eyed beast glaring at her. Hatefully. Hungrily.

    She swallowed her nerves.

    The cyclops roared.

    It charged towards her, headless of the bones it crushed to powder underfoot. Those of adventurers and travelers who¡¯d fallen afoul of the beast itself or earned the ire of its master. Its fascination.

    Eme yelped as she leapt to the side, moving just in time to avoid the cyclops¡¯ thunderous path. In a maddened fury fueled by pain, the monster lashed out at the bard as it stormed past her, clipping her hip and sending her spinning down onto the rough floor with a painful crash.

    Gasping for air, Eme hurriedly rolled away from the monster¡¯s furious stomping.

    Into the stones and bones, Eme planted her sword. Rising quickly to her feet, she winced as her hip ached. Her gaze locked onto the cyclops just in time to see it thundering towards her again, arms outstretched and murder burning in its eyes.

    And again, the bard conducted her desperate dance.

    Eme winced as she dodged the cyclops¡¯ blow once more, this time scoring it back with a lucky blow ¡ª a line of red ran up the beast¡¯s arm. Yet while the monstrous skin yielded to the Snow Demon¡¯s Fang with ease, the bard hadn¡¯t struck deep enough to cripple it.

    A roar of pain and rage rang clear through the ruined temple.

    Music to the catgirl¡¯s ears. Even if it hurt.

    Enraged, the murderous cyclops grabbed onto broken stones and dirt with its bleeding hand before hurling them all with a roar at the nimble bard.

    Eme¡¯s eyes widened as the shower of deadly projectiles whistled towards her. In a rush, she dived beneath them back into the dirt, shielding her head with her arms. A cascade of stones cracked off the dragon-bone prosthetic. Only a bare few slammed into the rest of the bard¡¯s body and a bleeding opened up upon her forehead by the lucky skim of a pebble.

    For a moment, she was stunned.

    Her eyes had trouble seeing and the pulse in her ears masked the sound of quaking footsteps.

    Dizzy, Eme shook her head as she crawled to her knees. Glancing up, she saw a thick fingered hand descending upon her. Fright coursed through the catgirl¡¯s body. In a panicked flailing, she struck out at the beast and was rewarded with another pained roar. A chunk of flesh she carved out of its bulky fingers.

    The dragonsteel blade shook in Eme¡¯s hands.

    Who would have thought the first time she¡¯d use this blade, any blade, in combat, it¡¯d be up against the lineage of giants, and alone at that?

    Not her, that¡¯s for damn sure.

    It didn¡¯t help matters that the world itself was screaming at her in discordant harmony.

    Eme sucked in a stuttering breath as the cyclops¡¯ eye burned into her. A halting, turbulent hum escaped her as she sang a song of swiftness into her limbs. Just in time too, as it gave her the agility to dodge the fresh volley of rocks hurtling towards her.

    Yet, the music of the world disagreed with her tune, telling her in no uncertain terms that she was tone deaf.

    And while it was no surprise to the bard, it wasn¡¯t really something she wanted to hear while dodging furiously for her life.

    However, it wasn¡¯t all bad news, as the music of reality guided her in how to do it right. Eme obliged, picking up the pace of her tune to match what her newfound gifts were showing her. And as she did, an alacrity flowed through her limbs like she¡¯d never felt before.

    Eme danced.

    Danced like she¡¯d never danced before.

    Which wasn¡¯t far from the truth.

    She wasn¡¯t perfect ¡ª far from it. Oh, how she wished she¡¯d taken up more of Delight¡¯s lessons now. She tripped and stumbled upon the uneven ground more than not, but ultimately avoided a grisly fate at the end of a thrown stone. A smile of exhilaration graced her face.

    Although, maybe she shouldn¡¯t have celebrated so early as a frustrated cyclops let out a roar of wind that sent the poor bard tumbling. Head over heels, she flew. And with a mighty thud, Eme¡¯s tumble was halted ¡ª her back crashing into a wall of fallen rubble, driving the air from her lungs in a spray of spittle.

    A thunderous march heralded the cyclops¡¯ approach.

    With her back flaring in pain and lungs burning for air, Eme defiantly rose on swaying legs. She glared at the approaching giant-kin even as her hands rattled her naked blade loudly. A rattle like the warning of a rattlesnake ¡ª a sharp fang to bite.

    Eme wondered how Autumn managed to make fearlessness seem so effortless.

    The cyclops slowed minutely, but still came on.

    As it drew closer and closer, Eme¡¯s shaking grew and grew until she dug her blade into the dirt with a cry.

    She waited.

    Waited.

    And waited until the monster towered over her. With it so close, it was impossible for the bard to miss.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    She flicked her katana up.

    A clod of dirt and dust sprayed into the cyclop¡¯s eye eliciting a furious roar of pain louder than ever. The walls of the ruined temple rumbled with the sound. It struck out wildly in its blindness.

    Eme¡¯s ears flattened to her skull at the tremendous sound. Dodging backwards away from the wild strikes, she rolled over the broken wall, slumping down on the other side to catch her breath. Behind her, a mighty blow pulverized the rocks upon which she¡¯d sat not a moment before.

    Fear thudded Eme¡¯s heart as she sucked in great gouts of air. Her eyes flickered to the entrances of the ruin. Where were her friends? She anxiously thought. Surely they weren¡¯t that far behind.

    Yet she was all alone.

    Eme wheezed behind the cover of the rubble, trying desperately to quell the cough tickling her throat as she steadied her breathing. The drumbeat of her heart thudded loudly in the chorus of combat, curiously loud in a sudden lull ¡ª she could not hear the thunder of heavy footsteps. Only the great sucking of wind accompanied her frightened melody.

    Frightened curiosity got the better of her and she peeked over the cover of rubble and rock.

    The cyclops stood still in the middle of the ruins, its head swaying to and fro as it sniffed the air in great sucking breaths. Silence reigned as it listened for the hiding bard.

    A cough burned Eme¡¯s throat. She tried her hardest to hold it in, but it came out of her in choking splutters, louder than thunderclaps in the deathly pall.

    The cyclops¡¯ head swung in her direction ¡ª it roared once more.

    ¡°Shit.¡±

    Eme scrambled to her feet.

    The cyclops angrily and blindly fumbled around beside it, searching for something to hurl at the quivering catgirl. Eventually, its meaty hand curled around the trunk of a tree that, over the untold eons, had pushed its way through a gap in the temple¡¯s floor. With a series of great snapping cracks, it tore the tree free, brandishing it like a club. The wind whistled as the oversized weapon cut through the space between the pair of combatants, sweeping rocks and bones aside.

    Eme backpedaled in the wake of its rage.

    But as she distanced herself, she heard the discordant rhythm of its mighty footfalls, the grave verses carved by its might, and the dreadful ballad of its fury. Her panic quelled as she listened. As she heard. By the virtue of the monster¡¯s song, the bard found she could predict its every step. She could see the trajectory of its frenzy.

    So she waited once more.

    Nervous and afraid, but she waited.

    The sword rattled before her. Eme clasped it tight with both hands to quell the noise, the dragonsteel fang biting into her dragonbone finger where it slipped beyond the unguarded grip.

    On the one-eyed beast came like the thunder of the gods.

    Trusting in her newfound senses, Eme stayed put as the swing of the club grew closer and closer. One beat. Two beats. Three beats. Four. And the mighty club swung blindly for her head.

    She did not move...

    ¡­and it missed her by a bare inch. No ¡ª it was less than that. Her ears flickered hurriedly backwards as the club clipped them. A shudder ran down the catgirl¡¯s spine.

    With a viper¡¯s strike, Eme slashed upwards, the razor-edged blade in her hand twisting as it went. A splash of blood wetted the stones swiftly followed by the dull crash of a severed finger. The cyclops¡¯ bellow of pain shook the earth.

    Eme blinked, eyes wild in disbelief. ¡°Did I¡­do that?¡±

    The song screamed.

    Kicking off from the ground, the beast-kin bard hurled herself to the side just before the mighty tree splintered where she had once stood. A whirlwind of booming strikes dogged Eme¡¯s footsteps as she hastily danced backwards. Blinded by both dust and fury, the murderous cyclops sought to end her beneath a pounding club. Her blade was not idle as she backpedaled, striking out at the beast to score a dozen lines of red upon it. Giant¡¯s blood wetted the stones. But the cyclops seemed not to care, only looking to squish her.

    As soon as the next strike crashed down onto the stone floor, Eme stepped upon it as simply as if she was ascending a set of stairs. A manic grin stretched her lips. She ran up the great club with light steps, racing towards its lone eye while striking ungainly and randomly down at the cyclops¡¯ arm.

    Coming face to face with the tightly shut eye of the roaring and recoiling monster, she poised her sword.

    The evil eye snapped open.

    Her sword clattered to the ground.

    Eme¡¯s mind froze as it stared into her. The sight paralyzed her ¡ª all thoughts, bar those of fear, fled her. It was of a fathomless black hole surrounded by a burning world of flame. There was nothing the bard could do to resist the hand that captured her. Pain erupted in her waist as it squeezed.

    Broken, rotted teeth exposed themselves in a victorious grin.

    Screams echoed soundlessly, trapped in the confines of the bard¡¯s mind. No matter how much she willed herself to move, she found she could not. Like leaden weights, her arms and legs dangled limply as the thick, bloodied hand drew her up to the monster¡¯s disgusting mouth. Feet first, it sought to eat her alive ¡ª death rimmed with gnashing teeth yawned below her.

    Please! She screamed in her mind. Someone help me! I don¡¯t want to die! Autumn, Nethlia, help me!!!

    Tears dripped from terrified eyes as her feet disappeared into the cyclops¡¯ maw. A rancid heat washed over her. She could not even close her eyes to the violence to come.

    So it was with wide eyes she watched a splash of violet color wash over the side of the cyclops¡¯ face. Where color touched, the flesh bubbled and blackened from necrotizing magics. The cyclops roared in agony, flinching away from the wound and freeing Eme¡¯s feet from its maw.

    However, it was not the only roar the trapped bard heard.

    Nethlia swung her pole-hammer with the fury of a descending comet. The thick iron-head crashed down onto the forearm that held Eme aloft, sending an almighty crack reverberating throughout the broken temple. The arm went limp.

    Eme yelped as she fell. Yet before her back could slam into the rubble and bones, Nethlia caught her in a powerful and comfortable hold.

    ¡°I got you,¡± Nethlia reassured the quivering catgirl.

    Tears of relief dripped from Eme¡¯s eyes ¡ª never before had she seen such a beautiful sight. The pair watched on as a witch¡¯s wrath descended upon the howling cyclops. Splashes of violet magic hammered into the monster, rotting chunks out of its thick hide or rocking it backwards. It tried to turn its eye of fear upon her, but Autumn was undeterred by the red light washing over her.

    Not far behind came the other members of the party, in various states of exhaustion from their hectic run. The gleam of a white-gold blade shone in the bioluminescence as Liddie grinned.

    The cyclops, seeing itself now outnumbered and heavily injured, turned tail and ran.

    A bombardment of magic dogged its flight. Rocks exploded upon the force of a witch¡¯s pounding jinxes and the crash of thrown runes. Autumn chased it into the jungle.

    ¡°Can you stand?¡± Nethlia asked, jolting Eme from her thoughts.

    ¡°Yeah. I think so.¡±

    Nethlia gently placed Eme down onto her feet, but kept a firm hold on the shaking catgirl. Before too long, Autumn and the others returned.

    ¡°It got away,¡± Autumn said, looking disgruntled.

    Nethlia nodded. ¡°Pity, but we can¡¯t go chasing after it; we¡¯ll get lost in these wilds quickly. Best we head back to the boat.¡±

    Reluctantly, Autumn nodded at her words before her eyes swiftly found Eme¡¯s. She rushed over to the crying catgirl and pulled her into a tight hug. Eme sobbed into the warmth. Behind the pair, Nethlia wrapped her arms around both.

    ¡°There, there,¡± Autumn comforted Eme, stroking her back. ¡°You¡¯re alright now. We¡¯re here. You did good, didn¡¯t she, Net?¡±

    Nethlia ruffled Eme¡¯s ears. ¡°The best. We¡¯ll make a gold-rank outta you yet.¡±

    Eme hiccuped a laugh.

    When her tears finally abated, Eme slowly separated herself from the pair¡¯s embrace and picked her fallen sword back up to sheathe it. The undamaged blade slid home with a satisfying click. There was not much else in the ruins of the ancient temple aside from the scattering of bones. Whatever gear and trinkets they might¡¯ve carried were long since gone. Only a few crude murals scattered the walls, dabbed by blood with a thick finger.

    Eme glanced over at them with a morbid curiosity.

    ¡°Hey, don¡¯t they look like that nymph you were talking to?¡± Eme questioned Autumn.

    Autumn glared up at the murals. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, they do.¡±

    A shiver ran down Eme¡¯s spine. She did not want to be on the other end of the witch¡¯s ire. Perhaps more cuddles were required? Yeah, definitely, she thought.

    ¡°Come on, let¡¯s get back to the boats,¡± Nethlia called out, before turning to Eme. ¡°I¡¯ll carry you back. Autumn and Pyre can look over your injuries back at the boat.¡±

    Eme winced at the reminder ¡ª her waist ached something terrible.

    ¡°Umm, can I have a word with Autumn first?¡±

    Autumn blinked at Eme. ¡°Sure? What¡¯s up?¡±

    Eme started at the odd turn of phrase. She shook her head ¡ª human princesses were weird.

    ¡°Umm, can you do your thing¡­the cleaning spell? I¡­peed myself a little.¡± She blushed.

    ¡°Oh, right! There¡¯s nothing to be embarrassed about,¡± Autumn hastily reassured her. It helped very little to ease her mortification.

    With a few causal flicks of her wand, Autumn cleansed her of the dirt and grime that¡¯d coated her alongside her shameful accident. When she was all fresh and dry, Nethlia carefully scooped her up like she was a princess herself, allowing the tired catgirl to loop her arms around the Inferni berserker¡¯s neck and snuggle into her.

    Eme let out a soft ¡°thank you.¡±

    Nethlia hummed quietly in reply as she made her way out of the temple ruins. The soft sway of her march slowly lulled the exhausted catgirl bard into a gentle slumber as she made her way back down the devastated path towards their boat and the journey they still had to undertake.

    In the near distance, a soft knocking resounded.

 Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Coblynau

    Knock. Knock. Knock.

    Autumn gazed up at the mountain range that glittered in a shroud of mist. Cascading waterfalls ran down the ragged crags and into ravines far below to feed back into the mighty river they¡¯d come. Rickety scaffolding of wooden stairs and dangling cranes crept up the sides of the gemstone cliffs towards a series of mines littering the elemental¡¯s corpse like that of a termite mound.

    A slight drizzle of rain alighted upon her witch¡¯s hat ¡ª condensation from the cavern¡¯s ceiling.

    The party of adventurers had landed upon a dock at the riverbank wherein the noise of mining was the loudest. There they¡¯d found a thin trail leading into the dense jungle. Following it had led them through the twisting Fey-jungle and over a myriad of crumbling stone bridges spanning the deep canyons of spiked stones and rushing water to here.

    Before the tired adventurers now yawned the entrance of a mine, blacker than night, looking like the entrance to a dark hell.

    ¡°Anyone want to enter first?¡± Liddie joked.

    Ignoring the pirate, Autumn stepped up to the entrance of the mine. ¡°Hello! Anyone home?!¡± she yelled into the deep pit, her voice echoing down for an age.

    The knocking stopped.

    Footsteps resounded from within the mine.

    From the dark came a dim light ¡ª candlelight. It bobbed and swayed atop a crude cap as it grew closer. Into the bioluminescent light of the cavern strode a small gnomish man barely scraping past three feet tall. A Coblynau ¡ª a mining fae. From a face almost as cracked as the mountainside itself grew a beard as long as he was, curled into a sharp point before it could grace the gem-dusted ground. Pointed elfin ears twitched as a pair of pure black beady eyes squinted at the party. With a tired grunt, the small man rested his pickaxe against the wall of the mine before turning to face them.

    A rough, squeaky voice like cracking rocks boomed out of the tiny man.

    ¡°It¡¯s about bloody time!¡±

    Autumn blinked, slightly surprised. ¡°You were expecting us?¡±

    The Cobynau grunted. ¡°Of course I was, ya ninnies! Those ghastly pixies wouldn¡¯t stop their hollerin¡¯ about yah! Now come on in, I think I got some tea lying about here somewhere!¡±

    Turning away from them, the gnomish-sized man wandered away towards a small hut built into the side of the tunnel.

    Outside, the group shared a look before following him in.

    The little man stopped by the tiny door to his home. He looked back at the towering adventurers. ¡°Ah, blast it all! Just hold a second!¡± he yelled before thumping on the door to his abode. Before the adventurers¡¯ eyes, the miner¡¯s hut shuddered and grew ¡ª the wood creaking and groaning as it stretched. Once it¡¯d settled, he threw open the door and beckoned them inside.

    ¡°Come! Come! Be welcome, for we have much to discuss.¡±

    Autumn led the way and squeezed herself into the miner¡¯s hut. Behind her, the others swiftly followed ¡ª Nethlia still having to duck despite the hut¡¯s increased size.

    As Autumn¡¯s eyes adjusted to the candlelit gloom, a cramped interior filled with a horde of junk unveiled itself. Broken equipment from mining picks to swords and armor lay scattered in moldy crates alongside collections of cracked crockery, jars of battered cutlery, and all manner of strange damaged items. Gemdust coated the floor. Looking around, Autumn spotted a set of rickety wooden stairs spiraling up the walls towards an open second floor where the tiny man¡¯s tiny bedroom lay. In the center of the stairwell rose a giant copper flue, the mouth of which yawned above a crackling fireplace.

    Careful of the scattered junk, the adventurers picked their way through towards the fireplace and the small table beside it. They sat themselves down wherever they could as the Coblynau busied himself with finding his battered kettle and teas.

    ¡°It¡¯s quite alright,¡± Autumn called out to him, wincing as junk clattered around the room from his search. ¡°We aren¡¯t all that thirsty. We just want to know a few things, then we¡¯ll be out of your hair, as it were.¡±

    ¡°Pish posh! Yer¡¯ve come all this way, ain¡¯tcha? It¡¯s thirsty work trekking up these here hills! And I¡¯d be a poor host iffen I didn¡¯t offer you a drop to wet yer whistle, now wouldn¡¯t I? I ain¡¯t expecting nothing back for it, barring civility, iffen that¡¯s whatcha worried about!¡± he said with a dismissive wave before cackling. ¡°And I ain¡¯t got no hair for ye to be out of, besides whatcha see on my chinny-chin-chin!¡±

    Taking a cracked teapot, the Coblynau set some strange looking tea leaves to simmer.

    ¡®Banshee?¡¯ Autumn queried her ghost in the sanctity of her mind. ¡®Are those leaves fine for us to drink? It won¡¯t lock us into the Fey-realm or kill us, right?¡±

    A startled snort resounded in Autumn¡¯s mind. ¡°What? I was taking a nap, what¡¯s going on,¡± the banshee asked groggily, before pausing awkwardly. ¡°I mean ¡ª Hark, what befalls thee?¡±

    ¡®......the tea leaves. Are they harmful to us or not?¡¯

    ¡°Hmm, alloweth me to investigate. Purple-reddish hue. Infused with elvish spices. Slightly nutty scent. Hints of soothing charm upon it. Yep, it¡¯s Qinnorim Purple,¡± the banshee said, as if that explained everything.

    ¡°I don¡¯t drink tea,¡± Autumn said in a deadpanned tone. ¡°What does that mean?¡±

    ¡°Philistine,¡± the banshee snorted. ¡°The tea yond Coblynau doth maketh for thee is of mortal fare the likes of which thee¡¯ll nev¡¯r see again. Not that thee¡¯ll appreciate its sophisticated flavors,¡± she said in a sulk. ¡°Giveth him the honey thee still has''t. While he isn¡¯t expecting aught in returneth for his hospitality, it¡¯s still good manners. Plus, it¡¯ll goeth well with the Qinnorim Purple.¡±

    ¡°Now I¡¯m going to my room. Don¡¯t wake me unless it¡¯s important,¡± the banshee declared in a huff, slamming shut the connection in spite.

    Question marks appeared over Autumn¡¯s head, not sure what she¡¯d done to set off the ghostly fae.

    And as the kettle began to scream, Autumn took out the pottle of honey and placed it on the tabletop. ¡°We¡¯d be glad to try some tea; I have some honey that¡¯ll go great with it.¡±

    The Coblynau looked at the honey with interest. ¡°Aye, that it would. Ahh, just let me grab ye all some cups!¡± they said, before rummaging once more through their kitchen.

    Onto the small tabletop clinked a series of battered and chipped mugs, cups, and jars. Into each, he poured a splash of steaming tea and spooned in a dollop of honey. The bright purple liquid swirled gently in the cups.

    Seeing the adventurers hesitate, the Coblynau encouraged them. ¡°Go on then! Try it! Oh, but be careful ¡ª it¡¯s hot!¡±

    Autumn took her cracked mug in hand, enjoying the warmth. She turned to the others. ¡°It¡¯s ok; it¡¯s just an elvish tea. We can drink it.¡±

    The Coblynau squeaked at hearing her speak in Infernal.

    ¡°Ach! I¡¯ve left the rest of yeh out of the conversation! It totally slipped my mind that yah¡¯ll might not all speak the Fey-speech! And I haven¡¯t introduced myself neither ¡ª what a poor host I am!¡± he gave a few tugs on his beard. ¡°I am the knower known as Billix! A pleasure to meet yah!!¡±

    Nethlia gave a bright, professional smile. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet with you too. We are the Dusk Wolves adventuring party. To many, I am known as the Omen Hammer, captain of this motley crew.¡±

    Knowing that their names couldn¡¯t be told even to the kindest of the fae, Nethlia fell back on her nickname. After all, it was no lie. Not only that, but she named the others in turn.

    ¡°Here we have the valorous Kraken Eater.¡± She gestured to the side where a pirate lounged.

    Liddie winked. ¡°Howdy~¡± she said between sips of her bright tea.

    ¡°Beside her is the Brave Chevalier.¡±

    Nelva started at the address, but nodded politely to the gnomish man.

    ¡°Then we have the Firestarter.¡±

    Pyre blushed. Her face scrunching up into a pouted scowl. ¡°You light a part of a district on fire one time,¡± she grumbled under her breath. Nethlia studiously ignored her, a smirk tugging at her lips.

    ¡°The bearded fellow next over is the Runelord.¡±

    Edwyn grunted in embarrassment, their tanned cheeks flushing. Yet a smile pulled up the corners of their thick beard. ¡°Howz¡¯t?¡± they grunt-asked. Billix nodded bemusedly at the question.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Nethlia next dropped her hand atop Eme¡¯s head, ruffling the catgirl¡¯s ears. ¡°This one here¡¯s the Dragonblade Bard.¡±

    Eme blushed.

    ¡°And last, but certainly not least, we have the Witch of Fear.¡±

    Autumn glanced askance at her captain. While the name itself did not displease her, she didn¡¯t feel comfortable giving anything more to the fae, any fae. Still, to be polite, she tipped her hat in a nod.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice meeting you.¡±

    ¡°Mighty fine names ye all got there! Strange, but fine,¡± Billix chuckled. ¡°How are ye lot enjoying the Feydark?¡±

    Autumn looked through the steam warming her face. ¡°It¡¯s had its moments. Some trials and tribulations, you could say. But we would rather be on our way home, as we have much to do. We were told you might know a way?¡±

    ¡°Oh? A way out ye¡¯re looking for? Well there are many such holes poked into the worlds as of late. I know of many such crossings ye might take.¡±

    ¡°Specifically, an exit around the abode of the hag known as Mildred the Finger Eater,¡± Autumn clarified.

    ¡°That ol¡¯ hag¡¯s alive still?¡± Billix questioned her. Seeing her nod, they spat before muttering under their breath. ¡°Pah. I guess we¡¯re in that timeline.¡± Louder they said, ¡°yeh, I know the way.¡±

    ¡°Are you willing to tell us?¡± Nethlia asked curiously, quietly sipping from her cracked mug.

    Autumn had yet to try her own. She was contenting herself in enjoying its warmth upon her hands and face. A fluffy tail slipped around her waist. Looking over, Autumn saw an exhausted Eme struggling to stay awake. Quietly, she scooted over and let the catgirl rest upon her shoulder. Eme purred.

    Across from them, Billix laughed at Nethlia¡¯s question.

    ¡°Hehe! Of course I¡¯d tell ya, ya ninnies! Not much point yer all hanging about here. Unless yer all into a spot of mining? No? Pah! I¡¯ll tell ya! I¡¯ll tell ya. But!¡± Billix exclaimed, leaning over the tiny table towards them, fingers of avarice drumming on the table.

    Nethlia didn¡¯t flinch. ¡°Name your price.¡±

    ¡°My price is time!¡± Billix cackled at the suspicious looks upon their faces. They rocked back in their seat as they laughed. ¡°Just a moment or two! Long enough to drink some tea and listen to a tale I¡¯ve to tell yah.¡±

    Autumn narrowed her eyes. ¡°How much tea? For how long? And how long will this tale take?¡±

    Billix cackled once more. A sharp gleam in their eye. ¡°Wise aintcha? No more time than ye¡¯re willing to give ¡ª ye can leave whenever ye want. On the honor of my word. And besides, the tale is one that¡¯ll answer all the questions dancing on the tips of yer tongues. I just donnae want to be interrupted so much; it was annoying last time.¡±

    ¡°Last time?¡± Eme asked drowsily.

    ¡°Never mind that!¡± Billix waved her off. ¡°Whatcha say?¡±

    The group of wary adventurers looked towards one another, silent conversations passing with a few looks. By now they¡¯d experienced much of the Feywild¡¯s trickery and weren¡¯t so keen on diving back into it.

    In the silence, Liddie piped up. ¡°What¡¯s this tale about anyway?¡±

    Billix grinned. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s just about how ye all came to be here. About the twisting of the worlds. In essence? It¡¯s a tale of politics.¡±

    Edwyn and Nelva groaned.

    ¡°What do you think?¡± Nethlia whispered in Autumn¡¯s ear, her hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh.

    Flushing, Autumn chewed on her lip before whispering back.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. On the one hand, I¡¯m worried about how long this will take ¡ª he might just take the time from us directly if we aren¡¯t careful with the wording. On the other hand, we need the information he has. I don¡¯t know if we could even find the way out on our own. And that¡¯s not even mentioning how we¡¯d get out once we got there.¡±

    ¡°So you¡¯re thinking we should take his deal?¡±

    Autumn glanced across the tiny table at the Coblynau as he steepled his fingers. Coal-black eyes watching on curiously from a wrinkled face. She sensed no malice. However, that was far from conclusive proof that the fae harbored strange designs for them as their minds worked alien to the witch¡¯s own sensibilities. But she was willing to take a chance.

    ¡°Yes,¡± Autumn hesitantly nodded. ¡°But we should clarify that we aren¡¯t giving up our time, just listening to him.¡±

    Nethlia smiled. The Inferni berserker turned her steely gaze towards the tiny gnome-like figure squinting up at her towering form. Even while seated she dwarfed the three-foot Billix. Her voice was firm and resolute as she spoke.

    ¡°Alright, Billix the knower. We will listen to your tale for the information we seek. We are not, however, giving you our time. We will only be obligated to listen to you for however long it takes me to drink a mug of tea. Do you agree?¡±

    Billix bounced in their seat. ¡°Oh, yes yes! I ain¡¯t looking to trick nobody, not me! Just got a tale to tell, I do!¡±

    Nethlia grinned. Taking her still steaming mug in hand, she brought it up to her soft red lips. In a single mighty gulp, the muscular demoness downed the entire cup. A belch escaped her in a rush of heat as she placed her cracked mug back down on the tabletop.

    ¡°There, the time it took me to drink a mug of tea.¡±

    The Coblynau cackled. ¡°Hah! I didnae see that one coming, did I?! No matter, no matter. I ain¡¯t trying to trick ya anyhow! Now settle yourself in ¡ª I gotsa story to tell! Grab yourself a refill if ye like.¡±

    Billix cleared his throat, taking a sip of tea before starting his tale. A voice of ages wove a tapestry for the gathered adventures.

    ¡°One could say our tale might start when the shadows first lengthened and the fairy king and queens learnt of spite, but that¡¯d be a long and boring tale. No, our tale starts with a girl. Once, not so long ago, she fell into a place she should not have been and set in course a series of events she should not have. Events that rippled out like a stone cast into a still lake.¡±

    Billix met Autumn¡¯s widening eyes. ¡°Oh yes, that girlie was you!¡±

    ¡°Wha¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hush now! It always takes too long when you interrupt!¡± Billix barked. ¡°Now where was I? Oh yes, the failed hunt. Chased through the grand woods of the summer, this girlie escaped the hunters of summer¡¯s ilk. She embarrassed them mighty in the courts. Now, this wasn¡¯t much in the grand scheme of things, but the spurn of a maiden is a hard thing to dismiss. With her heart all a flutter, the Fair Maiden of Summer when gallivanting to the mortal realm and entreated upon a hag to capture yond girlie now turned witch.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s eyes burned, her blood boiled at the mention of the maiden. Why couldn¡¯t she leave her alone? Why did people have to die for this crazed fairy¡¯s designs?

    Her thoughts burned.

    ¡°Oh yes!¡± Billix cackled at the steel in the witch¡¯s eyes. ¡°She is the reason the hag even knew about ye! Set her upon ye to draw you from the safety of those iron bound walls, she did!¡±

    A cracked mug creaked in her hands as Autumn etched another grudge into the Fair Maiden¡¯s ledger. She vowed to run the Feywild¡¯s waters red with blood.

    Billix grinned. ¡°However, she didnae expect ye to be such a nuisance, did she? With you forcing her pact broken, she was doubly embarrassed. As such, the summer queen was forced to intervene lest she be mocked by the spring king. So, a Wild Hunt was called upon the hag of a thousand pacts and the two worlds were stitched together.¡± He leant over the tiny table to whisper conspiratorially. ¡°Between you and me, I suspect the spring king had a hand in this whole mess; it¡¯s the kinda scheming nonsense he loves.¡±

    ¡°But why?¡± Nelva asked, casting a contemplative look at Autumn. ¡°Why would a king go through all this just to provoke this summer queen?¡±

    ¡°Beats me!¡± Billix laughed.

    ¡°Surely you must have some idea?¡± the Lepus noble knight pressed.

    ¡°Why do rulers do anything?! Because they can! Because it¡¯s fun or new!¡± Billix tugged on their beard in thought. ¡°Hmm, thinking about it, with the summer on the hunt, autumn will come earlier this year. And winter will swiftly follow it ¡ª crueler than ever. How this benefits spring, I know not. Perhaps they¡¯ll have a longer time in the next cycle for mischief? Or perhaps he has some designs to play in a long winter? Who knows?!¡±

    Eme perked up from Autumn¡¯s shoulder. Curious as a cat, she asked, ¡°what of autumn? Does it have a ruler as the others do?¡±

    Autumn was getting rather twitchy at how often her name was coming up.

    Billix laughed, knowing what he knows. ¡°Nay! None save the empty throne! There are those who hold influence in the harvest court, it goes without saying, but none lay claim to rulership.¡±

    ¡°And who might they be?¡± Edwyn asked.

    ¡°The arch-fey known as the Grandmother holds the most sway in that autumnal court, followed closely by the Pumpkin King. And no, he is not the king of autumn, just of spooks and frights. Beware the hallow nights of autumn when he rides to spook and scare,¡± Billix cackled. ¡°Other than them, there are a myriad of other arch-fey and the like, along with its own maiden and knight.¡±

    ¡°There are other maidens?¡± Autumn started, her brows furrowing.

    ¡°Oh yes!¡± Billix chirped. ¡°One knight and maiden for each court and a spare few besides for those not aligned. The spring has the Flower and the Dawn. Summer, the Fair and the Green. Autumn, the Harvest and the Red. And the cold winter has the Snow and the Dusk.¡±

    Clearing her throat, Nethlia gathered everyone¡¯s attention ¡ª although she did have to wave off an offer of another tea before she spoke.

    ¡°Getting back to the point, what does this mean for us? And how do we get back home to our own plane?¡±

    ¡°I was getting to that!¡± the Coblynau grumped. ¡°When the two worlds were stitched together it left a seam behind. Think of it like holes in the fabric where the threads weave. One you came in, and one you¡¯ll leave through. Of course there are many more, but those are far beyond either your means or time to reach.¡±

    ¡°And where might the one we want be?¡± Edwyn asked.

    A long wiry arm pointed off to the north towards where the head of the gemstone corpse lay.

    ¡°Over thither, beyond the Nasurin, the armpit city.¡±

    Eme giggled at the name. ¡°The armpit city?¡±

    ¡°Funny name, right?¡± Billix croaked, eyes hard despite the humor. His sudden shift in demeanor unsettled the party, and they shifted awkwardly, their experienced eyes tracking Coblynau¡¯s movements. The small man continued. ¡°Tis not a funny place, however. A mighty drow slave city, it is. The passage of chains, they call it. Built beneath the only pass under the mountain¡¯s arm.¡±

    Eme¡¯s smile drained away.

    In an instant, the atmosphere of the room changed. Gone was the relaxed air and in its place crept a grim portent. None here were fond of the slaver ilk. Autumn decided not to mention her nation¡¯s or her world¡¯s past with the practice.

    Swallowing her nerves, Autumn asked, ¡°is there no other way past?¡±

    Billix shook his head, long beard wobbling. ¡°None. Going back to circle around the mountain would take too long and yer path home would close. And going over is sure death for the sylphs and harpies take no kindness to others on their cold roosts.¡±

    Autumn grimaced at the news.

    With nothing more to ask, she finally took a sip of the tea ¡ª it tasted like cinnamon. Down her throat a warmth flowed. The magical tea soothed her aches and pains all the way down to her bones and magical channels.

    ¡°What about goin¡¯ under the mount?¡± Edwyn cut in. ¡°Is there no way throu¡¯?¡±

    It was Billix¡¯s turn to grimace at the idea. ¡°Nay! Nay, I say! There be only one way, and tis too deep, too costly to traverse! Banish it from yer minds! No, the only way I see is through the passage of chains.¡±

    ¡°Great,¡± Liddie growled. ¡°Just grand!¡±

    Autumn coughed. ¡°Well, look at the bright side ¡ª we could restock our supplies in the city at a¡­¡­.significant discount.¡±

    Liddie grinned. ¡°Yeah, that sounds mighty fine! Not that we''d steal it, no no no!¡± she added for the Colbynau¡¯s benefit.

    ¡°Fuck em¡¯!¡± Billix yelled. ¡°They enslave by stealing!¡±

    ¡°As opposed to slavery by trickery and bargain?¡± Pyre quipped sarcastically, a flaming eyebrow raised as she blew on her hot tea. Not cooling it, but heating it to a near boiling.

    ¡°Exactly!¡±

    A sigh escaped Autumn, cold like a winter wind. ¡°Fine, I guess we¡¯re passing through the drow city. Now, unless you have anything else to add, we¡¯ll take our leave. It was nice chatting, but we¡¯ve a deadline to meet.¡±

    With nothing more forthcoming from the smaller man ¡ª aside from more offers of tea ¡ª the adventurers bid Billix a fond farewell. Into the bioluminescent daylight they strode, leaving the shrinking hut and towering mountainside behind.

    The pitter patter of rain was the only accompanying sound as they made their way back to the river-dock. Trepidation lay heavy in their hearts and footsteps.

    For a slave city awaited.

 Chapter One Hundred: Nasurin, the Armpit City

    A city of sorrow and spires sat huddled beneath the shadows of the corpse-mountain.

    From one rocky wall to the other, tall spiked towers loomed above a curtain wall of menacing watchtowers and spiked crenellations. On each side and each end of a blood-red river tainted by the city¡¯s sins, stood a pair of tall black bastions, joined by thick iron chains that obstructed the passage of ships into and out of the corrupt city. A pair of sinister metal drawbridges crossed that crimson water further into the city, amongst which a harbor of massive ships lay.

    Into the sky rose high a trio of massive fluted column-like buildings of ebony steel ¡ª the three sisters ¡ª which flared into the descending archway of stone and gems, melding into the stone. Sharp balconies spun off the towering columns to overlook the ominous gloom rising off the darkened streets.

    The streets were dark as night, mostly devoid of the ever-present bioluminescence of the Feydark. Aside from a few glowing fruits serving as streetlights, the darker kin of elves had stripped their city of wilderness like parasites. Miles around the walls of the city lay burnt and barren soil, toiled endlessly by bloodied slaves, their bones dusting the ground.

    In the murky air rang the screeches of bats, pained screams of tortured slaves, roars of chained beasts, and the baying of commerce ¡ª a siren song of a cruel city.

    Here lay Nasurin, the place where good were taken to be broken or die.

    Autumn peered out from behind a frond of giant leaves at the grim city in the distance. The party had stopped ashore, well out of the sightline of the drow city, and crept into the jungle to observe it before risking entry.

    From what she could see, there were three ways into the city ¡ª if you didn¡¯t include sneaking in. The river gate and a set of gatehouses, one on either side of the river. However, concerningly, there didn¡¯t seem to be much traffic from this side of the city either in or out. As such, their approach would be swiftly noted and likely contested.

    Letting the leaves fall back into place, Autumn backed off from the treeline and rejoined her friends.

    ¡°Ok, the city''s bigger than I thought. So? What are we thinking?¡±

    Hidden by the dense foliage, the party didn¡¯t really need to be huddled around one another and talking in hushed tones, but they did so anyway. It seemed like the thing to do.

    ¡°Can we sneak in?¡± Nethlia asked, her face hard-etched, eyes alight with promised fury.

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°Not likely, at least not all of us, and not mundanely. We could swim through the black water, but then we¡¯d have to leave the sleigh behind ¡ª it floats, after all.¡±

    ¡°I cannae swim,¡± Edwyn grunted. ¡°Too heavy besides in this armor.¡±

    Pyre raised her hand. ¡°Me neither. It doesn¡¯t go well with being made of flame.¡±

    ¡°Me third,¡± Nelva said. At the quizzical looks she added with a huff, ¡°what? I¡¯m from a landlocked country. Nor did I spend my youth frolicking in rivers and ponds. It¡¯s not strange at all.¡±

    ¡°Right, ok,¡± Autumn breathed. ¡°So our only option into the Umbral elven city is the front gates?¡±

    Liddie shook her head. ¡°I think they¡¯re drow, not Umbra elves.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡±

    ¡°Umm. Drow are the meaner ancestors of the Umbra? I think. If you can imagine such. Word has it they came from another plane ¡ª not this one mind. Said to be a rather wicked sort¡­I suppose we¡¯ll find out soon, huh?¡±

    Autumn huffed. The city of chains in the distance gave her foul feelings; it practically radiated despair. She could smell the fear on the wind ¡ª a smell of rusted iron. It flowed like a thick miasma and even as far away from it as she was, it still coiled in her veins.

    The pulse quickened her heart.

    ¡°Alright, then we need to head into the drow city, but we can¡¯t exactly go in as we are; we stand out too much. The less scrutiny we come under, the better. Are any of our races on good terms with the drow? Or Umbra, for that matter?¡± she asked the others.

    Nethlia shook her head, giving Autumn a strange look.

    ¡°Not likely,¡± she gestured around the group. ¡°Aside from yourself and Pyre, all of us are from nations either currently at odds with them or have a history of conflict. And we¡¯ve no idea if these ones are the same. If we were in the mortal plane, I¡¯d say we¡¯d lean on our adventurer status, but here?¡±

    ¡°What about wearing a disguise?¡± Eme asked. ¡°We could dress up as Umbra or drow.¡±

    A contemplative look crossed everyone¡¯s faces. Autumn thought it over, but ultimately shook her head.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a bad idea but we don¡¯t know enough about the drow to pass any sort of tests, or at least I don¡¯t. All I know about them is that they are a clan based matriarchal society, but that¡¯s just from reading, not any practical knowledge. Sure, I could pull off a female drow with some make-up, but with no idea of what clan name to call myself¡­¡±

    ¡°You¡¯d be right fooked,¡± Edwyn nodded.

    ¡°Right.¡±

    Sitting upon the wagon of bone, Autumn looked out towards the city, wailing in the distance. To enter such a place of sin, perhaps they¡¯d have to look like sin themselves.

    Inspired, Autumn stuck a hand deep into her pouches and pulled out the collection of dark robes they¡¯d plundered from the necromancer¡¯s wardrobe. Spilling forth onto the wagon were sable-toned hooded robes adorned with all manner of mottled feathers, warped bones, and eldritch symbols.

    ¡°I know! We¡¯ll go in as cultists!¡±

    The others looked at the robes in distaste.

    ¡°What about our skin color and horns or ears?¡± Nethlia asked as she picked through the piles of robes for something in her size. She wasn¡¯t having much luck.

    ¡°Oh! I¡¯ve got a thingy!¡± Liddie chirped eagerly. With haste, she dove into the sleigh and rummaged around in her pack. ¡°Now, where was it? Not here, or here, aha!¡± the pirate exclaimed as she pulled free a battered disguise kit. ¡°I bought this thing ages ago and never used it. Hells, I thought I¡¯d wasted my money on it. It¡¯s got some hair dye, skin coloring, even some fake teeth and ears in it. You name it, I likely got it! Although,¡± she glanced up at Nethlia¡¯s impressive set of horns, ¡°I don¡¯t think I can hide those.¡±

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Nethlia absentmindedly touched her horns.

    Autumn hummed. ¡°Well, how about disguising her as some sort of pacted devil or hellish mercenary?¡±

    The berserker paused, turning to Autumn with a furrowed brow. Eyes squinting at the thought. Around her, the others too looked at Autumn in silence, some more offended than others.

    Autumn flushed. ¡°Look, I know, but this is a den of evil, right? It wouldn¡¯t look too out of place. Hopefully. And it beats pretending to be a slave.¡±

    Nethlia grimaced in distaste. ¡°That¡¯s true. I¡¯d be more offended if you¡¯d suggested that. But what of the others? I doubt anyone would believe Liddie was a devil, no offense, and she is a known figure ¡ª villain ¡ª in the south.¡±

    ¡°Hey! Offense very much taken!¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Autumn hummed, ignoring Liddie¡¯s outburst, ¡°Nelva, Eme, and I can pass as humans ¡ª obviously in my case ¡ª and we can dress Liddie up as some kind of silent assassin. A very silent one. Completely. We¡¯ve got a few non-cursed masks lying around that¡¯ll look the part. And as for Edwyn, we can disguise them as a duergar.¡±

    ¡°What the devils a duergar?¡± Edwyn gruffed, a fuzzy brow ascending into their hairline.

    ¡°They¡¯re underdwarves¡ªer, I mean deep Manus?¡± Autumn corrected at the squinted look Edwyn gave her. She still wasn¡¯t sure if that was an insult or not. ¡°They¡¯ve ashen onyx skin, white hair, and are proper mean and crotchety.¡±

    ¡°Sounds like we only have to do two things then!¡± Liddie smirked at Edwyn, who gave her a stink eye.

    Much to Autumn¡¯s chagrin, it took little to make her look like a cultist. A quick exchange of robes and she was all done, now only slightly more evil-looking, bedazzled as she was in bones and black feathers. Loathed to divest herself of her witch¡¯s hat in favor of the hood, Autumn kept it and simply wrapped a dark scarf around her lower face, effectively ¡°disguising¡± herself as a necro-witch.

    She refused to look deep into that.

    With only a set of fake human ears ¡ª why Liddie¡¯s kit had so many of those, she didn¡¯t want to know ¡ª and some make-up to blend them in, both Nelva and Eme were looking remarkably human. And with a set of robes with deep hoods to hide their real ones, and a grim mask to hide their faces, nobody would likely tell they weren¡¯t. Autumn just hoped humans were a race that frequently visited this city.

    There wasn¡¯t much they could do about Pyre other than throwing a robe over her ¡ª her flaming hair was far too iconic and bright to hide. On the plus side, as her people lay scattered across the continents, it was unlikely she¡¯d be tied with the Echa Empire like the others would be.

    Under Autumn¡¯s guidance, Liddie dyed a grumbling Edwyn¡¯s hair white and tinted their skin a dull gray. Duergar were typically bald atop their heads, but there wasn¡¯t much they could do about that as Edwyn wasn¡¯t willing to shave themselves. However, once they applied a set of white contacts, the Manus Runelord looked startlingly different.

    Edwyn looked at their beard¡¯s new color like she¡¯d killed his favorite puppy.

    ¡°This¡¯ll come off, right?¡±

    Liddie pursed her lips. ¡°Should do in a couple of days or with the remover.¡±

    ¡°Should?! What do you mean; should?!¡± Edwyn growled.

    ¡°Should, as in, I don¡¯t exactly know! I¡¯ve not had much use to dye my hair alright!¡±

    ¡°Quiet down, you two!¡± Nethlia barked. ¡°Do you want the entire city to hear us?¡±

    Divested of her berserker armor ¡ª although calling it that seemed like a misnomer as it left her mostly half-naked all the time ¡ª Nethlia stood with a hand on her muscular hip, glaring at the two. Autumn couldn¡¯t help the blush that alighted upon her cheeks. In order for her gay heart to calm, the witch busied herself picking through the robes and masks for something that¡¯d fit the towering demoness. Nothing did. So, with knife and needle, she tailored a garment to make Nethlia look decidedly more devilish.

    A set of now sleeveless robes twisted about the demoness¡¯ form, slit open at the thighs to allow her legs room to move with alacrity. Her horns pierced through a deep hood, plunging her upper face in a dark shadow while an ivory half-mask shaped like a grinning jaw hid the rest. The glow of her orange eyes glared out from the dark. Down her stomach and around her waist ran a set of ornate ribs, etched with chaotic symbols in a mimicry of armor.

    ¡°I look stupid,¡± Nethlia grumbled.

    Autumn huffed in response as she put the finishing touches on Nethlia¡¯s outfit. ¡°You look hot, to be honest.¡±

    ¡°Hot? I do feel kinda stuffy.¡±

    ¡°I meant you look attractive.¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s eyes crinkled up in a smile, glowing from deep within the hood. The sight did something funny to Autumn''s stomach like she¡¯d swallowed a bunch of butterflies.

    ¡°I know ¡ª I could tell from the aggressively sexual tone you used.¡±

    Autumn blushed.

    ¡°Are you two done?¡± Liddie grumbled.

    In the time it took Autumn to tailor Nethlia¡¯s robes, she¡¯d changed into a set of her own. Like the others, she hid in a deep hooded robe of ornate bones, gilded gold, and dark symbols. However, unlike the others, she¡¯d donned a complete death mask to cover her face, the orange glow of her eyes peering through the slits.

    ¡°We¡¯re burning daylight while you two play grab-ass. Well, we¡¯re not, but you get the point.¡±

    ¡°Careful,¡± Nethlia growled. ¡°Provoking me when we¡¯re having a moment won¡¯t end well for you. Next time I¡¯ll throw you in the river, water-breathing or not, you¡¯ll not like it.¡±

    Liddie held her hands up in surrender. ¡°Ok, ok. I give. Maybe you two can go on a date in the city.¡±

    Nethlia grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t know how romantic a stroll through a slave city would be.¡±

    ¡°Maybe if you were breaking chains, it might be,¡± Autumn said, shrugging.

    ¡°Huh. That does sound nice.¡±

    ¡°Can I come too?¡± Eme quietly asked, looking sort of adorable swallowed by her grim robes. Although she¡¯d cut the sleeve off her prosthetic side for a greater range of movement. ¡°Not to be a bother or anything.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯d be glad to have you,¡± Autumn chirped.

    ¡°Not to be growled at by your seven-foot-lover, but we¡¯re all set,¡± Pyre piped up from within the bone sleigh. ¡°Which gate are we heading towards, and how are we propelling this sleigh? Having Nethlia drag it over land is an option but the look of it¡­¡±

    ¡°The river gate is raised, from what I saw,¡± Autumn said. ¡°We¡¯ll want to take the south-eastern gate. And as for moving the sleigh? I could look through the necromancy spell-book ¡ª it¡¯d look the part, at least,¡± she offered.

    Seeing as nobody had any objections, nor any other solution, Nethlia quietly clapped her hands.

    ¡°Alright. You heard the lady, try to look for some bones or something while she reads. horse-sized would be great.¡±

    ¡°Or reindeer,¡± Autumn joked, although she felt disgruntled when nobody got it.

    Plopping herself down into Nethlia¡¯s lap within the sleigh ¡ª the big Inferni staying behind to guard her ¡ª Autumn opened her spell-book and began to read.

    ¡°Raise Skeletal Mount,¡± she read outloud. She was almost certain there was a raised Spectral Steed in her Tome of Witchcraft. Or was it find Shadow Steed? She¡¯d look it up when she got back. Maybe she could merge the two spells somehow.

    Raise Skeletal Shadow Steed?

    Thoughts for another day.

    Nethlia¡¯s hands were warm as they traced lines atop her stomach, trying to sneak into her clothes. Autumn was of half a mind to let her ¡ª to burn away the horrid memory of the nymphs caress with a berserker¡¯s rough touch.

    Autumn took Nethlia¡¯s hands in hers.

    Her top became untucked and a pair of warm, calloused hands snuck inside to gently grasp her breasts. The witch moaned into her lips.

    ¡°D-don¡¯t go further than that ¡ª the others will be back soon.¡±

    ¡°Oh? I can do a lot with just these,¡± Nethlia purred into Autumn¡¯s ear. A bit upon the sensitive lobe sent her squirming. She bit back a moan as her peaks stiffened under expert fingers. ¡°They¡¯re perfect.¡±

    It proved to be rather hard to read with hands playing beneath her shirt, but Autumn was always up for a challenge¡­ok, that was a lie, but she was up for this one.

 Chapter One Hundred and One: Sorrow and Iron Abound

    ¡°And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.¡±

    Pale horses bit the blackened earth with sharp hooves, dragging the bone sleigh onward towards the city of spires and sorrow. A myriad of strange bones dug from the loamy earth stood now wreathed in a cloak of writhing shadows. Autumn was unsure what creatures they¡¯d come from exactly but had bound them together into a pair of roughly equestrian shapes ¡ª nevermind the sharp horns or jagged spines.

    They weren¡¯t the best ¡ª her wand had thrown a fit at the warping of undeath. And as a result, they were more akin to shadow constructs than undead. Sort of like she¡¯d made for herself and Eme, if extremely simpler.

    Autumn sat at the head of the craft, a set of reins held loosely in her grasp. She didn¡¯t need them to control the pale horses, but they looked the part. And it was proving ample distraction from her lustful thoughts.

    Embarrassingly, her nerve had fled her quickly under Nethlia¡¯s firm caress, chasing away the demoness¡¯ hands with it. Not that it¡¯d stopped her thoughts from turning lascivious.

    Nethlia seemed unbothered, amused even by the witch¡¯s sudden shyness. She¡¯d contented to simply hugging Autumn as the girl read her spell-book with blushing intensity. And when Autumn had finally squirmed out of her grip when the other returned, a disparate collection of dirty bones in their arms, she¡¯d simply snatched up a catgirl to cuddle instead.

    Their differing sizes made for a peculiar scene, as if the berserker was embracing a toy. Autumn wondered if she looked the same in Nethlia¡¯s grasp. Everything would look small in comparison to the large demoness, she mused.

    She also wondered when they¡¯d gotten so close. Not that she was jealous or anything; she was just curious.

    Autumn shook away her wandering thoughts and got her game face ¡ª what little of it that could be seen ¡ª on.

    Ahead of them, the southeastern gatehouse loomed. Spiked walls of darkened metal bristled with drow guards, armed with deadly dark-steel crossbows and wicked spears as they watched the unhurried approach of the strange hovering wagon. Positioned on either side of a smaller door set within the grand gates, a pair of drow stood, anticipating their arrival.

    Steadily, the party crept over the barren plain towards them.

    ¡°Alright, let me do the talking,¡± Autumn whispered back to the others as they drew near.

    Taking all her fear, trepidation, and anxiety, she tucked it securely away.

    When they were within range of the crossbows on the wall, one of the drow guards on the ground held up a hand and shouted. ¡°Halt!¡± they called.

    Whilst pulling the reins in a show, Autumn halted the pair of shadow steads with her mind. Now closer, she could see the pair of guards were male drow clad in a black leather coats and sinister-looking metal armor. While not pointing their weapons directly at her, they still held their crossbows in her direction.

    Challenging her inner arrogance, Autumn shouted, ¡°you dare!!¡±

    The male drow guards shifted uneasily at her feminine tone, but they kept their weapons raised.

    One stepped bravely forward. ¡°What is your business here?¡±

    Autumn snorted. ¡°Do you always ask stupid questions? Or am I just lucky today? What else might we want in Nasurin, huh?! Let us through or wrath be upon you!¡±

    ¡°You are strangers dressed strangely and coming from a strange direction. Speak your intentions!¡±

    ¡°You are courting death!¡± Autumn spat, not really knowing what she was saying. A hundred cliche lines flowed through her head. ¡°Kowtow a thousand times and I might let you live! Is there no betters to speak with me?! Or does this city not have any shame?!¡±

    Desperately trying not to cringe, Autumn turned her head towards Nethlia and whispered, ¡°pst, Net, give them a menacing growl.¡±

    Nethlia obliged, giving a terrifying, rumbling growl that shook the air. Shaken by the sound, the drow guardsman jumped. Paling he scurried back through the open door.

    An awkward moment lingered as they faced off with tense drow guards. Autumn resisted the urge to curl into herself. She resolved to not let anyone know just what she¡¯d said to them.

    Death would be a mercy.

    After a short while, the captain of the gatehouse emerged, heading towards them.

    As Autumn had predicted, the captain was a female drow. Dressed in luxurious but fairly revealing dark silks, chainmail, and spiked armor, the female drow gave off a far more intimidating aura than her masculine counterparts while still exuding a sinister sexuality. She stopped before the edge of the wagon, one white eyebrow arched on her royal-purple skin.

    Taking the hint from her body language, Autumn disembarked from the wagon to stand level with her. Nethlia habitually joined her to loom over her shoulder in a show of force.

    ¡°You wished to speak with me human?¡± the female drow captain drawled.

    ¡°I wished to speak to someone beautiful and in charge. I can see one of those things is true, and if you can let us into the city, then the other is as well,¡± Autumn said with a playful smirk creasing her eyes.

    The drow smiled.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure we can come to an arrangement. Captain Iymidril Zauiryn Dhalmond, at your pleasure. You can call me Mistress Iymidril,¡± she purred. ¡°And you are?¡±

    ¡°Necromancer-witch Autumn, the Witch of Fear. I suppose you can call me Witch Autumn.¡±

    Iymidril blinked. ¡°My, what a positively intriguing title. And your compatriots?¡±

    ¡°Mercenaries and servants, not really important,¡± Autumn waved dismissively.

    ¡°Oh? Even the tall demon-folk hovering protectively over you? I don¡¯t see a collar adorning her pretty neck and their kind don¡¯t favor yours from what I recall. Even their mercenaries wouldn¡¯t take your coin before beheading you.¡± Provocative interest and suspicion colored the drow woman¡¯s voice as she peered up at Nethlia.

    The berserker glared down.

    Autumn snorted, although on the inside she sweated. ¡°It would be strange, wouldn¡¯t it? If, in fact, she was a demon-kin.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s a pacted-devil, not some lowborn demon filth. My prize possession. Don¡¯t worry ¡ª her pact-binds are secure and she¡¯ll only do what I tell her to. Provided, of course, nobody threatens my life. Then? Well, nobody has had a second chance.¡±

    Iymidril gave Nethlia another look, this time one far more keener and appraising. Fascination and a sadistic lust flashed behind the drow¡¯s eyes.

    Nethlia growled deeper at the sight.

    ¡°What is she? A cross between a succubus and a pit fiend?¡± she asked, curious like a young girl shopping for a new dress.

    ¡°Does it matter?¡± Autumn asked, her voice no longer as cordial as before.

    Lymidril eyed her a moment before shrugging. ¡°I suppose it doesn¡¯t. We got a bit sidetracked ¡ª what was the problem again?¡±

    ¡°Your ¡®men¡¯ here seem to think we are strange simply cause we come from a strange direction, as if they aren¡¯t aware of the twisting nature of this maleficent realm and didn¡¯t let us through on sight. Hardly welcoming.¡±

    ¡°Did they now?¡± the captain purred, this time far more dangerously as she cast a languid look at the cowering guardsmen. ¡°Well, that won¡¯t do, now will it? I¡¯ll have to re-educate them on how to greet proper visitors. If you are proper visitors, that is,¡± she arched her slim white eyebrow in Autumn as she spoke.

    Autumn gave her a wry smile. Reaching into her robes, she pulled out a handful of golden coins looted from the necromancer¡¯s tower. Notably, the ones bearing the ancient necromancer nation¡¯s symbols.

    With one fluid movement the witch palmed them into the captain¡¯s feminine hand.

    Iymidril pocketed them without a blink.

    ¡°I see. Your passes seemed to be in order.¡± Turning around she gestured to the male guards by the gate. ¡°Move it your fucking worthless dogs! Open the gates on the double or you¡¯ll get the cat-o-nine again!¡±

    The drow guardsmen scrambled to attention. Soon the massive gates screeched open to reveal the twisted city of dimly lit streets beyond. Autumn found the buildings alien ¡ª lined with sharp blades, spires, and pikes of black metal as they stretched up amongst the trio of towering columns. The pale streetlights cast a gloomy glow on the cobbled streets, revealing gaps between the stones filled with dried blood.

    The tang of iron and fear filled the air.

    Iymidril turned to Autumn, offering her a sharp smile and a few parting words on a sly tongue. ¡°Let me be the first to welcome you to Nasurin. May you find all the wealth and misery you want within,¡± she grinned. Her eyes flickered briefly towards Nethlia before returning to Autumn¡¯s glower. ¡°Perhaps we might see one another sometime for some¡­fun with your pacted-devil?¡± she licked her lips. ¡°I¡¯ll be around~¡±

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Without waiting for Autumn to reply, the drow captain sauntered away, hips swaying. She disappeared up the stairs and into the menacing gatehouse.

    Autumn breathed a silent sigh of relief.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯re through,¡± Autumn whispered to Nethlia as they made their way back aboard their hovering sleigh. When she settled atop her stop at the front, she gave a flick of her reins and set the pale horses into a slow walk.

    A myriad of dark-hued people bustled around the dark city¡¯s poorly lit streets. This close to the city¡¯s southern and least used gate, the streets were fairly sparse, and those that lingered here were not of the high-class types ¡ª see female. However, the few drow women that walked the empty streets got a wide berth from the male drones, merchants, and slaves.

    To either side of the gate entrance sat a barracks, noted by the collection of guards that were watching them lazily, now more relaxed that their female captain had returned to her presumably lavish office. To the north stretched a long street that twisted all the way to the other side of the city.

    The Street of Iron.

    Here, merchants, shopkeepers, artisans, and slavers plied their trade, hawking their wares to all passing through.

    For every merchant, guard, and citizen, noble or poor, there was a slave. Perhaps even more. Under the watchful eyes of patrolling guards armed with cruel whips and hooked spears, they obediently trailed their masters and mistresses, performing whatever menial tasks they were bid, eyes empty and glazed. Heavy iron collars scarred their skin while iron chains rattled, adding to the oppressive atmosphere.

    And they were all sold at the market in the center of the dread city. The market sat between a pair of drawbridges spanning the bloody river and beside a harbor teeming with massive slave ships.

    Of the slaves Autumn could see, most were human or Lepus. However, she spied amongst the crowd deeper in different races. Inferni, Felis, Elves of all kinds, the occasional Manus and even a few humanoid fae bound in cold-iron ¡ª the metal burning them with constant agony.

    The leather reins squealed in Autumn¡¯s grip. Behind her, the others swore under their breaths. There was nothing they could do to help them. Not now. Not here.

    It broke Autumn¡¯s heart.

    Turning a blind eye, she ushered the party deeper into the city.

    Broken eyes watched her go.

    ¡°How did you know that¡¯d work?¡± Nethlia asked Autumn.

    ¡°What? The bribery?¡± At Nethlia¡¯s nod, she continued with a shrug. ¡°I didn¡¯t, but these sorts of places are rife with corruption from what I¡¯ve read. It¡¯s hard to inspire loyalty when it comes at the end of a whip.¡±

    ¡°Right. So, where to now? Are we heading straight through?¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°Nah, I bet the captain¡¯ll send someone to tail us. To see if she can shake us down for more gold or other benefits. She looked ambitious to my eyes ¡ª I doubt she¡¯s happy to be stuck guarding a gate nobody uses much. No, we should find a place to stay and buy some supplies while we are at it. Look the part, you know?¡±

    Further into the city, the crowds were growing denser.

    ¡°Do you mind striding ahead of us? Clear the way with Nelva? I¡¯m worried about pickpockets, or worse,¡± Autumn asked.

    Nethlia nodded, poking Nelva as she leapt from the wagon. The pair strode ahead of the group, pushing those too slow aside with a growl. On the wagon, Liddie sat with a hawk-like gaze roaming over the crowds looking for light-fingered thieves. A few thrown stones cracking their hands dissuaded them fast.

    Their intimidating presence worked, and soon they were making their way into the center of the small but towering city. One of the three massive column-like buildings loomed over them as they found an inn suitable for their party.

    A sign read: The Darkmare Inn.

    Autumn pointed to it. ¡°Here! We¡¯ll rest here to get our bearings. Does anyone see a stable or something?¡±

    ¡°Over there,¡± Pyre called, nodding towards the side of the inn where a dark alleyway yawned. Deeper in, Autumn could just make out the sight of a small stable adjoined to the large inn.

    Taking her cue, Nethlia led the party through the growing bustle of the street towards it. The sounds of pained cries and cruel laughter lingered at their backs as they slipped into the side street. After stabling their wagon, and gathering up what they couldn¡¯t afford to lose, the party made their way into the inn. However, not before threatening a poor stableboy.

    ¡°If anything gets lost, I¡¯m skinning you first.¡±

    The small drow boy nodded rapidly without a word at Autumn¡¯s hiss.

    The interior of the Darkmare Inn was as shady as Autumn expected. Not just in lighting¡¯s sake. Watchful individuals crowded the tables beneath a haze of sweet-smelling smoke as they dined, drank, and gambled. The smell couldn¡¯t cover up the scent of stale ale that wetted the floor, nor the smell of blood that lingered everywhere. Like the crackle before lightning struck, the atmosphere of the tavern-slash-inn was pregnant with the promise of riotous blood.

    At any second, this place could erupt into a deadly brawl.

    Although, the sharp edges of the staff¡¯s blades and eyes kept things cordial for now.

    Through the cluttered room moved scantily clad slaves of beautiful temperament, both male and female. Downcast eyes fixed themselves on the stone floor, slick with ale and blood, as they picked their way through the tangled maze of tables, chairs, and wayward limbs. Not one lay unburned by bruises or blood granted to them by ill-mannered patrons.

    And while coin bought many a thing, this was not a brothel.

    When one rowdy patron sought to take advantage of a passing wench-slave, a burly bouncer swiftly broke the fingers he lay upon her. His pained screams and the cruel mockery of his peers played the tune of the adventurer¡¯s entry.

    All eyes swiveled to take in the strange crew.

    Autumn ignored them and confidently strode towards the barkeep and presumed owner of this fine establishment. Although, her confident stride faltered as her eyes settled upon said owner.

    Behind the bar stood another female drow ¡ª snow white hair alighting upon plum-colored skin and fine features. However, unlike the gatehouse captain, the owner of the bar-slash-inn was clad in far less clothing. Her provocative apparel left nothing to the imagination; she¡¯d look far less erotic if she was actually naked.

    Her violet eyes took in the collection of robed ¡®cultists¡¯ walking towards her.

    ¡°Welcome to the Darkmare Inn. My name¡¯s Zillia Dinorgh. How may I help you fine spellcaster today?¡± Her voice was like silk as it whispered upon Autumn¡¯s ears.

    Autumn cleared her throat, glad that the hood and scarf hid her rising blush.

    ¡°Rooms, food, and stable space, for starters. We left our wagon out back ¡ª it¡¯s the one with the skeletal horses.¡±

    The owner, Zillia blinked, but took that introduction in stride. ¡°And how many rooms do you want? We¡¯ve two beds per room.¡± Her gaze roamed over Nethlia. ¡°Although I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll fit.¡±

    ¡°She stands guard,¡± Autumn deadpanned. ¡°Hmm, we¡¯ll take three rooms. How much?¡±

    Zillia squinted at them, taking in the state, and more importantly, the wealth of their attire. A small smile graced her lips as she found whatever she was looking for.

    ¡°Two gemstone coins per cycle for three rooms.¡±

    Autumn slowly blinked. ¡°Do you take gold coins?¡±

    ¡°Certainly,¡± Zillia giggled, the sound tingling Autumn¡¯s spine. ¡°That¡¯ll be five gold coins per cycle for three rooms.¡±

    Beneath her hood, Autumn¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°Five? You trying to rip me off?¡±

    The drow woman shrugged, the action doing wonderful, terrible things to Autumn¡¯s attention span as her breasts threatened to spill loose of her sheer apparel. Autumn sweated as she locked her eyes on the drow¡¯s.

    ¡°If you don¡¯t like my price you can go somewhere else.¡±

    Autumn grumbled, but fished around in her robes for the coins. ¡°Does that come with food, at least?¡± she asked as she placed the money on the bartop.

    ¡°Nope,¡± Zillia popped the word as she swiped the coins away and handed over a trio of keys. ¡°Food is a silver by the plate, and the stable fee is a gold per cycle.¡±

    Autumn had been hearing the word ¡®cycle¡¯, but the meaning came across to her as something akin to a-day-and-a-night, seeing as the Feydark had no sun nor moon. And as the drow ¡ª and Umbra ¡ª were averse to the sun anyway, it was likely a word they used back on the mortal plane too in their dark cities. She recalled hearing something about them sometime ago, but she couldn¡¯t remember when.

    ¡°Send seven¡ªno, eight plates up to our rooms. Nothing from the Feywild; imported only. Meat, breads, vegetables¡ªno mushrooms. Plus a couple dozen pints of beer or ale. I¡¯ll pay extra for the service.¡±

    Autumn placed enough gold pieces on the bartop to cover them no matter how much food and beer they consumed. The gold disappeared just as quickly as the last.

    Zillia smiled, leaning over the counter.

    With a will like dragon-forged steel, Autumn kept her eyes above her neckline.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be up shortly, honored customers. Your rooms are the first ones on the left up the stairs.¡±

    Autumn practically dashed away at a fast walk. Amused eyes watched her go.

    After ascending the stairs, the party convened in one of their newly booked rooms. At Autumn¡¯s nod, Edwyn took the time to layer a series of silencing runes around the room while she set her alarm ward across the window. When the runes finally flashed, they discussed their plans.

    ¡°We need to stick together. This place isn¡¯t safe to wander around alone,¡± Nethlia started them off. ¡°Tomorrow, or whenever we wake, I want to take a look at the northgates. See if we can¡¯t just leave through them.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, I¡¯ve a bad feeling about that,¡± Autumn mused.

    Nethlia turned to her. ¡°How so?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve no idea, it¡¯s just a gut feeling.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine ¡ª it¡¯s what recon is for.¡± Nethlia turned to the others. ¡°Does anyone other than Autumn understand what they were saying? I¡¯ve got nothing.¡±

    Edwyn grumbled. ¡°Yeh, I understood some of it here ¡®n¡¯ there. Not what the drow lot were gabbin¡¯ on about, but some of the whispers from the crowd were in undercommon.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good! Anyone else?¡±

    Liddie rocked on her heels, keeping an eye on the street through the window. ¡°I heard some of the humans speaking a southern dialect of common. I still remember some of it from the war. Enough to get me by at least.¡±

    ¡°Awesome,¡± Nethlia clapped. ¡°Tomorrow we¡¯ll split up. No, Autumn, don¡¯t interrupt. Let me finish.¡±

    Autumn shut her mouth with a click. She¡¯d been about to say the ingrained phrase of ¡®Don¡¯t split the party!¡¯

    ¡°We¡¯ll go in teams. Liddie, you take Pyre and see if you can¡¯t find any sort of alchemy shop, get some essential supplies, or scout out for rumors while Autumn, Eme, and I will head north to check out the gatehouse and the north-end shopping district. Nelva, Edwyn, you two stay here. I need you to keep our sleigh unstolen. If you can pick up any rumors, that¡¯d be good too. We¡¯ll leave some money for food and drinks. Any problems with that? Autumn?¡±

    Autumn jumped guiltily. ¡°Um, I think you¡¯re right ¡ª in that this place is super-duper dangerous. I can make a semi-permanent mental-link with everyone, sort of.¡±

    ¡°How semi-permanent? Are we talking minutes, hours, days?¡± Liddie asked.

    ¡°A few hours, I think. This¡¯ll be my first time casting it. Um, there might be some¡­risks-slash-side-effects.¡±

    ¡°What kind?¡± Eme asked curiously.

    The catgirl plonked herself down on a bed, but leapt clear from fast. ¡°I think a bug touched me!¡± she cried. Autumn comforted her, patting her ears as she vowed to hit the bed multiple times with her cleaning spell. Or just sleep on the floor.

    Getting back on point, she answered her. ¡°Well~ the spell description for my upgrade mentioned a teensy tiny bit of mind control.¡±

    ¡°Mind control!!¡± Pyre shouted, aghast and a little excited strangely.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t do it! Obviously, but I thought you should all know.¡±

    Nethlia ruffled her hair. ¡°And we appreciate you telling us.¡±

    A knock at the door interrupted them. After the others had taken defensive positions, just in case, Autumn opened the door. Before her stood a cadre of slave girls, bearing all manner of meals and jugs of ale and beer.

    ¡°Bring it in, then leave,¡± Autumn ordered.

    The slaves quickly obeyed. None dared to look them in the eye. Before long, the party was alone once more, this time with an array of delicious, mouthwatering meals and drinks before them. Autumn''s stomach let out a growl that rivaled what Nethlia could produce.

    However, before the others could descend upon it like a pack of starving hellhounds, Autumn called out, ¡°wait! Let me check it for poison first!¡±

    Opening up her spell-book, she quickly found the pages on poisons and diseases. Memorizing it as fast as she could, Autumn cast a general detect poison and disease spell upon the food.

    It came back all clear.

    ¡°It¡¯s good!¡±

    Surrounded by a sea of wolves in a treacherous slave-city, they had themselves a party.

 Chapter One Hundred and Two: The Slave Bazaar

    Many a horrid tale spoke of the perils of splitting a party. Some of which Autumn had experienced herself. Twice, in fact.

    Yet lo, the party hath been split once more.

    After they¡¯d woken and gorged themselves on an overpriced breakfast in the safety of their rooms, Autumn had divvied out a healthy portion of their wealth. She had made sure each of them had some necromancer coinage on hand. Just in case. And, with their permission, she¡¯d whispered a tether into their minds. Autumn refused to call it a mind worm.

    Edwyn and Nelva found themselves a table in the common room and ordered a few plates of finger foods and beer. Their job was to watch over their gear, taking turns in the adjoining stable or otherwise listening for rumors in any language they understood.

    The rest were to head out into the dark city in search of supplies. Out they strode, clad in dark robes and bones. All the while watched by greedy eyes. Around the room, shady individuals vacated shaded tables with furtive movements and hurriedly exited the back of the inn for places unseen.

    Autumn blinked as her eyes adjusted to a new gloom.

    The dark streets unveiled themselves before the witch¡¯s dark eyes. At this hour, there were few individuals lurking on the streets, even in a sleepless city.

    With nary a word, the two groups separated. Liddie and Pyre headed south in search of alchemists and artisans while Autumn, Nethlia, and Eme went north. Their task for the day was to investigate the northern exits to the city and secure enough supplies for however long they had left in the Feywild. Not that any of them knew how long that was.

    Regretfully, given the place they¡¯d found themselves, and the image they were projecting, Autumn could not hold the hands of either girl.

    As they walked along the desolate streets, they were eyed by the armed drow guardsmen lining the streets.

    Nethlia eyed them back, her eyes glowing through the slits of a death mask proved the greater intimidation. Effortlessly, she hefted her pole-hammer to rest upon her shoulder. In a low tone, she spoke so that only the two girls beside her could hear.

    ¡°Keep close and don¡¯t dawdle. What do we need to buy exactly?¡±

    Autumn fell into step with the demoness¡¯ long strides.

    ¡°Supplies mainly. We need more rations, rope, and spare clothing; my socks and boots are in a shocking state, even with my magic. We might as well get the others a pair or two while we are at it. Theirs aren¡¯t far from scrap leather, anyway. Also, Eme needs a new pack as hers got washed away.¡±

    The catgirl blushed beneath her hood.

    ¡°If we can swing it, we might want to look into getting some better armor. I salvaged some parts of her bone cuirass, but the stomach section was completely shattered. If they have some chainmail better than this black-iron stuff, that¡¯d be good. Do you think we could get one of those crossbows the guards have?¡±

    Eme eyed the guards as they passed them by. She subtly shook her head. ¡°I doubt it. That¡¯s the sort of thing guards like to keep to themselves. Especially from outsiders.¡±

    ¡°Probably,¡± Autumn hummed. ¡°Although, I bet they ¡®lose¡¯ a few to the local gangs and come into sudden wealth.¡±

    Nethlia snorted. ¡°I ain¡¯t taking that bet. Heads up, there are a bunch of guards up ahead. Best look lively, or deathly, in this case.¡±

    The district of coin sat ahead of the party, massive in scope. From the northeastern gate at the city¡¯s edge, it rolled down the Street of Iron towards the largest of the three sisters and out towards the river¡¯s bank. Buildings of harsh-edged stone, twisting metal, and murky glass glinted in the gloom of bioluminescent streetlights as they cowered beneath the shadow of the largest column-like building. The enormous tower took up an entire block, ringed by a fortified wall and patrolled by equally well-armed drow guards.

    Shivering slaves stood in the gloam, cautiously, yet desperately, trying to incite customers into the shops. Others futilely swept at the grime clinging to steps and stones.

    Merchant¡¯s eyes glittered with greed. They watched like savaging vultures as the crowd grew.

    Eme leant towards the group as she whispered. ¡°Do you think that¡¯s where the clan matron would be? In the massive tower?¡±

    ¡°Seems likely enough,¡± Autumn replied. ¡°Best not to look too long. Nor linger. Let¡¯s get to shopping; I think I see a wholesaler.¡±

    ¡°A what?¡±

    Autumn smiled secretly.

    For the next few hours, she led them on a meandering path up the Street of Iron. Into and out of various shops, they dipped. Looking for and ultimately buying anything and everything they need. And whatever caught their eye. All the necromancer¡¯s horde needed spending somewhere, best to spend it where it¡¯d not get more than a second look.

    Frustratingly, Eme was right. None of the local blacksmiths or weaponsmiths would sell them anything beyond knives, daggers, or the odd handaxe. No matter what price was offered. For guardsmen use only, they said.

    Still, it wasn¡¯t all bad news.

    Thanks to Autumn¡¯s firm grasp of the local dialect, and the trio¡¯s collective intimidation, they got all of what they needed for a steal. Much to the local merchant¡¯s grumbling.

    Over Nethlia¡¯s broad shoulders, they slung a collection of packs filled with dried foodstuff and gear. For the past few days, the group¡¯s meals had been rather lean. Their supplies weren¡¯t in dire straits just yet, but it didn¡¯t hurt to be safe. As such, she¡¯d bought enough food to last their group of seven a few months if rationed properly.

    She doubted they¡¯d be in the Feywild that long. Well, she hoped they wouldn¡¯t, at least.

    Eme¡¯s gear was easy enough to replace. With only a little gold, the catgirl had a neat dark-leather waxed pack full of all the things an adventure might need. A fresh bedroll and blanket, mess-tin, tinderbox, torches, a couple of waterskins, and the ubiquitous 50ft of hempen rope.

    Thankfully, she hadn¡¯t lost her ID in the wash. Autumn had heard somewhere it was a pain to get reissued.

    Now, regarding buying new clothes for the party, the trio ran into a few issues. Namely, the fashion sense of the drow. It was eclectic, to say the least. Everything they found in the local clothiers consisted mainly of leather and boasted an unnecessary amount of straps or was of a sheer silk. If it was only that, Autumn might¡¯ve lived with it until she, or someone else, could tailor it, but the drow had a penchant towards providing as little coverage in their designs as they could get away with.

    Secretly, she did buy a few racier pieces for herself¡­and maybe for Nethlia and Eme.

    However, the drow¡¯s fondness for leather proved a boon when they visited the local cobblers. Her original boots were a tattered mess. Not even magic could save them. So, without hesitation, she bought two pairs of dark leather boots for both herself and the rest of the party.

    Nethlia heaved a sigh as they were added to her arms.

    While Autumn wasn¡¯t an armorsmith or tailor, she had some fun ideas rattling around in her brain. With the remaining dragonbone, she hoped to create a set of shinguards for herself and Nethlia and Eme. And, if she had enough, a pair of vambraces.

    Guiltily, she guessed Eme would only need one.

    In hindsight, she might¡¯ve spent longer collecting dragonbone if she¡¯d known Nethlia wasn¡¯t that far away. Maybe they might¡¯ve made Nelva a full set of plate out of it? No use thinking about it now, Autumn said to herself.

    Once their shopping was mostly done ¡ª and piled upon Nethlia ¡ª the trio wandered further north. As they pushed through the growing crowd towards the gate, they kept up a veneer of shopping.

    As they drew near, Autumn cast her gaze over the gatehouse.

    It was shut, tightly so.

    Heavily armed drow lingered outside the gatehouse, turning away any who sought exit from the city. None too kindly, by the looks of it.

    With a furrowed brow, the witch caught the arm of a passing local. At their annoyed look, she tipped her hat in the direction of the gatehouse.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on with the gate?¡±

    The drow woman looked over briefly. ¡°What¡¯s it to you?¡± she asked suspiciously.

    Autumn released her arm and took a gold coin from her robes. ¡°Information is a wealth unto its own.¡±

    Avarice glinted in the drow¡¯s eyes. She reached for the coin; Autumn tilted it out of the way.

    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

    ¡°Info first.¡±

    The drow woman huffed. ¡°It¡¯s the Wild Hunt; the outskirts of the city are too dangerous.¡±

    ¡°You can do better than that,¡± Autumn said with narrowed eyes. ¡°How is it dangerous?¡±

    She narrowed her eyes back, but continued anyway. ¡°The space warps and twists. Grotesque monsters spill forth from the realm¡¯s wounds. There is a war going on, almost. Happy? I¡¯m quite busy.¡±

    Autumn handed over the coin and the drow woman swiftly vanished into the crowd.

    ¡°Problem?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°Yeah. Bad news, they¡¯ve locked the gates up tight. We¡¯ve got to find a new way out. But the good news is that we are close to home. If the Coblynau¡¯s words are to be believed, the Wild Hunt and the hag¡¯s abode should be in the same place, somewhere beyond those walls.¡±

    ¡°Great. Let¡¯s head back. Not much else we can do here.¡±

    Nethlia turned away from the gate, heading back down the Street of Iron. Autumn and Eme hurriedly caught up.

    ¡°Wait,¡± Autumn called out. ¡°We should go have a look at the watergate. I¡¯ve an idea about how we can get out.¡±

    A grimace stole over Nethlia¡¯s face. ¡°That¡¯ll be in the direction of the slave market.¡±

    ¡°I know, but we need a way out. Besides, we could use them.¡±

    Eme blinked. ¡°How so?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Best not to talk about it out here,¡± Autumn whispered to her. ¡°We¡¯ll go over everything once we get back.¡±

    Eme nodded nervously, casting her eyes about the crowd. As they drew closer to the slave bazaar, more guards lined the streets. Cruel whips adorned their hips alongside heavy iron manacles.

    The slave bazaar of Naurin was a grand affair. Where in any other city lines of stalls would proclaim their wares, here were only lines upon lines of cages. Where barkers would try to sell exotic goods and spices, here they only sold flesh. Humans, Elves, Beastkin, Minotaurs, and Harpies, there were innumerable species on offer at this ghoulish market.

    Despair was heavy in the air. Like a fog to the witch¡¯s senses.

    It was not only humanoids caged and on sale either, for beast cages lined the stalls too. Some Autumn had never seen in person. A hydra roared futilely from its many caged jaws. Wyverns beat their bleeding wings against their heavy chains while massive, hunched crocodilian beasts glared. Wendigos paced and Hellhounds bayed. And within bars of iron, a myriad of Fey-beasts lay in anguish.

    In the very center of this grand, horrid bazaar, bolted to the ground like a prized trophy, sat a giant. Fifteen feet of muscle and rage, bound by scars and chains. Matted hair draped over intelligent eyes that swept over the crowds with disdain, fury, and hunger.

    Autumn cast her cold gaze over the crowd.

    To her dismay, they were mostly human. To her, they looked Greco-roman, dressed as they were in flowing togas of reds and whites, while they armed themselves with bronze weaponry. Great plumes rose from their guards¡¯ bronze Corinthian-style helms while polished muscle-cuirasses donned their bodies. However, there was far more skull iconography upon them than she was used to seeing from Earth¡¯s history.

    ¡°Those are the Southern Humans,¡± Nethlia whispered into Autumn¡¯s ear. ¡°How in the hells did they get here?¡±

    ¡°Maybe the same way we did? Just from another direction?¡±

    ¡°Nah, they brought slave-ships with them.¡± Nethlia nodded toward the harbor, where a fleet of galleys bobbed with the river¡¯s flow. ¡°They knew what they were coming for. And look at what slaves they are buying; war slaves and war beasts.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Are you saying they have a way into the Feywild?¡±

    ¡°Seems like it. Or at least just to here.¡±

    ¡°Umm, why does it matter if they are buying up a bunch of war slaves? Not that it¡¯s good or anything, but I thought they were always doing that?¡± Eme asked. ¡°That¡¯s what my Okasan always said. Oh, no offense meant, Autumn.¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s alright, they¡¯re not my people. I come from¡­far away.¡±

    ¡°It matters,¡± Nethlia growled, fists tight, ¡°because that¡¯s a war hydra, and if they bought a giant¡­and could control it? ¡­I fear the passes might fall.¡±

    Autumn stared out over the slave bazaar, taking in the frightened people being bought and sold for a handful of coins. Her icy gaze swept over towards the two bastions bordering the river and the massive length of chain strung between them. She looked at the giant and met its roaming gaze.

    A plan fell into place in her mind.

    ¡°I might have a solution, or at least, a spanner to throw in the works.¡± Autumn took in their blank looks and elaborated. ¡°Err, a spear to put in their spokes? Fuck it all. I¡¯ve a plan. Let¡¯s head back before I get nauseous; there¡¯s too much fear in the air here. I¡¯m getting a head rush.¡±

    The trio picked their way around the slave bazaar, making for the alleyways heading back towards the Darkmare Inn.

    Nethlia, last to leave, cast one last look back at the market and its bound slaves. Within the cages nearest to her, an odd collection of humans within gave the demoness looks of fright. Nethlia eyed them disdainfully, for she was the last person they had to fear. They were an odd bunch, dressed in tattered apparel of short tunics bearing strange emblems and distressed pants of a rough blue material.

    Still, she turned away, leaving them to their fate.

    Halfway back to the inn, having wandered through a twisting maze of back alleys, Nethlia stilled, halting the other girls. She heaved a sigh as she placed their shopping off to the side.

    ¡°I suppose they couldn¡¯t resist their greed in the end.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Who¡ª¡± she began to ask, only to stop as a group of four drow emerged in front of them and another four behind.

    They were slavers. Each bore with them wooden clubs, ropes, and iron chains. The male drow nervously arrayed themselves to block the exits out of the dingy alleyway, their courage buoyed by strength of numbers.

    ¡°Do you think you girls can take the back?¡±

    Autumn gulped as she glanced at the four blocking the way back. Beside her, Eme shook with uneasy energy.

    ¡°Yeah, I think we can. Will you be alright on your own?¡±

    Nethlia grinned behind her mask, rage creeping into her voice. ¡°Sure thing. Don¡¯t you worry about me. They¡¯re about to have a really bad day.¡±

    The berserker turned back to the four slavers advancing on her. Whatever they had to say was lost in her roar and the swing of iron. Blood began to flow once more into the dread-city¡¯s streets.

    Reluctantly, Autumn turned her attention back towards her own predicament. Drawing her knife and wand from her sleeves, the witch set herself ready for the four foes moving upon her. Beside her, Eme did the same, drawing her sword from its sheath with a dull rasp. Such an odd sound for such a deadly blade, Autumn mused.

    Eme was a bundle of nerves as she set her stance.

    ¡°Do you trust me?¡±

    The catgirl bard jumped at the sudden question. She turned her flickering gaze towards the witch who¡¯d asked her such.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°Do you trust me?¡±

    Eme looked deeply into Autumn¡¯s dark orbs and answered simply, ¡°yes.¡±

    The witch smiled and took the catgirl¡¯s fear.

    Eme¡¯s limbs stopped their shaking. Her breathing evened out. Solidifying her stance, the Dragonblade Bard turned her hardened gaze back to the drow swiftly approaching. She gave them a grim smile.

    ¡°Ready?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°Ready.¡±

    The pair sprung into action as the slavers arrived.

    They weren¡¯t total fools, these slavers ¡ª they didn¡¯t come at the pair of armed girls one at a time like some video game npcs. Ropes, chains, and clubs descended upon the pair in tandem. However, it didn¡¯t help them at all.

    A basic jinx splashed upon the first, freezing his limbs just as a lightning-quick blade sang towards him. Autumn ignored the splash of blood and guts that decorated the streets as the slaver fell in twain. Chasing her last spell, she cast another. The overpowered spell crashed into the next slaver with the force of a giant, sending him hurtling away. And at the same time, a violet shield rippled into being.

    The drow¡¯s eyes widened as his club bounced off.

    Autumn smiled viciously up at him.

    Another stunning jinx splashed across the chest of a slaver and there was nothing he could do to block the Dread Knife snaking towards his heart. Autumn twisted the blade. Blood splattered her face. Wrenching it free, she looked over to aid Eme as the body dropped to the bloodied stone, but she needn¡¯t have worried. In the time it took to ward off and finish her foe, the catgirl bard had killed hers.

    A wooden club proved ill-equipped to block a legendary blade.

    There was only one left.

    The slaver scrambled on the slick pavement, but stilled as a blood-wetted blade hovered over his throat.

    ¡°Please, spare me!¡± he begged.

    Autumn crouched down beside the drow, her blade and wand pointed threateningly towards him.

    ¡°Who sent you?¡±

    The slaver¡¯s eyes darted back and forth, but nary a word escaped his lips.

    ¡°Pity,¡± Autumn said with a sigh, rising from her crouch.

    The drow paled. ¡°Have mercy!¡±

    ¡°Mercy? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m all out.¡±

    Violet violence descended upon him. Harmful necrotic magic washed over the slaver¡¯s skull, boiling it away. Screams turned to gurgles. Autumn kept the bile in her throat as it took a while for the drow to die.

    Eme puked.

    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t think that¡¯d take so long,¡± Autumn apologized, herself shaking.

    Eme shook her head, wiping her mouth. ¡°It¡¯s not that¡­well, it didn¡¯t help, but I¡¯ve never¡­killed someone before.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Autumn hesitated as the battle finally crashed over her, ¡°me neither. I stabbed someone once, but Pyre lit them on fire. Does that count?¡± she awkwardly chuckled. Her hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking.

    ¡°At least they deserved it, right?¡± Eme asked her, almost desperately.

    ¡°Right,¡± Autumn nodded. ¡°Oh, fuck! Net!¡±

    Again, she needn''t have bothered. The fight had lasted barely seconds for the berserker. Bodies lay strewn across the alleyway, the last of which she was decorating the wall with his brain matter. The repeated wet thunks as she hammered him into the stonework almost sent the catgirl barfing again.

    Autumn cautiously approached the raging berserker.

    ¡°Hey, Net? You can stop now ¡ª I think he¡¯s dead.¡±

    Nethlia blinked, turning to look at her witch. Slowly, the rage drained from the demoness at the sight of them, safe and unharmed. She let the mutilated body drop from her gore-slick arm. Other than fresh bruises littering her muscular arms, she too was unharmed.

    ¡°Right. Sorry about that. You two did well?¡± She looked past them at the carnage they left. ¡°Looks like you didn¡¯t need my help. I was just about to rush over, I swear.¡±

    Autumn smiled, although it came out shallowly. ¡°I believe you. We¡¯re¡­this was our first¡­¡±

    ¡°Ah,¡± Nethlia exclaimed, a look of understanding washed over her face. ¡°Don¡¯t think too much about it right now; we need to get moving. Eme and I¡¯ll loot what we can. You contact the others, make sure they know what happened.¡±

    ¡°Right.¡±

    Digging into her mind, Autumn contacted the others.

    [Autumn here. We got ambushed by a group of slavers. Regroup at the Inn, immediately.]

    There was a pause before Autumn got back a set of worrying messages.

    [Yeah, about that¡­] [We have a situation back at the Inn.]

    Autumn sighed. When it rained, it poured.

 Chapter One Hundred and Three: Misadventures in a Gloaming Stable

    Shortly prior to the ambush.

    Nelva Blonduos, ¡®la brave.¡¯ Lepus Chevalier.

    Within the gloam of a deserted stable, a knight sat, slowly sharpening her iron blade. The dull rasp of a whetstone upon a wetted blade rang within the cramped chamber. A razor edge gleamed in the low light as the knight held it aloft. She frowned at what she saw. The whetstone sang once more against the blade¡¯s edge, smoothing out the gouges and burrs.

    Nelva glanced up.

    She was no stranger to guard work, her youth as a page having paid dividends to it. Still, it didn¡¯t make it any less boring. At least she didn¡¯t have to hear Edywn¡¯s grumbling ¡ª they were inside to overhear any rumors spoken in undercommon.

    Habitually, Nelva checked over her gear.

    Her armor was in a right state. Having one¡¯s own blade driven through it would do that to it. Nelva¡¯s stomach still twinged at the memory, even if it was mostly healed by now.

    Autumn had done her best to salvage it ¡ª the armor, as well as her stomach.

    However, the damage had been extensive; the bone cuirass was missing a large section of the lower abdomen, front and back, leaving the dismayed chevalier with a breastplate that stopped in line with her ribs. While she still had a padded doublet to cover her lower torso, the sooner she got some more armor to cover it, the better she¡¯d feel. Chainmail, at the very least.

    Nelva let her mind wander while keeping her eyes upon the entranceways.

    The journey so far had been a helluva ride.

    Never in her life did she think she¡¯d end up here in the Feywild ¡ª Feydark in this case. The danger was palpable, sparking in the air and across her tongue. From what Autumn had told her, one wayward word could spell her doom or worse. When she¡¯d come across the nymphs and their offers, she¡¯d been polite, but had declined their rather tempting offers.

    Secretly, she sometimes regretted her stalwart decision to reject the offer of unmatched armor, but her knightly vows were hard to break ¡ª the price they¡¯d offered was too costly. Even with her brush with death shaking her, she refused to break the vows she¡¯d taken so long ago. Honor, Integrity, and Justice. She¡¯d die before she traded those away.

    Saying that, she didn¡¯t know what to think about Autumn¡¯s usage of necromantic teachings. Such dark magics ought to be locked away forevermore. Perhaps when they got back to Duskfields, she could have a talk with the young witch, guide her to see reason and cast away the foul art.

    Movement caught Nelva¡¯s attention, shaking her from her thoughts.

    Creeping into the stable was a group of ne¡¯er-do-wells. Armed with wooden clubs and nets, a group of five drow males scanned the gloom. Their eyes alighted upon Nelva with recognition. Recognition that turned to greed.

    There was no guessing needed as to whom they¡¯d come for.

    With a shallow sigh, Nelva stood.

    She instantly regretted not having her new shield at hand. It was still lying within the bone sleigh behind her, the mirror face covered in cloth, and she couldn¡¯t risk turning her back to the cautiously approaching drow. She¡¯d left it there as she¡¯d not been used to the oval shape of it compared to her older ¡ª now broken ¡ª kite shield. Still, she doubted she¡¯d need it as none of the would-be slavers in front of her looked to be spellcasters.

    Confident in their numbers, the five spread out before the lone knight, blocking the exits.

    Nelva took them in. Unarmored and nervous, they looked inexperienced ¡ª rather than always keeping their eyes upon her, they¡¯d constantly look between each other for reassurance

    Towards her the drows crept.

    Reaching up, she closed her bone visor with a satisfying clunk. Her feet she set into a well-honed stance while she brought a naked blade up, resting it like a coiled viper. With a slight roll of her neck, she stretched out the stiffened muscles and waited.

    Normally, this would be the point of verbal sparring before the commencement of the physical kind. However, here she spoke not the language, nor did she expect them to speak hers.

    So she simply waited, lips pursed.

    The leader of the aspiring slavers smirked at the lone knight as he stood a few paces from her. Sweat dripped down his brow. His fist whited around a wooden club. He went to speak, likely to say something derogatory or incendiary, but the knight did not wait.

    Nelva, the honorable knight, struck like a rogue.

    She disliked the discourtesy of the act, but she¡¯d found herself in a discourteous place, facing incivil people.

    And this was no duel.

    Distracted in his moment of speaking, the viper¡¯s strike took the leader in the throat. Lightning-quick, through his windpipe and spine the iron blade speared. With eyes widening in shock, the leader gurgled. Around him the others froze likewise.

    As gravity tore the body downwards, threatening to take her blade with it, Nelva pivoted the body around. With a mighty kick powered by her thick Lepus thighs, she sent it hurtling off her blade and into another of the drow slavers. The pair went down with a thundering crash.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    The sound startled the others, shaking them from their shock.

    It was almost too late for one.

    Compared to other races, Lepus could leap great distances with a single bound, even from standing. In an instant, Nelva launched herself across the space to the next enemy in line. She grunted as her stomach twinged.

    The drow¡¯s eyes widened at the sight of an onrushing armored knight.

    Her footing fouled by the pull of her wound, Nelva slammed into the net-armed drow rather than skewering him. Still, a pained, wheezing grunt escaped the drow alongside the air from his lungs. Luck, foul or fair, saw her blade trapped within his woven net. Locked into a fierce grapple, Nelva hammered into the drow¡¯s side with her armored fists as she tried to twist from his grasp and draw her blade or dagger free.

    Beside her ear, the frantic drow screamed, ¡°Get her off me!¡± the words foreign to the knight¡¯s ears.

    In response to his cries, a hasty blow bounced off the back of Nelva¡¯s helm. The helm did its job and protected her from the weighty blow. However, as a result, it sent her armored forehead crashing into the other drow¡¯s skull. Stunned, his grip loosened and allowed her to draw her sword up to his throat. With a slash and a splash, she carved him a new smile.

    Two down, three to go.

    ¡°You bitch!¡±

    Another blow crashed into the side of Nelva¡¯s helm. She staggered to the side, slightly dazed just as a fist drove into her unprotected gut ¡ª the padded doublet absorbing only a fraction of the force. A cry of pain lodged itself in her throat.

    Nelva pushed through the pain, glaring out from a crimson-marred helm.

    The next heavy blow of a wooden club she caught on the flat of her blade. Without giving her opponent the chance to withdraw, she twisted the blade around the club, smashing their teeth in with her sword¡¯s pommel. However, before she could follow the strike with a deathblow, another of the drow tackled her to the ground, sending her sword clattering off to the side.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got her! Get the manacles!¡± the drow screamed, practically in her face as they sat on top of her.

    The other two living drow scrambled to bind her limbs.

    Annoyed, Nelva bucked her hips. Distracted by trying to pin her down, the drow didn¡¯t notice as she ripped her dagger free from her waist. With a viciousness, she repeatedly drove it into his side.

    The drow screamed.

    At that very moment, she bucked once more. The wounded drow crashed into another slaver who was coming to clamp her wrists in iron, sending them both down in a pile of dark curses and tangled limbs.

    With her sight now clear, she spotted the last drow trying to grab onto her legs. Nelva drew a leg back and lashed out with a thunderous kick fueled by her bulky Lepus thighs. The kick connected with the drow¡¯s leg and with a sickening crunch, their knee bent backwards.

    They too screamed as they dropped.

    Nelva rolled to her feet, now the only one standing.

    Panting heavily, she picked her discarded blade back up and staggered over to the entangled pair. The last uninjured drow watched on in fright as the Brave Chevalier limped ever closer.

    ¡°Wait!¡± he called out, foreign words falling on deaf ears.

    Nelva drove the blade through the back of the stabbed drow¡¯s heart, intending to skewer the one beneath in the same motion. A coup de grace. However, just as the blade ended the first drow, the one below twisted the body in a last ditch effort, wrenching the blade from Nelva¡¯s hand.

    The knight grunted as she was tackled once more.

    As she crashed to the ground, Nelva twisted her hips and, this time, she landed atop the drow. Pinning him down with her hips more effectively than the last one had tried, she rained blow after blow down on his face like meteors with her armored fists. Resistance proved futile as the drow¡¯s attempts to ward her off only saw his fingers broken.

    Down came the mighty blows.

    It took a while to beat someone to death, Nelva found. By the time the drow ceased his struggling, her fists were wrist-deep in a mess that¡¯d once been his face. Gore stuck to her gauntlet¡¯s knuckles as she pulled it free with a squelch.

    Nelva¡¯s breath came hard and heavy as she staggered to her feet. Sweat pooled down her face beneath the confines of her helm, dripping down her spine.

    One left.

    Looking over, she saw the last desperately crawling for the apparent safety of the streets. The drow looked back in horror at the sound of approaching footsteps. With fear coursing through his body, he crawled faster.

    Hands grasped his legs.

    ¡°Nooooo!!!¡± he screamed. Dragged by his legs, he left bloody lines on the stone as his fingernails tore free.

    Nelva grabbed the drow by the hair and placed her dagger across his throat while digging an armored knee into his spine.

    ¡°Who sent you,¡± she growled.

    ¡°Please spare me! I don¡¯t know anything!¡±

    The knight paused. A deep sigh escaped her throat. ¡°Right. Of course you don¡¯t speak common. I apologize for this, but we don¡¯t have the capacity to take prisoners right now.¡± With a grunt, she slashed him from ear to ear, almost severing his spine.

    Nelva let the drow fall as his lifeblood spilled onto the cold and grimy stones.

    Staggering over to her sword, she tutted at the sight of red upon it, and just after she¡¯d finished cleaning it too. After wiping it on the relatively bloodless clothing of a drow body, she made her way over to the back-door of the inn and entered.

    It was a fairly quiet day in the tavern-slash-bar-slash-inn. Most of the tables were empty, and those that were didn¡¯t seem keen to socialize. That included the gray-skinned ¡ª what was it that Autumn called them? Ah, right ¡ª duergar that was neck-deep in his cups. But Nelva knew that was an act, or at least, she hoped it was.

    With a grunt she sat beside Edwyn and stole his mug.

    ¡°Hey! What are you¡ª¡± Edwyn growled, only to stop and blink as he took in the blood dripping from her helm. ¡°What in the fook happened tae ye?¡±

    Nelva held up a finger as she flipped up her helm. In one long gulp, she downed the mug of beer before slamming it onto the table.

    ¡°It¡¯s your turn on watch.¡±

    Edwyn blinked in disbelief as Nelva snatched up another mug and a plateful of finger foods ¡ª some sort of weird mix of crab and octopus that somehow tasted like beef. Grumbling, they made their way over to the stables.

    Upon exiting the inn, Edwyn¡¯s face twisted in further disbelief at the sight of the rapidly cooling bodies.

    ¡°What in the fookin¡¯ hells happen ¡®ere!¡±

    [Autumn here. We got ambushed by a group of slavers. Regroup at the Inn, immediately.]

    Edwyn started at Autumn¡¯s voice whispering in their mind. Taking one more look around the bloodied stables, they replied.

    [We have a situation back at the Inn.]

    Autumn¡¯s sigh came back through.

    Perhaps, more beer was required? Edwyn pondered. And a wet mop ¡ª there was a lot of blood.

 Chapter One Hundred and Four: The Free Brotherhood of Nasurin

    Prior to events with Nelva.

    Liddie ¡®Kraken Eater¡¯ Eastoft, Inferni Swashbuckler.

    Liddie sighed deeply. She missed the ocean. Missed the freedom to go wherever the wind willed.

    As she strode behind her flame-haired alchemist, looking as menacing as possible, she cast her eye over her surroundings. She hated cities like this; too many people, too many walls. There were so many places ambushers could hide.

    Pyre haggled with the shopkeeps they passed by. Despite not knowing the local language, the alchemist spoke the universal language of commerce. A few flashed coins got her the attention she desired. After that, it was just pointing at what she wanted and holding up a price. Of course, the merchants tried to rip her off, but the young alchemist was no fool ¡ª she knew the value of what she was looking for, even if it was something new.

    Liddie didn¡¯t understand what Pyre was looking for, but knew to watch for those a little too interested in their business.

    Which was far too many people for her liking.

    As she stared down a group of young pickpockets, who suddenly decided that there were better marks elsewhere, the pirate pondered over the strange party she¡¯d found herself amongst. In the beginning, way back in Duskfields, she¡¯d only joined because of two reasons. One: She¡¯d been bored. And two: their leader, Nethlia, was hot. Autumn wasn¡¯t a bad looker either; if you were into that dark and brooding look.

    Her plan had been to sleep with Nethlia, and/or Autumn, steal a bunch of gold, then head back to sea after a mission or two.

    Now?

    She didn¡¯t know ¡ª they¡¯d grown on her. Somewhat.

    Liddie didn¡¯t like it. It was an awful feeling. Something she¡¯d thought she¡¯d abandoned long ago. The last person she¡¯d trusted betrayed her and tried to kill her. Their body now lay at the bottom of Brokenship Bay.

    Who would¡¯ve thought a simple goblin raid would turn out this way?

    Not her, that¡¯s for damn sure. She¡¯d have walked the other way.

    Too late for that now. The only way back home was to follow along with this madness she¡¯d found herself in. As they say, the only way out is forwards¡­or something like that.

    However, it wasn¡¯t all bad.

    Thanks to her bargain with the rather affectionate water nymphs, Liddie could now breathe underwater. It¡¯d accelerated her plans by decades. Once she was back on the mortal plane, and had gotten her fair share of the bounty, without stealing more ¡ª how embarrassing! ¡ª she¡¯d set back out to sea in search of the sunken wreck of her former ship; the Drunken Na?ve.

    Or, more accurately, the plundered gold still within its hold.

    All the gold they¡¯d gained so far paled compared to the war plunder she¡¯d taken from the southern humans in her glory days. It was a good thing then she was the only one who knew its whereabouts. It¡¯d take quite a while to make that so.

    After all, dead men tell no tales.

    Liddie snapped her attention back to her surroundings. Currently, they were making their way down a set of twisting back-alleys towards the southern slums. There they were told an elderly herbalist lived, one who might have a collection of rare herbs Pyre desired. Liddie expected it to be all horseshit; another lie to get them alone for thugs to jump them. Still, Pyre insisted.

    Some people just had to jump into the shark-infested waters if there was gold shining in the reef.

    Not that she was any different.

    As she scanned the narrow streets, Liddie got to thinking about her new crew. They were all fuckups. Herself included, obviously.

    Nethlia, for all her brawn and surprising amounts of brains, wasn¡¯t that much of a leader. Most of the party¡¯s decisions she left to their resident witch to make. Granted, Autumn was the most knowledgeable one here, but Liddie hadn¡¯t missed the way the dark-haired girl cried herself to sleep some nights. The big burly brute needed to learn how to take charge and not let Autumn put all the weight onto her own shoulders.

    The pirate grimaced ¡ª that almost sounded like she cared.

    As for the others? She didn¡¯t have much to say.

    Edwyn was old. Perhaps older than they looked. With that age came knowledge of all things metal and rune. While Liddie knew little of Manus culture, or dwarves in general, she got the sneaking suspicion that the Runelord wasn¡¯t as highborn as they portrayed themselves to be. As the lowest of the lowborn, Liddie could spot the cracks in their facade.

    Also, Edwyn should really stop messing with Autumn over being called a dwarf. While watching their human squirm is kinda funny, it is weird how she doesn¡¯t know these kinda things.

    As for their actual highborn? Nelva is a strange fit to their less than noble party.

    Liddie hadn¡¯t meant to eavesdrop on her, but knowing she was on the run from a vampire of all things was interesting. It sounded like some sort of opening to an adventuring story. She was almost tempted to stick around just to see how that played out.

    Eme and Pyre were in over their heads.

    That much was true. They shouldn¡¯t have been on this sort of mission so soon. Cleaning out the sewers and basements of rats had been more their speed. Autumn too for that matter. For all her scariness, the witch was only a baby adventurer. The scars the three bore told the tale of that. Still, she could reluctantly admit they were holding themselves well against the trial so far.

    Liddie¡¯s attention snapped back to the alleyway as she noticed movement.

    ¡°Ah shit ¡ª I knew we were being followed.¡±

    Around the pair a group of male drow appeared, spreading out to block off the alley¡¯s exits. Near a dozen, Liddie counted. She eyed their crude clubs with disdain.

    Some sort of local gang? she wondered.

    At the head of the group stood the largest of them, styling themselves as some sort of leader. In a crude dialect, they spoke in broken common.

    ¡°You come with us now!¡±

    Pyre looked around nervously, yet Liddie was unconcerned by their numbers. She snorted.

    ¡°And why, pray tell, would we do that?¡±

    The drow furrowed his brow, a look of confusion flashing across his face. Angrily, he barked again. ¡°You come with us now! Leader see you!¡±

    Liddie chuckled. ¡°Not the brightest candle, is he?¡± she whispered to Pyre.

    ¡°What do we do? There are too many of them,¡± Pyre whispered back.

    Liddie waved her hand dismissively.

    ¡°Nah, I can take them. I¡¯m more interested in what this is all about. Stick beside me, and if anything goes wrong, throw some fire about would you?¡±

    Pyre nodded. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we tell Autumn what¡¯s going on?¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not interrupt her date just yet. We can always let them know in an instant if things get wild,¡± Liddie grinned. ¡°Besides, we can handle ourselves.¡±

    Annoyed by their delay, the drow barked again. ¡°Time no wasting! See Leader!¡±

    Liddie rolled her eyes. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t get your drow panties in a bunch. Lead on, whoever you are.¡±

    ¡°Give weapons!¡±

    ¡°Yeah no,¡± Liddie laughed in his face. ¡°Look here piss-for-brains. Either you take us to your leader or move aside. I¡¯ll not weep over your dead bodies.¡±

    The surrounding drow tensed as a look of fury washed over their current leader¡¯s face. A war of emotions rolled beneath the surface. Snarling, he gestured to the dozen armed drow. ¡°We more number than you!¡±

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    Liddie arched an eyebrow. ¡°So? Try it and find out.¡±

    A tense standoff ensued between the two groups made all the more troubled by a lack of understanding. The pirate didn¡¯t back down, her hand rested calmly upon the hilt of her cutlass.

    Gritting their teeth, it was the drow leader who relented first. Turning around, they stormed deeper into the slums.

    ¡°Come!¡± they growled. ¡°Meet leader!¡±

    A wicked, mocking grin crept across Liddie¡¯s face.

    As the pair started following the angry drow, themselves followed by the dozen drow gang members, Liddie felt the cool glass of a potion vial slip into her palm. Surreptitiously, she looked down. The pirate recognized the dull gray potion Pyre had slipped her as a rock-skin potion. Quietly, she tucked it away in easy reach.

    The deeper they went into the slums, the worse the conditions got. Here, the perpetual crimson hue between the cobblestones was darker, deeper, as though they¡¯d set the stones into blood.

    Through twisting alleys and broken courtyards they traveled, watched all the while by distrustful eyes. Windows and doors closed with a snap as they passed by.

    It felt like home.

    Liddie memorized the route as they went.

    The drow led the pair into a dilapidated courtyard before an old, broken-down tavern. More members of the drow gang loitered around the edges, trying, and failing, to look menacing. Following the lead of the angry drow, they entered.

    Quietly, both Liddie and Pyre downed their protective potions.

    Inside, what had once been a cramped, dimly lit tavern was now a cramped, dimly lit hideout. Worn tables and benches lay cluttered around a grimy bar burdened by substandard ales, while broken and discarded weapons lined the bartop like a pathetic armory. Around the walls hung crude banners and flags depicted the symbol of whatever gang this was. Taking up a significant portion of the already scant space sat a second-hand, maybe even third-hand, desk that¡¯d been not-so-cleverly fashioned to look like a crime-lord¡¯s desk.

    And behind it, reclining in a frayed armchair, sat a winsome drow, long of hair and sharp of complexion.

    He eyed the pair coolly as they entered, although his eyebrow twitched at seeing them still armed.

    ¡°I hope my men weren¡¯t too ¡ª what¡¯s the word, ah yes ¡ª discourteous in their invitation? They can get a little¡­unduly motivated in their duties.¡± A slimy smile crested the drow¡¯s face. One which didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°I am Chaszomph Freneld, and it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Free Brotherhood of Nasurin.¡±

    Liddie¡¯s eyebrow twitched.

    If this was a recruitment pitch, she was blaming it on the robes. She was a demoness, hells damn it! She had curves! Small ones, but she had them!

    ¡°Oh look, you can actually speak. Cut to the chase then. What do you want?¡±

    The drow gang-leader¡¯s smile widened. ¡°It¡¯s rather simple; you work for me now.¡±

    Liddie chuckled darkly. ¡°Oh? How do you figure that?¡±

    Reclining back in his armchair, the wannabe crime lord posed with a hand on his chin. A playful smile now quirked his lips. ¡°Right now, my men are already rounding up the rest of your compatriots. Soon I¡¯ll have you all reunited, then you¡¯ll do what I say when I say it, or else there¡¯ll be consequences.¡±

    Pyre tensed up, but Liddie just gestured for her to calm down. Unamused, the pirate locked eyes with the smirking drow through her mask.

    ¡°Or what?¡±

    The smile froze on Chaszomph¡¯s face. Confused, he blinked. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    Liddie looked at him as one might a child. ¡°What are these so-called consequences of yours?¡± she drawled.

    Chaszomph looked around the room full of thugs in confusion. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you?¡± he said-slash-asked.

    ¡°Can you? We are necromancers, you know. It¡¯s kinda our thing not to stay dead. And besides, if you kill us, how can we work for you? Last I checked, we were the necromancers, not you.¡±

    Chaszomph flushed. His eyes narrowed at her.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you care about your compatriots? One word from me and they¡¯ll be dead or sold off as war slaves or whores.¡±

    Liddie shrugged. ¡°Again, necromancers. Also, they can take care of themselves. What is this all about, anyway? Free Brotherhood? What, did your mama not love you enough? You wanna overthrow the matriarchs or something?¡± she drawled with a smirk. ¡°Tell me if I¡¯m close.¡±

    Indignation colored the drow¡¯s features. The armchair screeched back as he stormed to his feet. Snarling, he spoke.

    ¡°You know nothing of how the matriarchs treat us! How they hold our collars! We seek to overthrow them, yes, but for our freedom! So that no longer are we the ones that¡¯ll lick the other¡¯s boots for a scrap of respect they¡¯ll never give!¡±

    Her race understood freedom more than any, but disdain was all Liddie felt as she looked at the drow.

    ¡°So that you¡¯ll never be the ones that¡¯ll lick the other¡¯s boots? Implying they will? You¡¯re no better than they are.¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± the drow roared. The other drow around the room shuffled aggressively at the sound. Chaszomph sneered at her. ¡°Once my men return with your friends, we¡¯ll have all the money we need to finally arm ourselves for revolution. I need no understanding from necromancer ilk!¡±

    Liddie was hardly listening as a message blipped into her mind.

    [Autumn here. We got ambushed by a group of slavers. Regroup at the Inn, immediately.]

    [Yeah, about that¡­] Liddie replied. Hearing Autumn sigh, she continued. [Me and Pyre are currently in the den of thieves, as it were. A Brotherhood of Wanking-Each-Other-Off or something. They¡¯re the ones who sent some goons after you.]

    [Where are you? Do you need aid?]

    Liddie dug a finger into her ear ¡ª it was a weird sensation to have your brain whisper to you without your ears¡¯ consent.

    [Nah, me and Pyre can handle it. Are you guys good? Nelva and Edwyn?]

    [We took care of our lot and apparently Nelva dealt with hers. Are you sure you don¡¯t need help?]

    [Positive. How do you end this thing? Cease! Stop! Think about naked butts!]

    Autumn¡¯s sigh came back over the line.

    Turning her attention back to the drow, Liddie interrupted their rant.

    ¡°So, it was all about money, huh?¡±

    Chaszomph paused as he realized he¡¯d spilled more than he meant to. He went to speak, but Liddie cut him off.

    ¡°No matter. I don¡¯t really care. How about this? I¡¯ve a counter offer for you: you give us everything of wealth you own, and I¡¯ll let you live.¡±

    In the face of her generous offer, the drow purpled ¡ª well, purpled further. A bark of harsh laughter escaped Chaszomph. But there was no laughter in his eyes. He glared at Liddie.

    ¡°How humorous. You¡¯ve caught me in a rare good mood, so I¡¯ll give you one last chance to bow down, or else your friends will die.¡±

    Quick like lightning, Liddie unsheathed her cutlass and decapitated a pair of drow that¡¯d been standing behind her. As the bodies dropped to the floor, she turned back to the stunned wannabe crime lord.

    ¡°Nah, I think I¡¯ll pass ¡ª they¡¯ve already killed your goons.¡±

    Chaszomph paled. ¡°Kill them!!¡± he screamed.

    His scream turned to one of pain as a flash-bomb detonated. Bright light spilled out through the gaps and cracks as it seared any unshielded retinas.

    Liddie pulled her robe collar away from her eyes and set upon the disorientated drow like a shark amongst chum. Her white-gold blade sliced and diced with ease as more potions splashed around the room. More screams of pain erupted as fire engulfed the room. The pirate flinched back as a fireball overwhelmed a group rushing in from the outside.

    ¡°Hey! Watch where you¡¯re throwing those things!¡±

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Pyre apologized. ¡°This recipe is new! It¡¯s stronger than I thought it¡¯d be,¡± she said gleefully.

    Liddie shook her head ruefully.

    A noise from behind the bar caught her attention. Turning towards the noise, her eyes widened as a group of crossbow wielding drow unleashed a volley upon the pair, seemingly uncaring for their allies in the way. Bolts scythed through drow bodies as they made their way towards Liddie and Pyre.

    A dozen bolts slammed into Liddie¡¯s chest¡­

    ¡­and plinked off her stone-like skin.

    Laughing maniacally, Liddie dashed for the bar and leapt over it, her mithril blade flashing. Screams soon joined her laughter. But only briefly.

    Fresh blood splattered across the bartop, soaking into the wood. It coated the cheap ales in a film of crimson iron.

    Popping back up with a rag and glass in hand, Liddie called out to Pyre in a bored drawl. ¡°Welcome to Liddie¡¯s Lusty Saloon. What can I get you, miss?¡±

    ¡°Stop messing about!¡± Pyre screamed back. All around her, potions popped and exploded, turning the dilapidated tavern into a slaughterhouse. With wild eyes, the alchemist scanned the burning tavern. ¡°Where did that drow boss go?!¡±

    Curious, Liddie looked about.

    ¡°Oh, there he is, crawling away!¡± she laughed.

    The once oh-so-proud wannabe crime boss was crawling away on his hands and knees towards the exit as his tavern exploded all around him. Picking up a crossbow, Liddie loaded it and took aim. With a smooth pull, she launched the bolt across the room. She watched as it slammed into the drow¡¯s back, sending them slumping down with a gasp.

    ¡°Drat!¡± Liddie cursed. ¡°I was aiming for his leg! These crossbows are so shitty! They¡¯d never revolt with these! They need some sort of scheme to make some money¡­oh~ Right!¡±

    ¡°Stop messing about!¡±

    ¡°Yes sir, Pyre sir!¡± Liddie laughed.

    By now, the fires Pyre had started were filling the cramped interior with smoke. Coughing and sputtering, the few remaining drow could put up little resistance against Liddie¡¯s superior skills. Annoyingly, the pirate found her new gills stinging as the smoke curled about them. Pyre, on the other hand, was unaffected by the flames or smoke.

    After looting what they could, the pair stumbled out into the relatively fresh air.

    Another crossbow bolt bounced off Liddie¡¯s chest. She looked angrily at the source and saw a quivering drow boy.

    ¡°Scram!¡± she barked.

    The drow boy yelped and fled.

    ¡°Well, wasn¡¯t that an adventure and a half?¡± Liddie grinned as the tavern burned behind her. ¡°Did you have as much fun as I did?¡±

    Pyre glared. ¡°That,¡± she gestured back at the burning building, ¡°wasn¡¯t fun at all! I¡¯m down a lot of potions! AND we didn¡¯t even find the herbalist we were looking for!¡±

    An amused smirk lit up Liddie¡¯s face at Pyre¡¯s rant. She pointed ahead of them at a building opposite them, the porch and window festooned with dried herbs. Sitting in a rocking chair was a crotchety and extremely elderly drow woman, glaring at them as if they¡¯d just made a bit of a ruckus rather than slaughter half the district and set a building on fire.

    Pyre¡¯s cheeks turned a brighter shade.

    ¡°Not a word,¡± she growled as she marched over to the scowling drow.

    ¡°Sure thing, little Firestarter.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare!¡±

    Behind the bickering pair, the weakened building collapsed in on itself, sending the inferno roaring into the air.

 Chapter One Hundred and Five: The Calm Before

    Within the dark of an inn¡¯s room, lit only by the flicker of dying candles, a pair of girls sat upon a magically cleaned bed. Autumn¡¯s slim fingers gently grasped a blood-flecked chin. With utmost gentleness, she carefully wiped Eme¡¯s face free of crimson. The wet cloth in her hand gathered up the dewdrops of red till the white was naught but stained completely. She wrung it out into the darkness before taking the catgirl¡¯s hands in her own. Slowly, methodically, she cleansed them of filth.

    ¡°There,¡± she whispered. ¡°All better now.

    Eme didn¡¯t respond to the witch¡¯s sweet whispers. Her eyes remained downcast, staring at the warped floorboards cladding their room. Crimson footprints marred the surface.

    The dark-haired witch took in her lonesome bard¡¯s drooping ears and quivering eyes. Pressing her own cool forehead against Eme¡¯s wet one, she quietly breathed in the catgirl¡¯s scent and blocked her sight. And as she rubbed her head back and forth, she whispered, ¡°it¡¯s not your fault.¡±

    Eme quivered.

    ¡°You did what you had to do. I know it wasn¡¯t something you wanted to do, and you feel lost, but we have to keep moving, ok? Can you do that for me, Eme? Can you keep moving?¡±

    Against her forehead, Autumn felt a nod.

    A rain of silent tears cascaded down Eme¡¯s cheeks; crystal-clear beads that shone sadly beautiful in the dim candlelight. A hiccup escaped the poor girl. She pressed herself into Autumn¡¯s shoulder, wetting the witch¡¯s robes with her tears and snot.

    Autumn didn¡¯t mind. She simply held the weeping girl and lovingly caressed her head, rubbing the soft fur behind her ears to comfort her.

    Before too long, Eme¡¯s tears subsided. As she brushed the remaining salt from her reddened eyes, she distanced herself from Autumn¡¯s embrace. Sitting back on the bed, she whispered a quiet, ¡°thank you.¡±

    Autumn gave her a sad smile, her own emotions in flux.

    While she¡¯d fought humanoid foes before, this marked the first time she¡¯d killed one she didn¡¯t see as a monster. They were slavers, sure, but they were people too. The only other time she¡¯d come close was in Everwatch, but it¡¯d been Pyre who dealt the final blow, even if Autumn had mortally wounded him.

    Startlingly, Autumn found she didn¡¯t care. She felt nothing regarding taking a life. No more so than if she¡¯d cut down a goblin or beast. Her lack of empathy towards the drow stood in stark contrast with the distraught catgirl beside her.

    Had she broken herself somehow? Autumn thought. Or was she always a monster?

    Shaking off those dire thoughts, she turned to the rest of her team.

    Around the room, the others sat, wrapped in a cloak of silence and paranoia. The air smelled of smoke and iron. Runes glowed brightly around the edges of the room, placed by Edwyn to choke off any noise from escaping. None dared speak above a whisper, even so. They all listened in that dreadful quiet for any sounds of pursuit or creeping in the hallways. Liddie leant against the shuttered window, peeking out through the gaps onto the main street below.

    No one seemed to be after them for now.

    Nethlia glanced around the room, taking in the quiet and blood-marred individuals huddled within. Confident that they were safe for the time being, she cleared her throat, garnering everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say I wasn¡¯t expecting this to happen. Although, I¡¯d sort of hoped we¡¯d get some more time to ourselves before it happened,¡± she chuckled humorlessly. Turning to Liddie she asked, ¡°so, they were all part of this brotherhood gang?¡±

    Liddie nodded without taking her eyes off the street below. ¡°Yeah, the ¡®Free Brotherhood¡¯ or some other stupid name. They didn¡¯t seem all that smart to me. Likely, they were just some pawn of a matriarch or someone similar. Which is a problem, as I doubt they¡¯d be best pleased that their pawn just went up in flames,¡± she said, gingerly wiping the soot from her new gills. She grimaced as they stung.

    Off to the side, Pyre blushed. ¡°I said I¡¯m sorry,¡± she muttered.

    Autumn spared a glance toward the flame-headed alchemist. Under the witch¡¯s knowing eyes, Pyre could not hide the faint trembling in her hands nor the quick glances she sent towards the harsh noises streaming in from the outside. And while Autumn did not know entirely what violence she and Liddie had perpetrated, she could guess.

    The conflagration of a burning viking flashed before Autumn¡¯s eyes.

    Autumn looked away.

    ¡°Right,¡± Nethlia chuckled. The sound of it soothed the tense atmosphere. ¡°So we¡¯re out of time? Figures. Best we make tracks. Autumn, you said you had a plan before?¡±

    Autumn jolted at the sudden address. ¡°Plan?¡±

    ¡°You said you had a plan to get us out of here?¡± Nethlia asked, cocking an eyebrow.

    ¡°Oh, right! I did. I mean, I do. It¡¯s not a splendid plan, just the basics of one, really,¡± Autumn rambled. Her breath came in quick and fast.

    ¡°Slow down. Breathe, Autumn.¡± Nethlia stroked Autumn¡¯s back. ¡°Any plan would be good right now. There¡¯s no need to panic.¡±

    The sound of Nethlia''s voice and her soothing touch calmed Autumn¡¯s panic. Breathing deep, she took all that fright and fear and stuffed it deep amongst the dread filling her hat to bursting.

    Now calm, she spoke.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± she smiled towards Nethlia.

    Turning back towards the group, she outlined her bare-bones plan.

    ¡°Ok, so, when we went north, we saw that they¡¯d shut the northern gates. While asking around, I found out that this is because the Wild Hunt is just beyond the walls, fighting with, most likely, the hag. Now, while this means we are close to our destination, it also means we¡¯ll need to find another exit. Luckily, there is a less guarded one we can use: the river gate.¡±

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    ¡°Currently, there is a massive fuck-off chain barring the way. If we want to get out that way, and we do, we¡¯ll need to cut it down or destroy the mechanism holding it up. What I¡¯m proposing is this: two of us will sneak into the two towers ¡ª I¡¯m thinking of Liddie for the far side and myself for the closer ¡ª and lower the chain. At the same time, the rest of you will get the sleigh into the water and head for the exit. Once we are through, the pair of us will regroup further downstream. Thoughts?¡±

    ¡°Are you sure you can take on the tower yourself?¡± Nethlia asked worryingly. ¡°It¡¯ll be well guarded.¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°I know it¡¯ll be, but I can use the black water to sneak in. Can anybody else other than us sneak in and out undetected?¡±

    The prevailing silence answered her.

    A smokey cough broke the stagnant silence. Liddie took her eyes off the street to address Autumn.

    ¡°So, we deal with the towers, fine, but how are they meant to get into the water? There are few ways into the river, and the guards patrol all the paths that do. Guards that¡¯ll be looking for us.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn sighed, ¡°I thought of that too. We¡¯ll have to enter through the harbor.¡±

    Eme started. ¡°But that¡¯s¡­¡± she trailed off.

    Sensing her unasked question, Autumn nodded. ¡°Beside the slave bazaar, I know.¡±

    At her words, the atmosphere of the room grew heavier, falling over the group like a weighted blanket. Knuckles tensed white as eyes grew taut. Restless legs tapped a steady, nervous rhythm out on the stained floorboards.

    ¡°That¡¯s the second part of my plan¡­well, first really.¡±

    Eyes that¡¯d locked onto the ground in anger and frustration rose to meet hers. Autumn swallowed.

    ¡°We start a riot. Or well¡­¡±

    In the somber gloom of a dark-lit room, dark orbs met with burning eyes of orange. With a gleaming grin, she met the berserker¡¯s hope within, who sought retribution for mortal sin. Bloodthirsty was her gaze, as rage ran ablaze. And in the silence of a witch¡¯s words unsaid, Nethlia¡¯s words, if heard, would provoke dread, as they spoke of bloodshed.

    ¡°¡­a slave revolt,¡± she said.

    <hr>

    Blood gleamed wetly upon the cobblestones.

    Hidden away in the dimly lit stable, the sticky crimson had pooled beneath the fallen drow who¡¯d foolishly sought the armored knight. And as the party dragged the looted bodies away towards an isolated stall, they left behind long streaks of red in their wake.

    Unceremoniously, the party piled the dead into the lone stable and hid them beneath a blanket of moldy hay and rotten cloth. And onto the liquid signs of violence, they poured a heavy shroud of sawdust, concealing the scene from an initial perusal.

    Shadows pooled around Autumn¡¯s feet as she weaved her magic of fright and fancy back into the bleached bones of her skeletal horses. In darkness, she cloaked them ¡ª even grimmer than before.

    Her wand roared its dissatisfaction in her hand, but Autumn was having none of it. She exerted her will upon the stubborn wand, forcing it to bend to her dominance. With a strange contentedness flowing off of it, it bowed to its wilful wielder.

    With her slightly necromantic task complete, Autumn cast her gaze back across the stable to where Nethlia and Eme lurked. The pair were holding a quiet conversation. Whatever Nethlia was saying to the somber catgirl seemed to cheer her up somewhat, drawing a faint smile to her lips.

    Autumn turned back to the dragonbone sleigh, her own smile tugging on her lips. She felt reassured that Nethlia was there for their bard.

    Wandering over, Nelva stopped beside Autumn and dumped her pack into the sleigh before tying it down with a length of hempen rope. As she did so, the cloth covering her mirror shield slipped, revealing its shattered surface. The fragmented reflections of dark-eyed and world-weary witches stared back at Autumn as she glanced within.

    Nelva covered the surface back up.

    ¡°How are you doing?¡±

    Autumn jumped slightly at the sudden question. She turned her gaze towards Nelva, awkwardly meeting her eyes.

    ¡°Um, good? I¡¯m good. Just slightly nervous about what¡¯s coming, I guess.¡±

    Nelva held Autumn¡¯s gaze with a seriousness. ¡°I wasn¡¯t talking about that. How are you doing after killing someone?¡±

    Autumn flinched. She turned her gaze away from Nelva as her ears burned with a choking shame. Idly, she picked at the fraying threads of the rope that bound their gear. Beside her, Nelva stood calmly, waiting for her to speak.

    Wetting her lips, Autumn reluctantly spoke. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no shame in crying,¡± Nelva said, nodding towards Eme. ¡°You don¡¯t see her any less for it, do you?¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°It¡¯s not that. It¡¯s just that¡­I didn¡¯t.¡± She clenched her teeth in frustration. ¡°I felt nothing¡­it was just like killing monsters.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s normal.¡±

    At Nelva¡¯s words, Autumn whipped her head towards the chevalier. Shock colored her features. She asked in disbelief, ¡°it is?¡±

    Nelva met her look calmly.

    ¡°Sure it is. You¡¯re still in the moment ¡ª it hasn¡¯t sunk in for you yet. Once you have nothing more to focus on, when you have a moment to breathe, then it¡¯ll hit you. I¡¯m a bit like you in this case; the first time I killed a bandit, I felt nothing until much later. I thought I was just a callous individual until I could stop my hands from shaking when I went to sleep.¡±

    ¡°So, I¡¯m not strange?¡± Autumn asked hopefully.

    Nelva laughed. ¡°Sorry mon ami, but you are certainly an outlandish individual, in both dress and temperament. But, in this, you aren¡¯t so different.¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t have to put it that way,¡± Autumn huffed.

    ¡°Sometimes the truth is harsh.¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes at Nelva¡¯s gentle teasing. Together, they packed the rest of the party¡¯s gear into the sleigh, lashing it down tight. As they were doing so, Pyre approached them with a pair of potions in hand.

    ¡°Here, these are for the both of you; a healing potion along with a rock-skin. Hopefully, you won¡¯t need it, but just in case.¡±

    With a thankful smile, Autumn slipped hers into her belt.

    ¡°Did you get those herbs and ingredients you were after?¡±

    Pyre nodded. ¡°Yeah, thankfully I did. That reminds me; can I use your black cauldron later, along with the stuff you took from the necromancer¡¯s tower? I want to make a few new potions and refill my supplies before we get to the hag¡¯s abode.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure!¡± Autumn chirped. ¡°Once we¡¯re out of the city, just tell me. We should be able to stop along the way, or we could try to make room on the sleigh.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that,¡± Pyre grimaced. ¡°You really don¡¯t want to make potions on an unstable surface. Especially the explosive ones.¡±

    Autumn blanched. ¡°R-right. Fair point.¡±

    ¡°We all ready to go?¡± Nethlia called out, drawing everyone¡¯s attention.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn replied. ¡°Just need to lash bleak-bones one and two here up.¡± She pointed to the pair of skeletal horses. ¡°Then we¡¯re all set to go!¡±

    Nethlia chuckled at her names for the grim horses. In moments, they were ready, pulling the sleigh towards the exit to the dark stable. And as they stopped just before that yawning exit, Nethlia turned towards the rest of the party, her iron pole-hammer resting upon her shoulder. Her fanged grin shone in the dark.

    ¡°I hope this city is ready for us, cause we ain¡¯t stopping for anyone. For too long, they¡¯ve held chains and whips. It¡¯s time for them to feel the bite of repressed. Now, let¡¯s see what they have in store for us, shall we?¡±

    And onto the gloaming streets they strode ¡ª blood and fury soon following.

 Chapter One Hundred and Six: A Grim Net Closing In

    In the twilight shadow of the glimmering corpse-mountain, dark commerce bustled. It flowed like murky water through the streets of sorrow and iron, parting around the spiked spires and sinister guards. Merchants bought and sold their illicit wares unconcerned by the lazy smoke drifting in from the southern slums.

    Beacon bright, the flames roared, hastily contained by foul drow magics.

    Out in force were the sinister guards, called forth by their august matrons to find and capture the illusive arsonists. Armored feet stormed down the dark alleyways. They thundered into locked homes, breaking down the doors in their furious search. While giant fell-bat¡¯s swooped down from high above to join in the relentless canvas, driven by the painful coaxing of their portentous riders.

    Their echoing screeches bounced off columns and spires.

    Deep in the grim city, a lone guard halted by a gloomy alleyway, drawn by a sudden sound that came from within. He turned his gaze into the darkness as his fellows rushed blindly by. After casting a brief look to the lighter path, he took his jagged spear in hand and cautiously ventured down the dimmer way.

    His footsteps resounded hauntingly loud in the silence of the somber alleyway, sending a shiver of dread steepling up the drow guard¡¯s spine. As he wandered further into the gloom in search of the curious sound he¡¯d heard, he found himself lost from the bright sight of the main street behind.

    It wore on his mind, the dark did. Unnatural even for here. The shadows crept and moved at the edges of his vision.

    Frightened by his isolation, the guard turned to leave the desolate alleyway, unconcerned with whatever he¡¯d heard. However, as he did, a black robe met his eyes a mere inch from his face. The dark material struggled to hold back a well-endowed chest and a strong, muscular physique.

    As he lifted his gaze, his breath caught as a pair of glowing orange eyes glared down at him from a shaded hood pierced by a set of powerful, thick horns.

    ¡°Hey there,¡± the horned behemoth spoke.

    The guard went to shout, but a heavy palm grabbed him by the face. And with unbelievable strength, the horned figure smashed his skull against the wall beside them.

    Blood and brains splattered across the grimy wall.

    Nethlia let the body drop and wiped her hands clean upon her black necromancer robes with a grimace. She turned back towards the creeping black shadow of an alleyway.

    ¡°All clear,¡± she said calmly.

    And from the black peeled off six more shadows.

    Autumn peered beyond the brim of her hat up at the massive fell-bats swooping through the swirling air of the city. ¡°We really pissed them off, didn¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°It was likely the fire that did it,¡± Liddie quietly chuckled.

    Pyre blushed, turning a darker shade of iliac ash. ¡°I said I¡¯m sorry!¡± she hissed.

    ¡°Quiet now,¡± Nethlia cautioned them. ¡°We can¡¯t stay here long ¡ª who knows when they¡¯ll notice this guard is missing.¡± She lightly kicked the dead drow. ¡°Everybody stick close. The slave market is just across the street.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s pretty open,¡± Nelva noted worryingly.

    ¡°We can¡¯t help that. Just keep your head down and move fast.¡±

    On the berserker¡¯s mark, the party ducked out into the street one by one, with their less distinguishable members going first. Under Liddie¡¯s careful guidance, and the cover of their hooded robes, they safely made it to the other side, having wound and weaved through the dense crowd, all the while avoiding the sharp eyes of the patrolling drow guardsmen.

    Autumn and Nethlia went last. Seeing their teammates make it to the other side, they let out a breath of relief. It was now their turn. Tugging the cloth-covered horses along, both mentally and physically, Autumn stepped out into the street.

    Immediately, the packed crowd swallowed her up. It was like fighting against a river, but one that flowed in multiple directions.

    Autumn felt so exposed ¡ª it¡¯d only take one prying glance from above and they¡¯d be uncovered.

    Still, she pressed on, buoyed by Nethlia¡¯s presence at her back. Through the crowd they pressed, carving a path through the river rather than with it. However, as they passed the halfway point, a shrill screech filled the air. As Autumn looked upwards in fright, she saw a great number of fell-bats flocking towards their position. Around her, the crowd panicked and began to scatter.

    ¡°I think they made us,¡± Nethlia grimly spoke in Autumn¡¯s ear.

    Autumn paled.

    The fell-bats that descended upon them were massive, easily as large or larger than a fully grown war-horse. Upon leathery wings, they beat the air, diving towards the crowded street. Grim riders leveled their repeating-crossbows towards the pair and fired without care into the dense crowd.

    Cries of pain resounded as the bolts rained down.

    Autumn turned her wand skyward and unleashed a cascade of violet magic. The riders¡¯ eyes widened in shock and they swiftly sought to evade the heavenward rain. However, some were not quick enough. Frozen in fright, the riders could only scream as their mounts crashed into the sharp towers and spires.

    The awful crunching sounds caused Autumn to flinch.

    ¡°Come on! Let¡¯s go!¡± Nethlia shouted as she threw Autumn aboard the sleigh before leaping up behind her.

    Having spotted them amongst the thinning crowd, the guards now thundered towards them, their armored boots echoing on the stained cobblestones. Sharp crossbows shot barbed bolts tipped with glimmering poison towards the pair.

    ¡°Hyah!!!¡± Autumn shouted as she lashed the reins instinctively. Rearing up, the shadowy horses unleashed a great spectral whinny before bolting forwards into the crowd.

    Shocked, Autumn almost tumbled out of her seat, but was steadied by Nethlia¡¯s firm hand.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know they could do that!¡± Nethlia shouted over the dismayed cries of the crowd parting hurriedly before them.

    ¡°Me neither!¡±

    With the guards hot on their heels, the now mounted pair thundered across the street, roughly scattering the few pedestrians yet to flee. Reaching the other side in a matter of seconds, they disappeared into the alleyway their friends had vanished into earlier. And as they crossed the threshold, a hastily inscribed rune flashed beneath them, arming itself.

    Stopping only for the rest of their party to scramble aboard, Autumn drove them deeper into the twisting maze of back alleys and side streets of the district of coin. Behind them, the rune detonated in a raucous boom. For a brief moment, the dark city was lit like daylight.

    Deep in the coin district¡¯s heart, Autumn guided the shadowy horses into a tight alleyway, finding shelter beneath mottled awnings and sharp balconies. She peeked out from under the cloth, scanning the air for signs of aerial pursuit. Upon seeing none, the witch breathed a sigh of relief.

    Down from the sleigh, the party leapt.

    Nethlia eyed the alleyway with distrust.

    ¡°Secure the area. I don¡¯t want anybody creeping up on us. Liddie, I want you to scout ahead and make sure that our route is clear.¡±

    Liddie saluted. ¡°Roger that, boss!¡± Then, without another word, she dashed off down the alleyway to disappear into the dark. Nethlia shook her head amusedly.

    After she¡¯d stretched her legs, Autumn turned her dark, quizzical gaze upon the shadow-clad bones she¡¯d formed into horses. Standing stock-still, they pretended to be inanimate. Autumn glared harder. If shadows could sweat¡­

    Autumn poked the horse closest to her roughly, displacing some of its shadowy form. An aggrieved whinny escaped the conjured beast.

    ¡°Huh, how about that. You¡¯re not undead, are you?¡± Autumn asked, idly tapping her wand against her palm.

    Hurriedly, the horses shook their heads.

    Autumn hummed distrustfully at them. Beside her, Nethlia stopped, eyeing the pair of horses with a curious look.

    ¡°So, they can think, huh? You can still control them, right? Or do I need to smash them?¡±

    The pair of shadowy horses turned pleading eyes Autumn¡¯s way, begging her to protect them. The witch chuckled despite herself.

    ¡°I can and not right now ¡ª we still need them. But, if they get out of hand¡­¡± she trailed off meaningfully.

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    With their stay of execution granted, at least for now, the horses calmed. Still, they placed themselves at attention, waiting for Autumn¡¯s commands.

    ¡°They¡¯re kinda cute, in that horrific, gothic sort of way.¡±

    The horses preened.

    Nethlia eyed her skeptically. ¡°I¡¯ll take your word for it.¡±

    Before they could speak any further, Liddie returned. Waving them onward, the smirking pirate carefully guided them through the winding back alleys and side streets she¡¯d scouted towards the center of the district.

    There lay the slave bazaar and all its terrible glory.

    Autumn stopped just before she entered the bazaar proper and peered out from the dark alleyway. The market was as grim as she remembered. Cries of pain and torment split the air, coiling it with a fog of terror the witch tapped into like a lake of power.

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll split up here,¡± Nethlia whispered. ¡°Liddie, Autumn, you two head on out while we move around towards the riverside. Free who you can, but try to keep a low profile. Autumn, can you do something about that giant? Speak to them or something?¡±

    Autumn hesitated. ¡°I can try, but whether they listen to me¡­¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll have to be enough. Try, but stay safe, would you?¡± Nethlia said to her before turning to the others while grasping the shadowy horses¡¯ reins. ¡°Alright people, let¡¯s move on out.¡±

    Edwyn tossed a bone rune Autumn¡¯s way. ¡°Here,¡± they said, ¡°this should break the enchantments on the giant¡¯s chains ¡ª they¡¯ll be able tae handle the rest.¡±

    ¡°Thank you,¡± Autumn smiled. Turning, she pulled her hat low and her collar high as she slipped unnoticed for now into the grim market with Liddie at her back.

    As she left, so too did the others. Taking the horses and wagon, they skirted around the edges on their way towards the harbor. Nethlia held her pole-hammer tight, awaiting the violence to come. They¡¯d agreed on a signal prior ¡ª the simple outbreak of violence or discovery of either side.

    Tension ran like lightning through the air.

    While the cruel merchants and slavers still bought and sold their chained merchandise within the tense atmosphere, they did so with more caution and sharper eyes. Slaves huddled in their cages and foreign guards tensed as a vast quantity of guards streamed into the bazaar, encircling it like a net. At their head came a familiar face to Autumn, that of the drow captain she¡¯d bribed ¡ª Captain Iymidril, she recalled was her name.

    The pair¡¯s eyes met over the milling crowd distance.

    Captain Iymidril smiled darkly.

    ¡°Shit,¡± Autumn swore as the drow woman gestured imperiously towards them.

    At the captain¡¯s gesture, the guards started roughly pushing their way through the crowd towards Autumn. The drow captain languidly followed, her eyes never leaving Autumn¡¯s form.

    ¡°So much for stealth,¡± Liddie muttered beside her. ¡°You head towards the giant while I get some of these war-slaves freed.¡±

    ¡°Alright,¡± Autumn replied, but Liddie was already gone.

    Huffing in annoyance, Autumn picked up her pace, racing against both time and the heavy tread of boots. Shouts of outrage and alarm tailed in her wake as she shouldered her way towards the giant.

    Alarmed by the sudden shoving, the crowd slowly parted before Autumn to stare. The abrupt shift revealed a lone drow guardsman, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the fugitive witch. Before he could raise his crossbow, a forceful jinx caught him in the chest, sending him rocketing back into a cage with a clang. He slumped down, unconscious.

    For a second, the crowd was silent, taking in what¡¯d happened.

    ¡°Criminals! Seize them!¡± A shout rang through the crowd.

    The command stirred the crowd into action. Faces twisted into fright and outrage. Reaching out, they sought to grasp onto the lone witch they saw as vulnerable and weak ¡ª a crime worse than anything in this city of wolves.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Autumn swore.

    Hands bounced off a violet shield with pained cries. Drawing from the air, Autumn flung jinxes about herself with wild abandon, unable to miss in the dense crowd. However, even as those caught were flung back, more took their place, greed gleaming in their eyes. Fury flooded Autumn¡¯s veins.

    ¡°All of you Begone!¡± she screamed.

    A shockwave pulsed out from the embattled witch, sending those trying to grasp onto her flying back into those behind them, scattering them down like struck bowling pins. The shockwave kept going, rippling through the crowd, depositing terror into their minds.

    All was quiet once more, then the screaming started.

    A berserker¡¯s enraged roar joined the crowd¡¯s panic. The vocal fury swiftly followed by the sounds of metal and bone crunching beneath the weight of an iron hammerhead. From the same spot, potions and runes bloomed in the dark, joining the song of violence.

    At this frenetic signal, unlocked cages around Autumn broke open to disgorge a wave of furious war-slaves upon the terrified crowd. Upon the whipmasters they fell first, tearing limb from limb, before seizing their weapons to turn upon the slavers and merchants.

    The human guards of the Divine Empire shielded their frightened masters with bronze arms and armor as they shepherded them back towards their ships anchored in the harbor. Slaves pursued the fleeing merchants with varying degrees of success.

    Captain Iymidril snarled as the sudden riot erupted between her and Autumn. The pair¡¯s eyes locked for a moment before the drow drew a spiked whip and lashed out at those in her way.

    More crimson whetted the stones.

    The giant¡¯s laughter boomed, rattling Autumn¡¯s bones.

    Autumn pushed her way through the crush as her nose bled. Those that got in the way of the fed-up witch got a stunning jinx to the face and left at the mercy ¡ª or lack thereof ¡ª of the freed slaves. The casting of violet illuminated the growing scowl cresting the witch¡¯s face.

    In the violence, a slave mistook her fleeing form for that of a slaver. Raising their stolen club high, the bloodied human rushed at Autumn with a vengeful howl. Autumn spun in place, her magic already intercepting the descending weapon. However, as she did so, her leg caught upon a fallen body, sending her falling back under the weight of the slave.

    The air rushed from Autumn¡¯s lungs as she impacted the blood-slick cobblestones. Gasping, she glanced up and met the maddened eyes of the slave atop her. Grimy hands sought to strangle her.

    Autumn lashed out instinctively, grasping onto the slave¡¯s face. Her Touch of Terror flooded the slave¡¯s mind with a wave of unholy despair, conjuring the worst of their nightmares to the forefront of their mind. Unable to take the sheer amount of fear flooding them, the human slave¡¯s eyes rolled back, and they slumped down atop Autumn, further driving the air from the witch¡¯s lungs with a wheeze.

    Pinned beneath the weight, Autumn was helpless as the frightened crowd rampaged around her. Boots slammed into her face and body as they scrambled past. A lucky ¡ª or unlucky depending on how you view it ¡ª strike cracked against Autumn¡¯s jaw, splitting her lip.

    Panicked and enraged, Autumn shouted, funneling her magic desperately to free herself.

    ¡°Begone!!!¡±

    The unconscious body atop her was picked up by a wave of force, sending it and the others around the prone witch flying back once more. Autumn¡¯s head pounded from using the word of power. Her mouth felt dry and tasted of copper.

    With a bloodied lip and pounding headache, Autumn staggered to her feet amongst the clearing of groaning bodies. She limped towards the laughing giant that loomed blurry in her vision.

    Beside the giant¡¯s chains, stood its owner ¡ª a human merchant gilded in gold and ornate skulls. With a whip in hand, he lashed out repeatedly at the laughing giant, his face flushed purple in rage. ¡°Enough, you beast!¡± he raged, lashing again and again, but the giant ignored him and continued to laugh.

    The slaver drew his whip back to lash once more, but it was caught by something behind the man. He turned around to see what¡¯d stopped him and came face to face with a bloodied, dark-eyed witch.

    Without a word, Autumn drove a dagger into his eye.

    She let the body drop to the cobblestones, lightly stepping over it to gaze up at the giant bound to the stones. Long matted hair dangled over a set of bright, gigantic eyes and a maw of yellowed teeth. The giant felt her gaze upon it and turned to look at the witch standing over the body of its tormenter and captor. A massive unkempt eyebrow raised.

    Autumn met the giant¡¯s eyes unflinching and spoke to it in the J?tun tongue ¡ª the language of giants.

    ¡°If I free you, will you help us?¡±

    The giant¡¯s booming laughter halted as it heard her words. After a moment of thought, a rumbling voice emerged from the creature¡¯s maw, carrying with it a wave of rotten stench.

    Autumn scrunched her nose at the smell.

    ¡°And who,¡± it boomed, ¡°is ¡®us?¡¯¡±

    The force of its voice staggered Autumn back a step.

    ¡°Me, my friends, the slaves! Anyone who isn¡¯t a drow or slaver!¡± she shouted back up at it.

    The giant eyed the witch. ¡°To feast on bones, is my way. To gorge on lesser kin, I indulge. If you free, as you say, I shall eat and eat and eat on those not you or yours, you have my word.¡±

    Autumn eyed the giant back. ¡°I swear if you hurt me or my friends, you¡¯ll regret it.¡±

    A grin was her response. ¡°A giant¡¯s word is booming and loud, heard for all to hear. If I break it, you will know, for my steps are never quiet. I know the cost of witches and hags both, and I know not to cast either aside. You have my word, speaker to giants.¡±

    Autumn grumbled, but took the rune Edwyn gave her from her belt anyway and, as they¡¯d shown her, activated it before crashing it onto the enchanted chains holding the giant down. A wave of magic rippled over the enchantments ¡ª they flickered and died.

    With the magic gone, the giant flexed, causing the metal links to creak and groan.

    A fearful silence washed over the scrambling crowd as they heard the noise. Even the beasts huddled in their cages quelled. All watched on in terror as the giant¡¯s muscles bulged against the thick dark-steel. The metal strained and strained, desperately holding onto its shape, but with a final thunderous roar, the giant snapped the metal, freeing themselves from their bonds.

    As the giant laughed once more, the screaming started anew, this time louder and more desperate than before.

    A ruthless grin stole over the giant¡¯s face. It reached down into the frightened crowd, plucking up a terrified guardsman in its massive grasp. The guardsman screamed, tearfully begging for help from his fellows as he futilely drove a dagger into the thick flesh of the giant¡¯s hand ¡ª the strikes little more than pinpricks to it. Up he was raised, up to the giant¡¯s stinking, gaping maw¡­

    ¡­and the giant bit.

    Gore rained down on the stones.

    Screams grew louder at the sight.

    Autumn hadn¡¯t bothered to stick around to watch after she¡¯d freed the giant. Instead, she¡¯d rushed northward through the stunned crowd, making her way towards the eastern river tower, intent on opening the passage. However, just as the screaming restarted, and just before she crossed the market¡¯s edge, a whip lashed out towards her, halting her in place as it scythed across her hastily raised shield.

    The sharp-tipped whip scored a bright line across the magic an inch from Autumn¡¯s eye.

    Following the path of the retreating whip, Autumn met the eyes of the drow captain once more.

    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± Iymidril purred. ¡°Look at what we have here. I thought there was something strange about you when we first met, I just didn¡¯t think it was this. A slave lover? Here I was hoping for something a little more original. Good work on killing those brotherhood drones ¡ª my mother is extraordinarily pissed at that.¡±

    ¡°Look,¡± Autumn growled, ¡°I don¡¯t have time for you right now, so I¡¯ll make it simple: get out of my way or die.¡±

    Lymidril smirked at her threat. ¡°Oh? Will you be able to, I wonder?¡± she cracked her spiked whip in the air. ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Seven: Storm in a Teacup

    Upon Autumn¡¯s shield of glowing might, a spiked whip cracked. Like a coiled viper, it snapped out at her, carving glowing lines in her protective magic. Yet Autumn was no meek mouse ¡ª her force field held against the lash of the whip.

    Again, the whip cracked. Again, her magic held.

    Like a living thing, the whip spun through the air, coiling and swirling in a hypnotic pattern ¡ª a dance of promised death.

    Autumn was not one to just meekly defend. Not anymore, at least. With a flourish, she sent a rain of violence sleeting across the empty space towards the beautifully deadly drow. The howling tempest roared around the drow as she danced languidly through its storm. Upon the stones, it crashed and splashed, breaking harmlessly.

    A cruel smile lazily crested the drow¡¯s features just as a scowl slipped onto Autumn¡¯s own.

    ¡°Is that it?¡± Iymidril the drow mocked. ¡°Where is that fire, that force you visited upon the others?¡±

    ¡°What would you know of me?¡± Autumn snarled back. ¡°You know nothing about me!¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know so much about you! Oh. So. Much. You think that the city, my city, wasn¡¯t watching as you slaughtered your way around? It¡¯s always watching little killer.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t call me that!¡±

    ¡°What? You don¡¯t like it, little killer? I wonder which part offends you so?¡±

    Autumn snarled as she sent another wave of magic screaming towards the drow captain. With the captain distracted, Autumn rushed to put the rows of empty iron cages between them. As she did, the razor-sharp tip of the whip cracked against a cage inches from Autumn¡¯s face.

    ¡°Running now, are we? Good. I always loved the chase.¡±

    In a borderline sexual tone, the drow spoke as she paced alongside Autumn, only separated by a wall of iron, sending a shiver of disgust creeping along the witch¡¯s spine.

    By now, the rebellion of the slaves had reached a crescendo. Fury unabated stained the air, wetting the stones with the blood of slavers alongside their own. Autumn pushed her way through the fighting as she tried to put distance between herself and the drow, hoping the violence would slow the drow chasing her.

    Yet it was not to be.

    Where brutality unavoidable sought to slow the pursuant drow, she met it with a savagery of her own. Blood and terror flowed freely from her whip, hounding Autumn with anguished cries. The barbarous sounds melding into the sonorous sounds of the sadistic city.

    ¡°Where do you run to, little killer?¡± Iymidril purred as she stalked after Autumn. ¡°There¡¯s nowhere in my city you can run to or hide in that I can¡¯t find. Just make it easier on yourself and give up. I promise not to punish you too much.¡± She smirked, ¡°too much. Pets need their discipline after all. Be too light with the whip and they have thoughts of their own. You understand, right?¡±

    ¡°Stay away from me, you psychopath!¡±

    ¡°Now, now. There¡¯s no need for name-calling. You might hurt my feelings,¡± Iymidril pouted as she fingered the coils of her whip, not once taking her eyes away from Autumn¡¯s own. They burned dangerously. ¡°I¡¯ll have to beat that out of you ¡ª can¡¯t have you disrespecting your mistress that way. Imagine the talk! I¡¯d be practically mortified.¡±

    Autumn glared back at her. ¡°You¡¯re insane ¡ª¡±

    The crack of the whip spilt the air, cutting Autumn off.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t I just say you shouldn¡¯t disrespect your mistress,¡± Iymidril barked, no longer smiling so pleasantly. ¡°Seems I¡¯ll have to start your lessons on manners early.¡±

    ¡°Teach this!¡± Autumn snarled as she sent a series of bright bolts the drow¡¯s way.

    Iymidril the drow cocked her head in amusement as she danced unconcerned around the magic that sought to scour her flesh. ¡°That makes no sense.¡±

    ¡°S-shut up!¡±

    Sweat lanced down Autumn¡¯s back like a line of fire as she danced the dance of death with the razor-whipped dancer all across the plaza. Each breath she took in their melee was shorter, rougher than the last.

    Think! She thought to herself. I can¡¯t win this by force alone ¡ª she¡¯s too skilled, too dangerous with that whip of hers. Autumn observed the deadly flower across from her. How would I defeat the others? Nethlia or Liddie? Not with pure force. Use your head Autumn!

    Autumn looked about the plaza, eyes searching for an advantage.

    It¡¯d only been a few minutes, but by now, the slave revolt was well underway. Upon the masters, the freed folk had fallen, cutting them down with liberated blades. Merchants who¡¯d once peddled their blood trade now lay dead on the very stones they¡¯d bloodied for the glint of coin. Monsters and beasts sought and chained for war now ramaged freely in the broken square, crushing and carving slaves and slavers alike in their fury.

    Newfound hope, homicidal rage, and the city¡¯s ever-present saturation of despair swept through the air, enveloping the sky in a swirling storm of fear. It looked thunderous to Autumn, and she smelt lightning in the air.

    That¡¯s it! She cried to herself.

    Racking her brain for all her highschool science education was worth, Autumn thought furiously as she continued to avoid the drow¡¯s whip and taunts. Positive and negative charges, right? She thought to herself, unsure. Would magic work like that? Surely, right? I mean, it smells like it to me? Maybe that means something? Either way, it¡¯s worth a shot!

    With her bone-white wand gripped tightly in her hand, Autumn slowly prowled around the broken marketplace, trying to draw the drow whip-wielder into position beneath the greatest ¡®charge¡¯ of fear in the air.

    Iymidirl followed Autumn¡¯s footsteps like a panther playing with its prey or like that of a spider waiting for her to tire herself in its web.

    The wand in Autumn¡¯s hand tingled with anticipation.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter, little killer? Grown tired of the chase?¡± Iymidril mocked as she stalked closer, unaware of the trap Autumn was lulling her into. ¡°Where are your fangs, I wonder? Was it all a lie? A facade of deadliness and deathliness? Did you not enjoy the doom you visited on the drones?¡±

    ¡°Drones? What drones?¡± Autumn swallowed nervously as she backed away, practically inviting the drow to follow. It took all her willpower not to look up at the lingering storm only she could see, lest the captain see something in her gaze.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Thankfully, the drow was far too enraptured in her own voice for the moment and noticed naught as she strode beneath the gathering storm.

    ¡°Come now, there¡¯s no need to play coy ¡ª it¡¯s just us girls here, after all.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Iymidril rolled her eyes. ¡°The menfolk? The ones you murdered, rather creatively I might add, in that back-alley? Don¡¯t tell me you forgot? That¡¯s rather callous of you, even for this city. Maybe you¡¯ll fit in more than I thought!¡±

    Autumn stared at the drow captain aghast. ¡°I didn¡¯t murder anyone! They attacked me! I was just defending myself!¡±

    ¡°Dead is dead, girl. Call it what you want, but you rotted a man¡¯s face off. It was¡­impressive.¡± The drow licked her lips as she shuddered. ¡°It made me want you all the more. Almost made me feel bad about sending them to their deaths. Almost.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s mind stalled. ¡°Wait, what?¡± She asked as her mind restarted.

    ¡°Hmm? Which part of that confused your poor human brain?¡±

    ¡°You sent those goons after us?¡± Autumn growled. ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°Why not? I saw something I wanted, so I sought to take it. Hardly anything strange in a city such as this. Your¡­nativity gives you away. Surely, such an action would be second nature to a necro-witch such as yourself?¡± Iymidril smirked. ¡°But, then again, you aren¡¯t a necromancer at all, are you?¡±

    ¡°What makes you say that?¡± Autumn asked nervously as she took two more steps back, her eyes flickering in her skull. ¡°Did you not see my raised horses and carriage made of bones?¡±

    Iymidril followed like a hound after a bloody steak, matching Autumn step for confident step.

    ¡°Oh, I don¡¯t know, maybe it was the fact you left half-a-dozen fresh corpses just laying about in some back-alley?¡± Iymidril mocked. ¡°Hardly necromantic behavior that. That, and I¡¯ve met necromancers before. The magic they wield has a tendency to¡­change their features and not for the better. There¡¯s a reason that most high-level practitioners of that particular art tend towards lichdom and you are far too pretty to have been a part of that life for long.¡±

    Autumn tightened her grip on her wand as Iymidril took the final step forwards, placing her just where the dark-haired witch wanted her.

    ¡°You know, I am surprised you left your pet devil behind, if that¡¯s what she really is. I¡¯d have thought a mage such as yourself would¡¯ve known she¡¯s no match for a trained fighter. One such as myself, for instance.¡±

    Defiance blossomed in Autumn¡¯s eyes. She stared at the beautiful, sensuous drow across from her with fire in her eyes.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need her for the likes of you.¡±

    Screaming magic tore through the air like a flash, cascading all around the dancing drow, barely missing her to sunder the stones at her feet. Each spell Autumn unleashed as the darting whip struck her shield wreathed the ground in a pulse of energy ¡ª negative to match the positive high above.

    Iymidril stared at Autumn in disappointment.

    ¡°Is that all?¡± She drawled.

    Autumn answered her with another bolt of magic that pitted the ground at her feet. Blood pounded in the witch¡¯s ears as the whip-fighter gave her a look of dissatisfaction, malice gleaming in her eyes.

    ¡°Come now. You needn¡¯t scuff my boots. Give me a proper fight before I break you. You were doing so well!¡±

    Through the pain in her skull, birthed by words of power spoken unbound by vellum nor with a mind trained in its use, Autumn cast her magic, saturating the ground with greater charge.

    Bored by the lackluster game Autumn offered her, Iymidril moved to step closer to the casting witch to cut and hurt. Not wanting to give the drow a chance to dodge the lightning she was trying to bring down, Autumn sent a bolt of magic careening towards her leading foot, forcing her to stop in place lest she lose it.

    Iymidril¡¯s face screwed up in confusion at aggressive action, recognizing it for the corralling intent she too favored. Her face swiftly morphed into suspicion and she risked a glance downward where she saw the ground sparking with a violet energy. As it began reaching heavenward to the dark thunder-clouds gathering above ¡ª unusual, seeing as they were in a cavern ¡ª Iymidril¡¯s face froze in shock as she snapped her gaze up.

    Then, with a deafening boom, the lightning struck.

    Autumn blinked the spots from her eyes, ears ringing as she found herself sprawled on the ground, not quite recalling how she got there. Her mouth tasted like ash as she tried to corral her thoughts into a semblance of order. Gingerly, she picked herself up and cast her gaze across to where her opponent once stood.

    The veritable force of nature she¡¯d called down had sundered the pavement with its thunderous discharge, sending blackened cobblestones flying outwards at terrifying speeds. Piteous moaning resounded from the clearing¡¯s edge where slavers and slaves alike lay, cut down equally by the stony shrapnel. And in the center of this blasted clearing sat a small crater, in which lay a charred, broken corpse.

    A weak wheeze emanated from the fallen drow.

    Not a corpse then, Autumn amended herself. For now, at least.

    On aching feet, Autumn dragged herself closer to the crater.

    The drow captain that lay before the victorious witch¡¯s feet was no longer as aggressively beautiful as she once was. Gone was her long, luxurious white hair. Gone were her beauteous purple skin, her sculpted armor, and piercing eyes. In their place was now melted armor fused to blackened, cracked skin, and milky eyes leaking and oozing fluid.

    A smell not unlike that of cooked meat rose from the charred corpse, reminding Autumn unpleasantly of the dragon steaks she¡¯d once had. Of course, that memory also brought up just where she¡¯d had them and what¡¯d lain outside said tower.

    It took all her willpower not to throw up.

    Sightless eyes stared up at Autumn as she loomed over the broken drow. A pair of cracked lips parted to wheeze out a fumbling attempt at words far too low to hear over the buzzing whine in Autumn¡¯s ears. She lent in closer, crouching down to hear what might be the drow¡¯s last words.

    ¡°...please¡­spare¡­me,¡± the drow croaked out.

    Autumn heard nothing more as she rocked back in contemplation.

    She felt a responsibility for the fate of her foe. If the drow had¡¯ve died fighting, struck dead by the lightning blast, Autumn doubted she¡¯d have thought twice about it. Just walked over her body on her way to the next fight. But with her laying here, vulnerable, begging for a mercy Autumn didn¡¯t know if she had, she fell into her thoughts.

    Was she a murderer, as Iymidril had implied?

    She hadn¡¯t hesitated when confronted with the drow that¡¯d been at her mercy before, and despite Nelva¡¯s reassurances that she¡¯d feel otherwise, Autumn didn¡¯t know if she cared.

    Was this what her mother had warned her about?

    That if you fell into the wrong crowd, your thoughts and actions might twist beyond your very nature?

    To be guided down a path you¡¯d not normally take?

    Or was she a killer at heart?

    Autumn¡¯s grip tightened around her wand, feeling at the dragon¡¯s arrogance inside it as the cold weight of her amulet pressed against the valley of her breast.

    No. She could not hesitate. Not if she wanted to kill a hag.

    Standing up from her crouch with only a token groan as her knees protested, Autumn stood over the battered form of Iymidril the drow like the gathered storm she¡¯d conjured. Letting out a steadying breath, the dark-eyed witch let a lazy smile that didn¡¯t feel crest across her face. Leveling her wand down towards the form muttering near inaudible pleas, she whispered more to herself than her foe.

    ¡°Well. This has been a blast, a shocking encounter really, but I must be off. Watt can I say, I¡¯m a busy witch. Auf Wiedersehen.¡±

    A blast of violet light lit up the street and, when it cleared, only the witch remained amongst the living. Slowly, ponderously, she wandered off, moving towards the great bastion to the north that housed one end of the massive river-chain blocking her party¡¯s escape route.

    As she walked into the darkness of the alleyways, she wondered to herself, was this how my soul dies? A hundred, a thousand little actions to justify getting home?

    Autumn paused.

    Do I actually have a home to go back to? Would they recognize me if I returned? Do I care if they don¡¯t?

    The dark-haired witch disguised as a dark-haired necromancer shook her head, dispelling her melancholic thoughts.

    Through the dark alleys her soft yet smokey voice lingered.

    ¡°I¡¯m shocked to meet you? No. What about ¡ª Time to bolt? Strike three, you¡¯re out? Resistance is futile? Hey, that¡¯s a good one! An en-lightning experience? You¡¯re guilty as charged? Now you¡¯re just being silly, Autumn.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Eight: Riverside Property

    Through darkened streets wandered a thin figure clad in necromancer robes. To the north they meandered, taking the twisting paths and crooked ways of the city¡¯s northern slums. Here, the buildings grew crooked like broken teeth as they huddled beneath the oppressive gaze of the dark walls and towers.

    Shadowy figures loomed in cracked doorways, shielded by the anonymity of shadows. They watched on warily as the robed figure marched on by like a wrath.

    Wisely, they took their troubles back indoors rather than bother the lone figure.

    The figure continued on across the uneven, grimy cobblestones as they made their way towards a tower in the distance. Before too long had passed, the dark figure reached their destination and peered out into the streets from the shade of a dim alleyway, soft light illuminating their features.

    Autumn squinted up at the sinister fortress across the way from beneath the brim of her rat-chewed hat, keeping a sharp eye on the guards patrolling its base.

    The massive, broad tower straddled the red river at the end of the dark metal walls, mirrored by a twin on the opposite bank. Connecting the two was a heavy chain, currently raised to deny passage to any ships, small or large, that wished to leave the embroiled city. Glancing up the circular tower, Autumn spied a great number of narrow windows ¡ª arrow slits ¡ª lining the walls, lit from within by glowing flame. Every so often, the lights would flicker as guards passed by the thin openings.

    On the outside, dozens of armed and armored guardsmen patrolled on high alert. Watchful eyes scoured the city from the safety of their walls.

    There were only two entrances that Autumn could see. One on the ground floor, the other along the wall. Currently, the massive double doors that opened up into the tower were mostly closed and guarded by four drow in heavy armor wielding massive tower shields. And while the door on the wall was less guarded than the ones on the ground floor, it still had an armored drow blocking the way in, one who easily outweighed Autumn many times over.

    Before she¡¯d gotten her powers, Autumn wouldn¡¯t have thought that someone could infiltrate such a well-defended place. Especially not her. Hell, before she could travel through the black waters, she would¡¯ve been hard pressed to do so even with magic at her fingertips.

    Now, it seemed trivially easy to her.

    With barely a whisper, Autumn slipped into the shadows at her feet, vanishing from the world into the strange dark only she knew. Once more she felt the frigid waters envelop her, threatening to rob the breath from her lungs. Yet it felt soothing on her pulsing mind, still overtaxed by the words of power.

    Shaking off the feeling, Autumn swam beneath the street, heading towards the tower. And as she passed beneath the thick walls, she glanced up, getting her first look at its interior.

    An entry hall sat beyond the thick double doors leading into the tower, housing another set of equally thick doors. A series of murder-holes lined the ceiling, poised to deliver a rain of bolts down on any would-be invaders.

    Effortlessly, Autumn passed beneath the second set of doors and into the second chamber.

    The next room Autumn peeked up into was much more brightly lit than the last. Ironically, this made it harder for her to see. Yet, judging by the number of shifting shadows cast by the people in the room, she counted at least half-a-dozen guards within it.

    With her lungs burning for air, Autumn moved swiftly over to a shadowed corner of the room out of immediate sight to breach the surface for air. After taking a few shallow, quiet gulps of air, she examined the room.

    Just as she¡¯d guessed, several armed guards occupied it. However, despite being in a state of readiness, they weren¡¯t as armed or armored as the ones outside.

    Curious, Autumn looked over the room.

    On the far wall she noticed an open door, beyond which she saw the gleam of weaponry, while to the back of the room she spied a doorway leading to a spiraling stairwell. Likely, that was the way up. Only one bored guardsman blocked the way, his back to the stairwell.

    Taking a large gulp of air, Autumn dipped back under the shadows and made her way over to the open armory.

    Peeking up through the surface of the black water after she¡¯d passed under the wall, Autumn saw a myriad of polished weapons gleaming along the walls and spare sets of armor hanging from wooden frames. In the center of the room, keeping a watchful eye over the bastion¡¯s inventory, was a lone drow, older-looking than most she¡¯d seen.

    A quartermaster, Autumn wagered.

    Swimming closer to him, Autumn got a good look at him. Gruff and rugged, the drow male looked like he¡¯d weathered a great deal of time and conflict. Spying the ring of keys on his hip, Autumn got an idea.

    A conflicted expression crested her face a second before she hardened her heart.

    Slowly, Autumn swam closer like a circling shark as the quartermaster wandered the armory, taking inventory of the undistributed arms and armor. Into his shadow, she slunk.

    Waiting.

    Watching.

    Unseen, her hands reached out of the dark when the quartermaster stilled for a fateful moment. Higher they crept till around a pair of leather-clad ankles they locked. Before the quartermaster could realize what was happening, Autumn pulled him down into her lightless world.

    With nary a splash, he vanished.

    Blind in the dark waters, air robbed from his lungs by the icy chill, the drow quartermaster thrashed with such force and desperation that Autumn was forced to let go. She drifted back, watching warily with a gleaming blade.

    Disorientated by the lack of light, the quartermaster couldn¡¯t tell up from down, and ended up lost in the dark as he fought for the surface.

    While Autumn could¡¯ve waited for him to drown, she wasn¡¯t confident that he couldn¡¯t find the surface and warn the others, even if it was only by luck. Slowly, knife in hand, she drifted closer and waited for an opportunity to strike.

    As the quartermaster slowed, Autumn rushed forwards and stabbed him in the chest.

    Once, twice, three times she stabbed till the waters turned an ugly red.

    A wild swing drove Autumn back, but it was too late. As her lungs burned, she watched the old drow still. Swimming down towards him, she cut his ring of keys free before he drifted down into the dark, disappearing into the black below.

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Sorry old man, but it was you or me.

    Swimming back up to the surface, Autumn let out a stream of bubbles as she exhaled a sigh.

    What is wrong with me? Couldn¡¯t I have knocked him out or something? Or just ignored the armory? Why did I feel the need to kill him? How many people have I killed so far? Three? Four? Do goblins count?

    ¡°I doubt it.¡±

    The sudden sound of the Banshee¡¯s ghostly voice resounding in her mind elicited a startled scream from Autumn, sending ice into her lungs. Choking, she breached the surface and gasped for air. Silently retching, she glowered at nothing.

    ¡®Don¡¯t startle me like that!¡¯ Autumn hissed as she listened to the murmur of conversation beyond the open door. Luckily, it seemed no one heard the splash of the quartermaster¡¯s demise.

    ¡°Oh, didst thee forget mine self? How rude thou art be!¡±

    ¡®I didn¡¯t forget you!¡¯ Autumn protested as she cautiously made her way over to the door, wincing at each of her sodden steps. ¡®I was underwater if you didn¡¯t notice. Hardly a place I¡¯m expecting a voice to pop up out of nowhere!¡¯

    At least, she hoped not. Who knows what else lived in the black water?

    ¡°Quite the charming local thee hath decided to bathe in,¡± the Banshee said in a tone drier than a desert. ¡°Hardly the place one ought to frequent, do thou hath swum in far more forbidden waters.¡±

    ¡®You mean the Styx?¡¯

    Listening at the door, Autumn breathed a sigh of relief as she heard no sounds of alarm. Slowly, she eased the door such, wincing at every creak. Thankfully for her, before his untimely death, the quartermaster of the armory kept the hinges well oiled and the door swung closed fairly soundlessly. With only a slight jingling of keys and the thunk of an engaging lock, Autumn was now locked away in the armory.

    ¡°¡®You mean the Styx,¡¯ she says,¡± the Banshee mocked. ¡°Spoken as if that vaunted place is not a firmament of reality, but a simple river one can just ¡®skinny-dip¡¯ in.¡±

    ¡®Hey! It¡¯s not like I wanted to.¡¯

    ¡°Yet, you did. I wonder what the consequences were.¡±

    Autumn paused. ¡®What do you mean? What consequences? You mean like Achilles? I¡¯m pretty sure I¡¯ve been hurt a bunch by now.¡¯

    The Banshee hummed. ¡°It¡¯s not my place to say, but it¡¯s not a river to take lightly. Be thankful thou didst not fall in the river Lethe for thou shalt have forgotten all thou are.¡±

    A shudder ran along Autumn¡¯s spine at the thought.

    ¡®Right, I¡¯ll cancel my travel plans.¡¯

    The Banshee huffed a laugh. ¡°Best do, the underworld is no place for the likes of thee.¡±

    ¡®Right,¡¯ Autumn drawled.

    Carefully, she tucked the iron keys away into her belt pouch, lest they jingle too loud and give her away. Looking over the rest of the armory, Autumn took in the racks of weaponry and armor. Dark swords and daggers polished to a sheen lay stacked in wall mounted racks while the repeating crossbows Autumn had seen before lay folded and organized atop a series of wooden benches ready for inspection besides crates upon crates of dark bolts to match them.

    Autumn gulped audibly.

    ¡°Why doth thee linger so?¡±

    ¡®What do you mean? Here? In this armory?¡¯

    The Banshee hummed noncommittally. ¡°Yes and no. More I mean over thine foes. They art dead, no use in mourning those whom meant little to thee.¡±

    Autumn shrugged as she moved to start looting. ¡®I don¡¯t know. Shouldn¡¯t I feel bad about killing people?¡¯

    ¡°Hath thee been speaking to knights or ¡ª eugh ¡ª a paladin?¡± The Banshee spoke disdainfully.

    ¡®Maybe,¡¯ Autumn muttered as she stuffed daggers into her belt. ¡®What¡¯s it to you?¡¯

    ¡°They art but weeds ¡ª thee hath to pull them up by the roots or before thee knows aught, thee¡¯ll be up to thy eyeballs in self-righteous jackanapes.¡±

    Autumn snorted. ¡®She isn¡¯t that bad.¡¯

    ¡°They are,¡± the Banshee stressed. ¡°Those holier-than-thou types get you with their soft voices and muscular bodies and before you know it, you¡¯ll be praying to some golden bint. Mark my words.¡±

    ¡®Ok?¡¯

    ¡°...Hesitation is a blade that cuts only its wielder.¡±

    Autumn paused in her looting. ¡®Are you¡­throwing random quotes at me to distract me?¡¯

    ¡°Maybe. Is it working?¡±

    A small smile tugged at Autumn¡¯s lips. ¡®Maybe.¡¯

    ¡°Even if I was ¡ª which I wasn¡¯t ¡ª it doth not make it untrue. Thou art on a quest to slay a hag most foul. Hesitation will see thee felled ¡ª the foul hag shalt not let such a boon pass her by. Remember such, if thee forget all else.¡±

    ¡®I will. Not forget, that is¡­I¡¯ll not hesitate when the time comes.¡¯

    ¡°Good. Now, get moving and don¡¯t forget those vials.¡±

    ¡®What vials?¡¯ Autumn asked as she looked around the room.

    ¡°On the bench to your left. In yond small wooden crate.¡±

    True to the Banshee¡¯s words, Autumn found a small wooden box to her left, well hidden by a few other empty boxes. Opening it revealed a straw packed interior in which nestled a set of ten vials full of a clear liquid.

    ¡®What are they? And how did you know they were there?¡¯

    ¡°Poison most like, and doth I needth to hold thine hand in everything?¡± The Banshee huffed.

    ¡®No,¡¯ Autumn drawled suspiciously in her mind, ¡®but these were really well hidden. I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have found myself. Just what are you hiding?¡¯

    Silence greeted Autumn as she felt the Banshee retreat into the cold amulet.

    ¡°Typical,¡± Autumn muttered out loud as she tucked the poisons away.

    Knowing that she was on a deadline, Autumn cast one last longing look at the partially looted armory before she slipped back into the freezing waters of her shadow. Under the tower¡¯s floor she swam, making her way towards the stairwell at the back. Above her flickered the shadows of the guards, cast by a myriad of glowing lanterns that decorated the main chamber.

    As she neared the bottom of the stairwell, Autumn suddenly realized a key restriction to her newfound method of travel. In hindsight, it was kinda obvious.

    She couldn¡¯t travel up.

    The surface of the black water only showed the shadows relative to where she¡¯d entered, growing fuzzier the further she went out. She felt like she could go down and exit from a lower point, but Autumn didn¡¯t like the look of the deep black that seemed to reach up towards her.

    As such, if Autumn wanted to go up, she needed to exit and traverse the mortal world.

    ¡°Shock! Horror!¡±

    ¡®Jezzus!¡¯ Autumn jolted in the water. ¡®Didn¡¯t I ask you not to do that!¡¯

    ¡°Thou didst~¡±

    Grumbling under her breath, Autumn positioned herself as far back as she could in the stairwell and pulled herself quietly out of the black waters. Icy robes clung uncomfortably tight to her skin as her damp hair fell across her face, attempting to suffocate her. With a flick of her wand and a muttered incantation, Autumn sent the frigid water back into her shadow with a near-silent splash.

    Frozen, she watched the back of the guard as he shifted.

    In her chest, her heart thundered so loudly she was sure he could hear it. Thankfully, after a moment, the guard settled back into his bored posture.

    Autumn breathed a silent sigh of relief. If the guards didn¡¯t kill her, her heart might just do it for them.

    As soundlessly as she could, Autumn backed up the spiraling stairs. She climbed them as fast as she could whilst not making too much noise, only the slight shifting of cloth denoted her passing. While she made good time climbing the stairway, just as she was passing the penultimate bend, the sound of footsteps rushing down made her freeze.

    Before she could vanish in shadow, a drow rounded the narrow stairwell, crashing into Autumn, sending her reeling.

 Chapter One Hundred and Nine: Blood in the Stairwell

    Autumn gasped as her head bounced off the wall behind her. Pain instantly clouded her vision, sending a roiling wave of nausea surging up her throat that almost made her vomit as the world spun around her. Her hands futilely grasped for her weapons as they slipped from her fingers, falling to the steps with a startling clatter.

    Terror soured her mind as the drow¡¯s weight pressed up against her. A desperate wheeze escaped the dark-haired witch as the air was driven from her lungs.

    Mistaking Autumn for a female drow, the male drow panicked. Frantically, he tried to distance himself from Autumn, but in doing so, he accidentally cracked her across the jaw with a flailing backhand.

    With a pained groan, the witch slid down the wall, falling roughly onto her behind.

    The drow looked terrified.

    Terrified herself, Autumn twitched her fingers towards the knife that¡¯d fallen near her feet. Anger took a hold of the witch¡¯s features as she funneled her fear into power.

    Turning her eyes upward, she glared at the blurry form of the drow standing awkwardly over her.

    In the darksome light, he cut an unimpressive image. A slender physique lay uncovered by any armor, clad only by a pale tunic and supple leather pants. Around his thin waist he¡¯d hastily buckled a leather belt, adorned by a sheathed dark dagger.

    From a pair of terrified lips, hurried apologies fell.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Mistress! I wasn¡¯t looking where I was going! Please forgive¡ª¡±

    Autumn¡¯s heart thundered in her chest as she lay on the ground.

    Above her, the drow continued his wild gesticulations and hurried apologies, trying in vain to appease what he thought was a furious drow female. Perhaps it¡¯d have been a kinder fate if she was.

    Taking steadying breaths, Autumn carefully dragged her feet beneath herself and crept her fingers tight around her black knife¡¯s hilt. At her silent command, magic bloomed along her fingertips.

    Violet light lit up the stairwell.

    As the drow¡¯s red eyes widened, the witch leapt with terror and dread in hand.

    The drow tried to scramble back, but there was nowhere to go in the narrow confines of the spiraling stairwell and, in his haste, he tripped on a step behind himself. As he fell, Autumn descended upon him like a furious dragon. Her hand, wreathed in violet terror, latched onto his throat and stifled his cry with a wave of paralyzing horror.

    As he froze in place, there was little he could do to halt what was to come.

    Through the stilled air, a knife of dread sang.

    Autumn thrust her dreadful knife up into the drow¡¯s unprotected armpit, feeling little resistance as she parted his flesh, spilling his crimson onto the steps. She recoiled slightly as the coppery scent filled the air.

    The sudden pain tore the drow from his terror-induced trance, driving a breathless cry from his deprived lungs. Beneath Autumn¡¯s grasp, he thrashed, fearfully seeking to cast her off and unsheathe his own blade to defend himself. However, with his blood still spilling onto the metal steps, he couldn¡¯t find the strength nor the leverage to tear it free from his belt.

    In his desperation, he swung out wildly towards Autumn.

    Almost contemptuously, she leaned back, dodging the weak blow. Grabbing his overextended arm, Autumn twisted the drow over, jerking her knife free from his armpit as she did so, splattering the ground with more blood. Now sitting heavily on his back, Autumn wasted no time in yanking his head back by his hair and resting her black blade across his exposed throat.

    With a grunt and a heave of exertion, Autumn carved him a new smile from ear to ear.

    Hot blood splattered across her hands.

    Dying gurgles filled the silence as the pool of crimson grew.

    The heady scent made Autumn want to hurl. Still, she kept a hold of the drow¡¯s scalp till his struggles ceased. When he finally did, the pale witch let his head fall with a wet thud.

    Panting laboriously, Autumn staggered to her feet before she practically collapsed against the cool metal wall as the rush of adrenaline faded from her system. The room spun as a pulse of agony from the back of her skull reminded her of her rising nausea.

    With her lunch threatening to make an unwanted reappearance, Autumn took a moment to just breathe.

    The smell of death lingered in the air, the silence broken only by Autumn¡¯s rough breathing.

    Quietly groaning in pain, she heaved herself off the comfort of the wall and glanced down towards the body.

    ¡°Fuck me. What shitty luck.¡±

    Crouching down, Autumn rested her crimson-coated palm against the shadows cast by the cooling body with a grimace and opened them up to the black waters with a muttered ritual. She watched with a tense jaw as the waters swallowed the young drow.

    Tiredly, Autumn reached up to massage her eyes, only to recoil as she caught sight of them. Blanching, she plunged them into the still open portal below her and frantically scrubbed them until they were clean in the icy waters.

    Once done, she snatched her wand up from where it¡¯d fallen and glanced around the stairwell.

    A pained look flashed over her features as she spied the blood splattered walls.

    Cursing beneath her breath, Autumn flicked her wand back and forth, casting her magic to scour the blood from the walls and steps as much as she could. While she got most of it with her hurried casting, some stains remained in the steps¡¯ grooves and a coppery smell lingered in the air. She just hoped she¡¯d be long gone before anyone noticed.

    Done with cleaning, Autumn marched swiftly up the remaining steps, only stopping just before the doorway to the next floor. Carefully cracking the heavy door, she peeked beyond it.

    Thankfully, only an empty hallway stretched before her

    Autumn leaned on the heavy door, straining to listen for any whisper of movement beyond, but all she could hear was the muted conversations coming up from below or the occasional sound of combat from out in the city.

    Feeling marginally more confident in her safety, Autumn stepped nervously out into the hallway, making a dash towards the nearest shadow.

    A quiet ritual and a drop of blood saw her dipping back into the icy blackness.

    Peeking up, Autumn got a better look at the floor above. Two spacious rooms sat on either side of the hallway. On Autumn¡¯s left sprawled a cramped barracks, full of half-made beds and lockers, while on her right lay a mixture of a canteen and recreation hall, complete with a gambling table covered in hastily discarded cards.

    Thankfully, both currently were utterly devoid of life.

    Autumn reemerged from the freezing waters with a sigh and, after cleansing herself once again of the water¡¯s cloying weight, rushed down the empty corridor towards the doorway at the end. Every heavy step she took on the bare metal made her wince, but she couldn¡¯t afford to go any slower than she already was.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Upon reaching the end of the hallway, Autumn paused before testing the door.

    Blessedly, it wasn¡¯t locked.

    Quietly opening it, Autumn gazed up at the staircase before her. Unlike the last, this one curved upwards to the left along the outer wall rather than spiraling back upon itself.

    Autumn listened at the base. Once more, she heard nothing.

    With a quickness, she flew up the steps towards the next floor. Pausing at the top, she looked beyond the opened door she found there.

    To her immediate right sat the other side of the heavy, banded door Autumn had seen atop the city wall whilst scouting from the outside. Directly opposite, a wide, lavish hallway stretched. Rich tapestries and banners of purples and blacks hung between a series of ornate doors while a velvet-looking carpet ran underfoot.

    In the rush of alarm, some of the former occupants of the private rooms had left their doors invitingly half-open.

    However, just before Autumn could properly gather her bearings, she heard the telltale thunk of a lock being disengaged beside her. Snapping her head to the sound, she watched on in horror as the outer door swung slowly open.

    Panicking, Autumn scurried down the hallway, making a beeline for one of the opened doors. She ducked inside one just as the heavy door creaked fully open behind her.

    While desperately stifling her heavy breathing, Autumn looked wildly about the room she¡¯d hurriedly hidden herself in.

    A small, but well-appointed, office greeted her searching eyes. An extravagant, dark oaken desk dominated the center of the room, absolutely covered in a mess of notes scrawled on loose velum. Looking beyond it, Autumn spied a curtained off bedroom at the back of the chamber, complete with a luxurious bed and expensive-looking wardrobe.

    Still listening at the door, Autumn paled as she heard soft footfalls approaching. Silently, she cursed her luck. She¡¯d hidden in the very room the owner was returning to!

    Making a snap decision, she rushed to hide.

    Carefully, Autumn brushed past the large oaken desk and rushed towards the back bedroom. There, her gaze flickered between the rumpled bed and the extensive wardrobe. And as the footsteps behind her grew, she discounted the bed, making her way towards the wardrobe. As quietly as she could, Autumn clambered inside of the closet to hide amongst the hanging robes.

    Just as she shut the closet doors, the office door slammed closed.

    Holding her breath, Autumn peeked through the thin slit left by the mostly closed doors and got a good look at the room¡¯s owner.

    Into the cramped chamber marched a tired female mage, her toned body clad in tight, purple and silver robes. A spiderweb-patterned cowl framed her beautiful drow features, pulling her long white hair to coil about her shoulders. Sharp eyes flickered around the chamber, narrowing as she spied an errant parchment that Autumn had accidentally knocked to the floor in her rush to hide.

    Autumn quietly gulped as the drow mage rounded the desk towards the wayward parchment.

    Now that she was closer, Autumn could see she carried a long, silver staff in one hand. To her witch-sight, it glowed brightly with magic.

    Grumbling under her breath, the mage leant her staff against the wall and bent to pick up the parchment.

    ¡°Fucking little shit making a mess. I don¡¯t need this shit. He¡¯ll need another session with the whip if he wants to keep warming my bed.¡±

    The mage angrily threw the retrieved page back atop the messy desk before turning to a shelf along the wall. Autumn couldn¡¯t see from her position what they were looking for, but before long, they plonked a decanter full of a silvery-green liquid onto the desk, uncaring about the papers already there.

    After filling a retrieved glass with a generous pour, the mage slugged it back, wincing at the taste.

    ¡°Urgh. Fuck, I needed that!¡± she growled before pouring herself another. ¡°Fucking fools, the lot of them. Can¡¯t even handle a minor rebellion, can they?! Heads will roll for this. I know it. Hopefully, it¡¯ll be Vanessa¡¯s. That bitch.¡±

    Fright stifled the giggle that threatened Autumn as she realized she was back in the closet. Physically, if not metaphorically. Her fingers were tense as they gripped her dragonbone wand.

    Every shallow breath Autumn dared to take cut through the surrounding silence like a gunshot to her ears. The thunder of her heartbeat sounded to her as if she had an entire marching band hidden in the closet with her.

    If she could just take a moment to whisper her black water ritual, she¡¯d be gone. However, without knowing how sensitive the mage was to magic or just her hearing, Autumn couldn¡¯t risk it.

    So she forced herself to wait.

    Unfortunately, it didn¡¯t look like she¡¯d be getting her chance.

    Autumn jumped as thundering knocks pounded on the mage¡¯s door. She bit back a curse as the wardrobe creaked at her movement.

    A voice cried loudly from out in the hallway. ¡°Mage Iraeanna! Come quick!¡±

    Furious at the interruption, the so named mage snatched up her staff and stormed towards the closed door. Wrenching it open, she snarled in the guard''s face.

    ¡°What! Don¡¯t you know I¡¯m busy!¡±

    The armored drow blanched, but valiantly delivered his message. ¡°My apologies mistress, but there¡¯s blood in the lower stairwell and we can¡¯t find young Derrick!¡±

    ¡°Oh? Is there now?¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t know what ultimately clued her in. Perhaps it was the far too calm tone of voice that the drow mage answered in? Perhaps it was how she tilted her head towards the closet ever so slightly? Or maybe Autumn was just too fucking paranoid.

    Either way, it meant that Autumn emerged from the closet as it exploded around her, clad in a powerful magical shield.

    The room lit up with violence ¡ª violet light clashing with a silvery glow.

    Jinx after jinx screamed towards the drow mage as Autumn sought to push her out into the hallway. Yet, like herself, the mage intercepted the flying spells with a shield of her own, cast from her leveled staff.

    In retaliation, she sent a barrage of magic missiles hurtling back towards the witch.

    Autumn grunted in annoyance as the spears of light bloomed one by one against her hastily erected shield. Sweat poured down her back as she forced more and more magic through her aching body and pounding mind. Steadily, she pushed towards the drow, growing closer step by step.

    Around the pair, the small office was shredded.

    With so much deadly magic blasting back and forth between the pair, inevitably, something was bound to give.

    Luckily, it wasn¡¯t Autumn who flinched first.

    An errantly-cast jinx splashed across the drow¡¯s silvery shield, deflecting off at an angle that sent it careening towards the guard frighteningly huddled beside her, catching him full in the face. He went down with a scream as the jinx¡¯s harmful effects rotted his face off.

    Startled by the cry going off so close to her, the drow mage flinched, halting her barrage for just a second.

    Just long enough for Autumn to yell, ¡°Begone, bitch!¡±

    A tide of magical force crashed into the mage, punting her across the hallway. With a choked gasp, the drow woman crashed into the far wall.

    Autumn rushed out into the hallway behind the mage, even as her head pulsed in agony, and sent another necrotic spell flying. She had just enough time to see it graze the mage¡¯s temple, sizzling her flesh, before a tower shield slammed into her side, sending her flying down the hallway.

    Rolling to a stop, Autumn pulled herself to her feet with a groan and looked back down the hall.

    Standing protectively between her and the mage was the towering, heavily armored drow she¡¯d spied loitering outside along the wall. His looming tower shield provided more than enough cover to protect both himself and the mage from a lucky jinx or hex. To make her day even worse, the rest of the guards were rushing up the stairwell behind him, all armed with dark crossbows that they trained towards Autumn¡¯s position.

    ¡°Fuck my life! What is with my luck today?!¡±

    Backpedaling down the hallway, Autumn sent wave after wave of necrotic jinxes towards the guards even as they returned fire with a barrage of poisoned bolts. While none of the bolts pierced Autumn¡¯s violet shield, the guards could not say the same about her attacks. Several of them fell to the ground with a gurgle as violet lights struck them dead.

    Upon reaching the end of the hallway, Autumn ducked to the right ¡ª her left if looking back towards the guards ¡ª breaking line of sight. She sprinted along the curving corridor. Behind her, she heard the furious pursuit of vengeful guards.

    At the end of the short corridor, another spiral stairwell loomed, ripping a frustrated growl free from Autumn¡¯s throat. She flew up the stairs, taking them two at a time with her long legs.

    The guards were still hot on her heels.

    A short corridor led away from the top of the stairs, at the end of which loomed a thick, metal door that a drow guardsman was hurriedly trying to close. Upon seeing Autumn thunder out of the stairwell, he redoubled his efforts.

    Autumn huffed and puffed as she sprinted along the hallway towards the door, not liking the burn in her lungs and thighs. Drawing closer, she leveled her wand towards the closing door.

    With a supreme force of will, the dark-eyed witch forced a tremendous amount of magic through her wand and cast the strongest forceful jinx she could. A surge of magic screamed across the gap between her and the door, and like a fist of god, it slammed into the metal, sending the heavy door careening back along its hinges.

    With a crunch, the door crashed into the guardsman¡¯s nose, sending him sprawling.

    Autumn shouldered her way past the opened door and into the winch-house. She looked up just in time to catch sight of an unleashed bolt whizzing towards her.

    ¡°Fuck my life.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Ten: Winch-house Blues

    The crossbow bolt slammed into Autumn¡¯s shoulder. Dark steel shrieked as it sparked off of her chainmail shirt. While the bolt didn¡¯t pierce her skin, the force of the blow still sent the young witch spinning away with a pained cry. Catching herself on the wall beside her, Autumn wildly fired back in the shooter¡¯s direction with a retaliatory jinx.

    Even with her atrocious aim, the targeted guard still hurled himself out of the way.

    Distracted, Autumn didn¡¯t see the other guard rushing towards her. He slammed into her from the side, driving the air from her lungs as he tackled her to the ground.

    Autumn cried out as her elbow cracked against the hard floor.

    Struggling under the drow guardsman¡¯s armored bulk, Autumn sought to drive her dark blade into his side. However, she wasn¡¯t fast enough and the guard easily caught her wrist in a harsh grip. He twisted her wrist painfully, forcing her already numb fingers to release her weapon. Once it¡¯d clattered to the metal ground, the drow quickly seized it and tossed it out of Autumn¡¯s reach.

    In retaliation, Autumn drove a knee into his groin, receiving a grunt and an armored fist to the gut as her reward.

    The sudden, harsh blow drove what little air Autumn had from her lungs. Gasping in pain, she instinctively curled in on herself. Vomit soured her tastebuds while down her cheeks ran a pair of black tears.

    Rough hands seized Autumn¡¯s wrists. Despite her resistance, the guard tore her wrists from the protective embrace of her chest and pinned them above her head. After leering down at her, the drow turned to shout at his companion.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got the bitch pinned! Grab her legs, dammit!¡±

    The aforementioned drow dropped his crossbow, rushing over to secure Autumn¡¯s flailing legs.

    Autumn¡¯s heart pounded. Fueled by fright, she fought like a wild animal against the two guards. Bucking and writhing beneath the heavy bodies, her fear grew to untold heights. Grew until she could hold it no more.

    And it turned to hate.

    With a scream of desperate, inarticulate rage, Autumn tore her wrist free of the drow¡¯s iron grasp with a sudden influx of wild strength and hammered a fist into his side, aiming for his kidney as Nethlia had taught her. A flash of light engulfed her blow just before it struck.

    The drow let out a cry of surprise and pain as Autumn¡¯s fist thundered into him, lifting him into the air to slam down beside her in a moaning heap.

    Autumn stared at her fist in shock.

    She wasn¡¯t the only one. Swearing from the other drow broke Autumn from her trance. Letting go of her legs, he scrambled across the floor towards his discarded crossbow. Still laying on the floor, Autumn snatched up her wand and sent a forceful jinx sailing after the guard, catching him in the chest and sending him skidding along the metal floor.

    A bloodied cough drew Autumn¡¯s attention. Beside her, the wounded drow struggled to get to his knees, fumbling for the dagger on his hip as he did so. Murder lay within his eyes as they locked onto the witch¡¯s dark orbs.

    Frightened, she lunged for him.

    The drow guardsman tried to dodge away, but in his haste and weakness, could only roll onto his back. He couldn¡¯t escape the witch¡¯s wrath. She seized him by the face with violet violence cascading along her palm. His screams took on a higher pitch when the blight finally took hold. Autumn gagged as her fingers sunk into necrotizing flesh.

    Just as Autumn was frantically pulling her fingers out of decaying flesh, another bolt unexpectedly slammed into her back. While it did not pierce her armor, it still sent her sprawling with a squawk. Rolling over the dying guardsman, Autumn flipped him onto his side to use him as cover, just in time to escape a barrage of bolts that thudded into her impromptu shield.

    Snarling, Autumn poked her wand over the grisly cover and sent her own barrage the crossbowman¡¯s way. A wet gurgle and a thud resounded in her ears. Looking over, she saw she¡¯d caught him in the throat with a lucky shot.

    Tiredly, Autumn slumped against the body she was using as cover.

    However, before she could even sigh in relief, another bolt scythed past her face, barely missing her eye. Crying out in pain, Autumn rolled onto her back, pointing her wand towards the doorway whence the bolt had come.

    A drow guardsman stood silhouetted in the frame, crossbow leveled hatefully towards the prone witch.

    Screaming wordlessly, Autumn fired a powerful blast towards him. Like a runaway bull, the jinx caught the drow in the chest and sent him flying backwards out into the hallway, knocking his compatriots over like bowling pins as he went. Staggering to her feet with a pained groan, Autumn lumbered her way across to the open door as quickly as she could and, with a grunt, slammed it shut. Another grunt of exertion saw a hefty deadbolt ratcheted into place, barring the door. Immediately, clanging thuds erupted as the guardsmen ineffectually pounded on the thick metal.

    Panting, Autumn rested her burning forehead against the cool metal as her legs shook like a fawn¡¯s. However, as soon as her head made contact, a line of fire ignited along the side of her face. Autumn¡¯s stomach rolled as blood dripped down her cheek like a waterfall.

    Reaching up, she tenderly touched the wound.

    While the bolt had missed her eye, it¡¯d not done so by much. Instead, it¡¯d carved a line of flesh from her brow to her hairline, passing ultimately through the top of her ear. Only a small strip of flesh kept the tip from separating completely.

    Autumn puked.

    Looking down as she wiped her mouth on her tattered sleeve, the witch grimaced at the vomit splattered across her new boots.

    ¡°Oh, come on! Can¡¯t I catch a break?!¡±

    After taking a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves, Autumn pressed the tip of her ear back in place and, with clenched teeth, grit out the words, ¡®f-flesh mending.¡±

    Once more, she felt her flesh move unnaturally. Under Autumn¡¯s continual, focused guidance, the wound closed, if agonizingly slowly. It wasn¡¯t a pleasant sensation, far from it. The necromantic based spell hadn¡¯t dulled the pain. The necromancers hadn¡¯t designed it to ¡ª obviously.

    Finally, blessedly, the spell ended.

    Autumn relaxed her white-knuckled grip from around her wand, massaging her aching joints. Feeling along the closed wound, she winced as her fingers ghosted over the long white scar running along the side of her face. Shaking off the desire to find a mirror, Autumn felt over the rest of her body for any more hidden wounds, but found naught but throbbing bruises.

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    As the adrenaline faded from Autumn¡¯s system, it did so with a whimper rather than a bang. All the aches and pains roared back into awareness. Autumn staggered at the sensation, almost falling to the floor as if her strings had been cut.

    On wobbly knees, she stumbled out of her sick and started searching for her tossed knife. After a moment of fruitless searching, ¡ª shooting an angry glare the dead guard¡¯s way for her troubles ¡ª Autumn finally found her black blade and slotted it into her vambrace sheathe.

    Looking over said guard, Autumn muttered to herself, ¡°I really need to find less gruesome ways to kill people. Or at least, less pungent ones,¡± as she covered her nose with her vomit-coated sleeve. Holding her breath, she looted the bodies. Into her belt disappeared a pair of repeater crossbows and their associated bolts alongside a liberated set of drow daggers.

    Having looted all she could ¡ª or would ¡ª Autumn backed away from the cooling bodies, seeking fresher air. Glancing down, she grimaced at the state of her attire.

    Her outfit was ruined!

    The ill-fitting, skull-embroidered necromancer robes she¡¯d clad herself in were little more than rags at this point. All the sharp bolts had carved long furrows through the black material, below which her chainmail-shirt glinted. That wasn¡¯t even mentioning all the vomit now staining it. While she could use her repair charm to fix it, Autumn didn¡¯t care enough about her disguise to muster even that inconsiderable amount of effort to do so.

    Instead, she opted to cut herself free.

    Throwing down the tattered rags, the dark-haired, dark-eyed witch adjusted her hat as she smoothed down her unveiled outfit. Only a few nicks decorated the black-iron chain-shirt. Autumn vowed to thank Nelva for making her wear it the next time she saw her.

    The continued pounding upon the barred door interrupted Autumn¡¯s thoughts.

    ¡°Oh right, that,¡± she blinked tiredly, fighting off a yawn. ¡°Focus!¡±

    Roused back to action, Autumn finally looked around the room.

    Dull metal walls lit only by faint lantern light greeted her curious eyes. Aside from the hallway Autumn had entered from, the rest of the floor was taken up by the winch-house. A series of thin arrow-slits equidistantly dotted the walls, overlooking the surrounding city, river, and outskirts. In the center of the room sat the winch ¡ª a large, archaic-looking machine covered in strange levers and switches that Autumn had no clue what they did. Glancing further around, Autumn spied a metal rung ladder embedded into the far wall leading up to a hatch built into the ceiling, likely opening out on the roof, if she had to guess.

    Hobbling over to the window facing the river, Autumn looked out towards the far tower and the chain strung between the two.

    While it hadn¡¯t looked small from a distance, Autumn hadn¡¯t really appreciated the sheer scale of the chain until now. Each link was twice as wide as she was! If she wanted to, she could¡¯ve walked across it to the other side. Not that she dared to.

    While squinting at the tower opposite, Autumn felt the brain-worm spell ¡ª she still hated the name ¡ª that she left in Liddie¡¯s mind within the opposing winch-house. Closing her eyes, she reached out, sending a message to her party¡¯s swashbuckling rogue.

    [Autumn here,] she sent. [Have you cleared your room? And, do you have eyes on your winch?]

    There was a brief, tense pause before Liddie¡¯s voice bloomed in Autumn¡¯s mind.

    [Geez, you frightened me. Here I was, minding my own business, then ¡ª wham ¡ª witch in the brain.]

    [Focus.]

    [Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t get your witch-panties in a bunch. I cleared out my room ages ago. Tower too. Might¡¯ve left a bit of a mess. Anyway, I see the winch just fine. Big ol¡¯ thing it is. How about you? Are you doing fine? You sound tired.]

    [I¡¯m fine,] Autumn snapped, not fine. [I just want to get this over with and get out of here. Do you know how to operate this thing?]

    Liddie somehow snickered across the line. [Sure. While I don¡¯t recognize the design, I recognize the function. They make these things pretty idiot-proof, you know? Ok, so, what you need to do is just flip the master switch towards the side facing the water at the same time as I do. Then the chain will lower. If we mess up the timing, the chain will stall. Think you can time us down?]

    [¡­which one¡¯s the master switch?]

    [The big one in the center. You¡¯ll see it.]

    Sure enough, when Autumn eventually stumbled her way back to the machine, she saw a heavy switch, front and center. It looked like the ones from old movies, where someone would scream ¡®it¡¯s alive!¡¯ after flipping it. She was half expecting sparks to fly when she did so.

    Shaking off her meandering thoughts, Autumn grasped the handle of the master switch and sent another message down the link to Liddie.

    [Alright, we go on three. One. Two. Three!]

    Timing it just right, Autumn flipped the switch just as Liddie did hers. It chunked into place. After a beat of silence, in which Autumn thought she¡¯d messed up, the winch rumbled to life and started lowering the river chain. Rushing over to the window, Autumn glanced out, scanning the river for her party. In the distance, she saw a bone-white craft making its way towards the city¡¯s exit atop the crimson water. Despite the distance, she could just make out the sight of magic and arrows splashing about the craft. The sight made Autumn¡¯s heart leap into her throat.

    Autumn started when another message barged into her brain.

    [Alright,] Liddie drawled, [I¡¯m going to climb down the outside of the tower and make my way¡­upriver?¡­downriver?¡­Either way, I¡¯ll take care of anyone who follows us.]

    [Ok, I¡¯ll start heading down as well. Good luck and see you on the other side.]

    [May luck be with you as well.]

    As the ¡®call¡¯ ended, Autumn slumped against the rumbling winch, feeling it rattle her bones. She was exhausted. Every time she closed her eyes, it took more and more effort to open them again. Even now, it took an age. Yet she couldn¡¯t falter. Not yet.

    Spurning slumber¡¯s call, the dark-eyed witch made her way tiredly over to the deepest, darkest shadow she could find. There, she crouched down, groaning as her knees complained and rested a hand against the blackness.

    Indistinct yelling grew beyond the door.

    Sat before a shadow, Autumn sluggishly recalled her ritual. Blood beading on her fingertip.

    While the black water would see her down the tower, she felt trepidatious about doing so. Not before she thought there was something lurking in the black ¡ª and wasn¡¯t that a terrifying thought ¡ª but more in so that she might get lost in that lightless void. If she swam down deep enough, she didn¡¯t know if she could find her way back up.

    Shaking those dark thoughts away, Autumn readied to cast her ritual.

    Suddenly, a bright flash of silvery light lit up the darksome room. Accompanying it came a deafening roar, rocking the tower as a thunderous force slammed into the barricaded door. Autumn cried out as she tumbled to the floor. Another ponderous blow collided with the door, causing the heavy deadbolt keeping it in place to let out a torturous scream as it bent.

    For a moment, Autumn stared blankly at the door.

    Her eyes snapped over to the rumbling winch. It¡¯d not been enough time yet for it to lower completely, or for her friends to escape the city. If the door gave way now¡­

    Autumn cursed her luck. Pushing through her exhaustion, she crawled on hands and knees over towards the rumbling winch even as the tower continued to shake around her. Behind her, the thunderous blows wrenched the door open inch by shrieking inch. Arriving at the medieval machine, Autumn stared blankly at it. Realizing she had no clue how to sabotage it with her meager strength, her eyes drifted over to the thick chain slowly exiting the tower.

    Perhaps she only needed to sabotage a single link?

    Crawling over towards the wall, Autumn stretched her hand through the grating there to lay her hand upon the chain as it drifted slowly by. Closing her eyes, the witch concentrated on the idea of banishment. She recalled the sensation of the time she¡¯d banished the undead elemental ¡ª albeit with the aid of a banishment scroll.

    Funnily enough, that time had been in a tower as well.

    Slowly, Autumn breathed out and cried, ¡°Begone!¡±

    And the darkness took her.

 Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: Run, Run, as Fast as You Can

    From the dark fog rose a dream. Or was it a memory? A recollection of some better place. Some better time.

    In it, a young Autumn lay in her bed, covers tucked up to her chin as a shadow figure loomed over her, storybook in hand. Nothing else could be seen beyond the endless darkness. Like oil, it clung to the edges of the spotlight of fascination.

    Slowly, quietly, the shadowy narrator opened their horror story and read. ¡°¡®Where do you hide, little bunny?¡¯ the wicked wolf asked with gnashing teeth. Through the burrow, he did prowl. The little bunny¡¯s heart beat oh so loudly in their little bunny chest. ¡®Where have you hopped to? You cannot run forever,¡¯ snarled the wolf.¡±

    In her bed, a wide-eyed Autumn pulled her blanket higher, trying to block out the twisted cadence as the words scratched themselves into her brain. Black shadows danced along the walls in a mockery of life, reenacting the terrifying plot.

    ¡°¡®Where are you?¡¯ roared the wolf, sniffing the air. ¡®I will find you! I will eat you!¡±

    The shadowy room shook.

    ¡°COME OUT, LITTLE BUNNY!!! I¡¯LLEATYOURMORTALFLESH!!! IKNOWYOU¡¯REHEREWITCH!¡±

    Autumn awoke with a gasp.

    Pain flooded her mind ¡ª spikes of agony pounded into her skull by the beat of nightmarish songs. She dry-heaved as nausea flooded her system. Grasping at her pained skull, Autumn let out a keening whine as she tried to drive the torment out with her pale fingers. Alas, it was of no use. All she could do was curl into herself and wait for the pain to pass.

    Blood streamed down her nose like a crimson waterfall, staining her bitten lips with the taste of copper. Tears carved down her grimy cheeks as the pain continued. When she wiped at them, Autumn¡¯s hands came away red.

    Like a broken mirror, Autumn¡¯s thoughts were fragmented and disjointed. She felt dizzy. Lost.

    Slowly, her suffering eased, and her mind grew clearer.

    Groaning as she lay on the cold metal floor, Autumn pried her aching eyes open, wincing as the light stabbed into them. Even the soft light in the darksome chamber felt like knives were being driven into her sockets.

    Not long had passed since she¡¯d lost unconsciousness ¡ª the door still held, at the very least. Not by much, but it held.

    Autumn staggered to her feet and, as her hearing recovered, she heard a dull roar coming in from the riverside of the tower. Making her way over to the noise, she caught herself on the wall and peeked out of the narrow window. There she saw what she¡¯d wrought.

    The sudden descent of the titanic chain had sent a geyser of bloody water soaring heavenward. It came down upon the city like an apocalyptic rain while monstrous waves battered the docked ships, splintering them against their berths. Autumn¡¯s breath caught in her throat as the roaring waves crashed down upon her party.

    For a tense moment, she didn¡¯t dare to breathe.

    Suddenly, a pair of shadowy, skeletal steeds broke through the turbulent surf like legendary hippocampi, dragging a waterlogged dragon-bone vessel in their wake. A torrent of red water sluiced off the bones back into the grim river it¡¯d come from. Autumn breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting her bedraggled friends still clinging to the craft.

    Slinking away from the window, she tried to marshal her disjointed thoughts into some semblance of order, yet they kept slipping away from her like fog through her fingers. A sudden pulse of agony sent her stumbling into the now stalled winch. As she caught herself on it, Autumn hissed in pain through clenched teeth.

    Before she could rally herself, a bright flash of silver light illuminated the room once more.

    Autumn cried out in pain at the sight.

    Thunder drowned out her lamentations. A scream of tortured metal filled the air as the magical force roared into the metal door, further twisting it and the deadbolt still keeping it in place. The dark tower rocked with the thunderous force, sending Autumn sprawling to the ground. From behind the battered barricade came angry, encouraged shouting, spurring the downed witch into action.

    ¡°Fuck me!¡± Autumn swore as she scrambled across the floor towards the shadows. Upon reaching the gloom, she paused, face scrunched up in furious thought.

    She couldn¡¯t remember. Obscured by the haze of pain, the ritual eluded her and the black at her feet remained firm.

    Thunder rocked the room once more.

    Fright built up in Autumn¡¯s breast.

    ¡°Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Come on! Come on!¡± Autumn panted hoarsely as she panicked. Beating on her head to dislodge something, she screamed, ¡°You can do it, Autumn! You just need to fucking think!¡±

    Naught was her reward, but a fresh headache for such self-directed violence.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± Autumn swore again. Frantically, her eyes around the room searching for another way out, eventually falling upon the metal rungs embedded into the far wall. Hope bloomed in her chest as she hurried over to it, practically falling into it as she tripped over her weary feet. Grasping onto the thick steel, the flagging witch hauled her exhausted body up the rungs.

    Just as she neared halfway up, metal screamed from below.

    Autumn yelped as she almost fell from the ladder as the tower shuddered. Clinging tightly to the rungs, she chanced a glance below. The battered door wasn¡¯t long for this world. One more mighty blow and the deadbolt would give way. Looking back up at how far she still had to go, Autumn shuddered.

    She couldn¡¯t risk being caught on it by the furious guards that were soon to storm the chamber.

    Biting her lip, Autumn withdrew a pilfered dagger from her belt and held it loosely in her hand. With her mind fogged by pain, she found it hard to concentrate and cast her dread magic like she usually did. That didn¡¯t mean she couldn¡¯t cast, however. It just meant her methods were far less refined.

    Autumn drew the lead-like feeling from her breast and channeled down into the drow blade until it was vibrating threateningly in her grasp. Bracing herself against the metal rungs, she waited, poised to throw.

    The silence was deafening.

    A horrific shriek split the air as the deadbolt finally gave way, torn in two as the titanic magical force ripped the door from its hinges and sent it crashing into the room with a terrifying boom. Behind the shattered door came the drow guardsmen, their deadly crossbows armed and ready as they flowed into the dark chamber.

    Quietly, Autumn tossed the violently glowing dagger before hurriedly scrambling up the ladder.

    The guardsmen snapped towards the sound of the dagger clattering at their feet. Their pale eyes widened just as the unstable blade exploded into a cloud of sharp fragments. Screams of agony ripped free of bloodied throats as they fell.

    A hot knife of pain lanced into Autumn¡¯s leg as a shard of the fragmented blade tore through the meat of her calf. It burned like fire. The agony of it almost made her black out. Yet, she persevered. Gritting her teeth, Autumn continued her climb with tears of blood carving tracks down her cheeks.

    Below her, the guardsmen screamed and cried for their fathers.

    Pussies, Autumn thought. It was just one little grenade.

    Autumn reached the hatch before anyone below had recovered from her parting gift. Thankfully, it was unlocked. Grunting with effort, Autumn pressed the hatch open with her shoulder and squeaked through the gap, letting the hatch slam closed behind her.

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Laying on her back, Autumn whimpered. ¡°Fuck-pant-this-pant-shit. Aren¡¯t I supposed to be a wimpy mage? Why the hell did I choose to do this frontline shit?! Oh, right ¡ª stealth. So much for that.¡±

    Autumn winced as she jostled her wounded leg. Not willing to risk using her ¡°healing¡± spell with her magic as tumultuous as it was, Autumn instead plucked the emergency healing potion Pyre had foisted upon her before leaving and carefully splashing it across the wound. After making sure there wasn¡¯t any metal left in the wound, of course.

    It was a distinctively strange feeling, Autumn decided. Feeling your body rapidly fix itself without your input nor any pain.

    Feeling oddly put out, Autumn vowed to learn how to add some sort of anesthetic to her own spell¡­later. Much later. And with someone else ¡°volunteering¡± to help her.

    Why did that sound so villainous?

    An aborted snort of laughter escaped Autumn. Aborted as it swiftly turned into hacked coughing.

    Groaning to herself, Autumn stared up at the gemstone archway looming high above her. Fell-bats swooped hither and thither across her vision, screeching as they went. Other such dark and fantastical creatures skittered about and across the hanging flora and structures clinging to the archway.

    As high up as she was, Autumn could almost forget she was in such a grim, horrid city and just take a moment to admire the strange beauty of the Feydark. She lay there, watching quietly as the soft bioluminescent glow glittered across the gemstone corpse that¡¯d once been a mountain-sized elemental creature.

    Of course, her brief moment of peace couldn¡¯t last. It ended with the furious sounds of someone storming up the ladder after the fleeing witch.

    Cursing, Autumn rolled to her feet. While the healing potion had closed the wound on her leg, it¡¯d done nothing for her exhaustion, nor for the myriad of bruises she¡¯d collected since she¡¯d only applied it to her wounded leg.

    Now on firm footing, the dark and bleary-eyed witch looked about the rooftop which she¡¯d climbed to.

    Rather than saying it was a rooftop, it was more of a narrow balcony running around the lip of a menacing spire, many, many hundreds of feet above the sprawling city lying far below. A sheer, terrifying drop loomed beyond the imposingly sharp crenellations. Only the three sisters ¡ª the trio of gigantic pillar like constructions that connected up to the gemstone arch ¡ª were higher than the tower upon which Autumn stood.

    In the grim city, bright fires raged, still roaring despite the city¡¯s defenders¡¯ best efforts. Autumn doubted they¡¯d burn down the entire city, but the longer they kept the drow busy, the better chance she and the escaping slaves had of, well, escaping.

    Speaking of which. Autumn felt a savage satisfaction as she witnessed the giant she¡¯d freed tearing through the city on their way northward towards the city''s gate with a gaggle of armed slaves following in its destructive wake. She wished them all the best.

    Turning away from the city, Autumn limped her way past a scattering of wooden tables and discarded chairs towards the riverside portion of the battlements. Playing cards and half-filled tankards still littered the tables. Autumn was half tempted to down a mug to soothe her raw throat, but didn¡¯t want to risk whatever germs she might pick up.

    A funny thing to think about while running for your life. Again.

    Was she making a habit of it?

    Catching herself on the riverside crenellations, Autumn glanced over them to the river residing far, far below. She felt her stomach drop away.

    ¡°Am I really doing this?¡± Autumn muttered to herself in disbelief as she stared.

    Searching the crimson river, she spotted a spick of white bobbing its way towards the river at a rather rapid pace. If she delayed too long, she¡¯d miss them and have to swim after her party.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that be embarrassing,¡± Autumn chuckled to herself mirthlessly.

    Just as she started to clamber carefully over the sharp battlements ¡ª honestly, who makes sharp battlements! ¡ª the hatch boomed open behind Autumn. Spinning hurriedly around, she instinctively raised her shield as a flash of silvery magic rocketed towards her. However, with her magical control currently in flux, the usually smooth surface of her magical protection roiled like a particularly turbulent ocean.

    When the silvery light hit the fluctuating shield, it popped it like a soap-bubble.

    Autumn crashed backwards into the crenellations, gasping in pain as the impact drove the air from her lungs. As she slid bonelessly to the ground, she was pretty sure she felt a rib shift.

    Looking up from her slumped position as she sucked in a series of rapid breaths, Autumn took in the sight of her assailant as they loomed over her, only a couple dozen steps away.

    ¡°Holy fuck! What happened to you?!¡± Autumn choked out in surprise.

    Gone was the once beautiful visage of the drow mage. Half her face was a mess of decayed flesh and pus. Goopy tears ran down from a yellowed, cloudy eye. All the hair on that side of her head had either fallen out or remained in disparate clumps. Her cheek had sunken it, now pressed up against rotten teeth.

    At Autumn¡¯s callous words, the other half of her face twisted into a rictus of pure hate. ¡°YOU!¡± she snarled, spittle flying from her cracked lips.

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Oh. Right. That. I remember now. Call it a draw?¡± she gestured to her limp position.

    A wordless cry of rage was her reply, alongside a silvery blast of lightning. It sizzled and sparked along the metal as it snaked viciously towards the slumped witch.

    Autumn rolled out of the way of the lightning bolt, letting out a yelp as a tendril zapped her when it splashed across the crenellations. Groaning, she clutched at her side as she staggered to her feet. ¡°Yep. I definitely broke a rib.¡±

    Steadying her feet, the dread witch leveled her wand towards the drow mage with shaking hands.

    ¡°Hey, two-face. I was serious about that truce. I¡¯ve had a helluva day. How about we call this a wash?¡±

    The crenellations cracked beside Autumn as she spun out of the way of another silvery magical blast.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to strip the flesh from your bones for what you did, human!¡± the drow mage roared.

    ¡°Charming.¡±

    As she sent her violet jinxes the drow¡¯s way, Autumn couldn¡¯t help but curse herself. While her head had cleared up somewhat, the buzzing within hadn¡¯t ceased, and as such, she couldn¡¯t focus. Couldn¡¯t pull her spells together into any sort of order. They were worse than when she first picked up Witch Augus¡¯ old wand.

    Autumn let out a snarl of frustration as her forceful jinx dissolved midair, falling apart without its magical structure.

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want to call it quits? Get that face looked at, maybe?¡±

    ¡°DIE!!!¡± the drow screamed, unleashing another lightning bolt zipping towards the witch.

    Unable to dodge fully in time, the bolt caught Autumn in the shoulder. She let out a shrill scream as the lightning seared into her. The force sent her spinning to the ground, twitching with every spark.

    The drow mage stormed closer.

    Panting on the ground, Autumn¡¯s face twisted in anger. ¡°Fine!¡± she screamed. ¡°Fine, you want it, you got it! Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you, you fucking purple cunt!¡±

    Sneering at her words, the drow mage lifted her staff to strike down the foul-mouthed, pretentious witch.

    Autumn wasn¡¯t exactly bluffing. Once before, when she was facing the undead angel, she¡¯d cast a blast of pure force in her desperation. She thought perhaps she could do so now. Unstoppering the metaphorical plug-slash-tap that kept her stored fear within her hat, she now let it run wild, trying only to guide it to where it needed to go. The raw power coursed riotously through Autumn¡¯s body and if she thought she was in pain before, this was on a whole other level.

    Gasping, Autumn pushed the wild magic down towards her wand. Upon coming into contact with the chaotic magic, the angel-dragon wand drank greedily, devouring the essence.

    As the drow¡¯s staff glowed with a silver light, Autumn snapped her wand up and unleashed the torrent of magic towards her. This close to one another, she couldn¡¯t miss.

    The drow only had a single breath to widen her remaining good eye. ¡°Wai¡ª¡± she cried before the veritable tide of unholy dragon¡¯s breath engulfed her. A thunderous explosion erupted where she stood, kicking up a column of smoke. When it cleared, there was a massive hole in the spire¡¯s side. Of the drow mage, there was no sight. Whether the explosion had rendered her to dust or just cast her down into the tower, it was hard to tell.

    Harder still when it felt like molten metal filled Autumn¡¯s veins, and there was a thin silvery lance speared through her gut.

    In her last ¡ª alleged ¡ª moments, the drow mage had gotten off a parting spell.

    ¡°Not this shit again,¡± Autumn moaned.

    Thankfully, the shaft of light dissipated. Not so thankfully, it left behind a thin hole straight through her lower abdomen.

    ¡°At least I¡¯m not paralyzed this time,¡± Autumn chuckled weakly as she wiggled her toes.

    Tiredly picking herself off the ground, she dragged herself over to the crenellations, leaving a line of red behind her. After tucking her wand away, Autumn clambered over the battlements once more, this time uncaring as they cut her hands.

    Autumn stared down at the red river below and the speck of white bobbing along waiting for her. Opening her aching jaw, she summed up her feelings for the whole endeavor.

    ¡°I¡¯m so done with this shit.¡±

    Letting go, she tipped forwards and fell towards a river once more.

    As the wind whipped through her hair, unsuccessfully trying to steal her hat, the exhausted, bloodied, and frankly just done, witch closed her eyes.

    A grinning skull stared back at her.

    Death blinked in confusion, squinting at Autumn as she fell. Grumbling, he rummaged about in his robes, eventually pulling out an hourglass of white sand. While she couldn¡¯t tell how much sand was on either side, Autumn still read her name etched into the side.

    The penmanship was impeccable.

    After tapping on the hourglass a few times, the ferryman looked satisfied and returned it to his cloak. He looked back at Autumn and spoke in his familiar, haunting drawl.

    ¡°You¡¯re early.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Twelve: Dreaming with Death

    When Autumn opened her eyes, she found herself in a dream. A dream of blue waters and twisting shores.

    Upon the banks of the Feywild, the River Styx crashed, its waters boiling and churning with unlife. The innumerable dead clawed at the prowl of the Ferryman¡¯s craft, reaching for the mortal who¡¯d appeared before them again, even if only in a dream. Further down the winding river, the shoreline changed, transitioning from the twining, strange flora of the Fey to a shadowy, ghoulish realm of undeath. Wispy shades of negative energy pulled at Autumn¡¯s necromantic knowledge.

    Although the land of darkness and undeath drew her curiosity, Autumn turned away to glance behind her to where the boat¡¯s captain stood. Clad tall in a tattered, black robe loomed the skeletal visage of the Ferryman.

    Many names was he known, but to Autumn, she knew him as Death.

    A bleached-white skull grinned down upon the sitting witch as he gently guided the ferry further down the blue river of death.

    ¡°You know, many would consider meeting me prior to their deigned death a legendary feat or an omen both. Doing so twice, one might regard it as a concerning habit.¡± Death lifted a bony brow as he gazed at a shamefaced Autumn. ¡°Perhaps you might entertain a less dangerous hobby. Not that I don¡¯t enjoy the company.¡±

    Autumn shuffled nervously as she sat on the ancient bench. Between her feet, the boards creaked ominously. ¡°It¡¯s not like I was trying to get hurt or anything. I just got into a little trouble, is all. And the first time totally wasn¡¯t my fault!¡±

    ¡°Uh-huh,¡± Death drawled, his resonant voice filled with disbelief to match the doubtful look he leveled upon the witch.

    In her weathered seat, Autumn blushed. ¡°Nevermind that! What exactly do you mean by saying I¡¯m early?¡±

    ¡°I mean only that which I say. No more, no less.¡± Death shrugged as he turned his attention back to the river. The black robes flowed like the blackest night across his skeletal frame. Seeing Autumn¡¯s look of annoyance out of the corner of his eye, he elaborated with a smile. ¡°You hath arrived ere your time. I see the ends of all, gods and mortals both, and this is not yours. And no, I shall not tell you of such. No good shall come of it.¡±

    ¡°Why not?¡± Autumn tried not to whine. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t it be better if I knew? I could¡­could prepare better or something!¡±

    Death smiled sadly. ¡°No, it wouldn¡¯t be better if you knew. I have seen what befalls those cursed with such knowledge. Trust me on this. Oft it is those around the reckless that suffer in their stead. Nor is death the worst of fates. I would not wish such a cursed existence upon you.¡±

    Sulkily, Autumn turned away from the Ferryman. Placing her elbow on the boat¡¯s railing, she rested her cheek on her fist and stared glumly out over the blue towards the Feywild as it drifted by. Hundreds of tiny fairies and pixies darted amongst bright flowers blooming in shining sunlight.

    What a truly dangerously beautiful place, Autumn thought.

    Behind her, Death said nothing. Her actions had not offended him. He was content to let her gather her thoughts in sullen silence.

    Autumn eventually let out a sigh and glanced back at the Ferryman. ¡°Sorry for snapping at you,¡± she apologized.

    Death gifted her a smile. ¡°It¡¯s quite ok. I know you have a lot going on, and I don¡¯t mind the silence. You could say I¡¯m used to it.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s no excuse,¡± Autumn argued. ¡°You didn¡¯t deserve that.¡±

    ¡°As I said, I don¡¯t mind. Complain all you like. Ask what you will. If I had an ear, I¡¯d lend it to you.¡±

    Autumn stifled a smile. ¡°If you can¡¯t tell me when I¡¯ll die, can you at least tell me if I¡¯ll succeed in my task? In killing the hag ¡ª Mildred the Finger-Eater? You do know about that, right? Can you see when she¡¯ll die?¡±

    Death hummed. ¡°I know of your plight. However, I cannot tell you.¡± At Autumn''s sullen look, he elaborated. ¡°Not that I will not, but that I cannot. While it is true I see the end of all things, what comes before isn¡¯t within my purview. Nor would I wish it to be. How boring an existence it¡¯d be to know all, see all. I much prefer to see how the stories unfold towards the ends I see.¡±

    ¡°So what? We¡¯re all just stories,¡± Autumn huffed.

    ¡°A story, yes, but not just,¡± Death chuckled, not minding her impertinence. For a moment he hummed, the sound a dirge. ¡°You must understand, I am old. Older than gods. Older than time and the universe both. I was ancient when those ideas were first crafted. I have seen all stories play out many, many times over. Both the good and the bad. What you see as free will, I see as a familiar well-worn path.¡±

    ¡°Even this? Us talking?¡± Autumn asked, her curiosity plain on her face.

    Death laughed. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, this is a first. Few heroes are so bold when talking with me.¡±

    Autumn blushed.

    ¡°It¡¯s nice.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn shyly muttered in agreement. With how genial he was, it was hard for her to remember this was death itself. Still, she mustered the courage to further ask. ¡°So we¡¯re just all marching preordained paths? Is there a point to it all? To anything? Do my choices matter, or am I just playing a part?¡±

    ¡°Of course your choices matter. As do you,¡± Death reassured Autumn. ¡°Just because your path has been treaded before, doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s not worth walking.¡±

    Death paused. Turning his bony visage away, he glanced over the waters, lost deep in thought. For a quiet moment, all Autumn heard was the sound of the boat cutting through the water and the sullen screams of lost souls. Eventually, Death continued.

    ¡°None can control your actions. Not the Fates nor the so-called-immortals who¡¯d meddle in your journey.¡±

    ¡°Meddle? What meddling? Who¡¯s meddled with me?¡±

    ¡°Look now, Autumn. We pass by Inmortui, the realm of undeath.¡±

    Following Death¡¯s gaze, Autumn looked upon shores of undeath. Endless armies of rotting ghouls, chattering skeletons, and terrifying abominations stretched out to a horizon dominated by thousands upon thousands of shattered towers and broken fortresses beneath a sunless sky. Ghosts and ghasts swirled through inky clouds of negative energies high above. As she looked towards that darksome realm, thousands of sunken eyes glared back.

    Nervously, Autumn turned back to Death and repeated her question. ¡°What meddling?¡±

    Death sighed. ¡°Before you ever stepped foot on distant shores, Witch Augus foresaw the ascension of the hag you hunt and conspired with the fairy king to end her ambitions in the cradle. A war between the hag and the Summer Court, they did scheme. To mire her in an endless war that¡¯d deny her the godhood she craved. By dangling the Tome of Witchcraft before her ravenous eyes, it was easy enough for them to lure the hag into their trap. You were just a vector for their goals.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s thoughts were spinning wildly. ¡°I-I don¡¯t understand. What are you trying to say?¡±

    ¡°You have no destiny to kill the hag,¡± Death said happily.

    Autumn blinked in confusion. ¡°Umm, ok? I never assumed so, but why are you so happy about that?¡±

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Because you are ordinary! Oh, don¡¯t frown so, young woman. You should rejoice in your normality! Far too often, grand stories such as yours are about Demi-gods, beings literally born to greatness. It is ever so boring. While their trials might be great, so too are their innate gifts. Harsh as it is to say, you share not in their grand gifts. But! I find you far more interesting for it.¡±

    ¡°If I¡¯m so ungifted, why did they pick me then?¡± Autumn snarked.

    Death rolled his non-existence eyes. ¡°I never said you were ungifted, Autumn, just not so as birthed legends. They chose you by virtue of name. Perhaps in another life, a girl named after summer might¡¯ve taken your place. Less so for spring, and there is a reason mothers dare not name their children after the winter season.¡±

    Autumn slumped in her seat. ¡°I knew it was because of my name, but it being the only reason? Just because of that? Does luck hate me or something?¡±

    ¡°I doubt she cares. Although we aren¡¯t on speaking terms anymore.¡±

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°She cheats at poker,¡± Death said with a scowl.

    Autumn snorted. ¡°It¡¯d still be nice if she could give me a break once in a while.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t hold your breath. She¡¯s a fickle, vengeful bitch.¡±

    A burst of laughter escaped Autumn. Death too chuckled at the sound. ¡°You don¡¯t need the gods¡¯ help, anyway. I have faith you¡¯ll do well.¡±

    Autumn blushed.

    Taking a moment to settle her thoughts, Autumn chewed over her words. Eventually she turned to gaze up at Death with a nervous seriousness. ¡°Why do you care?¡±

    Death turned to look Autumn in the eye, raising a boney brow at her question. ¡°Why do I care?¡± he asked.

    ¡°Yeah?¡± Autumn asked as she picked at the rotten wood beneath her fingertips. ¡°You¡¯re¡­well¡­you. Death. Why are you helping me?¡±

    ¡°Can I not?¡±

    ¡°You can,¡± Autumn ventured. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why. Like you said, I¡¯m just a mortal girl. No one interesting.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t I just say you were?¡± Death sighed. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, I did and do have an ulterior motive besides just wanting to. I dislike it when those insolent so-called-immortals meddle in my affairs. Them using my river in their designs is a step too far. It is not some plaything to be used in spiteful games.¡±

    Death¡¯s face was stormy as he spoke, practically spitting the word playthings. Autumn shuddered as the air grew colder, clammier. The souls within the Styx quietened as Death stewed.

    ¡°All must die,¡± he continued. ¡°Some, just sooner than others. If they wish to use the hag¡¯s endless war to further their own gains, they have another thing coming, don¡¯t they?¡± Death grinned down at Autumn.

    Autumn smiled cautiously back.

    Slowly, as the lands of undeath passed her by, Autumn contemplated Death¡¯s words. A curious thought congealed within her mind and wouldn¡¯t leave till she voiced it.

    ¡°Um, Death? What¡¯ll happen in the end end? Will you die when all else is dust?¡±

    Death laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t be silly. I¡¯ll just wait for it all to start back up again. It¡¯s done so before.¡± At Autumn¡¯s owlish look, he winked. ¡°Heavy stuff, I know. The universe never seems content to be empty.¡±

    The pair fell into a comfortable silence.

    As Autumn internalized her latest mind-bending revelation, she cast her gaze across the waters, taking in the shores of undeath and the many undead glaring back at her.

    ¡°Umm, you don¡¯t have a problem with necromancy, right? A-asking for a friend.¡±

    Death blinked before he let out a good-natured chuckle. ¡°Oh, no. You¡¯re fine learning that school of magic, unless you mess around with souls. Using them is fine, but if you start warping and twisting them?¡± He looked at Autumn seriously. ¡°Don¡¯t. I¡¯ll have to intervene if you do. You don¡¯t want me to intervene.¡±

    Autumn gulped as she hurriedly nodded. ¡°Message received! No soul-warping for me! No, sir!¡±

    ¡°Good,¡± Death nodded.

    Autumn breathed a sigh of relief as Death turned away, looking back forward. A less comfortable silence fell upon the pair.

    After a while, Death broke the quiet. ¡°Are you eating well?¡± he asked.

    The sudden question caused Autumn to startle. ¡°Umm, not really? We ¡ª that is my party and I ¡ª got ourselves in a place where there wasn¡¯t much safe food available. I¡¯ve lost a bit of weight. On the plus side, I got to eat a dragon. Silver linings and all that, right?¡±

    ¡°I suppose. You really should take care of yourself better. If you get the chance, make sure you learn the spell; create food and water, or something similar. Most spell-makers ought to sell it. Also, the Tome of Witchcraft should have it in it.¡±

    Autumn perked up. ¡°So you''re saying I¡¯ll get it back?¡±

    Death gave Autumn a dry look. ¡°It¡¯s possible, but whether you do is up to you.¡±

    Sulking, Autumn cast her gaze forward. There she saw the dark shores give way to a sea of clouds. A massive moon loomed over the white, rolling horizon. Grand, yet comforting. Mile high trees rose from isolated islands dotted amongst the curling clouds while giant creatures of dreams swam through its depths. Bellowing whales and glowing fish darted through the cloudy shallows, filling the air with their calls. As Autumn watched, fantastical castles rose out of the clouds high into the starry sky.

    ¡°¨®neira. The sea of dreams,¡± Death said. ¡°Your destination, I believe.¡±

    ¡°It is?¡± Autumn asked.

    Death just nodded as he guided them further down the river, steering them towards a dock where a large and ornate silvery gate loomed.

    As she watched the strange realm of dreams, Autumn¡¯s thoughts drifted to the unnatural screaming she¡¯d heard when her overuse of magic had knocked her unconscious. When she told Death about it, he hummed for a while before answering.

    ¡°It was likely a Dreameater. A spectral creature drawn to feast upon life through dreams, hence the name. Your banshee friend¡¯s presence likely keeps them at bay, but the closer you get to the hag¡¯s domain, the more you¡¯ll encounter. There ought to be some protections within your pilfered spell-book, as Necromancers were known to engage with such creatures.¡±

    Death turned to look back down at Autumn. ¡°How are you doing, by the way? I never asked.¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Alright, I suppose, given the circumstances.¡±

    ¡°How about your friends? Are you getting along with them?¡±

    Sullenly, Autumn turned away from Death¡¯s gaze, picking awkwardly at the wood once more. ¡°Yes? No? I don¡¯t know. Am I even worth being friends with?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? What do you mean?¡± Death asked curiously.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯ve¡­I¡¯ve been lying to them, I guess,¡± Autumn confessed. At Death¡¯s encouraging look, she continued. ¡°About where I¡¯ve come from. Who I am. At first¡­at first, I lied because I wasn¡¯t sure whether they hated outsiders, ¡ª you know, beings from other worlds ¡ª but after a while, it just became easier to keep lying. Or at least, omitting the truth.¡±

    Teary-eyed, Autumn aggressively pulled a splinter from the boat¡¯s railing. Awkwardly, she hid it in her palm before death could notice. Looking back towards the robe-clad figure, she asked, ¡°is someone like that even worth being friends with? Maybe I¡¯d be better off alone.¡±

    Quietly, Death spoke. ¡°I do not believe that, and I think neither do you. I know it is hard to admit your mistakes or to admit lying to those you care about, but let me ask you this; when was the last time you took the easier path?¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± Autumn sniffed.

    ¡°Think back. Did you not tell the truth rather than lure those adventurers to their doom against the hag?¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°You know about that?¡±

    Death nodded. ¡°I do. I also saw how you chose to pursue the hag rather than take the easy road and retreat with those other adventurers. So then, tell me this, why would this be any harder?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. It just is, I guess?¡±

    ¡°But you will tell them?¡± Death urged.

    Autumn sighed before steeling herself. ¡°I guess? I mean, I will! It¡¯s¡­It¡¯s not fair to them. All of them. After what they¡¯ve done for me, it¡¯s the least I can do for them. But,¡± Autumn slumped in her seat, ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know if they¡¯ll understand. Am I just a coward?¡±

    ¡°You are not,¡± Death reassured her. ¡°You just need to have faith in your friends. They¡¯ve stuck with you so far, haven¡¯t they? Trust that they¡¯ll stick with you a moment longer. Either way, this is your stop,¡± he said, gesturing to the dream-dock they clacked up against.

    Autumn quickly alighted from Death¡¯s ferry, stepping carefully so as to not fall into the river again.

    ¡°Hey! How come I didn¡¯t get any special power from the river as Achilles did?!¡±

    Death laughed uproariously. ¡°You did! I made sure of it. You think you could have survived swimming in it without it? Fear not spells of instant death ¡ª they shall be like water off your back!¡±

    Slowly, Death pushed his boat away from the shore, heading out deeper into the river. Behind Autumn, the dreaming gates creaked open with the sounds of a lullaby. Autumn¡¯s eyes grew heavy at the sound. Yawning, she waved Death goodbye.

    ¡°One last thing!¡± Death called back as he drifted away. ¡°Talk with your friends, Autumn, for you never know when a moment of peace will be your last!¡±

    ¡°Well, that was ominous,¡± Autumn murmured as she yawned.

    Turning around, she made her way through the dreaming gates and ventured into her dreams beyond. What they entailed would swiftly slip from her mind when she finally awoke, but for now, she simply enjoyed them. If they contained a certain red-skinned barbarian and a minx of a catgirl, well, who could say?

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: Confessions by a Riverside Encampment

    Slowly, almost painfully, Autumn awoke. For a moment, she lay beneath the warmth of the blankets swaddling her, allowing the trappings of existence to wash over her. Her eyes stung, weighted down like lead. Pleasant dreams fled before the witch¡¯s waking ire, leaving her with only the memories of Death.

    With an irritated sigh, Autumn struggled to open her eyes, wincing at the effort. A dull throb of pain invaded her senses as her eyes adjusted to a dim light.

    When her sleep-addled eyes finally adjusted to the soft light, an unfamiliar purple canvas ceiling greeted her. Raising herself up on her elbow, Autumn let her blankets slide down her naked chest to pool about her bandaged waist and glanced around the tent. Other than her things, which rested beside her in a neat pile, the small purple tent was fairly empty.

    As she was looking around, something itched in her palm. Raising her clenched fist up and turning it over, Autumn saw a familiar splinter of the oldest boat lying within.

    ¡°Whoops,¡± Autumn said nervously.

    After glancing around furtively, Autumn pinched the dark splinter between her fingertips and turned it over in the light, inspecting it curiously. It looked deceptively mundane. Almost artful in its normalcy. Not even her magical sight could tell it from any other splinter of rotten wood.

    Autumn took an empty vial from her belt and carefully placed the splinter inside, re-corked the glass. Holding the vial up to the light, she admired her unwitting prize.

    While currently she¡¯d no plans or idea what to do with it, she hoped it would be a powerful material for whatever she did. For all she knew, it was as magically mundane as it looked. Although she very much doubted that.

    A chill breeze swept through the loose tent flaps and brushed over Autumn¡¯s uncovered chest, stiffening her slight peaks and raising goosebumps across her pale flesh.

    Shivering, she hastily wrapped the warm blankets around herself.

    Safely ensconced under her covers once more, Autumn finally had a moment of respite to herself. Loosening her blankets once the chill had faded, she took the time to look over her sore body. Whilst she¡¯d been unconscious, someone ¡ª likely Pyre ¡ª had treated her wounds, unclothing her in the process and wrapped her abdomen in clean gauze bandages. The familiar twinge of rapid, magical healing resonated from where her wounds once lay.

    A mottled collection of greenish-yellow bruises stood out starkly against her snowy skin. Sticky sweat coated her body as she sat in the soft light.

    Taking care not to pull her injuries too much, Autumn carefully unwound the bandages from her abdomen and took in the mess of scars beneath. The silvery spear that¡¯d pierced her through had left another rough scar amongst those left behind by the hag¡¯s careless healing.

    Autumn didn¡¯t lament the sight as she might¡¯ve once. With her newfound ability to reshape flesh, she planned to fix what she could into something much less tortured.

    Once she¡¯d practiced, of course. Like, a lot.

    Taking out a compact, polished bronze mirror from her things, Autumn nervously peeked at the side of her face. Thankfully, the scarring wasn¡¯t as bad as she first feared. A long, thin white line ran along the right side of her face from brow to hairline, culminating in a white slash through the top of her ear. Honestly, she thought it looked kinda badass. What concerned her more were the deep, black bags under her eyes and the absolutely terrible condition of her hair.

    The only other fresh scars she¡¯d gained lay on either side of her calf where the fragment of the exploding drow dagger had gone clean through.

    However, it wasn¡¯t just scars that Autumn looked over in her examination.

    Beneath her searching gaze and ghosting fingers, Autumn found a body of taut, dense muscles cladding her lanky, wide-hipped frame. They felt like unyielding iron beneath her pale fingers. Thanks to a steady diet of rich dragon steaks and the days of rough traveling, her body had mostly recovered from its brief foray with starvation. Only her body fat had yet to recover, leaving Autumn¡¯s womanly curves flatter than they once were, much to her consternation.

    A sudden, urgent pressure from her bladder reminded Autumn that she¡¯d been sleeping for a while.

    Groaning at her aches, Autumn hauled herself to her feet. Still clad in nothing but a blanket, she sought her things and swiftly withdrew her spare set of fresh clothing from within the nomad¡¯s belt. It took her but a moment to don her clean underthings and a thigh-length tunic, but her tight pants proved far too much for her achy limbs. Giving up, she tossed them aside and stepped into her spare pair of newly bought boots ¡ª the ones not stained by blood and vomit ¡ª and wrapped the blanket tightly around herself like a toga.

    At the urging of her bladder, Autumn staggered her way out of the tent and into the glittering light outside.

    The bright light made her eyes water. Blinking away the spots, Autumn cast her watery eyes around the encampment her friends had built. Several small purple tents ringed a central cookfire, concealed from the river by an assortment of large boulders and thick, tangling bushes.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes naturally alighted upon a familiar, towering form standing before the cookfire, powerful muscles glistening with sweat as she stirred a hearty pot of stew above the dancing flames. Gone were her ripped necromancer¡¯s robes, replaced once more by the sight of her barbarian-chic furs and rippling muscles.

    The scent of Nethlia¡¯s cooking filled the air, causing Autumn¡¯s hungry stomach to growl.

    Alerted by the loud sound, Nethlia turned Autumn¡¯s way. A bright smile lit up her face at the sight of her blanket-clad witch.

    ¡°Heya, sleepyhead!¡± her eyes drifted over Autumn¡¯s unusual outfit. ¡°Nice outfit you got there. You hungry?¡± she said, gesturing to the cook-pot.

    While her stomach agreed, her bladder did not. Already dancing from foot to foot, Autumn quickly asked, ¡°yes, but latrine first, please? I really need to go. Where exactly is it?¡±

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s back behind you. Behind the tents in the far corner. Just follow the path.¡± As Autumn hurried off, she called out. ¡°Don¡¯t use the leaves around here ¡ª Pyre says they¡¯re mildly poisonous!¡±

    Quickly nodding in acknowledgment as she shuffled away, Autumn made her way over to the camp¡¯s latrine. Thankfully for her sense of smell, a small bag of herbs hung nearby, covering the stink.

    After doing her business and thoroughly washing her hands in an icy bucket of water placed nearby, Autumn rushed back to Nethlia and the bowl of stew waiting for her. Autumn tried not to snatch it from the berserker¡¯s hands as her stomach roared.

    Laughing, Nethlia guided a furiously eating Autumn to sit down on a hewn log resting before the warm fire.

    The dark-eyed witch ravenously devoured bowl after bowl. Autumn almost cried at the taste. After so long eating the same thing, day after day, just having something different that also tasted amazing was heaven.

    Nethlia smiled at Autumn¡¯s antics and kept refilling her bowl.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Eventually Autumn couldn¡¯t eat anymore and handed her empty bowl back to Nethlia, waving off an offer of more with a tiny, satisfied burp. Autumn blushed at the sound. Nethlia smiled, simply handing the witch a steaming mug of tea. Breathing in the herbal scent, Autumn curiously looked about the camp, looking for the others. Not seeing them, she turned back to Nethlia, who was dishing herself up a heaping bowl of stew.

    ¡°Uh, where are the others?¡±

    ¡°Here and there,¡± Nethlia said, waving her spoon around the encampment as she sat down heavily beside Autumn on the log. ¡°Some are out, others sleeping. Eme was taking care of you as you slept. Right now, she¡¯s taking a rest in her own tent. She¡¯ll likely be up soon once she gets hungry. We got Pyre set up in her own tent, along with that alchemical set-up we looted. So she¡¯s likely busy making potions. Or at least she was the last time I checked. Liddie and Nelva are out scouting while Edwyn is fixing any damaged gear we have.¡±

    ¡°How long have I been asleep?¡± Autumn asked as she blew on the steaming mug of tea.

    After a few bites of her meal, Nethlia hummed in thought. ¡°About two days, I think. It¡¯s kinda hard to tell in this hells-damned place.¡±

    Autumn looked up at the cloudy ceiling looming high over the gemstone mountain range as Nethlia ate. She understood what Nethlia was saying ¡ª she long lost track of the days, seeing as no sun drifted in this liminal realm.

    ¡°What happened after I, uh, fell?¡±

    At Autumn¡¯s hesitant question, Nethlia set her half-finished bowl in her lap, not minding the heat, and turned her attention fully to her. ¡°Well, thanks to you, none of the other boats the drow had were in any state to pursue us. So, uh, thanks for that? It was quite the ride,¡± she smiled at the witch ruefully.

    Autumn blushed at the attention.

    ¡°After we¡¯d killed those chasing us overland, we headed upstream and found this place. Since then, we¡¯ve just been waiting for you to wake up.¡± Nethlia peered at Autumn, taking in her scarred face. ¡°How about you? How are you doing? You looked pretty beat up when we pulled you out of the river.¡±

    Feeling self-conscious, Autumn tried to shy away from Nethlia¡¯s ardent gaze, turning to let her black locks hide her scar. But the perceptive berserker wasn¡¯t having it. She reached over and cupped Autumn¡¯s cheek in one mighty palm to brush back her hair and lock eyes with her. As she ran her rough thumb along Autumn¡¯s fresh scar, the witch¡¯s pale, lightly freckled face went thermonuclear.

    ¡°Hey now, don¡¯t hide that cute face away,¡± Nethlia softly smiled. ¡°Don¡¯t be ashamed of your scars. They build character. Strength. Besides, I like it.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s heart beat loudly in her chest as Nethlia¡¯s bright eyes captivated her. ¡°U-u-um, I¡¯m-I¡¯m g-good,¡± she stuttered out. ¡°Good! I¡¯m just feeling a little sore and magically drained. It doesn¡¯t feel as bad as last time. I-I think I¡¯ll be better in a few days.¡±

    Nethlia hummed as she stroked Autumn¡¯s cheek. Letting go, she returned to her meal.

    ¡°Good. We can take a few days to prepare for the journey ahead. Liddie still needs to find a path forward. She says it looks like a battlefield out there.¡±

    ¡°Battlefield?¡± Autumn asked, hiding her blush with a sip of her cooler drink.

    Nethlia swallowed the last of her stew before replying. ¡°Yeah. Between the fairies and some sort of shadowy creatures and more goblinoids.¡±

    ¡°The hag¡¯s forces,¡± Autumn said grimly.

    Nethlia nodded. Briefly, she stood up and loaded her bowl full before sitting beside Autumn again. ¡°We¡¯ll have to sneak or fight our way through. I¡¯m leaning more on fighting our way through myself.¡±

    The reminder of the battles to come sent an icy shiver racing down her spine. Quietly, Autumn thought about all the things that could go wrong while Nethlia ate her third bowl. And in those thoughts of dread, she remembered Death¡¯s words and parting advice.

    ¡°Uh, hey, Nethlia? Can I speak with you for a moment?¡± Autumn asked nervously, fidgeting in her seat. ¡°There¡¯s, uh, something I need to tell you.¡±

    Nethlia paused in her eating. ¡°That sounds serious.¡± She glanced down at the nearly finished bowl in her hands. ¡°Hang on. Just let me finish this, then we can talk.¡± After spooning the last of her meal into her mouth, she stacked her bowl inside of Autumn¡¯s and placed them aside. Turning, she faced Autumn fully on the log. ¡°Go on. I¡¯m listening.¡±

    Autumn swallowed nervously. ¡°W-well, I, uh, just wanted to tell you that¡­that I¡¯ve¡­I¡¯ve been l-lying about¡ªwell not lying exactly, but omitting something about myself. About where I¡¯ve come from. Not that I didn¡¯t trust you or anything! It¡¯s just¡­I don¡¯t know¡­Icamefromanotherworld!¡± she breathed out in a rush.

    Blinking in shock at the avalanche of words, Nethlia held up a calming hand towards a hyperventilating Autumn. ¡°Calm down. Calm down. There¡¯s no need to rush. Whatever you want to say, I¡¯ll listen.¡±

    Autumn chewed on her words as she shivered. Her mind was a mess.

    Suddenly, Nethlia stood up. She held out a hand towards Autumn as the witch looked up at her. ¡°How about we head somewhere else? Go for a swim? Not saying that you stink or anything, but you have been asleep for a few days.¡±

    Autumn squawked indignantly.

    Grasping Nethlia¡¯s larger hand, she allowed the berserker to haul her easily to her feet. Staggering in her, Autumn blushed as she righted herself. She hurriedly distanced herself from the smirking demoness and rushed back over to her tent to grab her things, divesting herself of her makeshift toga while she did so. She shivered as the chill air brushed over her exposed thighs.

    Making her way back outside, she hurried across the encampment towards an awaiting Nethlia, the berserker¡¯s arms laden with her own gear. The skeletal horses cast curious looks Autumn¡¯s way as she rushed by them.

    Nethlia smiled at Autumn as she approached. ¡°Come on, it¡¯s not far.¡±

    The place Nethlia led her to was a small inlet pool near the camp connected to the river, shielded from its currents by a breakwater of massive boulders. Its smooth, crystalline waters glistened beneath the glow of bioluminescent lights. Soft flowers floated atop its surface.

    It was beautifully serene.

    Finding a dry place, Autumn dumped her things onto the rocky beach. While glancing nervously around for a sheltered place to strip, she froze as her eyes landed upon Nethlia¡¯s form. Uncaring for Autumn¡¯s presence, she¡¯d already stripped.

    Autumn didn¡¯t know where to look.

    Her fervent eyes darted across the demoness¡¯ statuesque form, dancing excitedly over rippling, powerful muscles glistening with sweat like jewels on a ruby red canvas. Nethlia¡¯s body was a living tapestry of violence and perfection, heaving and rolling as the berserker flexed. Heavy breasts heaved before the witch¡¯s fascinated eyes as Nethlia breathed while thighs thicker than Autumn¡¯s waist tensed when she turned towards her.

    Amused by Autumn¡¯s drooling, amorous gaze, Nethlia crossed her stalwart, muscular biceps beneath her breasts and cocked an eyebrow at the witch.

    ¡°You gonna ogle me all day, or are you going to join me?¡±

    Autumn started, her face flushing at being caught. Hurriedly, she turned away as Nethlia chuckled, swiftly shedding her clothes and rushing into the icy, opalescent water. The shallows fell away quickly, leaving Autumn submerged up to her waist after only a few feet. She shivered as the cold crept up her thighs.

    Nethlia settled in behind her, water drifting in her wake. ¡°Let me wash your back for you,¡± she said as she pressed up against Autumn.

    Autumn¡¯s skin burned where it touched Nethlia¡¯s own. She nodded rapidly.

    Soap clouded the water''s surface as the pair washed themselves.

    ¡°That¡¯s one helluva scar you got there,¡± Nethlia murmured, hands ghosting over Autumn¡¯s scarred stomach.

    Autumn squirmed at the touch. While she wanted nothing more than to fall into the touch, she instead mustered her will long enough to seize the berserker¡¯s wandering hands and turned to face her, placing those rough hands back on her sudsy hips. Looking up into Nethlia¡¯s bright eyes, Autumn took a calming breath.

    ¡°The truth is ¡ª I¡¯m not from this world. Your world. I¡¯m from another. Earth. I was just a student when the fey stole me. I knew nothing about magic, or witches, or even how to fight before I met you. I¡¯m¡­I¡¯m sorry for lying to you. Or at least, for not telling you. Can you forgive me?¡±

    Nethlia smiled down at the flustered witch. ¡°I kinda guessed.¡±

    When Autumn opened her mouth to ask, Nethlia interrupted her with a searing kiss.

    Autumn forgot to breathe. Any thoughts fled her mind as she clung desperately to Nethlia¡¯s muscular frame, knees going weak. Soft lips pressed fiercely against her own. Teeth nipped at her lower lip. Autumn¡¯s lips parted instinctively as a prying tongue sought entry, allowing it to twine with her own. Nethlia¡¯s tongue was hotter than her own.

    When the pair finally parted, Autumn¡¯s breath came in short and heavy. Panting, she stared up dreamily at Nethlia as the smirking berserker held her naked body.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Autumn muttered.

    Nethlia leant over, whispering into Autumn¡¯s ear. ¡°We¡¯ve got time before the others come back. Wanna fuck?¡±

    With wide eyes, Autumn rapidly nodded. She let out a squeal of surprise as the grinning berserker tossed her over her shoulder like a grand prize and marched cheerfully to the shore. An excited, powerful slap cracked across the witch¡¯s backside, eliciting another squeak.

    ¡°I¡¯ve never been much of a wordsmith, but I¡¯ve been told I''m quite skilled with my tongue,¡± Nethlia grinned.

    Autumn¡¯s heart thundered in her chest. Happily this time.

 Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: The Blooming of a Demonic Flower

    Autumn¡¯s maiden heart beat thunderously in her chest as Nethlia tossed her gently down onto a heaping pile of fur blankets within the demoness¡¯ cozy tent. The witch¡¯s face burned scarlet from being paraded through the empty camp like a marauder¡¯s prize. She glared up piteously at the towering berserker as she lay sprawled naked on her bed, dark locks splayed around her like a black halo.

    Tossing their things off to the side, Nethlia grinned predatorily down at Autumn.

    The witch¡¯s heart beat ever faster.

    Hurriedly, she tossed her hat aside. She needed its protection not in this arena of combat.

    A fervent heat filled the air, pouring off the pair¡¯s streaming, naked bodies as they joined in an amorous embrace. The weight of Nethlia¡¯s firm body pressed Autumn into the soft furs.

    It felt like fire where their skin touched.

    Autumn squirmed beneath Nethlia¡¯s slick muscles as the demoness caught her wrists, pinning them above her head with one mighty, calloused hand. She let out a surprised gasp as Nethlia¡¯s other hand explored her snowy body. Lightning erupted across her chest as Nethlia roughly palmed her breast, rolling her stiff peak between her rugged fingers.

    A searing kiss soon robbed the breath from Autumn¡¯s lungs.

    She moaned into the kiss as Nethlia¡¯s knee found its way to her sweltering core, spreading her legs around a muscular red thigh, slickening it with her excitement.

    A tingling warmth built within her stomach, startlingly fast. Electricity raced up her arching spine at every touch and taste.

    She wanted more.

    Nethlia¡¯s scorching tongue twinned with her own, wrestling it into submission. Arousal filled Autumn¡¯s mind as she lay pinned beneath the berserker¡¯s overwhelming strength, finding comfort in how the thick muscles crushed her. It was only when Autumn grew dangerously light-headed did the amorous lovers part.

    Dreamily, Autumn panted as she stared up into Nethlia¡¯s ardent, glowing gaze. She sucked in another gasp as Nethlia dipped low, spreading a line of fiery kisses down her swan-like neck, leaving behind dark marks of her conquest. Her collarbone too fell prey to the demoness¡¯ desires.

    The scent of sex, sweat, and excitement filled Autumn''s senses.

    A soundless gasp escaped her as Nethlia kissed her way down her chest, capturing one of her stiff, pink peaks gently between her teeth. The other she rolled between calloused fingers.

    More, she cried soundlessly, heat bloomed within her.

    Autumn didn¡¯t know when Nethlia had bound her wrists together with silken cloth, but she became intimately aware as the demoness¡¯ other hand found its way to her flower, fingers gliding through her slick petals.

    No longer could Autumn contain her cries.

    Nethlia kissed the pale witch¡¯s brow, right upon her fresh scar. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± she crooned encouragingly into Autumn¡¯s ear, matching the pace of her fingertips. ¡°Let me hear your beautiful voice.¡±

    ¡°Nethlia. I¡­¡± Autumn moaned out through gasps.

    ¡°Don¡¯t hold back,¡± Nethlia ordered, slowly driving a finger into the witch. ¡°Tell me what you want. What you need.¡±

    Autumn cried out.

    ¡°F-faster! Please! I need you!¡±

    Grinning, Nethlia picked up her pace, driving the snowy witch to the very edge of reason. The pleasure almost overwhelmed Autumn. Still, somehow she held on, drawing back from that wonderfully enticing edge.

    She¡¯d not go down without a fight.

    Seeing her witch shaking on the precipice of eruption, Nethlia teased her further, tugging and biting harder on her straining peaks.

    Through sheer force of will, Autumn clung desperately onto her sanity.

    That was until a rough thumb found its way to her flower¡¯s bud, grinding an electric thrum through her body.

    Autumn¡¯s back arched almost fully over as she came undone.

    Nethlia¡¯s hands supported her shuddering form, holding her back aloft. So consumed by pleasure, Autumn barely felt anything else as the statuesque demoness tilted her back, gently guiding her head to rest on the soft blankets while she draped the witch¡¯s boneless legs over her muscular shoulders, her horned head resting between Autumn¡¯s slick thighs.

    Autumn stared up at the demoness resting on her knees, staring hungrily at Autumn¡¯s flushed sex.

    Autumn gulped. One part frightened. Another excited.

    Another soundless, desperate gasp escaped her as a molten tongue traced her folds, tasting her flower¡¯s nectar. The skillful adventurer¡¯s tongue explored her as if she¡¯d found a fabled land of myth and legend.

    ¡°Nethlia,¡± the witch cried out as she grasped the demoness¡¯ horns. Not to stop her, but to drive her deeper into her untamed lands.

    Nethlia grunted at the encouragement and willingly entered the glistening cave before her, searching for the wondrous treasure just waiting to be teased free.

    Under the berserker¡¯s tender ministrations, a second wave crested quickly upon Autumn and she filled the questing demoness¡¯ mouth with her love.

    ¡°Nethlia!¡± Autumn screamed.

    Even if she wanted to stop ¡ª not that she did ¡ª Nethlia could not as Autumn pulled her deeper in by the horns.

    Three. Four. Five times did she tend to the pale, dark-haired witch¡¯s garden.

    Five times did she plunder its wealth.

    Stamina flagging after the sixth wave, a sweat-soaked Autumn crashed back into Nethlia¡¯s soft furs, letting go of the red thigh she¡¯d been holding onto as she pressed her pink core into the berserker¡¯s molten one.

    She was completely and utterly spent.

    Exhausted.

    Untwining herself from Autumn¡¯s quivering legs, a contented Nethlia finally unbound the fatigued witch¡¯s wrists and pulled her into a tight hug, spooning her from behind.

    Autumn sighed happily as she snuggled into Nethlia¡¯s strong arms, luxuriating in the warmth of the fiery body enveloping her. Slowly, her racing heart quieted. Her breathing evened out.

    Behind her, Nethlia pressed her nose to Autumn¡¯s disheveled raven locks, breathing deeply in her scent.

    ¡°Hmmm, I love how you smell,¡± she whispered.

    ¡°I stink,¡± Autumn croaked out as she wrinkled her nose, her voice raw from screaming Nethlia¡¯s name.

    ¡°I know, and I love it.¡±

    Rolling her eyes, even as she flushed, Autumn laughed. Her lungs burning at the action. ¡°I¡¯m all sweaty. And we just had a bath too. What a waste that was.¡±

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± Nethlia disagreed. ¡°Well there is something nice to be said about workout sweat, I prefer to be the one to make it. We¡¯ll just have to have another later.¡± The demoness¡¯ hands played along the witch¡¯s curves, massaging her pulled muscles. Notably, she didn¡¯t clarify whether she meant a bath or a ¡®workout.¡¯ ¡°Maybe we should invite Eme this time. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s upset about missing out on these,¡± she said, cupping Autumn¡¯s breasts.

    Autumn hissed as Nethlia¡¯s fingers brushed over the bite marks she¡¯d left upon her oversensitive skin.

    She swatted Nethlia¡¯s hands away. ¡°Stop that! It¡¯s all your fault anyway.¡±

    Nethlia grinned at the accusation, hugging Autumn tighter, causing her to squeak. ¡°Guilty,¡± she confessed shamelessly. ¡°But it was worth it to hear you crying my name.¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t cry!¡±

    ¡°Oh, my mistake. You were screaming my name. I¡¯m sure you woke up Eme with that caterwauling. Wait, is that offensive to say?¡±

    Autumn pouted, snuggling back further into Nethlia¡¯s body in protest. Chuckling, the demoness held her as they drifted into a blissful, satisfied silence. The blazing warmth heating up her back lulled Autumn into a dreamy rest. Her body ached for another entirely different and far more pleasurable reason.

    For a long, cozy moment, they simply basked in the afterglow of euphoria.

    Half-asleep, Autumn felt Nethlia moving to press her lips to her ear. ¡°Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for confiding in me earlier. Sorry for not saying it sooner. Or for saying it in a different way, I guess. I know it can¡¯t have been easy.¡±

    Autumn squirmed at the ticklish sensation.

    ¡°It was the right thing to do,¡± she murmured back. ¡°For you and for me as well. I didn¡¯t want to keep hiding this forever, and besides, I trust you. I¡ªI love you,¡± Autumn blurted out. ¡°You were there for me from the start. I don¡¯t know when it started but I love you. You and Eme both.¡±

    Nethlia tilted Autumn¡¯s head to face her and captured her lips, this time soft rather than passionate.

    ¡°I love you too,¡± Nethlia confessed.

    Autumn kissed her again. ¡°And Eme?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, I¡¯m not as close with her as she is with you, but she¡¯s growing on me. She¡¯s cute. Her taking care of you for the last few days certainly helped. How about you? Is it still strange for you? You said it wasn¡¯t common to have multiple partners back home. Which, thinking back on it, is another world. Huh.¡±

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    Autumn settled into Nethlia¡¯s arms once more, this time facing her as they talked.

    ¡°A little bit. Mostly I find myself worrying about what other people will think, even if I know intellectually that it''s normal here. Or at least it is in the Empire.¡±

    Nethlia hummed. ¡°I suppose I¡¯d feel strange if I was dumped into another culture. Good thing you can speak all languages. You never said how you managed that,¡± she asked curiously.

    ¡°Cause I don¡¯t remember,¡± Autumn shrugged. ¡°When I try to recall how, all I get is a bleeding nose, a blinding headache, and a desire to paint on the walls.¡±

    ¡°Paint what?¡±

    Autumn shook her head, trying in vain to clear the cobwebs. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I can never remember that either. Strange. Maybe I should try one day?¡±

    ¡°Best hold off on that,¡± Nethlia said, grimacing. ¡°You never know what kinda strange ideas might¡¯ve hitched a ride. Might want to get a priest or priestess to look at your head back home.¡±

    Autumn blanched. ¡°No thanks! I got a mess up here. Haven¡¯t cleaned it out in a while. I dread what they might find.¡±

    Nethlia laughed, the vibrations resonating pleasantly into Autumn¡¯s chest.

    ¡°Going back to relationships and cultures ¡ª what does it mean for us?¡± Autumn asked. ¡°I¡¯m still trying to wrap my head around all the different cultures and stuff. I don¡¯t want to offend you for assuming something.¡±

    Nethlia grinned wryly. ¡°Autumn, I¡¯ve been traveling with you for a month now, or just over it. Fuck this realm. I think I know you enough now that I won¡¯t be offended by whatever you want.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve either been traveling a few days or a lifetime. Take your pick.¡± Autumn shrugged. ¡°But can we go back to us please?¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Nethlia chuckled. ¡°Like I said before, my people value freedom. Whether that is physical, emotional, or sexual freedom. We don¡¯t do marriages like the Lepus, Elves, or Humans do. Not saying we can¡¯t stick with one person our whole lifetimes, we just understand the freedom of being able to amicably walk away. It comes with the long lifespan. Uh, that won¡¯t be a problem, will it? I know Humans don¡¯t live as long as Inferni do.¡±

    Autumn shrugged once more. ¡°I¡¯m a witch, so who knows. Might make a deal for more years down the line¡­or immortality. Provided Death doesn¡¯t complain.¡±

    ¡°...Right. Right, that¡¯s good. So as I was saying, long lives plus grudges doesn¡¯t tend to work out. We see it all the time with Elves. A thousand years locked in a loveless marriage?¡± Nethlia shuddered. ¡°No thanks.¡±

    A snort escaped Autumn. ¡°Sounds like hell.¡±

    ¡°Just the one?¡± Nethlia joked. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve noticed you often say; Hell not the Hells. And God not gods. Does your world only have a single god and a single hell?¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Wow, and here I thought I was being subtle.¡±

    ¡°You were,¡± Nethlia reassured her. ¡°Most would assume you only worship one, or just misspoke. It¡¯s only because you told me that I¡¯m remembering all the clues.¡±

    ¡°Oh ok. Anyway, I¡¯m not religious back home. It¡¯s not like here. We don¡¯t get miracles or any tangible, empirical signs of gods. It¡¯s all spiritual. Personal. Although some take it too far. But most believed there to be only a single hell and a single god.¡±

    ¡°Wait,¡± Autumn paused. ¡°If the River Styx is real, does that mean Hades was¡ªis too?¡± she muttered to herself. ¡°What of Tartarus and Olympus? Zeus? Was all that true? Nope! Not dealing with that pandora¡¯s box! No sir!¡±

    A bemused Nethlia stroked Autumn¡¯s head as she ranted.

    ¡°While I don¡¯t know about all of that, here the gods and the hells are real. Not that I¡¯ve been to the hells. Or want to.¡±

    Autumn leaned into the touch. ¡°Right. What were we talking about again?¡±

    ¡°Relationships, I believe. We covered my people, but what about yours? It¡¯s not all about me.¡±

    ¡°Honestly? I prefer your people''s way of doing things. My culture tends to see dating and relationships far more seriously than they¡¯re worth. Not that I¡¯ve been in a relationship before, but it seemed so stressful.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Nethlia asked curiously.

    ¡°Well, firstly, having multiple partners is frowned upon and heavily discouraged. Secondly, while same-sex relationships are now accepted in most parts of the world, it¡¯s a fairly recent development so it¡¯s not perfect. And that doesn¡¯t even include the countries who see it as a perversion worthy of death,¡± Autumn said sadly.

    Nethlia blanched. ¡°That¡¯s horrific!¡±

    ¡°I agree. My world isn¡¯t perfect, but we¡¯re trying. Anyway! I think we should be more like your people. I¡¯m excited to learn more about them!¡±

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°That¡¯s good, but you¡¯ll have to respect Eme¡¯s culture too. I think that just means meeting her family if you¡¯re serious.¡±

    ¡°That sounds like a fun trip. I¡¯m already planning it!¡± Autumn cheered, glad to be off the serious topic.

    ¡°That¡¯s wonderful! I guess it¡¯s a good thing you don¡¯t want a more human, single partner relationship. It¡¯d have broken poor Eme¡¯s heart when you chose me,¡± Nethlia teased.

    Autumn raised an imperious eyebrow. ¡°Oh? Why wouldn¡¯t it be yours that¡¯d be broken?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? What was that? Was it not my name you were screaming earlier? Was it not my fangs that marked you as mine? Shall I have to bite harder next time?¡± Nethlia growled playfully as she squeezed Autumn to her chest.

    Blushing and gasping for air, Autumn cried out for mercy, her voice bubbling with laughter. ¡°Mercy! Mercy, oh mighty berserker! Have pity on this frail witch!¡±

    ¡°Hmph, I suppose I shall,¡± Nethlia disdainfully. However, any offense was quelled by the smile playing across her lips.

    Snapping up impishly, Autumn bit the surprised berserker¡¯s lip, drawing blood.

    Nethlia licked her lips, her body heating up as she stared hungrily at the quivering rabbit that was Autumn. Visibly restraining herself from ravishing the exhausted witch again, she carried on from where she¡¯d left off.

    ¡°To put it crudely; while we¡¯re together ¡ª Eme, yourself, and I ¡ª any of us can chase whatever tits or ass that takes our fancy. That doesn¡¯t mean we can¡¯t judge the others for their poor decision making skills. It¡¯s half the fun.¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°I think that might be too much for me. Besides,¡± she stared down at Nethlia¡¯s extremely generous chest, ¡°you might be a five star pull.¡±

    ¡°...what?¡±

    Autumn blushed. ¡°It¡¯s a gaming term. Oh, I¡¯ll have to tell you about it later. I¡¯m just saying you might be unmatched when it comes to my type. Like seriously, I wasn¡¯t sure I was gay until I laid eyes on you. Then I knew.¡±

    Nethlia chuckled, her chest heaving before Autumn¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°What about Eme then?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s¡­intoxicating in a different way, I guess,¡± Autumn shrugged. ¡°I fell in love with her earnestness. To be honest, I think she was just clinging to me for emotional support. I kinda was too. I hope this¡¯ll last when we go back to Duskfields.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t worry about that,¡± Nethlia smiled. ¡°She was all over you while you slept. Was kinda hard to get in a look edgewise. She¡¯s smitten.¡±

    ¡°But what if it doesn¡¯t work out?¡± Autumn worried her lip between her teeth. ¡°What if she never wants to see me again. I might just remind her of all the bad times.¡±

    Nethlia pressed her thumb to Autumn¡¯s lip, stopping her from biting herself. She stared down seriously into Autumn¡¯s black orbs.

    ¡°Then you let her go. That¡¯s what our people are about after all. The freedom to choose. Not saying you can¡¯t fight for her. Just don¡¯t mistake passion for a cage.¡±

    Autumn buried her teary eyes into Nethlia¡¯s chest, sobbing quietly as her anxiety overwhelmed her. Nethlia stroked her back gently.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think it¡¯ll be a problem. She left these on you, didn¡¯t she?¡± she teased her, tracing her fingers down the faint scars trailing down Autumn¡¯s back, left by an overenthusiastic catgirl.

    A shiver ran up Autumn¡¯s spine. Only mostly from the cold.

    Sniffling, Autumn reluctantly pulled herself out of Nethlia''s hot embrace. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t lie here all day.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know, it sounds fun,¡± Nethlia grinned cheekily at Autumn who huffed.

    ¡°You might like smelling all sweaty, but I don¡¯t.¡±

    Nethlia huffed, giving Autumn an amused look. ¡°Don¡¯t lie. You were pressing yourself awfully close to me a moment ago.¡±

    Autumn blushed, not denying it. There was something unmistakingly primal about the berserker¡¯s scent. The pale witch eye¡¯d the sweat dripping down her ruby red collarbone, tempted to lick it up.

    No! Bad Autumn. If you do that, you¡¯ll never make it out of the tent in one piece¡­Is that such a bad thing?

    Nethlia eyed the salivating witch with amusement.

    Shaking off her wayward thoughts, Autumn huffed. ¡°We really should clean off.¡±

    ¡°Can we stay like this for a moment more?¡± Nethlia asked, favoring Autumn with blazing puppy eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not done with you yet. Plus, I¡¯ve a few things I want to talk about.¡±

    Before those soulful eyes, Autumn was but a weak-willed, na?ve girl. Dutifully, she nodded, letting the powerful Inferni draw her in close. The heat rolling off her body was palpable, steaming the air with their combined sweat. Autumn tucked in close, listening intently as her heart beat in tune with another.

    Salt danced upon her tongue. To the day she died, she¡¯d deny surreptitiously licking Nethlia when she had the chance.

    ¡°W-what did you want to talk about?¡±

    Nethlia hummed, eyes closed as she held Autumn. ¡°Myself, I guess. About my past a bit, seeing as you showed me yours.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to,¡± Autumn offered.

    ¡°I know, but I want to. Have I ever told you about my last party?¡±

    Autumn thought for a moment, breathing in Nethlia¡¯s scent. ¡°Maybe a little? I don¡¯t remember. I know you told me you were an adventurer for about ten years before you retired. Were you with them then?¡±

    ¡°Not the whole time,¡± Nethlia spoke softly. ¡°I joined the Duskfield¡¯s branch of the adventurer¡¯s guild roughly twelve years ago, I think. I was already the tallest demoness around by that point, if not as muscular as I am now. Even taller than most demons too! So, given my size, bruiser work was fairly easy to fall into and to find. You know, guarding, goods hauling, monster hunting and butchering, those types of things. I spent a few years just doing that. Not the most high paying jobs, but it was ok.¡±

    ¡°But that changed, I¡¯m guessing?¡± Autumn asked.

    Nethlia nodded, a melancholic look rising upon her face. ¡°Yeah. A few years in, I¡¯d made a bit of a name for myself. No, not the Omen-hammer, shush. But one for a hard, if intense worker. You see, I always had anger in me. A Rage. Still do, but I¡¯ve learnt to deal with it. There was this small dungeoneering crew, only three strong, that was looking for a frontliner. And they picked me.¡±

    ¡°I guessing dungeoneers specialize in dungeon delving?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but around here it¡¯s just one dungeon ¡ª Dungeonhold. A massive underground complex that goes many hundreds of floors deep. Nobody has ever seen the bottom, nor do they know who built it, but it¡¯s filled with lost treasures. Monsters too, and if they¡¯re not cleared regularly enough¡­they overrun the entrance, spilling out into the hills and plains. It¡¯s happened before.¡±

    Autumn gasped. ¡°A dungeon-break!!¡±

    ¡°Is that what you call it?¡± Nethlia raised an eyebrow, inviting Autumn to share.

    ¡°Well, in some stories it is. Did you experience one? Is¨CIs that what happened to your team?¡± Autumn asked softly.

    Nethlia shook her head. ¡°Nah, the last ¡®dungeon-break¡¯ was before my time. No, what happened to us was greed.¡±

    ¡°Greed?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. You see, in those days we were decent enough at delving. Just strong enough to afford the healing and repairs we needed at the end of each run as we searched for treasure and glory. Eberon¡¯s Deep Delvers we were called, despite not going down very far. Our leader was Eberon and there were two others besides me ¡ª Dyis and Horus. For years we plundered the dark, decrepit depths until¡­¡±

    ¡°Until?¡± Autumn urged Nethlia to continue.

    ¡°Until we delved too deep and came across a monster we couldn¡¯t defeat. Couldn¡¯t run from.¡± A heavy look of sadness crested her features. ¡°Only I survived. I kept thinking to myself that I should have said something. Done something. But I was just the brute. Just muscle.¡±

    Autumn bit her lip as tears beaded in the corners of Nethlia¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Is that what you think we¡¯re doing?¡± Autumn asked quietly.

    Nethlia flinched. She looked away, not denying it.

    ¡°I think the same sometimes.¡± Autumn''s confession drew Nethlia¡¯s eyes back to her. A rare vulnerable look bloomed across the witch¡¯s features, for once unshaded by her hat. ¡°Sometimes I think we¡¯re walking to our doom. That I¡¯ve driven us to it with a willing disregard for our lives. That we¡¯ll find something that is as unflinching as we need to be and that we¡¯ll break.¡±

    Quietly, Nethlia watched enraptured as Autumn talked, speaking both of their worries as if they were one.

    ¡°But, if not us, then who will brave the horrors we have? That we will in the future? Who but us can kill the hag and spare the world of her malevolent power?¡± Autumn''s voice rose into a soft fervor, no less powerful for its lack of volume. ¡°No one, that¡¯s who. We are the tip of the spear. The stalwart shield. The breakwater. It is I who gave the magic she needed to be a god, unwilling or not. It is up to me to be the one to right that wrong. To pay for my sins with blood if need be.¡±

    A pall fell over the pair inside the tent.

    Nethlia mustered the courage to pry free one of the last secrets Autumn had to share.

    ¡°What magic did she need? What magic is in that book that makes you so afraid?¡±

    Autumn was quiet for a moment, before she opened her taut lips and bled the terrible secret upon Nethlia¡¯s ears. She hoped the demoness would forgive her.

    ¡°It¡¯s called Wish.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: Firelight Thoughts and Plans

    But if not us, then who?

    The hushed words spoken in a naked embrace burned into Nethlia¡¯s mind even now, almost an hour later, as she stared into the cookfire, watching as the flickering flames burned low. Taking pity on the embers stubbornly clinging to life, she tossed another log into the fire, sending bright sparks into the cool air alongside a blaze of warmth.

    Try as she might, Nethlia couldn¡¯t dislodge Autumn¡¯s words. They challenged her. Demanded to know if she¡¯d stand tall against evil as others around her faltered.

    For the longest time, she¡¯d thought she wasn¡¯t good enough. Wasn¡¯t strong nor smart enough to be that kind of hero. The ones who¡¯d raise their bare fists to challenge a legion of devils, angels, or even a dragon without flinching.

    Implacable was the word. Steadfast.

    Nethlia wasn¡¯t that. She¡¯d faltered before, after all. Ran and left her friends to die in the dark, fighting nightmares that still made her blood run cold years later.

    Some dark nights she¡¯d awoke to see that foul abomination looming over her before her senses cleared and her heart stopped trying to leap clear of her chest. Only rage had kept the terror at bay during the day.

    Heroes don¡¯t run.

    That was what she¡¯d thought for years. So she, as someone who had, could never be one.

    Nethlia had tried to pay her debt of blood with backbreaking labor. Pay with death and more rage. Selling her might for coin. And while her body had endured, allowing her to earn enough to pay off her physical debts, she¡¯d not eased the guilt deep inside.

    After retiring from the adventuring life, she¡¯d thought she would just stay in her mother¡¯s old tavern, drowning under the weight of her sins.

    But perhaps the goddess Nusraura had taken pity on her, having seen a familiar flame smoldering within the berserker¡¯s breast that burned within the goddess of wrath¡¯s own. Perhaps she hated seeing a warrior once as proud as Nethlia had been wasting away in some small village.

    Or maybe it was just luck that saw a twig-strewn witch stumbling into her tavern and upending her life. Luck that made Autumn look at her with dark eyes that saw a hero who didn¡¯t believe she was one.

    From that point on, nothing had been the same.

    Shortly thereafter, Autumn had taken away Nethlia¡¯s fear, traded for it with a painting that tore away the armored facade she¡¯d built up around herself, showing the raw hero hiding away beneath. She hadn¡¯t glossed over Nethlia¡¯s flaws. Not her rage, nor the ragged, healing wound left behind by the fear that¡¯d plagued her for so long.

    In honesty, it¡¯d made the painting far more precious to her than if Autumn had.

    In Autumn¡¯s eyes, she was beautiful. And in that moment, as she¡¯d gazed down at her striking physique displayed in vivid paint, Nethlia had allowed herself to take pride in the scars her haunted past had left her.

    Ever since, she¡¯d not had that creeping nightmare again.

    It felt almost as good as sex had. Almost.

    Nethlia doubted she could ever repay Autumn for that ¡ª the painting, not the sex ¡ª no matter what the witch said about their debts being settled. But she would try. Even if that meant giving her everything for it.

    Thinking back on her painting safely tucked away back in the bordello, Nethlia resolved to talk with Autumn about her art when they returned. She was seriously underselling her services. A painting that could do that for someone¡¯s self-esteem should be worth more than a handful of gold coins or a nightmare ¡ª not that she knew what a nightmare was worth. Once Autumn was done with her promised batch for the courtesans, perhaps they could reevaluate her prices? Something to think about, at least.

    Nethlia returned to mulling over Autumn¡¯s earlier words.

    But if not us, then who?

    It was practically the unwritten credo of the Adventurer¡¯s Guild. That, and the actual motto: The journey is the Glory. Also, mind the step.

    Most saw it as a flippant motto, an irreverent statement to match its members, but Nethlia, along with the other, more experienced members of the guild, saw it differently. To them, it reminded them not to get too wrapped up in the goal. To not let the ends justify the means and hyper-focus on promised treasure, coin, or glory but to watch where you walk lest you trip. Trip before you make it back home to the guild¡¯s welcoming halls.

    Or at least that¡¯s how Nethlia saw it. For all she knew, the original guild hall long ago might¡¯ve just had a troublesome front step, and the phrase got tacked on over the years.

    Shaking her head, Nethlia looked up across the campfire. Autumn sat on another hewn log opposite her, freshly bathed and dressed, while a distressed catgirl fussed over her still dripping hair. A small smile of amusement tugged at Nethlia¡¯s lip as Autumn favored her with an exasperated look. At Eme¡¯s urging, Autumn had placed her tattered hat in her lap so that she could access the witch¡¯s dark, tangled locks.

    It seemed not even magic could tame her wild hair for long.

    Nethlia glanced over at Eme. They¡¯d met the flustered catgirl just shortly after leaving her tent. Just as she¡¯d predicted, Autumn¡¯s cries and moans of pleasure had woken Eme from her short-lived sleep. She¡¯d been livid at not having been woken sooner. Funnily enough, it wasn¡¯t missing out that had the normally shy girl incensed, but that Nethlia had exhausted Autumn so soon after the witch had woken up and while she was still recovering to boot.

    The smug look that had washed over Autumn¡¯s face as the tiny girl scolded the much larger Nethlia had been mildly irritating. Still cute though.

    Eme had a fair point, however. So, visibly contrite, she¡¯d apologized and took Eme with them down to the river to bathe.

    Nethlia didn¡¯t know how to feel about the Felis. While Eme and Autumn made for an adorable couple, she had made Autumn cry, if unknowingly. It¡¯d been a shock, for sure. Autumn usually looked so put together. Fearless. So seeing her break down sobbing into Nethlia¡¯s chest had made the berserker want to hurt whomever had dared harm her girl.

    Which was slightly awkward considering she actually liked Eme. Not in the way she liked, no, loved Autumn, but she didn¡¯t dislike her either. In fact, taking care of a sleeping Autumn together the last couple of days had drawn them closer.

    Seeing as Autumn trusted the catgirl enough to share her past with her as they bathed, Nethlia would trust her as well.

    Eme¡¯s embarrassed apology for mistaking Autumn as a runaway princess, despite being corrected otherwise, had caused Nethlia to burst into laughter. Autumn hadn¡¯t found it funny when Nethlia asked Eme how she could mistake this wild child as a princess.

    Autumn had pouted till both of them wisely apologized, showering her with kisses.

    Nethlia made a mental note to take Eme out to a play and dinner sometime for the assisted save. Bards liked plays, right?

    Turning away from the flirting pair, Nethlia looked around the campfire to the others.

    Shortly after their trio had finished bathing, the remaining members of the party had returned to camp, them having finished their tasks outside the encampment. Once they¡¯d taken their turns washing, the entire party had gravitated towards the warmth of the campfire. They now sported various looks of contentment and appreciation as they savored the hearty meal Nethlia had made.

    Pride flared within herself at seeing her cooking skills valued so. Far too many adventurers dismissed the effect a well cooked meal had on morale. Sometimes it made the difference between life and death.

    Movement across the way drew Nethlia¡¯s attention. Glancing over, she met eyes with a nervous-looking Autumn as the witch peeked around at the others. Nethlia gave her an encouraged nod as their eyes met.

    Taking a steadying breath, Autumn stood up and cleared her throat. With everyone¡¯s eyes on her, the dark-eyed witch spun her tale. She told the others of her past ¡ª of her own world.

    Not all of it as she had with Eme and Nethlia, but most of it.

    Nethlia could understand. The idea of sharing what lay within the witch¡¯s stolen book of dark spells and black art, even with her closest friends and allies, set the berserker¡¯s teeth on edge. Even she wasn¡¯t immune to desire. Imagine ¡ª a spell that could do anything. Make anything. It was almost too much to fathom. An ember of desperate greed had flared in Nethlia¡¯s chest upon hearing about such a spell. One she ruthlessly smothered at seeing the trust Autumn had in her. That it existed at all, even for a moment, ashamed her.

    The fact she wouldn¡¯t know how to use it even if she got her hands on it didn¡¯t factor into her guilt.

    She vowed never to mention the spell again. Never ask for what she couldn¡¯t achieve on her own. Her pride wouldn¡¯t allow it.

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Shaking herself out of her dark thoughts, Nethlia focused back on Autumn. She had to stifle a chuckle as she caught sight of Eme beside her. The catgirl was smitten hard. Despite being told everything already, she still stared up at Autumn, enraptured, hanging onto the witch¡¯s every word.

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s tale winding down, Nethlia looked around the campfire, taking in the other¡¯s contemplative expressions. ¡°Questions?¡± she inquired when Autumn finished speaking and sat back down.

    Liddie cast a discerning look Nethlia¡¯s way. ¡°You already knew about this?¡± she asked, waving towards Autumn.

    Nethlia nodded. ¡°She told Eme and I earlier.¡±

    Curiosity aroused, the swashbuckler narrowed her eyes, flickering them from Nethlia¡¯s stoic mien and Autumn¡¯s flushed one. She smirked when Autumn shied away from her searching look. ¡°Just talking, eh? Must¡¯ve been an intense conversation.¡±

    Autumn looked as if she wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

    ¡°Can we focus, please?¡± Nethlia drawled out, unamused.

    Liddie rolled her eyes and pouted. ¡°Killjoy,¡± she complained. When Nethlia continued to stare seriously at her, she raised her hands with a sigh. ¡°Fine, fine! Stop trying to kill me with those peepers of yours ¡ª someone might get the wrong impression. What do I think about our world-hopping witch? I don¡¯t really care. It¡¯s not like learning this has changed who she is, right? Just that she¡¯s a bit more traveled than I first thought. Besides, we all have our dark pasts, don¡¯t we?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± Pyre said, raising her hand.

    Nethlia raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a dark past,¡± Pyre elaborated, pointing at Liddie. ¡°She said we all have dark pasts. I don¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Aye? Didnae ye almost burn down a whole district once?

    Pyre flushed at Edwyn¡¯s pointed question. ¡°That was an accident! I didn¡¯t mean to do it!¡±

    ¡°Yes, that is what accident usually means,¡± Nelva teased Pyre, sharing a kind smile with a visibly calming Autumn.

    From Autumn¡¯s side, Eme perked up. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t that make it a bright past?¡± she joked. Seeing everybody¡¯s blank looks, she wilted. ¡°You know, because of the fire? Bright? Get it?¡±

    Groans filled the campsite.

    ¡°For a bard, you have a poor sense of humor,¡± Pyre snarked.

    As Eme cried out in offense at Pyre¡¯s vengeful teasing, Nethlia looked back over at Autumn just in time to catch the witch wiping away her tears with one billowing sleeve, a dumb smile playing on her lips.

    Nethlia herself smiled sadly at the sight. Thankfully, the others were kind enough not to mention the witch¡¯s tears as she gave a hiccuping laugh at their antics and banter.

    However, when Autumn finally calmed down, that¡¯s when they pounced.

    ¡°You said there weren¡¯t any other races but humans in your world?¡± Nelva asked curiously, leaning onto her knees. Her wounded ear flopped into her face. Nethlia caught Autumn staring at it seriously before she replied.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± she nodded, ¡°but we still had a bunch of myths and legends about other races, including the Fey. Likely there was some crossover somewhere. Maybe travelers like myself made it back?¡± she asked hopefully. ¡°Or maybe someone from this side made it to my world instead. What¡¯s strange is the names I¡¯ve heard.¡±

    ¡°Names?¡± Nelva verbally prodded.

    ¡°Race names specifically,¡± Autumn elaborated. ¡°To my ear, they sound like Latin ¡ª a dead language back home. It¡¯s hard to translate, as Latin has multiple meanings attached to each word. For example; Inferni can mean Hell/Dead. Manus ¡ª Hand/Work. Felis ¡ª Cat/Thief. Lepus ¡ª Rabbit/Hare. Ignis Lutum just means Fire Clay, as far as I can tell. Apt, I guess.¡±

    ¡°Fascinating,¡± Edwyn murmured. ¡°Is that what yer stories called our people?¡±

    Autumn hummed. ¡°Not really. We have a bunch of different names for other ¡®fantasy¡¯ races. We usually call people like the Manus Dwarves while we tend to just add ¡®folk¡¯ to the end of a description of other races ¡ª Catfolk, Rabbitfolk, Demonfolk, etc.¡±

    ¡°Wait, if your world didn¡¯t have any other races, did that mean there weren¡¯t any wars?¡± Eme asked innocently.

    The others scoffed with varying levels of amusement at the catgirl naivety.

    ¡°No.¡± Autumn shook her head sadly. ¡°We had many, many wars. I don¡¯t know enough about this world to know if it was more or less, but we fought with each other a bunch. Sometimes over the stupidest of things.¡±

    ¡°What about knightly orders?¡± Nelva asked. ¡°Did you have them?¡±

    ¡°Y-yes. We had a bunch. You know, to go along with the wars.¡±

    Liddie leaned forwards in her seat. ¡°How about pirates? Buccaneers? Freebooters and corsairs? Plunders of the waves? If you have boring knights in your world, tell me you have pirates at least.¡±

    ¡°W-well, t-they¡¯re not as prevalent nowadays, b-but we had a lot at one point!¡± Autumn stuttered out, shrinking into herself. ¡°S-same with the knights, except in some weird clubs.¡±

    Seeing Autumn getting overwhelmed by the questions, Nethlia clapped to get everybody¡¯s attention. Autumn flashed her a grateful look.

    ¡°Alright! That¡¯s enough interrogating her. You can ask her your questions later. For now, we need to discuss our plans going forward.¡±

    Turning to Liddie, Nethlia gestured to her to speak. ¡°Liddie, how about you give us your report on the situation you scouted out?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing, boss!¡± Liddie straightened up on her seat at the command, throwing Nethlia a mock naval salute. ¡°Funny that we were just talking about wars, as that¡¯s what we are looking at here. A host of elvish-looking fey are currently clashing with an absolutely massive horde of goblins and some creepy crow monsters. I spotted more of those crow-hounds that attacked us before and the Dire-crows that we found near Duskfields along with a few other types, so I think we can safely conclude it was the hag that was responsible.¡±

    ¡°Any way through without being spotted?¡± Nethlia asked, threading her fingers together beneath her chin.

    Liddie shook her head. ¡°None. At least, none right now.¡±

    ¡°Explain.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the terrain that¡¯s the problem,¡± Liddie elaborated somewhat seriously. ¡°The further away from the hag¡¯s abode it is, the more in flux the land becomes. One moment we might be looking at a desert, the next a dense jungle or a swamp. Seemingly, it can change in an instant,¡± she grimaced. ¡°And while it looks like that¡¯ll subside the closer we get to our destination, it comes at the cost of encountering more goblin fortifications.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± Nethlia swore. ¡°How certain of this are you?¡±

    Liddie shrugged. ¡°Mostly? Look, I didn¡¯t go that far on account of the bloody war being waged! What I saw was a bunch of fucked up terrain and screaming hordes clashing. Neither side seems interested in such things as ¡®order¡¯ or ¡®formations.¡¯ However, I saw a bunch of half-destroyed forts and twisted trenches out there. Likely, this ¡®Wild Hunt¡¯ planned to unleash the messed up land on the crows and goblins before hitting them hard and fast. I doubt they were expecting as much resistance as they got.¡±

    Frustrated, Nethlia sighed. ¡°Looks like we¡¯ll just have to fight our way through. No use planning around a route when it¡¯ll change on us.¡± Seeing everyone¡¯s anxious expressions, she continued. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on what we can do. Pyre, how are your potions doing?¡±

    Pyre started at being addressed. Nervously, she fidgeted with the goggles on her forehead. ¡°Good? I mean, good. With the quality of the set-up I have, we¡¯re looking at higher quality potions than I¡¯d normally be able to produce.¡±

    ¡°What can we expect?¡±

    ¡°With the reagents that I have and time available, I should be able to produce a batch of healing, stone-skin, wide-eye potions alongside refreshing my stocks of fire and explosive ones. Unfortunately, I lack the ingredients to create any sort of poisons or their associated antidotes.¡± Pyre shrugged apologetically.

    Hearing this, Autumn perked up. ¡°Oh!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°I stole¡ªcough¡ªlooted a bunch of poisons from the fort, as well as some weapons and armor!¡±

    ¡°Good job, Autumn,¡± Nethlia praised, causing Autumn to blush. ¡°Make sure you get those to Pyre or Nelva, respectively.¡± Turning back to Pyre, she asked, ¡°how long would you need to get all the potions done?¡±

    Pyre hummed. ¡°With refining the poisons added? Maybe three or four days? Sooner if I had help.¡±

    ¡°Good, I¡¯m sure someone will have some time to lend. See to it,¡± Nethlia softly commanded the alchemist before turning to Edwyn. ¡°How are the repairs going? I know we took some damage during our escape and Autumn¡¯s chainmail got damaged in her own flight.¡±

    ¡°Naw good,¡± Edywn grumbled. ¡°We ain¡¯t got nae metal to repair wit¡¯ and I ain¡¯t nae bone-smith. Yer witch¡¯ll have tae fix up her horses ¡®efore we leave.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°What happened to my horses? Did you break them?¡±

    ¡°We ain¡¯t break ¡®em! They ran oot o¡¯ magic after we¡¯d escaped. Dropped stone dead on us. Had tae fish ¡®em out o¡¯ the drink, we did!¡±

    ¡°Shit, that¡¯s right,¡± Nethlia swore again, tugging on her hair. It was growing far too shaggy for her liking. She glanced at Autumn apologetically. ¡°You¡¯ll need to reanimate them if we want to keep the sleigh ¡ª there¡¯s no way I¡¯m dragging it through a battlefield.¡±

    ¡°Once you¡¯ve rested, of course,¡± She added hastily.

    ¡°I can do that,¡± Autumn nodded slowly. ¡°Actually, I¡¯ve had a few ideas about upgrading them, but I¡¯ll need some more bones.¡±

    ¡°Leave that to me!¡± Nethlia grinned triumphantly, finally having something she could do to aid her witch. From the side, Liddie giggled at her dopy expression, which she gamely ignored. ¡°I¡¯ll go hunting tomorrow and bring you back something nice!¡±

    Autumn looked up at her worriedly. ¡°Is-Is that wise? You know that the Fae have strange views on the ownership and hunting of game. I don¡¯t want to see you fall afoul of them.¡±

    A warm feeling arose in Nethlia¡¯s breast at the concern Autumn felt for her. Still, she confidently reassured her witch. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I know. However, it¡¯s not fae that I¡¯ll be hunting. You see, with us camping so close to the breach between worlds, we often see more mundane animals wandering through. Just the other day, I spotted bear markings on some trees near to camp. Would bear bones work for your magic?¡± she asked hopefully.

    Nodding slowly, Autumn spoke absentmindedly as she thought. ¡°Bears? Yes. Yes! Bear bones would be amazing, thank you! I got so many ideas!¡±

    Nethlia grinned dumbly at the praise, continuing to ignore the other¡¯s teasing.

    ¡°Right. So, that¡¯s covered. Any more ideas, or are we good to wrap this meeting up?¡±

    ¡°Um, I had another idea,¡± Autumn spoke hesitantly. Seeing nobody objected, she continued on at Nethlia¡¯s encouraging urging. ¡°We could make a war-wagon.¡±

    Nethlia blinked. ¡°A what? What¡¯s a war wagon?¡±

    Rather than Autumn who replied, it was Edwyn. ¡°Yer ken think o¡¯ em as mobile firing platforms. Archers or crossbowmen stand inside, shootin¡¯ down from behind cover as beasts o¡¯ burden pull them along. We use ¡®em back home in the deep tunnels.¡± Edwyn turned to Autumn, pulling on their beard in thought. ¡°Lassie, yer thinkin¡¯ o¡¯ usin¡¯ yer bony beast for it?¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Hmm! With a few modifications and armor, we could plow right through the lines, firing back on those chasing us with the crossbows I liberated.¡±

    Edwyn chuckled. ¡°Tis a sound plan. I¡¯ll drawn up tae plans later.¡±

    With nothing more looking to be said, Nethlia clapped her hands. ¡°Right! Good planning session everybody! Get some rest ¡ª we¡¯ll begin first thing in the morning, bright and early!¡±

    Liddie blanched. ¡°Wait! You don¡¯t mean¡­¡±

    Nethlia grinned evilly. ¡°Yup! Nethlia¡¯s training camp is reopening! It¡¯s beyond time I got you lot back into shape! No more slacking off.¡±

    ¡°But! How could we have?! We¡¯ve either been fighting for our lives or cramped in that damned boat!¡± Liddie whined.

    ¡°Excuses!¡± Nethlia bellowed, taking vindictive pleasure in the pirate¡¯s despondency. Damn demoness shouldn¡¯t have mocked her love for Autumn! ¡°First thing in the morning we¡¯ll be doing a new training method Autumn has graciously shared with me called suicides. Grim name, but I¡¯m eager to try it.¡±

    Behind her, Nethlia heard Autumn whimper. ¡°I¡¯ve made a huge mistake,¡± the witch cried.

 Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen: For Want of a Spell Book of Her Own

    Beneath swaying luminescence did Autumn dwell, bathed in soft radiance. By lantern light, banished was the creeping darkness, sent away to the far-flung corners of a fabric realm. Here, hushed in her tent, the witch and her black cat hid.

    Anxiety crept and crawled upon the witch¡¯s mind, provoked by the stress of before. Of confession. Yet she could not deny the freedom she felt. That joy of liberation.

    But that was then. Now she plotted and planned.

    As such, upon her bed she¡¯d spread her collection of rare books, tomes, and manuals liberated from the necromancer¡¯s library. Each half-opened to a page that¡¯d caught her eye. Cracking open the screaming cover of her stolen spell-book of dark necromancy, Autumn rested it upright against her bedroll pillow before fishing about in her belongings for her wayward notebook and accompanying charcoal pencil.

    Eme, that curious cat, poked about the scattered books, seeking something interesting to read. However, she swiftly gave up upon realizing she¡¯d understood nothing of the esoteric dead languages written within.

    Autumn, the ever-accommodating, offered to read the books aloud for Eme¡¯s benefit, but the mercurial catgirl declined, opting instead to retrieve a borrowed pack of Adventurer¡¯s Gambit cards to play a solo game on her lonesome.

    A small smile crept across the witch¡¯s lips at the wilfulness of her lover.

    Returning to her notebook, Autumn carefully flipped through the various detailed sketches she¡¯d made of her compatriots and the environs they¡¯d passed until she reached a blank page. After making sure her pencil was sharp, she began writing.

    Autumn had come a long way since her first desperate taste of the blackest craft all those dark nights ago. She¡¯d changed much since donning that tattered black hat.

    Yet, it hadn¡¯t been all that long ago, had it? Barely more than a month and a half had passed since her flight from Witch Augus¡¯ long abandoned hut. Mortal time, that was. She had no clue how long she¡¯d spent within the Feywild both times together. This and the last.

    Did it actually matter in the end?

    ¡®God,¡¯ Autumn exclaimed quietly to herself, ¡®had it only been that long?¡¯

    It sure felt a heck of a lot longer.

    Autumn refocused, clearing her mind of distraction. She thought now of her spellcraft and witchery. Of how much she¡¯d improved over that short time. And in her retrospection, she gained a new outlook on the type of witch she was and had strived to become.

    If she were to use gaming terms, Autumn would call herself a metamagic, fear-aspect witch with multi-classes in both fighter and necromancer.

    A bit of a mouthful, really.

    Perhaps she should rename herself? Autumn wondered. After all, she was no longer the same na?ve witch she once was.

    Tapping her pencil to her lips, she thought the idea over.

    Autumn was a witch. She¡¯d tapped into a part of the world that now came to shape her. Guide her. But did it define her? That was the question, wasn¡¯t it? Could she be anything else?

    Would losing her hat be akin to losing a part of her soul?

    Perhaps she was being overly dramatic, but it was still a big deal, if only to herself.

    However, that didn¡¯t stop her from thinking about what else she could be. Could call herself.

    Maybe she could name herself in relation to metamagic, seeing as it was becoming a major part of her magical repertoire. Something like Sorcerer Witch? Sorcerwitch for short? Or perhaps she should rename herself as a Wilderwitch on account of how often she was battling nature these days.

    Hmm, perhaps not.

    As much as she¡¯d like to, Autumn couldn¡¯t call herself a Necrowitch. Necromancy was, and still is, an illegal and vilified art within the Echea Empire. And while Autumn wouldn¡¯t be abandoning her gifts in the craft anytime soon, she didn¡¯t need to be so blatant about it.

    Heading in the other direction, she could rename herself as something a bit more palatable in order to integrate herself into the wider magical community. Names like Spellweaver, Spellsmith, or Arcanecaster sprang to her mind.

    However, she could go further the other way instead. Name herself something with a villainous bent to it. Harbinger sounded good, but maybe Scourge might be better?

    Maybe she¡¯d end up calling herself a Reaper Witch in honor of Death. He was her honorary grandfather, after all. Not that she¡¯d told him that last part, but she¡¯d decided it¡¯d be so.

    She should get him a gift sometime.

    Unable to decide either which way, Autumn simply scrawled out the nickname Nethlia had given her before at the top of the page.

    Witch of Fear.

    As names go, it wasn¡¯t bad, if a little basic.

    Autumn idly reached over and scratched Eme behind her big fluffy ears, eliciting a pleased purr from the lazing catgirl.

    On the notebook page, Autumn divided her magical acumen into three broad categories; talents, metamagics, and spells.

    Talents, she defined as magical abilities or gifts that applied themselves unilaterally to her mind, magic, and/or body. Like feats from her parents¡¯ old games. However, Autumn decided to not include those of a purely physical nature. She hardly needed to fill her notes with a fitness record, no matter how much it¡¯d please Nethlia for her to do so.

    A shudder rolled through Autumn¡¯s body as she remembered the doom that awaited her on the morrow.

    She should¡¯ve kept her damn mouth shut!

    ¡­but Nethlia had looked so earnest when she¡¯d asked about Autumn¡¯s physical education. She couldn¡¯t resist telling her.

    Damn those soulful eyes to heck!

    Talents.

    <ul>

    <li>Witch sight ¡ª an empathic ability that allows me to see the emotions of others and myself. Additionally, with time, I was able to refine the ability to see potent concentrations of magic, namely within enchanted items or inscribed glyphs/wards.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Emotional Harvesting ¡ª the main ability of witches. This ability allows me to siphon potent emotions (predominantly fear) from a willing target or environment to fuel my spells. Requires a hat to store magic within.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>All-Tongues ¡ª Origin unknown. An ability that allows me to read, write, and speak any language I¡¯ve encountered so far. This includes dead and magical languages. Sign and body count as well as singing. (And no, I cannot understand animals.)</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Death¡¯s Gift ¡ª protection from instant kill and death-aligned spells. Gained from swimming in the River Styx.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Word of Power: Begone ¡ª a word spoken in the language of magic. Begone casts the target away from myself, manifesting as either a physical force or akin to a banishment spell. Other effects may be possible. Further testing is required.</li>

    </ul>

    While the word of power was spell-like, Autumn wrote it here instead of with her spells as it was a consequence of her All-Tongues rather than her learning the spell properly. As evidenced by the painful backlash that speaking the word gave her, and the wildly inconsistent effects it manifested.

    Metamagics.

    <ul>

    <li>Fear/Stun. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Force/Shove.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Harm/Necrotic.</li>

    </ul>

    It was a pitifully short list, but no less important than the others.

    Metamagic was a powerful, fascinating concept. By adding new expressions and modifiers to her existing spells, Autumn could twist and create a whole new slew of invocations. It opened up so many possibilities going forward, especially if she discovered more metamagics.

    The creative dreamer inside her rejoiced.

    With a grin, Autumn picked her pencil up once more.

    My Spells!

    <ul>

    <li>Combat spells.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Jinx ¡ª single target ranged attack. Evocation.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Touch ¡ª single target melee attack. Evocation.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Imbue Weapon ¡ª weapon buff. Transmutation.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Shield ¡ª melee and ranged protection. Abjuration.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Grave Domain spells. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Delay Death ¡ª single target stabilization against death. Necromancy.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Requiem ¡ª single target protection from undeath. Necromancy.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Raise Steed ¡ª single target undeath animation. Necromancy.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Healing Spells.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Flesh Stitching ¡ª focused ritual. Necromancy.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Bone Grafting ¡ª focused ritual. Necromancy.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Utility Spells.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Mind Whisper/Brain Worm ¡ª single target, point-to-point communication spells. Enchantment.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Black Water ¡ª dimensional travel. Conjuration?</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Dirt Dismay ¡ª small area cleaning. Transmutation.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Repair ¡ª targeted repair of small objects. Transmutation.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Detect Poison ¡ª detection of poisons in and around self. Divination.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Detect Disease ¡ª detection of disease in and around self. Divination.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Recipes and Crafts.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Healing Balm. Alchemy.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Bone Totem. Witchcraft.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Anti-hex Charm. Witchcraft.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Ward of Alarm. Abjuration.</li>

    </ul>

    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    Autumn paused her writing once more.

    Was this really all the spells she had? She knew she didn¡¯t have that many, but still! Without her metamagic altered spells crowding the page, her list of spells looked positively anemic!!

    It definitely wasn¡¯t the arsenal of destructive magic she desired. Without powerful spells, how was she meant to fight against the overwhelming might of the hag and kill her?!

    Hell, she didn¡¯t even know how to cast a fireball spell! Weren¡¯t they meant to be a staple of mages everywhere?

    Imagine if she¡¯d tried to go into the mages¡¯ district without even knowing such a well-known spell! All the other mages would point and laugh at her! They¡¯d call her the fireball-less witch until she cried! Then Nethlia and Eme would dump her because she¡¯s a lame fireball-less mage! And she¡¯d be naked for some reason too! If that happened, she¡¯d seriously cry!!!

    Ok, maybe she was being a little overdramatic, but it was still a serious problem.

    However, as there was little she could do about it right now, Autumn didn¡¯t lament it further. Instead, she massaged her hand as she thought over her metamagic combos. Most she¡¯d created already, but there were a few yet to be brought to foul life.

    Putting her pencil back to paper, Autumn scribed out her expanded list of spells.

    Starting with the very first spell she¡¯d ever learnt.

    <ul>

    <li>Jinx of Fear ¡ª metamagic combo: Jinx + Fear. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Requires a wand to cast. A ranged spell attack that stuns a single target for up to 6 secs. Duration of the stunning effect is affected by the target''s willpower and mental fortitude. (Non-lethal.)</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Forceful Blast ¡ª metamagic combo: Jinx + Force.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Requires a wand to cast. A ranged spell attack that imparts substantial kinetic energy into a target, forcefully pushing them away from the caster. The strength of the kinetic energy is adjustable when cast. Current estimates put it between the strength of a solid punch, up to the force of an onrushing bull.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Necrotic Lance ¡ª metamagic combo: Jinx + Harm.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Requires a wand to cast. A ranged spell attack that inflicts necrotic energies onto a target. Once struck, the target¡¯s flesh rapidly putrefies. While not always immediately lethal, it doesn¡¯t seem like a pleasant experience either.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    Autumn grimaced as she recalled what effect even a glancing strike had done to the drow mage¡¯s face. Her gut churned at the memory that haunted her.

    With shaking hands, Autumn banished her recollection by moving onto the next set of her metamagic-imbued spells.

    <ul>

    <li>Touch of Terror ¡ª metamagic combo: Touch + Fear. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Cast wandlessly. A melee spell attack that stuns a target upon contact for up to 6 secs. Duration of the stunning effect is affected by the target¡¯s willpower and mental fortitude. (Non Lethal. Follow up attack highly recommended.)</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Forceful Punch ¡ª metamagic combo: Touch + Force.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Cast wandlessly. A melee spell attack that imparts substantial kinetic energy through the caster¡¯s strike into a target, potentially knocking them back. Unknown if the target needs to be living to be affected. (i.e. can I now punch down walls or undead?) Further testing required.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>Blight ¡ª metamagic combo: Touch + Harm.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Cast wandlessly. A melee spell attack that imparts necrotic energies into a target upon touch. Once struck, the target¡¯s flesh putrefies very rapidly. (0/10. Would not recommend.)</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    Autumn shuddered at the memory of her fingers sinking into decaying flesh. Getting liquid drow out from under her nails had been a nightmare.

    <ul>

    <li>Dread Knife ¡ª metamagic combo: Imbue Weapon + Fear. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Requires a blade capable of holding magic. A transmutation spell that imbues a blade held by the caster with a razor-sharp edge. The spell dissipates upon the blade¡¯s removal from the caster''s hand. Unknown as to the maximum length of blade the spell allows. Daggers and knives work fine.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    The next metamagic combo was a curious one. Autumn had used it before, albeit not intentionally or even skillfully.

    <ul>

    <li>Explosive Dagger ¡ª metamagic combo: Imbue Weapon + Force. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Requires a disposable blade. A transmutation spell that imbues a weapon with more magical energy than the material of the blade can handle. Once removed from the caster¡¯s hand, it¡¯ll shortly detonate into a cloud of shrapnel. Uncontrollable, and is just as likely to injure the caster as well as any targets. (It has!)</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    Autumn massaged the scar on her calf as she grumbled beneath her breath about shoddy spells. Not that¡¯d been much of one when she¡¯d used it before. More of a containment failure of her Dread Knife.

    Maybe if she practiced more with it, she could make it less unpredictable?

    Something to think about.

    The next combo was one she¡¯d not actually used or even made yet, but was theoretically plausible.

    <ul>

    <li>??? ¡ª metamagic combo: Imbue Weapon + Harm.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Unknown spell. Likely requires a blade. Possibly coats the blade with a necrotic edge to impart necrotizing energies into cuts. (Gross.) Testing is required. Potential names: Occam¡¯s Razor? Necromancer¡¯s Bite?</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    There, that was all her combative, damaging spells. Autumn vaguely recalled reading about a sound-based attack spell back in Duskfields, but without the Tome of Witchcraft in front of her, she had no hope of learning the spell by herself.

    Perhaps the Necromancy spell-book had something similar?

    It was worth a look later, at the very least. For now, she carried on to her most powerful, and most used spell. The shield spell.

    <ul>

    <li>Aversion ¡ª metamagic combo: Shield + Fear. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Cast wandlessly. A directed magical force field that protects the caster from extreme amounts of damage, both magical and non-magical. Has survived a heavy, magical bladed strike from a powerful undead angel and being buried under a couple tonnes of solid rock. Requires active concentration, but can be cast near instinctively.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    Autumn hummed to herself as she contemplated what adding the other two metamagics to the shield spell would do.

    <ul>

    <li>??? ¡ª metamagic combo: Shield + Force. </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Unknown spell. Perhaps adding Force will create some sort of explosive reactive armor? Or another possibility would be to condense the shield down into itself and create some sort of mage armor? Witch Armor? Testing required.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li>??? ¡ª metamagic combo: Shield + Harm.</li>

    </ul>

    <ul>

    <li style="list-style-type: none">

    <ul>

    <li>Unknown spell. A dangerous combination, perhaps? Due to the nature of the shield spell, it is unlikely to harm the caster. Unlikely, but not impossible. Probably the metamagic will create some sort of protection from necrotic energy or it could create a far more grim reactive armor. Very careful testing is required.</li>

    </ul>

    </li>

    </ul>

    Autumn let out an explosive sigh as she finished writing. Slumping back on her bed, she massaged her aching hand as she read over what she¡¯d written. Of her remaining spells, only Mind Whisper looked likely to benefit from the metamagics she had.

    Perhaps she could make a psychic blast or a mentally damaging spell?

    ¡°Done already?¡± Eme asked, looking up from her game at hearing Autumn¡¯s tremendous exhale.

    Autumn glanced down at the game she was playing. It looked to be a single player version of that Adventurer¡¯s Gambit game they¡¯d played before, way back when at the Misplaced Inn. They¡¯d not had much time to play together since.

    Currently, Eme was borrowing Nethlia¡¯s deck, having lost her own with all her gear in the under-roots. Autumn knew this as the catgirl had cried about losing all her rare Felis adventurer cards during their journey.

    Not having one apparently marked you as a newbie in the guild more than having a bronze rank did. Heck, even Pyre had one, and she¡¯d joined the guild after Autumn had.

    No, Autumn wasn¡¯t upset by this. Why do you ask, huh?!

    Apparently, most of the fun was in collecting cards. And given that the Adventurers¡¯ Guild had branches across the known world, there were a lot of official cards depicting famous adventurers from every culture.

    Not even escaping to another world spared Autumn from card-collecting mania.

    Autumn shook her head at Eme¡¯s question. ¡°Just finished up my spell list. I want to read some of these anatomy books before bed.¡±

    ¡°Anatomy books?¡± Eme cocked her head curiously as she glanced over the rare books around Autumn. ¡°How come?¡±

    ¡°Well, you know how I¡¯ve learned some healing spells, right?¡±

    Eme blinked. ¡°You mean those Necromancy ones?¡± she shivered.

    ¡°Yeah, those. The thing is, they¡¯re not really Necromancy spells. They¡¯re actually Biomancy spells!¡± Autumn grinned as she picked up an anatomy book on Elvish bone structures and how to reinforce them.

    Who better to learn about bodies from than the people who regularly took them apart?

    ¡°So, I had an idea.¡±

    ¡°Sounds dangerous,¡± Eme smirked. ¡°Are you sure you didn¡¯t hurt yourself?¡±

    ¡°Hardy har har,¡± Autumn deadpanned. She lightly rapped the grinning catgirl on the head, causing her to squeak. ¡°Do you want to hear my idea or not?¡±

    Clutching her head melodramatically, Eme pouted up at Autumn. ¡°Sorry, sorry! Please regale me with your brilliant idea, oh magnificent queen of the dead and damned!¡±

    Autumn huffed at Eme¡¯s teasing, but did as she was bid. ¡°So if these spells themselves aren¡¯t strictly Necromancy, then I should be able to use the same methods the necromancers used to improve their undead, but on myself instead!¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not thinking about turning yourself into a lich, are you?¡± Eme asked hesitantly.

    ¡°What? Oh, no! Nothing like that,¡± Autumn reassured Eme.

    Well, it wasn¡¯t a terrible idea. Death himself was just bones, and he seemed to be doing alright.

    She would miss food though. And sex.

    ¡°I was just thinking about reinforcing my bones or making my skin tougher. That sort of thing. It¡¯d make Nethlia¡¯s training days much easier.¡± Autumn joked. ¡°Besides, we need to take all the opportunities we can get, you know?¡±

    And why should she stick to human anatomy? Autumn pondered as she gazed at the startlingly realistic drawings of dissected Elven bodies. She could pick all the best traits from the other races and turn herself into an ¨¹bermensch.

    Hell, she didn¡¯t even need to stick with humanoids either. She was sure there was an abundance of magical creatures out there that possessed enviable traits.

    ¡°Sounds dangerous.¡±

    Eme¡¯s words broke Autumn from her daydreams. Slowly, she nodded in agreement. ¡°Yeah, but what isn¡¯t? I won¡¯t do it now, of course, or likely anytime soon. I¡¯m not an idiot. But when I¡¯ve researched and practiced¡­would¨Cwould you be interested?¡±

    ¡°If you think it¡¯s a good idea, then yes. I trust you,¡± Eme said, looking resolutely into Autumn¡¯s eyes.

    Autumn beamed.

    Holding Eme¡¯s hands, anxious thoughts crossed Autumn¡¯s mind. Blurting out, she asked, ¡°um, we¡¯ve been talking about my plans all this time, but what about yours?¡±

    ¡°Mine?¡± Eme blinked in confusion.

    ¡°Yeah, what did you want to do once¡­once we get back home? Is there like a bard¡¯s college you want to attend?¡±

    ¡°Me? attend a bardic college?¡± Eme screwed up her face in thought. ¡°Maybe? I¡¯ve never really thought about it. Never had the coin for it before.¡± Suddenly, a sly smile crept across the catgirl¡¯s face. ¡°They say that attending a bardic college often costs an arm and a leg. Looks like I¡¯ve paid half my tuition already, huh?¡±

    Autumn choked on her laughter as Eme wiggled her eyebrows. ¡°That¡¯s awful!¡±

    ¡°Meh, it¡¯s my arm. I can joke about it if I want.¡±

    Once Autumn¡¯s shocked laughter petered out, she prodded Eme some more in spite. ¡°So, how about it? College for the dragon-armed Felis?¡±

    Eme shrugged nonchalantly, looking away from Autumn. ¡°Eh, I¡¯ll pass.¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s that? Not your style?¡± Autumn joked as she nudged Eme¡¯s shoulder.

    The catgirl just shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s not that, it¡¯s just¡­¡±

    ¡°Just what?¡±

    Eme looked back at Autumn guiltily. ¡°Well, there isn¡¯t a college in Duskfields. All they¡¯ve got is a theatre hall. Don¡¯t get me wrong, it¡¯s great, but it¡¯s no college.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s heart froze in her chest. Struggling for breath, she forced out the words. ¡°U-umm, where¡ªwhere is the closest one?¡± Her voice cracked at the end of her question.

    Eme looked down at her finger in her lap. ¡°Oldgrave. But that¡¯s the College of Graves.¡±

    ¡°Which d-did you want to attend?¡±

    ¡°The College of Blades,¡± Eme admitted, whispering it as if confessing a sin.

    ¡°Where?¡± Autumn¡¯s chest hurt.

    ¡°On the other side of the Empire, in the capital.¡± In a rush, Eme reassured Autumn, ¡°don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not going!¡±

    ¡°You should,¡± Autumn interrupted Eme, looking her dead in the eyes with steel in her own. ¡°If it¡¯s your dream, then you should¡ª¡±

    ¡°No! Don¡¯t throw me away!¡± Eme blubbered, clinging desperately to a shocked Autumn, tears streaming down her cheeks. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I did, but I¡¯m sorry! Please, don¡¯t leave me! I don¡¯t want to be alone again!¡±

    Autumn snapped out her of daze. ¡°Hey, hey, hey! I won¡¯t throw you away!¡± She reassured the brawling catgirl, calmly stroking her back as she shook. ¡°There¡¯s no need for that. I won¡¯t, I promise.¡±

    ¡°P-promise?¡± Eme hiccuped into Autumn¡¯s shoulder.

    ¡°Till the day I die.¡±

    Black magic swirled through the lantern glow between the lonesome lovers, twisting about their fated words and resolute promises. If Autumn so willed, she could bind them in an unbreakable spellworking. Chain herself to Eme and Eme to herself forevermore by their whispered compact.

    Autumn let the magic slip through her fingers. She needed no spell to honor her word.

    Not with her.

 Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen: La Brave Tueuse de Rat.

    Autumn panted, her lungs burning as she ran through the crisp morning air. The chill breeze washed over her scorching body as molten sweat dripped from her every pore, sticking her sodden tunic to her taut muscles like a second skin. Salt stung her eyes. Constantly, she had to brush away her sweat-soaked raven hair from her face, only for it to stick to her again with each bounce.

    Alongside her, the others doggedly kept pace, each striving towards another line carved into the dirt.

    Sometime while Autumn had been asleep, Nethlia had turned a rather substantial section of flat grassland outside the encampment into a training yard of packed earth. She¡¯d even set up a row of straw dolls, presumably made from local materials, along the far side for target practice. However, it was the hauntingly familiar lines running horizontally down the entire length that¡¯d made Autumn shudder upon seeing them the first time.

    Lines the entire party were sprinting for now.

    Autumn cursed her loose lips as surely as the others were for inflicting the torment of suicide drills upon them all.

    Upon reaching the final line in the dirt, everybody tiredly pivoted in place and rushed back to the starting line.

    As she set a blistering pace matched by the others, Autumn wished she was back in her tent, sandwiched between Nethlia and Eme¡¯s warmth. Yet it wasn¡¯t to be. Earlier than even this dreadful hour, Nethlia had roused them from blissful slumber and the siren-song of their beds to cast them cruelly out and into her hellish training.

    Already Nethlia had pushed, pulled, and prodded Autumn through a dizzying variety of stretches that¡¯d left the witch¡¯s body burning and looser than it¡¯s ever been. Pride welled up in Autumn¡¯s chest as she recalled the flexibility she¡¯d regained from her track and field days. Not that it¡¯d been all that long ago.

    Eme¡¯s feline flexibility had tempered Autumn¡¯s pride somewhat. The catgirl could do standing splits while using Nethlia¡¯s statuesque body as a wall.

    No, she wasn¡¯t jealous. At all. Anyone who said otherwise was a dirty liar.

    Exhausted, Autumn staggered across the starting line amidst Nethlia¡¯s cheerful encouragement. She slowly decelerated from her stumbling sprint into a walk, placing her hands on her hips as she sucked down great gouts of air to steady her breathing. Her legs shook like a newborn fawn as she paced.

    Autumn looked over as the others with a critical eye as they staggered to a stop beside her.

    Everybody had suffered from starvation when they¡¯d gotten lost under the roots of the world, but none more so than Nelva. Thanks to her race¡¯s primarily herbivorous diet, she¡¯d been unable to consume any of the meat they¡¯d scavenged from the dead dragon. And while that trait had spared her from Liddie¡¯s atrocious attempts at cooking, it also meant she¡¯d had to subsist entirely on what meager rations of dried mushrooms and roots her group could pool together.

    Thankfully, they¡¯d resupplied on vegetation rations somewhat when they¡¯d briefly met back up with the convoy, and high-priced, nourishing, calorie-dense foodstuffs in Nasurin, but it¡¯d still been a rough trip for the poor Lepus Knight.

    Now, however, Nelva¡¯s health had significantly improved, not the least aided by the oddly colored alchemical drafts Pyre concocted for them. The alchemist¡¯s supplements tasted like mud and strawberries.

    Pyre had said she couldn¡¯t do anything for the taste, but Autumn suspected it was revenge for something. What that was, she didn¡¯t know, but she was sure of it.

    ¡°Alright!¡± Nethlia bellowed, shaking Autumn from her contemplations. ¡°Partner up! It¡¯s time to run through strength training! No slacking now! I¡¯ll be watching!¡±

    Pairing up with Nelva, Autumn and she muddled through the rigorous training regime Nethlia had devised for them all. Push-ups, sit-ups, squats, lunges, planks, and many more that Autumn knew not the name of. For the next hour and change, the demoness ran the party ragged.

    Eventually, thankfully, Nethlia called a halt to the training.

    Autumn collapsed into the dirt as her quaking legs couldn¡¯t support her any longer.

    A tossed waterskin kicked up a plume of dust as it landed before the doubly exhausted witch. Glancing up, she watched as Nelva drained her own, before using her shirt to wipe away the heavy sweat from her brow. Autumn leered respectfully at her friend¡¯s toned physique.

    ¡°That was a good workout, no?¡± Nelva said to Autumn, speaking reflexively in her native tongue.

    Autumn started, tearing her eyes away from Nelva¡¯s chocolate-toned muscles. Quickly, she guzzled down her water, splashing the dregs over her head to cool down, before replying.

    ¡°Aha, yeah. It was something alright,¡± Autumn grumbled as she massaged her aching muscles. She¡¯d have to see if Pyre could make anymore of that healing balm, else she might not be moving in the morning. ¡°Do you think we¡¯re done, or does Nethlia have more planned?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, I think she wants us to spar for a bit before going off to do our own things.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± Autumn nodded. ¡°Did you want to spar together, then? I left my weapons back in my tent. I can go get them if you want me to.¡±

    ¡°Oui. But I think it might be best to do some hand-to-hand, seeing as how we lack our armor. Do you know much about grappling?¡± Nelva asked, running a hand through her shaggy hair.

    Autumn tilted her hand back and forth. ¡°Vaguely. I¡¯ve never done it myself, but I¡¯ve seen it done. You¡¯ll have to teach me.¡±

    ¡°Bien!¡± Nelva held her hand to the supine witch, hauling Autumn to her feet when she grasped it. ¡°I¡¯m glad I don¡¯t have to train out any bad habits you might¡¯ve picked up. Or less, at least.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think I¡¯d have any? Bad habits, that is.¡±

    Nelva leveled Autumn with an arch look. ¡°Everyone picks up bad habits.¡±

    ¡°Even you? Every time I¡¯ve seen you fight, it''s been like watching a dance. But, like, a deadly one.¡±

    Nelva shrugged as she squared off with Autumn, lowering her center of gravity. ¡°I¡¯ve had some of the best chevaliers as my trainers, but even then it took me years to learn how to fight. You? I just need to show you what not to do. So come, let¡¯s spar.¡±

    If Autumn thought she was deadly in close-quarters, Nelva showed her otherwise. She didn¡¯t even stand a chance against the agile knight. As soon as Nelva got her hands on Autumn, it was over. Even if Autumn had been willing to use magic on her friend, Nelva was smart enough to keep the witch¡¯s hands from touching her.

    On the plus side, Autumn now knew what it felt like to be put in a headlock and a myriad of arm bars.

    Nelva ran Autumn through the various forms of knightly grappling she knew.

    Clearly designed for use against an armored opponent, the style placed heavy emphasis on using the opponent¡¯s weight and restricted maneuverability against them. While getting up from being thrown to the ground in armor was easier than it looked, or so she¡¯d been told, you still didn¡¯t want to be at the mercy of your opponent. Many a knight had died on their backs with a dagger slipped between their armored plates.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    A tired Autumn lay on the dusty ground, staring up at the enormous creatures swimming through the clouds as Nelva sat down beside her.

    ¡°You did well for your first time. You should be proud.¡±

    Autumn huffed. ¡°I just got thrown around the whole time. How is that me doing well?¡±

    ¡°You learnt how to fall, did you not?¡± Nelva joked, her soft laughter tinkling in the air. ¡°It is the most important lesson, non? That and knowing how to pick oneself back up.¡±

    ¡°I suppose,¡± Autumn acquiesced. ¡°Where did you learn all that stuff, anyway? Back home?¡±

    Nelva nodded. ¡°Oui. Mon p¨¨re was¡ªis a chevalier-commandant of my maison chevaleresque.¡±

    ¡°A what now?¡± Autumn blinked.

    ¡°Maison chevaleresque,¡± Nelva repeated slowly. ¡°In common, you would call it, a knightly house. Do you know much about my homeland? Le Duch¨¦ du Lapin?¡±

    ¡°Wait, it¡¯s really called the Duchy of the Rabbit?¡± Autumn asked incredulously.

    Nelva shrugged. ¡°It is named after the river Lapin that runs through my country to the northern coast and for the abundance of lagomorphous wildlife we have. Do not call my people rabbits,¡± she warned the witch sternly. ¡°It is offensive.¡±

    ¡°Noted. But, uh, to answer your early question. I don¡¯t know anything about your home, only that you ran away thanks to some vampire noble or something.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, close, but we do not have nobility in my country. Not how you¡¯d know them.¡±

    Autumn cocked her head in confusion. ¡°I thought you were a noble?¡±

    ¡°Non. I am a Chevalier. As such, I possess a chevalerie. A knighthood, as you would say in common,¡± Nelva clarified. ¡°Unlike in the noble republiques further out east, a chevalerie title isn¡¯t inheritable like a nobility would be. However, being a daughter of a Chevalier, there are certain¡­expectations placed upon oneself.¡±

    ¡°What, so they expected you to be a Chevalier when you grew up?¡±

    Nelva glanced down towards Autumn inquisitively. ¡°Oui. Is that so strange where you¡¯re from?¡±

    ¡°Hmm, a little? I mean, some people end up doing their parents¡¯ jobs back home. Farmers, laborers, artists, musicians. That sort of thing. But it¡¯s mostly because of early exposure and influence. In most modern countries, it¡¯s mandatory to receive at least a primary and secondary education, going from ages five up to eighteen. There is tertiary education available in the form of universities and colleges, but I hadn¡¯t finished high school yet before...well, before all this happened.¡±

    ¡°That is surprising to hear. Your people get that much education?¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°More or less.¡±

    ¡°What were you thinking of doing once you¡¯d finished your ¡®highschool¡¯?¡± Nelva asked curiously. ¡°Were you planning to join a militaire?¡±

    ¡°Ha! Me?¡± Autumn laughed. ¡°I doubt it. Too many rules for me. No, I was planning to be an athlete or an artist. Whichever worked out the best. Maybe both?¡±

    ¡°And your parents? What did they do? You said your p¨¨re was a guild leader or something?¡±

    For a quiet moment, Autumn idly played with the dirt as she thought about her father, letting the dust run through her fingertips. ¡°He wasn¡¯t. Not really. I mean, he was, but not in the way I¡¯ve implied. There aren¡¯t any monsters on Earth. Or at least, not ones that aren¡¯t human. He was a history professor at a local university, teaching medieval literature, of all things. My mother was a game developer. That¡¯s how they met, incidentally. Playing games together. Everything I know about other races, monsters, classes, and combat comes from stories they¡¯d told me of the games they¡¯d played.¡±

    Autumn looked around the clearing warily. ¡°To be honest, it¡¯s spooky how accurate some of their stories turned out to be.¡±

    Clearing her throat, Autumn turned back to Nelva. ¡°Were you, uh, close to your p¨¨re?¡±

    Nelva shook her head sadly. ¡°Non. With both his duties and the expectation placed upon me, I saw my m¨¨re¡¯s paramours and tutors more than I ever saw my m¨¨re or p¨¨re. I spent my childhood training with other ¨¦cuyers and ¨¦cuy¨¨res. Squires.¡±

    ¡°Will you ever return?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps one day,¡± Nelva smiled. ¡°But first I have to restore my honor.¡± At Autumn¡¯s questioning look, she continued. ¡°I¡¯ve told you about the vampire, Oui? When I accused my fiance of being a vampire, I did so at my wedding in front of all of my p¨¨re¡¯s chevaliers. However, when neither sunlight nor silver could prove my claims, I lost my honor in their eyes. An honorless chevalier is a dire thing indeed.¡±

    ¡°How the hell did a vampire survive sunlight? That¡¯s not fair!¡±

    Nelva scowled. ¡°I assume some trick on their behalf. A magic item, perhaps? Or a body double?¡±

    ¡°Did you try a wooden stake to the heart? Decapitation? That usually kills vampires in the stories I¡¯ve read.¡±

    Nelva chuckled. ¡°Autumn, I think that decapitation would deal with most creatures,¡± she said wryly.

    Autumn blushed at the playful rebuke. ¡°Oh, right. Duh. Although¡­remind me later to tell you the tale of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.¡±

    Curiosity peaked, Nelva nodded. ¡°Will do.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve been meaning to ask, but, how did you get the name ¡®la brave.¡¯¡±

    Nelva flushed slightly at Autumn¡¯s question. Absentmindedly, she played with her shaggy hair as it draped around her neck. Laughing slightly under her breath, she spoke.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a humorous tale. I didn¡¯t think so back then, but now I see the humor in it. However, I must ask you not to tell Liddie. I don¡¯t think she¡¯ll ever let it go.¡±

    Autumn nodded eagerly. ¡°You can trust me! Come on. Spill!¡±

    ¡°Well, back when I was younger, just an ¨¦cuy¨¨res, not the chevalier you see before you, a task the older chevaliers would assign me was to help keep the local monster populations down. Supposedly, this was to teach responsibility, dedication, and perseverance, but I think now it was just to keep us kits busy.

    ¡°Anyway, one day a runner came in from an outer village, decrying an invasion of beasts. As a young ¨¦cuy¨¨res, full of vim and vigor, I marshaled my cohorte d¡¯¨¦cuyers and set off for the embattled village. Furious, we rode, imagining a beastide the likes never seen before.

    ¡°Unfortunately, when we arrived, our ¡®beastide¡¯ was but a gathering of rats gnawing on the village¡¯s grain stores. Ever since, the other ¨¦cuyers always called me Nelva, la brave tueuse de rat. Nelva, the brave rat killer in the common tongue.¡±

    Autumn snickered, causing Nelva to flush. She glared at the giggling witch. ¡°Laugh it up. Let¡¯s see you deal with a plague of rats.¡±

    ¡°I could,¡± Autumn snickered. ¡°Easily. Probably cause a rat plague too, now that I think about it. But, I thought it was very brave of you to rush in like that. Who knows, maybe it might¡¯ve been a beastide?¡±

    ¡°If it was, more the fool I would¡¯ve been. But thank you for your kindness, even if your words were tainted by amusement at my expense,¡± Nelva snarked playfully.

    Movement caught the knight¡¯s attention. Looking over, she saw the others had finally finished their own spars and were making their way back to camp. Standing up with a slight grunt, Nelva offered Autumn a hand up and hauled the witch to her feet.

    ¡°Looks like the others are done. Thanks for sparring with me. And for listening.¡±

    Autumn smiled. Out of her eye, she caught sight of Pyre and was reminded of the poisons she still carried. Turning back to Nelva, she spoke quickly lest the alchemist disappear on her. ¡°It¡¯s no problem! I¡¯m always happy to talk to you! Come get me later and we¡¯ll talk about knights and stuff! I want to tell you all about King Arthur and the round table, Sir Galahad, Saint George and the dragon, Siegfried, Joan of Arc, Saint Celestine and Roboute Guilliamn!¡±

    Running away as fast as her tortured limbs could carry her, Autumn waved over to a wobbling Pyre. ¡°Hey, Pyre! Wait up! I¡¯ve got some stuff for you!¡±

    Nelva watched Autumn go with amusement. Running her fingers through her shaggy hair, the knight grimaced at the sweaty feeling.

    ¡°I really need to get a haircut,¡± she sighed.

 Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen: Alchemical Flames and Poisons

    ¡°Hey, Pyre! Wait up!¡±

    Through the crisp morning air, Autumn¡¯s calls rang. Staggering, she chased after the departing alchemist.

    Hearing the calls for her name, Pyre tiredly turned to look at the dark-haired witch chasing after her. She, like Autumn, was dusty and sore from the hellish training they¡¯d just endured. Her mismatched eyes of fire ¡ª one her natural orange, the other a gifted green ¡ª alighted upon black irises as Autumn came to a stop beside her, breathing roughly.

    Autumn took a moment to regain her breath, looking over her friend¡¯s shattered visage as she did so. She could help feel guilty at the sight seeing the spiderwork of green scars lining the ashen skin.

    Feeling Autumn¡¯s eyes upon her, Pyre twitched in annoyance. ¡°What?¡± she barked.

    Autumn started at the noise and guiltily looked away. ¡°Sorry. I was just¡­uh, how¡ªhow are you doing? You know, with the¡­¡± She trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the side of her face.

    Pyre¡¯s scowl deepened. Glancing away, she stewed for a moment before turning back to stare defiantly into Autumn¡¯s dark eyes. ¡°It¡¯s fine,¡± she said curtly. ¡°I¡¯m fine. All fixed up now. Within and without. You don¡¯t need to worry about me dragging the party down anymore.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Autumn asked, surprised. ¡°That wasn¡¯t¡ªI didn¡¯t¡ªNobody thinks you¡¯re dragging the party down! Not now. Not before.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t lie! I¡¯ve seen how everyone looks at me!¡± Pyre snapped, storming off towards camp.

    Autumn hurried after her, her long legs easily catching up with the fuming girl. ¡°Hey! Hey! Seriously, nobody thinks you¡¯re dead-weight or anything like that!¡±

    Pyre stopped, glaring fire at Autumn, steam wafting off her as she fumed. ¡°Oh, so now I¡¯m dead-weight, am I?!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡ª¡± Autumn sighed, pinching her nose in exasperation. It was only because she could see how anxious Pyre was actually that stopped her from snapping. Reigning in her own frustrations, Autumn glared into Pyre¡¯s flaming eyes. ¡°Look, can we not do this? Fight, that is? I just wanted to make sure you were alright. If you don¡¯t want me to care about you, you can fuck right off.¡±

    Pyre snorted, but she looked somewhat mollified.

    ¡°Now, if you¡¯ve stopped trying to bite my head off, I¡¯ve got some poisons to give you.¡±

    ¡°Fine,¡± Pyre groused, embarrassed from being lectured by a girl only a few seasons older than her. Holding out her hand, she spoke grudgingly. ¡°Hand them over, and I¡¯ll get to work refining them.¡±

    Autumn blushed slightly. ¡°Uh, I don¡¯t have them on me right now.¡± Seeing Pyre¡¯s annoyed look returning, she hurriedly spoke. ¡°But, I can go get them fairly quickly! They¡¯re just in the belt, back in my tent. Well, after I bathe first ¡ª I stink. And uh, no offense, but you could use one too.¡±

    At Autumn¡¯s reminder, Pyre sniffed her sodden shirt, recoiling from the smell. ¡°Ugh,¡± she gagged. ¡°Can¡¯t you just do that cleaning magic of yours?¡±

    ¡°I could~¡± Autumn drawled, twirling her wand about her fingers. ¡°I am feeling much better today. Magically, if not physically.¡± She winced as her sore body complained. Glancing furtively around for any sight of the Nethlia the Cruel, Autumn added. ¡°But Nethlia has ordered me to take it easy with the magic for the next few days. I don¡¯t even want to think about the punishment she¡¯ll cook up if that training is what she thinks is the baseline we need.¡±

    Both girls shuddered at the thought.

    ¡°Right. That¡¯s fair,¡± Pyre said, disappointed.

    Autumn shook her head wryly ¡°No matter. Let¡¯s just bathe and meet back up at your tent, yeah?¡±

    <hr>

    The pair bathed quickly, neither wishing to linger long in the icy river.

    At this stage of their journey together, there was little shyness shared between the girls. Seeing one another covered in blood and guts desensitized one to simple things like nudity. It was no more awkward to Autumn than showering in a locker room back in highschool.

    Still, she kept her eyes to herself as they bathed.

    Speaking of ¡ª Autumn marveled at the smoothness of her body. Having her body hair removed was one of the best decisions she¡¯d ever made. She shuddered to think how wild her legs would¡¯ve become this far from proper maintenance without it.

    Likely as wild as her raven locks had become.

    While she understood commerce and the value of products designed for repeat customers, Autumn still grumbled about the hair-straightening potion wearing off as she struggled to wrestle her hair into some semblance of order. When they got back home, she was definitely commissioning Pyre to make a permanent version for her, no matter the cost. It¡¯d be worth it.

    Once they were finally clean and looking marginally more civilized, the pair retreated to Pyre¡¯s tent.

    It stood alone. Separated from the others to its own corner of the encampment. Likely as a safety precaution, Autumn mused, judging by the plumes of noxious smoke wafting up from a mess of alchemical flasks, alembics, retorts, and other such glassware that held bubbling, boiling, and bursting solutions.

    Glancing around, Autumn recognized the disjointed mess of glassware cluttering Pyre¡¯s tent as those they¡¯d liberated from the tower, albeit in pieces now rather than the single towering monstrosity it¡¯d been back then. The party must¡¯ve retrieved it from her belt as she¡¯d slept. The knowledge it was there bypassing the obscuration enchantment it held. By the same vein, they¡¯d been unable to find the poisons only Autumn had knowledge of.

    Quite the handy enchantment.

    As she carefully picked her way through the haphazard arrangement of alchemical equipment following in Pyre¡¯s wake, Autumn spied her black cauldron resting within the alchemist¡¯s lab. Inside, a strange glowing concoction bubbled and spat.

    ¡°Be careful of that,¡± Pyre warned Autumn as she stared at the spitting mixture. ¡°The fumes¡¯ll take your eyebrows off if you get too close.¡±

    Quickly, Autumn backed away.

    Reaching into her smaller belt-pouch, she withdrew the small box containing the drow poisons. She held it out to Pyre. ¡°Here you go. One order of poisons delivered as requested. Ten vials in total. I¡¯ll just need your signature, mam,¡± Autumn said jokingly.

    Pyre ignored her. Taking the box from Autumn¡¯s hands, she flipped open the lid to look at the ten vials of clear liquid inside.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know what they do,¡± Autumn added with a shrug. ¡°But I found them in a drow armory, so¡­¡±

    ¡°So they¡¯re likely made from spider venom,¡± Pyre finished Autumn¡¯s unspoken question. ¡°Possibly with a feybane aspect too.¡±

    ¡°Feybane? Does that do what I think it does?¡±

    Pyre hummed as she looked around her cluttered tent for a place to stash the box. Not finding such, she gave up and just sat it atop her already overburdened bed.

    Autumn wondered how the other girl slept with it in such a state.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Poorly, if she had to guess.

    ¡°If you¡¯re thinking it¡¯s a poison tailor-made to harm a specific race or species, then yes,¡± Pyre snarked. She turned to Autumn curiously. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t happen to have any samples from the hag you encountered? Blood or hair would work.¡±

    ¡°Can¡¯t say I do,¡± Autumn shook her head. ¡°I was mostly focused on escaping intact.¡±

    ¡°Pity. About the lack of samples, not about you having to escape. It¡¯d¡¯ve been much easier killing one if we had hagbane poisons. I¡¯ll do my best to make something close, but without any parts of a hag to add¡­¡± Pyre shrugged. ¡°The best I could do is refine the feybane to be stronger. We¡¯ll have to see if it¡¯ll affect a hag. Likely not, so don¡¯t get your hopes up.¡±

    ¡°Is there any way I can help?¡± Autumn asked, glancing around the messy collection of reagents. ¡°I have some highschool chem and home economics knowledge. Not much ¡ª they weren¡¯t my favorite classes, but I could prep the ingredients.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡±

    ¡°Come on~¡± Autumn tried not to whine. ¡°I need to do something if I can¡¯t use magic. If not, I¡¯ll go stir crazy! ¡­.err, well, crazier. Nethlia¡¯s already left to hunt and I don¡¯t know where the others went. Please~¡±

    ¡°Fine!¡± Pyre snapped, one eye twitching. Grabbing a wooden chopping-board and copper knife from her scattered supplies, she thrust them towards Autumn before gesturing over to a precariously stacked pile of jars and containers. ¡°Fine, you can grab some reagents and help me prepare them. But! Don¡¯t waste any! We¡¯ve none to spare.¡±

    Autumn, simply happy to be doing something, didn¡¯t mind the attitude she¡¯d received from the twitchy Alchemist. She calmly took the proffered chopping-board and knife from Pyre and moved over to a relatively clean space to work.

    <hr>

    Between the pair, they methodically cut, diced, chopped, and crushed the various alchemical reagents and ingredients to Pyre¡¯s high standards as the morning wore on.

    Calling them ¡®high¡¯ standards was underselling it. The firestarter alchemist had very very specific ways she wanted every ingredient prepared and made absolutely sure Autumn was made painfully aware each time she messed up. To make matters worse, these methods often differed vastly between ingredients for no discernible reason.

    What the fuck was the difference between finely chopped and finely chopped anyway?!

    They were the same word, for crying out loud!

    Perhaps it was a discord of their respective crafts, but Autumn utterly despised the process. Of the few witchbrews she¡¯d read, the recipes often just said ¡ª a bit of this, and a pinch of that.

    Thankfully, by the time noon rolled around, both the number of alchemical reagents left to process and Pyre¡¯s anxiety levels had decreased. No longer was she twitching and snapping at every noise. The pall that¡¯d hung upon her had abated somewhat.

    Autumn was just glad she¡¯d not punched the obnoxious teenage alchemist.

    When the final batch of potions were set to brewing, Pyre finally took a moment to relax. Yet, looking her over, there was clearly something weighing upon her. She couldn¡¯t seem to sit still ¡ª her foot kept bouncing as she tapped a discordant rhythm into her thigh. Often she¡¯d glance over at Autumn, eyes flickering nervously between Autumn¡¯s face and her belt.

    Taking a modicum of revenge for how Pyre¡¯d bitched about her mangling of the rust-roots, Autumn was content to wait for her to bring up whatever was bothering her.

    Finally, after a long moment of dithering from the flame-headed girl, Pyre spoke haltingly. ¡°Um, Autumn?¡±

    ¡°Yes? That is my name, isn¡¯t it?¡± Autumn drawled, smirking.

    Pyre huffed. ¡°I wanted to ask you something. A favor? No, a request.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡±

    ¡°Well, I was thinking I could look over those mythic potions again ¡ª the Pure Haste and Divine Essence ones. You see, I was thinking we could all have a couple if I diluted them down enough. They¡¯d still be powerful,¡± Pyre reassured her hurriedly, ¡°just lesser versions. It¡¯d be far more beneficial if we had multiple lesser haste or divine healing potions rather than a singular, powerful one we¡¯d likely never use.¡±

    Autumn reluctantly nodded, remembering all the games her parents had played where they¡¯d ended up with an inventory full of items and potions saved ¡®just in case.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m confident I can do it! I just need a chance to show you!¡±

    At the end of her spiel, Pyre was slightly out of breath and there was a magic gleam in her fiery eyes. For a moment, Autumn thought she saw a flash in Pyre¡¯s fey-touched eye, but it was over in an instant.

    ¡°Hmm, have you asked Nethlia?¡± Autumn asked. ¡°I¡¯m not against giving them to you, but you need to run these things by her first.¡±

    ¡°Yes?¡± Pyre blinked. ¡°I mean ¡ª yes, I did. She told me I could and said I could ask you for them. So, can I have them?¡±

    Autumn squinted suspiciously at Pyre. Something seemed off about the twitchy alchemist, and Autumn thought she knew what.

    ¡°Pyre, when was the last time you slept?¡±

    ¡°Sleep?¡± Pyre blinked confused at the non-sequitur.

    ¡°Yes, that time when we close our eyes for six to eight hours a day, depending on race, of course. You know, sleep,¡± Autumn snarked. ¡°When was the last time you took a break?¡±

    Pyre scowled at Autumn¡¯s sass. Crossing her arms over her chest, she spoke curtly. ¡°I don¡¯t need to take a break. Can¡¯t. There¡¯s too much work to do! That¡¯s what stamina potions are for. Why? Did you want some? I¡¯m sure I¡¯ve got some spare around here somewhere.¡±

    ¡°Damn it, Pyre! You need to take a break. Sleep or something. We all need to be at our peak if we want to survive!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me what to do!¡± Pyre snarled, her flaming hair roaring high, the gleam in her green eye back. ¡°You¡¯re not my dad! You don¡¯t get to order me about!¡±

    Inside the cramped tent, a chaotic maelstrom of fear and righteous anger swirled.

    Autumn left it alone for now. She didn¡¯t fancy the idea of being stuck in an environment filled with high explosives and a pyromaniac alchemist fueled only by anger.

    Still, she smirked. ¡°Not my dad? Really?¡±

    Flushing, Pyre turned away. ¡°Whatever,¡± she scoffed, idly picking through her notes as she ignored Autumn. ¡°I¡¯ll sleep when I have to. Just leave me alone.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s the nightmares, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    Pyre froze. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    Beneath the shade of her rat-chewed hat, Autumn hummed sadly. Picking up a familiar fresh pottle of healing balm, she idly rolled it between her palms as she spoke. ¡°Did you know I don¡¯t dream anymore?¡± Autumn asked, garnering a curious shake of the other girl¡¯s head. ¡°Well, at least not normal dreams, I don¡¯t. It all just goes into my hat. So I can¡¯t say I know what you¡¯re feeling right now. Not anymore. But I have been there before. So, I won¡¯t give you any meaningless platitudes or reassurances as I¡¯d not want to hear them either.¡±

    Holding up the pottle, Autumn awkwardly asked, ¡°uh, hey, can I have this? I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be able to move in the morning without it.¡±

    Pyre blinked, a few stray tears sizzling from the heat of her eyes. ¡°Oh, yeah sure ¡ª Nethlia had me make some for everyone. Thinking about it, that should¡¯ve been a sign.¡± She sighed, covering her eyes. ¡°She¡¯s not going to give us a break tomorrow, is she?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Autumn popped her ¡®p¡¯ as she pocketed the balm.

    Looking over the tired form of Pyre, Autumn carefully spoke. ¡°If you want me to take away your nightmares, I can.¡±

    Pyre shook her head, looking resolutely towards Autumn. ¡°No thank you. I can handle it.¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s no shame in asking for help,¡± Autumn reassured the younger girl. ¡°Nethlia did. Do you think she¡¯s weak?¡±

    For a moment, Pyre hesitated, bordering on the cusp of accepting Autumn¡¯s outstretched hand. Yet, at the last second she withdrew into herself. ¡°Thanks, but no thanks. I¡¯ll make something for myself later.¡± She paused, before continuing with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll sleep. I promise. Just¡­give me space, alright?¡±

    ¡°Sure,¡± Autumn sighed. Reaching into her pouches, she withdrew the pair of ornate potions and placed them carefully atop Pyre¡¯s workstation. ¡°I¡¯ll give you space. Try not to overwork yourself, yeah? I want us all to make it home in one piece. Just be careful with these.¡±

    Pyre scoffed as she picked one of the potions up. ¡°I¡¯m the expert here. I don¡¯t tell you witchcraft, do I?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Autumn sighed. She already regretted being nice to the surly teen.

    <hr>

    Like a triumphant hero, Nethlia returned to camp, a massive carcass of a bear slung over her shoulders. Steam boiled off the grinning berserker¡¯s sculpted body in waves as blood ran down her taut muscles from deep claw rents and wounds. No weapons bar her own natural ones did the statuesque demoness carry.

    From what she could see, Nethlia had strangled the bear to death like some Greek legend of old.

    Heat built up in Autumn¡¯s core at the sight.

    A sudden thought sprung up in the witch¡¯s mind. One she couldn¡¯t help but share with Pyre beside her.

    ¡°Hey, Pyre~¡± Autumn said as innocently as she could.

    Pyre saw right through the ruse. She glared up at Autumn¡¯s sly grin. Growling, she spoke a warning. ¡°Do not!¡±

    Autumn simply ignored her. Revenge perhaps for earlier? ¡°Say, if Nethlia killed the bear without weapons. Does that mean she did it with her¡ª¡±

    ¡°Seriously, stop! I¡¯ll turn you green or something, you witch!¡±

    "¡ªbare hands?¡±

    Pyre blankly glared at Autumn as the witch chuckled to herself. ¡°You¡¯re the worst. You know that, right?¡±

    Autumn grinned. Slapping Pyre gently on the back, she set off to meet the fountain of pride that was her towering berserker lover. ¡°Come on, Nethlia¡¯ll need help to skin that beast. Maybe we can make a hood from its hide for her?¡±

    ¡°Hey! Answer me! You know that you¡¯re the absolute worst, right?!¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen: Build-a-Bear

    Unsurprisingly, Autumn didn¡¯t know how to field dress a bear. Not even a little one. Wilderness survival, fantasy themed or otherwise, hadn¡¯t been one of her elective classes in highschool. All she¡¯d gotten was track and home ec. Granted, she loved track, but knowing how to survive being flung into another world would¡¯ve been nice.

    Thankfully for her lackluster education, Nethlia was more than willing to give her a hands-on lesson.

    Proudly, the demoness strode into the encampment, back unbowed by the massive carcass slung over her broad, naked shoulders. The noble beast had to weigh at least 450 pounds, yet Nethlia was undaunted by the weight. A testament to her heroic strength.

    Autumn watched on in silent awe as Nethlia approached.

    The towering demoness shouldered the carcass down before the dark-eyed witch with nary a grunt of exertion. Seemingly, the mighty warrior had strangled the majestic beast to death. Only mud and blood matted its pristine hide.

    While the bear bore no wounds, the same could not be said of Nethlia. Great claw wounds ran down the berserker¡¯s arms, streaming bright blood down her red skin.

    The sight of such shocked Autumn from her trance.

    Gasping, she rushed over to the wounded demoness. ¡°You¡¯re hurt!¡± Autumn accused frantically. Concern warred with pride in her breast as she fretted over her victorious lover.

    Nethlia blinked in confusion, glancing down at her wounded arms. ¡°Huh, so I am,¡± she spoke curiously before favoring Autumn with a reassuring smile. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. It looks worse than it is.¡±

    Despite the berserker¡¯s roguish smile and confident tone, Autumn was not reassured. She stretched out a hand to heal Nethlia¡¯s wounds.

    ¡°Let me heal you.¡±

    Before Autumn¡¯s outstretched hand could touch her hot, blood-slick skin, Nethlia gently caught Autumn¡¯s wrist. Quietly, firmly, she spoke. ¡°Hey, didn¡¯t I tell you to rest? You needn¡¯t bother with these little cuts ¡ª I¡¯ll stitch them up later. You just take it easy.¡±

    Autumn blushed, but glared up into Nethlia¡¯s bright orange eyes. ¡°Nethlia. Don¡¯t push your luck. While I like you taking care of me, it goes both ways. If I want to heal you, then I will. So, let go of my hand, shut up, and sit down, please.¡±

    Nethlia chuckled at Autumn¡¯s commanding tone, but obediently obeyed. ¡°Alright, alright.¡±

    When the bloodied demoness finally sat down before her, Autumn reached out and placed her pale hands upon one of Nethlia¡¯s bulging biceps. However, she paused before casting her spell and spoke apologetically to the demoness.

    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ve not gotten around to making the spell painless yet. Sorry. This might hurt a bit.¡±

    Nethlia smiled. ¡°I think I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Autumn nodded. Concentrating, she poured a stream of violet magic into Nethlia¡¯s injured body through her own. A twinge of pain accompanied the flow, skittering down her arms like thousands of pins. Fighting back a wince, Autumn deepened her focus and weaved her healing spell into being. Thankfully, it coalesced without issue, granting the dark-haired witch brief control over Nethlia¡¯s torn flesh.

    Embarrassingly, Nethlia had been right. Despite the grim visage her wounds portrayed, they were superficial in damage. Somehow, none of the bear¡¯s clawing strikes had carved deeper than the berserker¡¯s scar-clad skin. Still, Autumn took her time stitching the wounds together.

    Molding Nethlia¡¯s thick flesh was a tough task. Like working iron after only having experienced clay before. Her skin was thick with scar tissue and stronger besides.

    Nethlia stoically endured the pain and discomfort of Autumn¡¯s exploratory healing with nary a whimper or grimace.

    Once she was done, Autumn withdrew her touch, panting slightly as the spell faded.

    ¡°There,¡± she said out of breath. ¡°All done.¡±

    Nethlia turned her arm over, curiously admiring the fresh scars adorning her. Unfortunately, they hadn¡¯t healed as much as Autumn would¡¯ve liked, having overtaxed herself near the end, leaving them still raw and red. The demoness didn¡¯t seem to mind. She favored Autumn with an honest smile.

    ¡°Thanks, but you really didn¡¯t need to do that.¡±

    Autumn blushed. ¡°Yeah, but I wanted to.¡±

    ¡°Urgh, can you two not?¡± Pyre interrupted, making gagging sounds from beside them. ¡°I don¡¯t want to hear you two flirting. Do it on your own time.¡±

    Autumn jumped slightly, having forgotten Pyre was still here. Reluctantly tearing her eyes away from an amused Nethlia, she rounded on the alchemist, face bright red. ¡°We weren¡¯t flirting! I was just making sure she was ok!¡±

    ¡°Uh, huh. Sure~¡± Pyre drawled dryly.

    Seeing an argument brewing between the two girls, Nethlia stood up, grabbing the pair¡¯s attention as she spoke. ¡°Alight. Enough of that. No more fighting, okay? Let¡¯s just process the bear before it cools. Have any of you gutted a bear before?¡±

    Both girls shook their heads.

    ¡°City girl,¡± Pyre said. ¡°Never been out of the city before now.¡±

    Autumn nodded in agreement. ¡°Same, but it was a small town for me. Well, small for my world. I¡¯ve not gutted anything not brought from a store.¡±

    ¡°And you¡¯ve not done so since coming to our world?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°Nope. The only thing I¡¯ve caught was a snake and I gave that to you. Since then, I¡¯ve been eating rations, whatever you¡¯ve cooked, or¡­other things.¡± Autumn shuddered. ¡°The less said about that the better.¡±

    Nethlia huffed, rubbing her eyes. ¡°This really should¡¯ve been something we covered. I guess I got so wrapped up in fighting techniques I forgot about it.¡±

    ¡°Hey, learning to fight was important. It probably saved my life, and Pyre¡¯s too.¡±

    Pyre nodded in agreement.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Nethlia nodded slowly. Reaching over, she hauled the massive bear onto its back, splaying it out before them. Autumn idly noted it was a male bear. ¡°Well, here¡¯s your first lesson then. Once you¡¯ve killed an animal or other such beast you wish to butcher, you need to remove the guts quickly so that it can cool lest the meat spoils. As we want to keep the hide, you need a sharp knife and clean cuts.¡±

    Taking said sharp knife in hand, Nethlia methodically cut a hole around the bear¡¯s vent before slitting it smoothly up the middle from groin to neck in one go, spilling its steaming guts into the open air.

    Autumn gagged at the smell.

    ¡°Now, you want to be careful not to pierce the intestines,¡± Nethlia continued, reaching elbow deep into the bear''s guts to remove the intestines for them. ¡°Getting shit in the meat will spoil it. Plus, we want to save the intestines for casings once we wash them out. Here, help me with this,¡± she said, holding out a pile of organs for Autumn to take. ¡°Spool it out on the spare hides we¡¯ve got.¡±

    Swallowing down her nausea, Autumn swiftly shucked off her coat and, sans sleeves, took the hot, sticky organs from Nethlia. Gagging slightly, she carefully spread them over the clean hides.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    While Autumn did so, Nethlia quickly and cleanly harvested the other lower organs from the carcass.

    Those with alchemical properties were given to Pyre while the richer, heavier delicacies she kept to be cooked later. Given that it was a male bear, Nethlia even harvested the bear¡¯s testicles.

    Autumn declined Nethlia''s generous offer to share. While she was far more adventurous now, she wasn¡¯t that adventurous.

    Following the lower organs, Nethlia methodically separated the bear¡¯s diaphragm from its ribs before extracting its heart, lungs, and esophagus.

    Holding the sizable organ in her hands, Nethlia offered it up to Autumn. ¡°You know, they say eating a bear¡¯s heart raw is good for one¡¯s valor. It¡¯ll make you brave, they say. Want to give it a try?¡±

    Autumn wrinkled her nose as she leant away. ¡°Who says these things?¡±

    ¡°Wise women,¡± Nethlia said with a shrug as she placed the heart aside with the bear¡¯s kidneys and liver. ¡°It¡¯s usually wise women who spout that kind of nonsense. It actually tastes quite good. Cooked, that is. I¡¯ll make you some later.¡±

    ¡°Sounds¡­nice?¡±

    ¡°It is,¡± Nethlia reassured her. ¡°But first we need to skin the beast. Pay attention ¡ª if you¡¯re not careful, you can ruin the hide.¡±

    Taking up her sharp knife once more, Nethlia cleanly cut lines down the inside of the bear¡¯s legs to its paws before sliding the blade gently between the skin and meat. Swiftly, she flayed the beast, teaching them how to do so without nicking or cutting the hide in the process. Before too long, Nethlia had the entire pristine pelt cut from the carcass and handed over to Pyre to treat alchemically. The smaller girl buckled under the weight, almost collapsing onto the ground.

    While Pyre staggered back to her tent with the pelt, Nethlia showed Autumn how to butcher the beast. She showed her how to slice the fat cleanly away from the meat to be used as lard and also how to remove the meat from the bones, seeing as how Autumn wanted them intact.

    Every cut the berserker made was immaculate.

    When there was no more meat to cut, Autumn took the bones away to the cookfire, and after fetching buckets of water from the river, she set the cookpot to rolling boil.

    The next few hours saw Autumn carefully dunking the bones into the boiling pot to clean off the leftover bits of gristles still clinging to the bones. While she could¡¯ve done so with magic, she didn¡¯t want to run the risk of damaging the bones nor garnering Nethlia¡¯s ire.

    On the plus side, by the time she¡¯d finished, Autumn had made a nice bone broth ready for Nethlia to use, even if it came at the cost of a bit of fun cackling.

    What? She had to! A witch stirring bones in a cauldron required a good cackle or two.

    <hr>

    Later that night, the party ate like kings.

    Sat around the crackling fire upon thrones of stones and wooden stumps, they happily gorged themselves on the massive banquet of bear-based dishes Nethlia¡¯d crafted for them. There were so many dishes, Autumn almost didn¡¯t know where to start. While a vast majority of them were heavy on the meat, not all were.

    Using the bear fat, Nethlia had expertly cooked a stunning variety of vegetarian options for both Nelva and Autumn. They being the only ones of the group who couldn¡¯t survive off an only meat diet. Apparently, a Manus could live off just meat and beer. Or just beer, if Edwyn could be believed.

    Autumn wasn¡¯t entirely sure they were joking.

    Not knowing what was good, and feeling a little adventurous, Autumn tried a little of everything.

    While the sweet-and-sour stir-fry and the red-braised cubed bear-steaks tasted heavenly on her tongue, Autumn would kill, literally kill, for another bite of the pepper-and-mushroom pulled-bear rolls. She eyed Liddie¡¯s plate for the briefest of moments as she considered violence.

    Liddie glared back as she shielded her prize from avaricious eyes.

    Thankfully for the sanctity of the camp, and their current dearth of magical dry-cleaning to get the blood out of their clothes, Nethlia distracted Autumn with another plateful of food. This time, a heaping bowl full of an aromatic simmering broth teeming with thinly sliced meats, flavorful mushrooms, soft vegetables, and glistening dumplings.

    ¡°Here, try some of this,¡± Nethlia said, holding a bowl out for Autumn to take as she stepped between the witch and pirate.

    Like a fugitive given a chance at freedom, Liddie quickly devoured the last roll once Nethlia broke Autumn¡¯s line of sight on her, fearing a curse sent her way should it remain in play.

    Autumn pouted. Turning her attention to the bowl Nethlia handed her, Autumn questioned the cook, whom sat down beside her.

    ¡°What is it?¡±

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s a traditional Inferni dish called a Firepot. There aren¡¯t any set ingredients ¡ª you just cook what you like in a simmering pot of spiced broth. This time, it¡¯s made from the bone broth you made and some spices we picked up back in the city.¡± Leaning in closer, Nethlia whispered. ¡°I also added a few heart-and-liver dumplings to yours.¡± She winked.

    Blushing, Autumn took a trepidatious bite of the spiced bear meat. Almost instantly, her face flushed bright red as the spices set her mouth aflame.

    ¡°Too spicy?¡± Nethlia asked, clearly holding back laughter as Autumn¡¯s eyes teared up.

    Wordlessly, Autumn nodded in fiery pain.

    ¡°Wait here. I¡¯ll be right back.¡± After saying such, Nethlia strode over to Liddie and whispered to the pirate. While she grumbled at whatever was requested of her, Liddie withdrew a clay bottle from her bag in the end, handing it begrudgingly over to Nethlia. After pouring out some amber liquid into a wooden cup, she strode back to Autumn and pressed the cup into the witch¡¯s hand. ¡°Here, drink this. It should help.¡±

    Unable to speak, Autumn down a large gulp. As the harsh, foul-tasting liquid hit her throat, she couldn¡¯t help but cough.

    ¡°What¡ªwhat is that?! It¡¯s worse than mosswine!¡±

    Nethlia laughed as she sat back down beside Autumn, grabbing her own bowl of the spicy stew. She gave a hum of appreciation at the burn. ¡°It¡¯s a liquor of some kind. Don¡¯t know what. Liddie stole some from the tavern we stayed at,¡± she gave Autumn a what-can-you-do shrug. ¡°Normally, I¡¯d give you a cup of Agoroth milk to cut through the spice, but we work with what we got. Anyway, what do you think of the dumplings? Have you tried them yet?¡±

    Autumn had not.

    Gingerly, she scooped one up and gave it a venturesome bite. Rich flavor immediately spilled forth into her mouth as the dumpling¡¯s skin burst between her teeth. The heavy taste of liver and heart mixed wonderfully with the heady mixture of spices and broth.

    Surprising herself, Autumn found she rather enjoyed the taste. She vowed to be a bit more trusting of Nethlia¡¯s culinary recommendation in the future.

    She still wasn¡¯t eating any bear testicles though, no matter how good a cook the berserker was.

    Autumn underestimated just how much meat an active team of mostly carnivorous adventurers could go through in a single sitting. While they¡¯d still be having smoked bear sausages, minced patties, and a heap of jerky for the next couple of days, the party had somehow gotten through almost 10lbs of the almost 90lbs of meat they¡¯d harvested from the massive bear.

    By the end of the night, it was a sleepy, slightly tipsy, Autumn that retired to her tent to sleep off her meal alongside both Eme and Nethlia.

    <hr>

    The next morning came hard and fast, dragging a sluggish and sore Autumn into its hellish embrace. Once more, she toughed her way through Nethlia¡¯s grueling training, this time paired up with Liddie to go over her footwork and disarming techniques with the rogue.

    Once she¡¯d quickly bathed away the grime and sweat clinging to her in the icy stream, Autumn retreated to where she¡¯d stashed the cleaned bones the night bore.

    There, she excitedly got to work.

    It was like a ghoulish puzzle, putting the bear back together. Spinning off long threads of fear like she¡¯d done before, Autumn stitched the pale bones, weaving them together with shadowy muscles and tendons. Piece by piece, she formed it into a skeletal frame, hung aloft before her like a puppet hanging by its strings.

    If that was all she wished to create, it¡¯d be fine. She¡¯d have a terrifying creation to pull their future war-wagon. One that never tired. Never spooked nor ran.

    All she needed to do now was breathe a shadowy semblance of life into it and she¡¯d be done.

    But Autumn wasn¡¯t satisfied with just this ¡ª she wanted something¡­more.

    As she slowly circled the skeletal bear, Autumn took the leftover bones from her previous two mounts and reinforced the ursine frame with measured intent. Wishing to create a grand beast capable of seeing them through the battles to come, she thickened the bones of the bear¡¯s neck and skull, forming large overlapping plates that continued down its jagged spine.

    Satisfied, she next expanded the ribcage.

    The overlapping wider rib-bones created an enclosed storage space within the hollow of the bear¡¯s chest. While she didn¡¯t know what to store within it just yet, there was just enough space for her to curl up inside, if she so wished. It took a while for her to work the overlapping plates until the bear retained just enough flexibility to turn or rise with only minor difficulty.

    However, with the added weight, Autumn needed to bulk up the bear¡¯s legs lest they snap or it became prone to toppling over.

    First, she thickened the bear¡¯s leg bones to almost three times their original size, having to adjust the hips, shoulders and knees to accommodate them. She then next widened the already enormous paws to terrifying sizes, complete with enlarged, razor-sharp claws to give her creation as much traction and lethality as she could.

    The last thing she did was to craft a set of thick D-rings directly onto the sides of the bear¡¯s jaw where a bit would go, creating loops for the others to thread the reins through later.

    Taking a step back from her monstrous creation, Autumn watched as the undeath animation spell completed, awaking the massive armored beast to her unholy will.

    Black smoke poured freely from the bear¡¯s eyes and jaw, spilling onto the ground like mist as it lumbered to life. It turned towards Autumn, a dark gleam flashing in its hollow sockets as it recognized its creator. On thick, powerful limbs, it plodded towards Autumn, lowering its armored head gently into Autumn¡¯s palm.

    A sinister rumbling vibrated Autumn¡¯s body as the bear chuffed happily at her touch.

    ¡°I think I¡¯ll call you¡­Ursa Ossa.¡± Autumn smiled at her joke.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty: Scouting Things Out for Once

    The incessant whine of mosquito-like bugs and other such irksome irritants filled the damp air around Autumn as she fought her way through riotous blooms. All around her, the floruit of bright alien colors and blossoming flowers threatened to steal the path from beneath her very feet.

    Doggedly, Autumn pressed on through the efflorescence, following a pirate¡¯s practiced footsteps.

    Liddie had braved this leafy overgrowth a few times already. So it was with confidence that she now skillfully led Autumn along a pre-marked route towards a grim battlefield unseen.

    Neither had spoken much since they¡¯d departed the safety of their encampment. Not so much as to avoid being overhead by the denizens of the lush fey jungle, but because they could scarcely hear themselves think over the raucous cacophony of buzzing insects, croaking frogs, roaring beasts, and mayhem of bird calls, let alone converse with one another.

    Thankfully, the closer they got to where the battlefield lay, the quieter it got, the creatures lurking in the jungle wisely fleeing such a dangerous direction, unlike the foolish pair.

    Autumn swatted at the bravest bugs swarming her for the umpteenth time today as she followed in Liddie¡¯s wake. Neither Pyre¡¯s alchemical insect repellent nor her own aura of fear could dissuade these nuisances from their suicidal assault.

    Bored out of her mind, Autumn spoke into the growing lull.

    ¡°So, what¡¯s it like being a pirate?¡±

    Liddie snickered at Autumn¡¯s question. ¡°That¡¯s your opening? Trying to dig up my tragic backstory, are you?¡±

    Blushing, Autumn glared sullenly at the back of Liddie¡¯s head. ¡°So? I¡¯ve never met a pirate before. Did you want me to ask something deep and meaningful off the top of my head?¡±

    ¡°No, no. It¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll talk ¡ª you can stop glaring at me now,¡± Liddie chuckled, raising her hands in surrender.

    ¡°How can you tell? You didn¡¯t even look.¡±

    ¡°I feel it in my bones,¡± Liddie shuddered, before turning to wink at Autumn. ¡°Besides, I¡¯ve ample experience with cute girls glaring at me. I¡¯ve honed it into another sense.¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes. ¡°Can you just answer the question?¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. What did you want to know?¡±

    Mulling over her thoughts, Autumn spoke slowly. ¡°You said you grew up in Brokenship Bay, right? What¡¯s it like?¡±

    Liddie grimaced, spitting off to the side of the path. ¡°A shithole ¡ª that¡¯s what it¡¯s like. Port Brokenship is a loose collection of shitty homes, shops, and far too many taverns and brothels ruled over by even shitter gangs. And atop that shitpile of epic proportions is another shithead that calls themselves a ¡®pirate king,¡¯¡± she sneered the name.

    ¡°It¡¯s not a real title,¡± Liddie shared at Autumn¡¯s questioning look. ¡°Not really ¡ª more of a bought one like a merchant king. Not that¡¯d you¡¯d live very long if you said such in the bay. There¡¯s a fair bit of murder and extortion that goes into electing a new king after the last one ¡®accidentally¡¯ fell onto their blade a couple of times or took a tumble off their balcony ¡ª also somehow ¡®accidentally.¡¯¡±

    ¡°And you never tried out for the position? Weren¡¯t you some kind of pirate hero or something?¡± Autumn asked curiously.

    Liddie snorted. ¡°Me? In charge of that corpse pile? No. Not for me. I like my back unstabbed, thank you very much. Plus, you kind of need a pirate ship to be a pirate captain, and only pirate captains have a chance to be a pirate king. It¡¯s in the name.¡±

    ¡°Right. Yours sunk. The¡­Drunken Naive, was it?¡±

    ¡°You remembered? Good on you, I guess,¡± Liddie shrugged. ¡°Yeah, it sank. Taken down to the depths by Ol¡¯ Shipeater himself. All hands lost, even me at one point. Had to carve my way out from his insides.¡± She punctuated her statement by drawing and playfully slashing her mithril blade at an imaginary kraken.

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡±

    Liddie sighed sadly as she resheathed her blade. ¡°Yeah, she was a good ship. I still miss her.¡±

    Autumn stared blankly at the morose demoness. ¡°I meant the crew.¡±

    ¡°Oh them? They were scum ¡ª I¡¯m glad they''re dead,¡± Liddie said heartlessly. ¡°More glory and gold for me. And I get to tell the story how I like it without anyone to say otherwise,¡± she winked.

    An awkward silence stole over the pair.

    Keen to move on from that grim topic, Autumn returned to the previous conversational thread. ¡°Uh, so that¡¯s where you grew up? Port Brokenship, I mean. It sounds terrible.¡±

    ¡°Eh, it wasn¡¯t all that bad. Not good, but not completely awful. I have fond memories of watching the treasure-laden ships returning to harbor, their hulls low in the water. Of how the crews would wash upon shore like the endless waves, pockets full of gold ripe for the picking. Oh, don¡¯t look at me like that ¡ª they were going to piss it away in the taverns or whorehouses anyway. I was doing them a favor by keeping them away from those vices.¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t judging,¡± Autumn said judgingly.

    Liddie squinted at Autumn before huffing. ¡°Well? What more do you want to know?¡±

    ¡°Oh, umm, how did the port get so¡ª¡±

    ¡°So fucked?¡± Liddie finished for her. ¡°You see, the bay was once a penal colony for the empire¡¯s undesirables ¡ª its political exiles and criminals. Over time, those same criminals and their descendants turned the bay into a pirate haven, sheltered as it is by a chain of harsh islands dotted with caves and jagged rocks. The Devil¡¯s Teeth, we call em¡¯. Crews will strike out from the bay to raid the waters of the Western Depths and the Kraken Strait.¡±

    ¡°And the empire hasn¡¯t tried to clear it out?¡±

    Liddie smirked. ¡°They tried. It didn¡¯t go well for them. Without the navigational charts the pirate captains guard zealously, the empire navy ended up just adding more ships to the sunken graveyard. And even if the empire could afford to send troops overland, they¡¯ll never find all the caves and hideaways the pirates would scurry to. That sort of attrition warfare would take decades to resolve. Maybe even centuries.¡±

    ¡°What about adventurers? Do they ever get hired to do something about the pirates?¡±

    ¡°Eh, sometimes,¡± Liddie gestured vaguely. ¡°Every so often a captain or two might run afoul of someone important and get a bounty put on their heads, or some hotheaded adventurer might take it upon themselves to venture there for justice or some such nonsense, but most of the time it¡¯s just not worth it. After all, if adventurers cared for war, we¡¯d be soldiers.¡±

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Autumn hummed. ¡°I¡¯d suppose you¡¯d know. Um, I have to ask, but what were the mermaids like? Were they like the naiads only with fish tails?¡± she asked sheepishly.

    ¡°How would I know?¡± Liddie said casually as she weaved around a tree blocking their path.

    Autumn hurried to follow her. ¡°What? I thought you said you got rescued by mermaids?¡±

    Sheepishly, Liddie looked away, rubbing the back of her neck as she avoided Autumn¡¯s questioning stare. ¡°Ah, I might¡¯ve fibbed a bit. You know, to liven the tale up a bit? It¡¯d be less impressive if I told everyone I got cast adrift for days out on the brine. Being saved by beautiful, gracious mermaids makes the tale more fun, right?¡±

    ¡°So, you lied?¡±

    Autumn tried not to sound too judgmental, given her own recent history with lying.

    ¡°Ahaha, yeah~¡± Liddie sighed. ¡°Actually, the truth is, I got picked up by a mermaid, just not the beautiful type. A slaver ship called the Mermaid¡¯s Chain found me days into my isolation. They captured me. I¡­I don¡¯t want to talk about what I saw aboard, but needless to say, it and its crew never made it back to their harbor,¡± she said grimly before smiling ruefully. ¡°Not really a tale I like to tell, so it¡¯s nicer to say I got rescued by beautiful women instead.¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t know what to say to that.

    Thankfully, blessedly, she didn¡¯t get the chance to.

    Just as Autumn was about to speak, a shrill caw split the air, stealing the words from her tongue.

    Liddie glanced sharply towards the sudden sound, holding up a hand to signal for silence. After a beat, she whispered to Autumn. ¡°Sounds like we¡¯re there. Follow me.¡±

    Autumn did so.

    Stealthily, she followed in Liddie¡¯s wake as they crept towards the growing cacophony thundering in the distance. The cries of crows grew louder and louder as they stalked towards the source till the murder¡¯s call was nearly all Autumn could hear.

    However, under it all beat a steady thrum of combat. The clang of striking blades and rattling shields. The roars of beasts and men and bugle calls. And the ever-present stench of death.

    They¡¯d found war.

    Before long, all that separated Autumn from the carnage was a lush treeline.

    Pushing a leafy frond aside, Autumn got her first look at the battlefield awaiting her.

    A craterous landscape stretched on impossibly to the far horizon, undulating across a myriad of twisted biomes and warped terrains. Deserts of shifting, sun-blasted sands scoured flesh from the bones of those foolish enough to brave it. Forests of burning, shattered trees stood a silent, deathly vigil over nature¡¯s grave. Swamps, choked by blood and festering corpses, buzzed with the drone of wicked insects as they gorged on the bounty violence had provided. Enormous rocky crags lay littered with hundreds, nay, thousands of ruined fortresses of wood or stone, like so many shattered teeth. And through it all, flooded trenches weaved, carving their way through the muddy, blood-soaked earth ¡ª for all the good they¡¯d done the defenders.

    The Wild Hunt had come in hard. With surprise and speed on their side, the vicious riders had scythed through the hag¡¯s amassed forces with ease, shattering their forts and fortresses with might and magic in hand while an enormous elvish host of bannermen, infantry, and archers followed in their wake.

    Yet, their furious advance had quickly stalled once the hag¡¯s own host had rallied.

    And what a host it was.

    Hateful Redcaps danced and sang as they wetted their caps with immortal blood. In green hand both, they brandished crude blades of coldest iron that sought to cruelly carve and cut. Amidst the vile horde¡¯s revelry, their larger kin roamed ¡ª wicked Bugbears with razor claws, surly Ogres wielding broken trees like massive clubs, and even a Troll or two rampaged through this mostly sunless realm.

    Yet this was not all the foul hag Mildred had mustered for murders of crows clouded the skies.

    The furious flocks of enlarged, twisted corvids clashed with untold wings of vicious harpies high above, raining down blood and bodies onto the bleak battlefield below.

    Under the grim crimson rain, grotesque fusions of man and feathered beast fought.

    Maddened eyes shone malevolently above gleaming beaks flecked with fresh elvish blood. Their feathered arms stank of pus and rot as sharpened scythe-like blades emerged from their swollen flesh, bolted painfully to their hollow bones. With warbled calls that decried their insanity and fury, they flung themselves recklessly at the elvish host¡¯s wall of spears and bellowing warhorns.

    The more Autumn looked, the more such abominations she saw.

    Glancing around in awe and terror, she saw Black Griffins winging through the air, tumbling down in screeching fury as they locked themselves talon-to-talon in death spirals with their natural-born cousins. She saw a Crowkatrice¡¯s baleful gaze turn many a beast, goblin, and elf to stone in an instant before a Wild Rider¡¯s lance found its bulging throat, ending it with an ear-splitting cry. She watched as multi-headed Corvid-Chimeras lashed out their insanity with warbling cries at friend or foe alike while ghosty crow-specters reaped whirlwinds of death through the packed elvish ranks with gleaming cold-iron scythes.

    And throughout it all, all the carnage and death, hordes upon hordes of baying crowhounds clawed and snapped at the feyhounds packs that met them in equal ferocity.

    The collected fury of an unnatural war rent the air with its discord.

    Looking beyond that haze of death, beyond the lines of graveyard spears, Autumn saw a hill that shouldn¡¯t be. It stood alone. Untouched. Sheltered from violence by twisting magics and dark spells. And upon its rise sat a wretched home like a sore ¡ª a cancer on reality.

    The Hag¡¯s abode.

    Their destination.

    ¡°We need to fight through that?!¡± Autumn hissed in disbelief to Liddie, struggling to be heard above the roar of battle.

    Liddie nodded. Leaning closer to Autumn, she spoke into her ear. ¡°Yup! It¡¯s suicidal, right? Want to just pack up and go home?¡± she asked hopefully, despite knowing the answer was otherwise.

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°No! We just need to plan and¡ªis that a fucking Crow-Hydra?!¡±

    The pair stared in disbelief at the massive, multi-headed beast rampaging through Fey lines, its many beaks snapping down at the Wild Riders harassing it.

    ¡°Sure looks like it,¡± Liddie drawled. ¡°What would even call something like that? A Crowdra? Hydrow?¡±

    ¡°Nevermind what it''s called! How are we meant to fight something like that?!¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t. We just need to get there,¡± Liddie pointed to the impossible hill. ¡°I¡¯ve been watching it for a few days and nothing has breached it yet. No beasts, no fey, not even a falling body. Once we''re in, we should be safe.¡± Liddie paused. ¡°Well, relatively safe, given who lives there.¡±

    ¡°Right. So our plan, as I understand it, is to weave our way past two massive fuck-off armies, climb a hill that should be, and somehow breach a shield we know nothing about that¡¯s specifically designed to keep things out?¡± Autumn spoke tersely. ¡°Sounds easy.¡±

    Liddie shrugged as she scooted back from the treeline. ¡°Never said it¡¯d be easy. All the planning stuff is all you and your big girl. Me? I just steal stuff. Want something stolen? I¡¯m your gal, but until then, you deal with it. You¡¯re making a war-wagon, right? Just make sure it can get us through that mess.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure! It¡¯s easy when you say it like that,¡± Autumn snarked as she followed Liddie back to camp, casting one last look at the carnage beyond. ¡°I¡¯ll just whip us up a tank, shall I?¡±

    ¡°Sure, sounds fun.¡±

    As the adventurer pair quietly slunk away, bickering goodnaturedly, a pair of summer eyes watched them go from afar. They burned bright with fury and desire. For a moment, they moved to follow only for a gauntleted hand clad gay in green to clamp down upon their owner¡¯s shoulder, pinning her in place with the strength of a thousand men.

    ¡°Yet is not the hour of retribution,¡± spake the green-clad knight. ¡°Wait a moment hence, for your deferred punishment is mine to oversee.¡±

    ¡°Punishment?¡± Growled the summer-eyed maiden. ¡°None hath decried punishment upon I! Doth thee dare to lie?!¡±

    The knight spake not to the barks of the maiden, only watched as the witch departed from afar.

    Heaving a felling axe upon war-clad shoulders, he spake to the air, to the gloom, to the witching hour. ¡°Soon, the hour cometh we shall meet. Where shalt thine deeds lie then? Thou whom betrays fate. Whom spits in destiny¡¯s eye. Shall I be thine foil, thine test. Nay, come, I shall await.¡±

    ¡°Make thine first swing count ¡ª there shalt not be another.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty One: And the Dreadnoughts Dread Nothing at All

    When Autumn had first crafted her sleigh of bones, she¡¯d not done so with war in mind. Its low walls and exposed interior had offered little to no protection for her friends and party as they¡¯d escaped the drow city while under constant fire by arrow, bolt, and magic. Bloodstains and shattered bits of wood still littered the bottom of the craft days later as a testament to their harrowing ordeal.

    Luckily, no one else besides Autumn had suffered more than light wounds during their flight, despite their lack of protection.

    Even so, the lackluster design needed changing.

    Something Autumn was more than willing to do. Not just because of the terrifying grim battlefield still fresh in her mind, but also because the sleigh¡¯s amateurish construction embarrassed her every time she looked at it. To her slightly more experienced eyes, it looked lumpy, lopsided, and frankly, just downright ugly. Having inexpertly cobbled it together in a necromancer¡¯s foyer with whatever mismatched pieces of dragon bone Liddie had brought back for her, it made sense.

    It still made her unhappy to see it, no matter how she justified it.

    So, over the next few days, Autumn roughly sketched out a few ideas in her notebook between her hellish early morning training and various chores Nethlia¡¯d assigned her around camp. Using what she remembered about modern military and advice from Edwyn, she created a design that mixed the two in somewhat harmony.

    Autumn was proud of what she¡¯s created, even if it kinda looked like an APC (Armored Personnel Carrier) had a baby with a castle.

    Elegant and ruthless were the words she was looking for.

    Perhaps brutalist too?

    With her design completed, getting a grunt of approval from Edwyn, Autumn got to work.

    Laying her hand upon ancient bones, Autumn willed her blackcraft to warp and twist the calcic material into the shapes she desired.

    The first thing Autumn did was siphon off the excess material, forming it into white spheres by her side.

    As she¡¯d a limited supply of the stuff, she needed to be judicious in her usage of it. As such, she and Edwyn had devised a triple-layered hull of bone, wood, and hide for their future wagon, both to stretch the supplies of dragonbone and to add greater protection than a single material could supply.

    While Autumn would be the first to admit her knowledge of military history, technology, and tactics was embarrassingly lackluster, she was aware of the phenomenon known as Armor Spalling ¡ª the fragmentation of an armor¡¯s interior produced via shockwaves from powerful concussive strikes propagating through said material, whether that was metal, wood, or in this case, bone.

    Although she didn¡¯t anticipate such an event occurring, it¡¯d be foolish of her not to prepare for such, what with those giant creatures roaming about. Not to mention what magic could do.

    Hopefully, using three layers of different materials would mitigate the danger.

    As such, Autumn had sent Nethlia off once more, this time in search of lumber. Not a tough task.

    Preferably, she¡¯d take some from the non-feywild trees popping up here and there, but Autumn would take what she could get and deal with the consequences later.

    While awaiting the wood, and with sleigh being down only to a hovering base, Autumn set to work creating the frame.

    First, she reforged the thick bones into struts.

    As the bone marrow had long since desiccated, there wasn¡¯t much of a need to keep the now useless cavities. Autumn compressed the bones into themselves, making them even denser whilst still keeping the strong structural properties of the dragon bones as best she could. When she was done, Autumn was left with several long billets and heavy smooth panels of off-white bone.

    Taking several billets, Autumn and Edwyn created a frame upon the hovering base, widening it till three abreast could stand comfortably upon it and five or so could do the same lengthwise.

    Next, Autumn raised a heavy-duty frame up from the base.

    She split the wagon¡¯s walls into two halves horizontally at around waist-high. While the lower half was mostly perpendicular to the wagon¡¯s base, if at a slight outward angle, the upper half turned sharply back towards a high roofline, beneath which even Nethlia could stand unimpeded, if barely.

    The front of the wagon held a more aggressive slant to it, rising up and out like a thick wedge before too turning back towards the roofline, this time further above where the side walls had.

    Autumn made a few minor adjustments to the frame before stepping back satisfied.

    For a moment, she and Edwyn admired the rising behemoth before them.

    ¡°Dannae pat yerself on the back tae much, we ain¡¯t finished yet,¡± Edwyn grumbled.

    Autumn huffed out a breathy laugh before diving back in.

    The next step was to add the heavy armored panels to the skeletal frame. However, as neither of them wanted to lug about needless weight, they unanimously decided to measure and cut out the doors, hatches, viewports, and arrowslits first.

    There were four doors in total ¡ª one to either side of the driver, and a pair at the back. A hatch she added to the roof to let someone to engage fliers through or access any gear they wished to lash to the top. Next, Autumn carefully carved out a series of thin arrowslits equidistantly apart along the length of both sides for the party to fire out from with impunity.

    To actually see where they were going, Autumn carved a long viewport along the width of the front, adding a small lip above to shield the driver from the sun, rain, or descending arrows and bolts. Gaps below the narrow window would feed reins down towards where they¡¯d harness her bear to the wagon via a series of bone D-rings fused to the front.

    With Edwyn advising her, Autumn made quick work creating the thick hinges and pins that¡¯d keep the doors securely in place.

    Autumn doubted the dragon bone pins made by her would ever break ¡ª they felt stronger than steel.

    A simple latch on the insides would keep them locked tight.

    When Nethlia returned, the trio swiftly hauled the heavy panels and doors into place, allowing Autumn to fuse them to the frame.

    ¡°She¡¯s looking good,¡± Nethlia whistled as she gently slapped Autumn on the shoulder.

    Autumn beamed with pride. ¡°Yeah, we just need to do the inside now. Speaking of, how did you fare? No troubles?¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± Nethlia shook her head of shaggy hair. Pointing a thumb over her shoulder, the demoness gestured to a small pile of felled trees. ¡°I just grabbed the ones your bear marked before. I figured, if nothing bothered it, nothing would bother me.¡±

    ¡°Except, you bothered it.¡±

    Nethlia let out a bark of laughter. ¡°True, true. Want me to debark it for you? I¡¯ve got some experience fixing up my old tavern.¡±

    ¡°Could you?¡± Autumn beamed. ¡°My magic would only turn it to mulch, I¡¯m afraid.¡±

    ¡°Sure, but tomorrow ¡ª you¡¯ve been hard at work all day. Edwyn¡¯s already vanished off towards the cookpot. You should too before you collapse.¡±

    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Autumn¡¯s stomach took that moment to declare its discontent with her. A fiery blush bloomed across her pale face at the monstrous noise.

    ¡°See?¡± Nethlia teased.

    ¡°Shut it you!¡±

    Chuckling, Nethlia led Autumn towards the warmth of fire and food. Once they both were seated with a dinner of bear sausages and roasted vegetables, the demoness turned questioningly to Autumn.

    ¡°Hey, I was wondering ¡ª how are you planning to hold the boards in place once I make them? Are you going to make bone nails or something?¡±

    Autumn swallowed her bite before speaking. ¡°Yeah actually. That, and I was going to mold the bone around them. That way, we can replace them later if we need to.¡±

    ¡°What, don¡¯t trust my amazing carpentry skills?¡± Nethlia gave a gasp of mock-offense.

    ¡°You know I didn¡¯t mean it like that,¡± Autumn aggrievedly nudged Nethlia.

    Beside her, Ursa Ossa gave a deep, rumbling whine for attention.

    Idly, Autumn reached over and scratched him behind his rounded bone ears.

    In between making her war-wagon, she¡¯d used some of the excess material to mold a faceplate onto the bear¡¯s skull, building it up to resemble a living bear, complete with rounded ears and long snout. Over time, she planned to add more detail to it, just for fun and practice.

    ¡°Hmm, sure you didn¡¯t.¡± Nethlia chuckled at Autumn¡¯s pout. ¡°By the way, how many crossbows and bolts did you end up grabbing? I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve said.¡±

    Autumn hummed, mentally recounting. ¡°I¡¯d have to check to make sure, but I think it was about twelve crossbows and quivers. Each quiver had about ten to fifteen bolts in them, I think. So, roughly 120 to 150 bolts total. Other than them, I grabbed five swords, about ten knives, and four whips. That, and the poisons, but I already gave them to Pyre.¡±

    ¡°Good haul,¡± Nethlia smiled wryly. ¡°However, I don¡¯t know if the bolts will stretch that far.¡±

    ¡°True. We do have a lot of enemies.¡±

    With a grunt, Edwyn sat down near Autumn with a heaping plate in hand, giving a wary look to Ursa Ossa as they did so.

    The bear huffed back at the Manus.

    ¡°Good work today,¡± Edwyn grunted between bites. ¡°Have ye thought o¡¯ a name for it yet?¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°A name? I thought that was only for ships.¡±

    ¡°For ye aboveground folk maybe, but us deepfolk dinnae have a navy. Oh sure, we got riverways in the deep, but we keep tae the deeproads most o¡¯ the time. And tae traverse ¡®em safely, ye need a convoy wit¡¯ cha. Convoys wit¡¯ war-wagons tae guard ¡®em,¡± Edwyn waved a sausage for emphasis. ¡°Those we name, for luck ¡®n¡¯ such.¡±

    ¡°Any good ones?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Edwyn hummed. ¡°The names we give ¡®em tend towards things found in the deep ¡ª Goblin Crusher, Trollbane, Rock ¡®n¡¯ Stone. That sought o¡¯ thing. As its creator, it¡¯s up tae the witch tae name it.¡±

    ¡°Have you been on many expeditions underground before?¡± Autumn asked curiously.

    ¡°A few,¡± Edwyn hedged. ¡°Back when I was still wit¡¯ my clan, they funded a fair number o¡¯ ¡®em tae seek out lost artifacts ¡®n¡¯ treasures in the ol¡¯ ruins ¡®neath Grudge Mountain and the Ironspine. The last o¡¯ which I was wit¡¯, I found a book o¡¯ ancient runes left by an ancestor, may they work forever in Ondite¡¯s halls.¡± Edwyn made a gesture of respect, touching the back of their fist to their brow.

    ¡°Is that what led you out here? To the north?¡± Nethlia asked.

    A sour look scrunched the Manus¡¯ face. ¡°Nae, twas not a choice o¡¯ mine to leave the mountains. I was banished.¡±

    ¡°Banished?¡± Autumn echoed.

    ¡°Aye. Banished,¡± Edwyn grumbled with a voice like a landslide as they glared into the fire. ¡°My clan is¡ªwas the Brawnbeards. Not a clan well known for their love o¡¯ magic. In fact, they vehemently oppose it ¡®n¡¯ its like. They offered me a choice ¡ª either I gave up the runes or be banished. I chose banishment. The day I left, I swore an oath, a grudge, tae ne¡¯r return unless the clan gave up their foolish disdain for magic and rescinded my banishment or I died.¡±

    Edwyn chuckled mirthlessly. ¡°Neither has come tae pass yet.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that.¡±

    ¡°It is wit¡¯ it is,¡± Edwyn shrugged. ¡°Been a long time since I¡¯ve seen the halls beneath.¡±

    ¡°Do you want to go back someday?¡± Autumn asked.

    Edwyn stared into the fire for sometime, before simply shrugging. ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s been a long time. Anyway, ye come up with a name yet, lassie?¡±

    Autumn hummed a tune beneath her breath as she thought, not minding the abrupt change in topic. ¡°Unopposed under crimson skies; Immortalized, over time their legend will rise~ And their foes can¡¯t believe their eyes; Believe their size, as they fall~ And the dreadnoughts dread nothing at all.¡±

    ¡°How about ¡ª Dreadnought?¡±

    <hr>

    The next morning saw Autumn finishing her now aptly named Dreadnought, having clad its interior with a thin layer of wood and hides.

    Along the walls, in between the arrowslits, she added a series of smooth hooks to mount their crossbows and bolts within easy reach. While below the wooden floor, she¡¯d also added a small hidden compartment to hold their gear. Anything too large to fit, they¡¯d simply tie to the roof and hope for the best.

    Dragonbone. Feywood. All they needed now was a legendary beast¡¯s hide, and they¡¯d have the trifecta.

    Autumn wondered what it¡¯d be, so sure she was that they¡¯d encounter and kill such. Such was their luck. For good or for ill.

    The very last thing Autumn did was to sketch out the start of a mural along the smooth surface of the exterior. A mural that depicted their trials, tribulations, and triumphs ¡ª their departure from Duskfields on a glorious adventure. The burning of Everwatch. Hiding from the Fey-dragon. Their vanquishing of Lord Grungee the Honorable. The assault upon the goblin fortress and their fall at the claws of the Swamp Tyrant. Of their journeys through the darkness ¡ª finding the Tower of Bone and Black-iron and the hell within.

    Autumn sketched her decapitation of the undead angel with a sense of pride and detachment. She gazed over the memories lightly scratched into the bone with wonderment.

    Look at how far they¡¯d come¡ªhow far she¡¯d come. And look how much blank space remained.

    Eme found Autumn soon thereafter, as she was sketching their journey through the Feydark. It didn¡¯t look like much right now, but maybe one day it¡¯d be a work of art marveled over by many.

    ¡°Hey Autumn? Are you busy? There¡¯s something I want to show you.¡±

    Autumn turned away from the mural, favoring the catgirl with a questioning look. ¡°Sure, what¡¯s up?¡±

    Eme¡¯s eyes flickered up in confusion before snapping back to Autumn. ¡°I found something interesting outside camp I wanted to show you. Come on!¡±

    ¡°Is it dangerous?¡± Autumn asked, tucking her pencil behind her ear as she brushed the dust off herself.

    Eme shook her head hastily. ¡°No, no. It¡¯s just a surprise, is all. We won¡¯t go far! Please!¡±

    Autumn smiled in fond amusement as the bard unleashed her grade-A puppy dog eyes on her. ¡°Alright, alright. Put those weapons of mass cuteness away. I¡¯ll follow you.¡±

    ¡°Yay!¡± Eme cheered before shushing herself.

    Furtively, the catgirl bard led Autumn through the camp, ducking behind tents and other such objects to avoid the others seeing them. Not very well, it seemed, as Nethlia quirked an eyebrow at Autumn as they hid near her. Autumn simply shrugged. With an amused huff, Nethlia pretended not to see them as they snuck away from camp.

    To Autumn, they felt like a pair of teens ducking away from class to make out behind the bike-shed. Not that she had any experience with that, sadly. God, she hoped that was what this was.

    Speeding up slightly, Autumn followed Eme as she led them further away from camp into the trees. Not far. Still in earshot, in fact, but just far enough away to be out of sight.

    Eme paused before a thick fern, nodding to herself. Turning to Autumn, she pressed a finger to her smiling lips before pointing past the vegetation.

    Curious, Autumn approached. Pushing aside the fern, she saw a strange, wondrous sight.

    Hundreds of brightly-clad pixies flitted and frolicked through the air in cheerful displays around a pair astride bees the size of Autumn¡¯s fist. As she watched, the bee-riding pair charged at one another with squeaky war cries, leveling sticks towards the other. When they crashed, the gathered pixies cheered.

    It was a pixie tourney, Autumn realized.

    ¡°What do you think they¡¯re doing here?¡± Autumn whispered.

    Eme leaned in closer to Autumn as they watched the aerial jousting. ¡°I think they¡¯ve been following us. Maybe using us for protection? Or just entertainment?¡±

    ¡°Huh, kinda like pilot fish?¡±

    ¡°I suppose?¡± Eme shrugged. ¡°Whatever those are.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re small fish that follow in the wake of larger fish like sharks.¡± Autumn explained as she found a nearby root to sit upon. She pulled a startled catgirl onto her lap as they watched the pixies. ¡°Do you get sharks here? Big predatory fish with lots of jagged teeth.¡±

    ¡°I know what a shark is,¡± Eme huffed. ¡°I grew up on an island, remember? I just didn¡¯t study every little fish there is.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m just surprised how many things translate over between worlds. Divine inspiration, maybe?¡±

    Eme shrugged, ¡°maybe.¡±

    Autumn sat watching the fairy festivities for a while. ¡°Thanks, I needed a break, I think.¡±

    In her lap, Eme blushed shyly. ¡°I know ¡ª you¡¯ve been pushing yourself really hard the last few days. Not that I¡¯m judging you or anything ¡ª I understand the danger before us, but I thought this might be fun.¡±

    Autumn squeezed Eme gently. ¡°It is. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Um, you¡¯ve been asking people a lot about whether they want to go home or not,¡± Eme shyly asked, turning to face Autumn. ¡°Do you? Want to return to your home, that is?¡±

    Sighing quietly, Autumn gazed into Eme¡¯s eyes before turning to gaze out at the cheering pixies.

    She didn¡¯t answer.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Two: Final Touches

    ¡°Again!¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s voice boomed across the training ground as Autumn lay sprawled in the dirt, the towering berserker having knocked her on her ass. Grunting in annoyance, Autumn picked herself back up and settled into her combat stance facing the berserker, wand and knife held at the ready in her grip.

    It¡¯d been a week since Autumn first awoke in the encampment. A week of preparation for the battles to come.

    According to Liddie¡¯s scouting reports, the battle lines between the goblin-crow horde and the fey hadn¡¯t shifted in all that time, and if Death was to be believed, they wouldn¡¯t. Ever. How that worked with the hag in possession of the Tome of Witchcraft, Autumn didn¡¯t know.

    Did it mean that she wouldn¡¯t be able to open the book?

    Did it mean their efforts didn¡¯t matter?

    Autumn couldn¡¯t risk it. She couldn¡¯t wait forever. Prepare forever. As far as she was concerned, every day they took brought the hag one day closer to her foul goals. Whatever they were.

    Thankfully, with the war-wagon Dreadnought now complete, the party was almost ready. They only had a few things left to do before they set off for the final confrontation.

    Things such as more training.

    Autumn squeaked in surprise as Nethlia caught her outstretched arm and sent her crashing back down into dirt.

    ¡°Focus!¡± Nethlia barked. ¡°You need to pay attention! If you lose focus like that in combat you¡¯ll be dead before you know it. Now get back up and we¡¯ll go over your footwork once more.¡±

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Autumn mumbled out as she stood back up and slipped into her fighting stance once more.

    She¡¯d not been the best at keeping to the stances Nethlia¡¯d taught her during the hectic violence of combat, opting instead to mostly saturate her enemies with a continuous barrage of panicked magic whilst scrambling for cover or flight. While it¡¯d worked out for her so far, Autumn¡¯s tactics hadn¡¯t impressed her team captain. So with an opportunity presented before her, the demoness sweated her through drill after drill to remember them instinctively. Mostly by throwing Autumn around the dusty training yard.

    ¡°Again!¡± Nethlia barked as Autumn picked herself back up once more.

    There were two stances Nethlia wanted her to remember.

    The first, she¡¯d called the aggressive stance.

    It was a simple stance. Autumn was to stand side-on to her opponent, wand-hand (right) leading with the same side¡¯s foot (also right) placed forward and her knife-hand (left) tucked into her chest. Most of her weight would rest on the ball of her leading foot, allowing her to quickly and easily lunge forward in a pivoting step to strike the enemy with her off-hand. With her opponent stunned or wounded by an initial blast of magic, they wouldn''t be able to defend against the follow up stab.

    While straightforward, it was still hard to remember when murderous vikings, bloodthirsty slavers, and monsters were bearing down on her.

    The next stance, Nethlia¡¯d called the defensive stance.

    Like the aggressive stance, Autumn would stand side-on to her opponent, only this time with her knife-hand side (left) leading. She was to place her weight on her back foot (right) with only her ball and toes of her leading foot (left) touching the ground. Her knife-hand (left) would cross over her chest while her wand-hand (right) would rest atop it, holding her wand in a claw grip with the butt of the wand pressed into her palm. From this position, she would easily step backwards while slicing out at an aggressive foe or strike them with magic.

    Easy right?

    Wrong! Against a single experienced foe, Autumn found herself woefully outclassed.

    She let out a shrill short scream as Nethlia¡¯s polearm swept her legs out from under her, dumping her onto her ass once more.

    ¡°Again!¡± Nethlia barked. ¡°You could¡¯ve avoided that!¡±

    As she picked herself back up, Autumn grumbled under her breath. ¡°This would go a whole lot different if I could use my shield.¡±

    Hearing the witch¡¯s grumbling, Nethlia quirked an eyebrow in amusement. Hefting her pole-hammer onto her broad shoulder, she favored Autumn with a confident smirk. ¡°Oh really? You think that¡¯ll make a difference, do you? Sure, go ahead. I¡¯ll knock you on your ass anyway.¡±

    Autumn paled. ¡°Ah-ha. I was only joking. We don¡¯t need to do that!¡±

    ¡°No. I insist.¡± Nethlia said, twirling her weapon around her before falling into a low-ready stance, pole-hammer aligned with the ground. ¡°Use your magical shield if you think it¡¯ll help you.¡±

    Gulping despite herself, Autumn fell instinctively into her defensive stance. ¡°You know it withstood a blow from the undead-angel, right? And being crushed by a mountain''s worth of rock?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I know,¡± Nethlia grinned, showing her sharp canines. ¡°In fact, I¡¯m counting on it. Are you ready, or do you need to stall some more?¡±

    ¡°No, I¡¯m ready.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± In an instant, Nethlia rocketed towards Autumn, trailing a dust cloud in her wake. Autumn gasped in shock, raising her wand hurriedly to meet the onrushing berserker. The bright bolts of magic roared towards Nethlia, but they didn¡¯t even graze her, she simply leaned contemptuously around their paths before they were even cast, her eyes locked onto Autumn¡¯s wand. Excited fury danced in the berserker¡¯s bright eyes.

    Like thunder, the pole-hammer rose.

    With a strangled gasp, Autumn was lifted off her feet as the powerful blow crashed into her stomach. A shrieking flash of violet bloomed where the iron hammer met her magical protection.

    Nethlia¡¯s weapon of war scythed through the air like a reaper¡¯s blade as she skidded to a stop beside an airborne Autumn, kicking up another plume of dust. Above the witch, the weapon rose menacingly. Autumn only had time for her eyes to widen before the meteoric blow descended. With a mighty heave, Nethlia drove the hammer¡¯s head down upon the witch¡¯s glowing shield, eliciting a resounding crack where it connected. The force of the blow sent Autumn into the dirt with a deafening boom.

    Dust surged into the air from the impact, obscuring the fallen witch.

    Nethlia planted her polearm into the dirt as she waited for the dust to clear. A bright jinx splashed harmlessly off her shoulder.

    ¡°Ha!¡± she laughed, rolling her struck shoulder. Below her, the dust cloud parted revealing a panting Autumn glaring up at her covered in dirt.

    ¡°How¨C¡± Autumn panted, ¡°-how did you do that?¡±

    ¡°What? Lift your skinny ass up like I did?¡± Nethlia smirked. ¡°Easy. While your shield absorbs a lot of momentum imparted into it, some of it makes it through. So, I simply lifted you using my pole-hammer as a lever. Then I hammered you back down like striking metal on an anvil. Just because I¡¯m a berserker doesn¡¯t mean I¡¯m stupid,¡± she grinned down at a dazed Autumn. Reaching down, she grasped Autumn¡¯s forearm and hauled her to her feet. ¡°Just because you have a good defense doesn¡¯t mean you can act like it¡¯s impenetrable. Someone somewhere will find a way past it. Best you learn that from me rather than them when it¡¯s too late.¡±

    ¡°Now, let¡¯s run through those stances of yours again, shall we? You could¡¯ve easily stepped away from my strike.¡±

    Autumn groaned, but complied, falling into her stances once more.

    <hr>

    Spells.

    Autumn had a decent selection of spells already, but she could always use more.

    Once she¡¯d finished going over her footwork and stances with Nethlia a few more times, she¡¯d turned her attention to her combat casting. First, she refamiliarized herself with all her known spells. Nethlia helpfully aided her as a test dummy on the non-lethal or harmful ones otherwise she¡¯d set up the straw targets for Autumn to practice on.

    After she felt confident in her ability to cast those, Autumn moved onto crafting her own. Or trying to, at least.

    It was rather hard.

    Of the four spells Autumn knew she could create, the one she focused on first was the one she¡¯d tentatively named Witch Armor.

    In most of the fantasy games and literature she¡¯d seen or read, mages, wizards, and other spellcasters forswore armor. Typically, because it impeded their spellcasting in some way. As such, they often turned to magic to acquire means of protecting themselves, whether that was with a shield spell like Autumn¡¯s, enchanted rings or robes of protection, or with conjured armor.

    It was that last thing she wanted to explore and create.

    Aside from her hat, Autumn hadn¡¯t noticed any particular issues with impeded spellcasting while wearing armor. While she couldn¡¯t wear a helm or anything that¡¯d impede her connection with her hat, garbing herself in chainmail hadn¡¯t been an issue for her. Perhaps she just wasn¡¯t the kind of spellcaster that was bothered by such issues.

    Autumn¡¯s mind wandered for a moment. She wondered if a witch¡¯s hat made of metal would work. Sort of like a kettle helm, just with a higher point. Thinking about it, who said it even needed to look like a witch¡¯s hat to hold magic?

    Technically, as Autumn was a witch, wouldn¡¯t any she wore be a witch¡¯s hat? Would a sunhat or beanie work?

    Shaking off her wayward thoughts, Autumn focused.

    As she¡¯d no idea how the spell would manifest, or if it¡¯d interact poorly with the chain shirt, Autumn divested herself of it and her robes for good measure. Standing in her tunic and hide pants, she closed her eyes and slowly formed her magical shield around herself, concentrating on the way it formed and manifested.

    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    Gazing into the spell¡¯s weave, the complexity of magic within it nearly blinded Autumn. There was too much. With but a glance, she knew she¡¯d never comprehend even the smallest thread of it. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t need to.

    Autumn focused not on unraveling the chaotic tangle, but on how it reacted as she fed her metamagic of force into it.

    It was like trying to fit a lone puzzle piece into an already completed puzzle.

    At first, the spell simply didn¡¯t want to form, but as the dark-eyed witch continued to pluck at the seams, searching for somewhere to jam the lone piece into, it began changing. Sometimes that change was benign or useless, other times not so much. The catastrophic failures left Autumn with scorched palms and curses on her lips that¡¯d make a sailor blush.

    Eventually, after a myriad of failed attempts, Autumn finally succeeded.

    Violet shadows, dark like the deepest night, clung tightly like smoke to the witch¡¯s form. It swirled loosely around her. Instinctively, Autumn knew she could mold the shifting magic to any style of armor or cloth she wished. Focusing once more, she warped the shadows around her chest into a breastplate front and back. Unadorned, it was and burnished the same violet-back. Around her throat, she spun a scarf that trailed off into tattered shadows as it drifted in the soft breeze.

    Sweat beaded heavily on Autumn¡¯s brow. With a gasp her concentration broke and so too did the spell, unraveling to leave her dressed only in cloth and leather once more.

    Autumn huffed in frustration. Closing her eyes once more, she willed the magic to form around her.

    She¡¯d get this spell right, even if it was the only new one she did.

    <hr>

    Autumn found herself outside Pyre¡¯s tent, the acrid stench of chemicals and alchemy burning the hairs from her nose. She peered inside the cluttered space and saw Pyre tirelessly tending the glassware stills. Behind her, magical potions glowed brightly upon a table top.

    Other than her spellcasting, there was only one major project left on Autumn¡¯s to-do list ¡ª Armor-working. As such, she was here for the hopefully tanned bear hide to turn into armor for Nethlia.

    While she didn¡¯t mind the sight of the demoness¡¯ scar-clad physique proudly displayed in tattered furs and cloth, Autumn felt that perhaps Nethlia could do with a bit more protection given the carnage they were walking-slash-driving into. If that meant sadly covering up her Amazonian body somewhat, that was a price Autumn was willing to pay for her lover¡¯s protection.

    Leaning into the alchemist¡¯s tent, Autumn called out to Pyre. ¡°Hey! Are you done with that pelt yet?¡±

    Pyre started at Autumn¡¯s shout, almost spilling a vial or red liquid over herself. She glared at a sheepish Autumn. After carefully stoppering the glowing vial and placing it with the others, she stomped over to Autumn. While she looked more rested than when they¡¯d last met, deep bags still hung beneath Pyre¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that!¡± Pyre growled. ¡°Now, what was it you wanted?¡±

    Quiter, Autumn asked again. ¡°I, uh, was wondering if you¡¯d finished tanning that bear pelt? I wanted to make some armor with it.¡±

    Pyre blinked. ¡°Oh, that? Yeah, it¡¯s done. It¡¯s stretched on a makeshift tanning rack out behind the tent. You can take it if you want.¡±

    Yawing, Pyre went to rub her eyes with her stained leather gloves, only recoiling at the last moment to glare at them.

    Awkwardly, Autumn shuffled. ¡°Hey, are you doing ok?¡±

    Pyre rolled her eyes. Impressive, given they were aflame. ¡°Yes, dad. I¡¯m sleeping. Kinda hard not to with Nethlia training us into exhaustion. Plus, I¡¯ve made most of what we needed by now.¡±

    ¡°Most of?¡±

    Pyre crossed her arms defensively. ¡°Yeah, I ran out of supplies. You try making potions without proper ingredients or reagents,¡± she huffed. ¡°I tried looking at the plants around the camp, but I¡¯ve no idea what they do. I¡¯ve started keeping a journey on Feywild plants, but without time to test them properly¡­¡± she said with a shrug.

    ¡°What potions have you made?¡± Autumn asked.

    Lazily gesturing to the potion laden table, Pyre listed them off. ¡°Well, we¡¯ve got roughly a dozen Minor Healing, half a dozen Stone-skin, another half-dozen refined Feybane poisons ¡ª I wasn¡¯t able to make them hagsbane, sorry ¡ª a Wide-eyed potion each that¡¯ll keep us awake for about three days, a dozen Poison Resistance potions, and finally a set of Minor Haste vials each. I¡¯m not sure how long those will last, but it should be long enough for a fight.¡±

    Autumn marveled over the wealth of potions glowing brightly on the table.

    ¡°What about that Angel-blood potion?¡± Autumn asked. ¡°Were you able to dilute it down?¡±

    Pyre looked away, scowling in embarrassment. After a beat, she muttered. ¡°No, it¡­it was too hard. It¡¯s almost alive in how it resists changes. I tried to dilute it down, but I didn¡¯t have much luck ¡ª it just evaporated. It¡¯s so frustrating! If we were back home, I¡¯m sure I could do it.¡±

    ¡°Where is it now?¡± Autumn asked as she didn¡¯t see it amongst the other bottles.

    Pyre scowled resentfully. ¡°Nelva took it so I couldn¡¯t ¡®waste¡¯ anymore. Her words, not mine. I wasn¡¯t wasting any! Just¡­trying out some things that might have worked if someone would¡¯ve just let me have a few more drops. It¡¯s like she didn¡¯t trust me or something!¡± she whined.

    ¡°Right~¡± Autumn drawled, eyeing the agitated alchemist. It was probably the right call to keep it out of the sleep deprived alchemist¡¯s hands for now. ¡°I¡¯m just going to go and grab that pelt now. Come get me if you need anything.¡±

    Pyre waved her off, as Autumn bid the alchemist farewell.

    Skirting around the tent, she found the tanning racks behind the tent. Mostly by following her nose.

    While the alchemical process of tanning leather wasn¡¯t as pungent as other means, it still wasn''t pleasant. Hiding her poor nose from the aroma with her sleeve, Autumn withdrew her wand and cast a cleaning spell on the pelt and the air with a few flicks and muttered curses.

    With the tanned hide cleansed of the stench and residual chemicals, Autumn carefully unbound it from the rack.

    Autumn took a moment to admire it. The fur was beautiful and velvety soft as it ghosted through her fingertips. She had to admit, Pyre did some good work. After rolling the hide up, she heaved onto her shoulder with a grunt and made the long trek back to her own tent. Ursa Ossa rumbled as she passed him by.

    Before Autumn got to work on improving Nethlia¡¯s barbarian-chic armor, Autumn decided to try and fix Nevla¡¯s first.

    Previously, Ithuriel the Rotten had sundered both the knight¡¯s shield and armor. The great fallen angel had driven Nelva¡¯s own blade right through her stomach, shattering the bone plate protecting it. Autumn had tried her best to fix the armor while they were in the necromancer¡¯s tower, but with her lack of familiarity with the bone-grafting spell the best she could do was remove the lower shattered section of her cuirass so that Nelva at least had the upper portion to guard her vitals. Now that she had a better grasp on the calcic spell, Autumn was confident she could do now what she couldn¡¯t before.

    Nelva was more than willing to lend her armor and broken shield to Autumn after she¡¯d explained what she intended to do.

    As she focused, Autumn came across familiar patterns within the knight¡¯s bone armor. She¡¯d always wondered just how armorsmiths made these continuous bone plate armors, and as she worked the shattered plates back into a cohesive whole, she got an answer.

    Perhaps necromancy wasn¡¯t as outlawed as she¡¯d first thought. Maybe they¡¯d just changed the name?

    She¡¯d have to investigate these bonesmiths further when they returned.

    Either way, Autumn swiftly fixed Nevla¡¯s armor. She even refitted it to the knight for free, not that she was charging for the rest of it.

    Neither Edwyn, Pyre, nor Liddie either needed or desired armor, so Autumn turned her attention to those that did.

    Like herself, Eme preferred to not wear armor or at least only wear lighter armor. Whether that was a magical issue or just one of preference, Autumn didn¡¯t know and couldn¡¯t find said catgirl to ask. In the end, she decided to make the bard a forearm guard out of dragonbone that went from elbow to wrist. Only the one, obviously.

    Seeing all her other projects completed, Autumn grabbed a bemused Nethlia and dragged her into her tent, stripping her down to her underwear for a fitting.

    ¡°Do I really need to wear a helm?¡± Nethlia asked trepidatiously as she ran a hand through her saggy locks. ¡°I haven¡¯t before and I¡¯ve been fine.¡±

    Autumn tore her gaze away from Nethlia¡¯s rippling abdomen. Blushing, she answered firmly. ¡°Yes, you do. We¡¯re heading into a clusterfuck of epic proportions and I¡¯ll be damned if I left you unprepared.¡±

    ¡°But the others don¡¯t,¡± Nethlia whined.

    ¡°Nelva does. And you¡¯re on the frontline, so you need more armor than the rest of us.¡±

    Nethlia huffed, crossing her arms under her breasts. ¡°I don¡¯t really need to. My style of combat is all about avoiding getting hit or pushing through the pain. Any extra armor would just slow me down. Plus, I run hot in battle ¡ª too much on me and I tend to overheat.¡±

    Blushing Autumn nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll take that into consideration. But at least let me remake your armor, please? This lot,¡± she kicked the tattered remains of Nethlia¡¯s barbarian armor, ¡°is pretty much rags at this point. Don¡¯t you want bespoke armor made by yours truly?¡±

    A smile tugged at Nethlia¡¯s lips. ¡°Fine~¡± she groaned. ¡°But nothing too covering!¡±

    Cheering slightly, Autumn grabbed her last orb of dragonbone and siphoned off enough material to make an open-faced helm perfectly fitted to Nethlia¡¯s head. Once padded, it¡¯d clip around the back of the demoness¡¯ horns and cover the top and back of her head, leaving her ears open. Next, she sliced off the bear¡¯s head and forepaws from the pelt. Taking off the lower jaw, Autumn added new teeth to the upper jaw before stitching the head to the dragonbone helm via magic. The forepaws would cradle the back of Nethlia¡¯s neck and shoulders before crossing protectively over the top of her chest where a bone pin held it together.

    Autumn crafted a thick fur-lined belt around Nethlia¡¯s waist and an armored tasset-like skirt to protect her upper thighs. Nethlia¡¯s boots and gauntlets too got an upgrade, now sporting thick dragonbone plates and soft bear fur.

    As Autumn went to add more armor to her, Nethlia finally had enough of being the witch¡¯s dress-up doll. Gently grabbing Autumn¡¯s wrists, she spoke exasperatedly. ¡°Ok, that¡¯s enough.¡±

    ¡°But I¡¯m not done!¡± Autumn whined. ¡°Just one more thing, please.¡±

    Nethlia sighed as Autumn pouted. ¡°What is it?¡±

    Wiggling from Nethlia¡¯s grip, Autumn dashed over to her pile of bear fur and withdrew a half-completed jacket she¡¯d for the last hour or so in between other pieces of armor. What she held up to Nethlia was an almost modern-looking sleeveless leather jacket lined with bear fur. It looked kinda crude, but in that barbarian-chic kinda way Nethlia favored.

    ¡°This!¡± Autumn proudly declared.

    Despite herself, Nethlia looked intrigued. Donning it, the jacket stopped just below her breasts, leaving her rippling abdomen exposed. The berserker rolled her shoulders as she adjusted to the weight of the slim armored plates Autumn¡¯s sneakily hidden inside the lining.

    Clad in a roaring bear hood and armored jacket, Nethlia looked far more dangerous than ever before.

    Seeing Autumn¡¯s look, she rolled her eyes. ¡°Yes, Autumn, I was wrong and you were right. It looks good. Happy?¡±

    ¡°Very.¡±

    <hr>

    Oh, one last thing before we go.

    Late into the night, when few were stirring, Autumn lay bare upon her bedding, clad only by light and shadow. She¡¯d brought a moment of lonesome reflection by sending Eme off to bother Nethlia for the night. While initially hesitant, the bardic catgirl acquiesced to the witch¡¯s request, recognising her need for a moment alone.

    A chill wind breezed through Autumn¡¯s tent, chasing rises and bumps all across the witch¡¯s snowy flesh. A shiver raced down her spine at the touch. Her scars spoke of a history like contours on a map, a history of violence and victory.

    Slim fingers traced those white lines in thought.

    Nethlia had taught Autumn much about scars. Of how to view them not as the horrible wounds they appeared to be, but to view them as badges of honor or lessons to learn from. Or both.

    And most of them, she did.

    Autumn¡¯s fingers ghosted over the scar on her brow. It reminded her of the fight she¡¯d undertaken to see her friends free of the city of chains, to see them beyond the river chain. Her fingers next traced the scars to either side of her calf. These ones reminded her that all plans can go awry and to prepare for the worst. The scar the mage had gifted her reminded her of victory, of escape, and of her brush with death.

    She liked those scars. When she saw them, she felt the pride Nethlia spoke of.

    But when she gazed upon those worming across her stomach, she felt nothing but residual horror and regret. It reminded her only of pain and suffering at the hands of a monster that wished to see her dead or worse. There was no pride, no lesson to be learned in them.

    She wished to see them gone.

    Placing her slim hand upon the grotesque wound, Autumn willed her magic to mold and shape her flesh, to wrap the wound back to what it once was. She grimaced as the pain flared, but her concentration didn¡¯t break ¡ª she¡¯d endured worse. Through the pain, she smoothed out her nightmares.

    After a long, agonizing, teeth-clenching moment, the roiling pain stopped.

    When Autumn lifted her hand, only unmarred skin remained, although sensitive and pink to the touch.

    A smile graced her lips.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Three: Into the Breach

    Sharp caws filled the air as a million carrion crows feasted on the festering dead. Corpses piled high throughout the desolate landscape of waterlogged trenches and ruined fortresses that stood like tombstones. Like ceaseless waves, the elvish host had crashed upon the defenses of crow and goblin, shattering walls and lines beneath a thousand bombardments and the sheer weight of their dead.

    The faes¡¯ beautiful corpses littered the battlefield like so many broken dolls.

    All throughout this unholy danse macabre redcaps wetted their ruddy caps of sagging flesh. Terrible glee lighted their red bulging eyes as they surveyed the carnage, singing their discordant, cruel songs. The air soured with their hymns joining the chaotic rhythm of battle.

    To the southernmost edge of the battlefield lay a ruined fortress like any other. Within, a lone goblin of wiry hair and broken teeth marched an uneven beat amongst torn bodies. Guts spilled out amongst the sucking mud. He strode before the broken gates, eyeing the shattered wood barely hanging within the frame with some trepidation.

    Gut-stabber was his name. The third. He came from a long line of proud gut stabbers.

    And boy, did he love stabbing guts. He loved watching them spill out into the damp mud. Watch them steam as his victims cried and begged for mercy he did not have.

    What a charming fellow he was. A pinnacle of goblinkind.

    He also wasn¡¯t a half bad singer. At least, he thought so. Others, not so much, but what did they know?

    Anyway, Gut-stabber was bored. Almost terminally so. Not an unusual occurrence for a red-cap goblin, but it was especially poignant with all the guts he could be stabbing right now if his boss had¡¯ve placed him further north where the main bulk of the fighting was.

    Here? Few of the blasted fairies were coming here.

    He should¡¯ve just stabbed his bosses¡¯ guts, Gut-stabber mused. Nevermind that his boss was an ogre and more than eight times his height. It just meant there was more of the big bastard¡¯s guts to stab. Gut-stabber imagined it reverently, of how his boss¡¯ massive guts would steam in the mud. Imagine the look on the bastard¡¯s face! Call him names, would he!

    Gut-stabber cackled to himself.

    Out the corner of his bulging eye, Gut-stabber spotted another goblin creeping towards his hoarded corpses. He was going for his guts!

    Snarling, Gut-stabber whirled on the other redcap. ¡°Oi!¡± he screamed, causing the other goblin to jump in fright. ¡°Them¡¯s mine! You can fuck right off, ya git, or I¡¯ll stab your guts!¡±

    Gut-stabber was a master of goblin diplomacy.

    The other redcap goblin recoiled from Gut-stabber¡¯s diatribe. ¡°But Gutstab, there¡¯s no good ones left! My cap¡¯s drying out!¡± he whined. ¡°How¡¯s we supposed to live in these conditions!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t¡¯s complain ta me, ya git! I¡¯s here too, ain''t I!¡± Gut-stabber snarled, spittle flying in the other¡¯s face. ¡°And it¡¯s Gut-stabber! Gut-stabBER! Not Gutstab or Guts! Get it right or I¡¯ll stab ya!¡±

    ¡°Why¡¯s we ¡®ere anyway, Gutstab? No stinky fairies wanna bust through this here gob-fort! We¡¯s too strong! They all be up north where all the weaky gobbos are. Only dumb-dumb fairies would attack us!¡±

    Furious, Gut-stabber whirled on the goblin who¡¯d butchered his name, driving his rusty blade into the other¡¯s guts. ¡°It¡¯s GUT-STABBER!!!¡± he screamed. Slicing across the other goblin¡¯s belly, he let other¡¯s guts spill out into the mud where the goblin cried and pawed at them.

    Around the broken fortress, the other redcaps cackled at the display.

    Turning, Gut-stabber, the third, addressed the gathered crowd of foul goblins as he stood before the shattered gates. ¡°We is ¡®ere cause stupid fairies make stupid fairy plans! Stupid fairies alway make stupid fairy plans! They think they smarter than goblin! Smarter than Gut-stabber! But Gut-stabber smarter than fairies! When¡¯s they come, Gut-stabber will stab ¡®em all! In their guts! Gut-stabber best! Nothin¡¯ kill Gut-stabbe¡ª-¡±

    Suddenly, the ruined gates behind Gut-stabber exploded inwards, sending the goblin sprawling down into the mud with a frightened squeal.

    Thundering through the breach roared a bear made of bone and unbridled fury. Its massive paw came down upon the sprawled goblin¡¯s head, splattering Gut-stabber¡¯s brains across the muddy stones of the goblin fortress.

    The other redcaps were stunned for a moment by the sudden violence. However, they quickly rallied and, with crazed cries to match the bear¡¯s roar, surged forth, brandishing rusted blades and rotten bows.

    Ursa Ossa let out a bellowing, haunting roar once more in the face of the greentide. With great pounding strides, the armored undead beast pushed forward into the broken fortress, crushing goblins too slow or dumb to flee underfoot. Betwixt its mighty jaws, small bodies snapped in twain before being tossed aside like torn rag dolls. Foul blood wetted the bear¡¯s polished teeth.

    Like a formidable fortress itself, the war-wagon Dreadnought followed in the bear¡¯s wake, dragged behind by a leather harness as it floated domineeringly above the blood and mud. Bolts scythed out from narrow arrowslits lining the war-wagon¡¯s side, cutting down any red-cap that drew too close to either it or the bear pulling them along.

    Autumn peered through the viewport alongside Nethlia at the carnage. She grasped a leather strap dangling from the ceiling in a white-knuckled grip while her other clenched tightly around her wand. Her face turned green from the stench of death and the sway of movement.

    In her rush to build the war-wagon, Autumn had forgotten to account for one important factor. Physics.

    Every sharp turn the frictionless floating Dreadnought took sent the crew manning it sliding across the interior and slamming into the walls. Autumn had added hastily a few leather straps to the ceiling for herself and the others to hold on to as they took those sharp turns. Mentally, she added making seatbelts to her to-do list.

    Autumn grunted as her shoulder collided with the wall beside her once more. Beside her, Nethlia flashed her an apologetic look as she guided Ursa Ossa through the ramshackled goblin fortress.

    Calling it a fortress was an insult to other fortresses. This particular example of keen goblin construction was composed of a series of mismatched walls, defenses, and broken buildings set randomly between a pair of lopsided gates. While likely unintentional, the chaotic nature of the redcaps¡¯ defenses added a layer of confusion that stymied any assaulters. Autumn herself couldn¡¯t tell whether the ruined nature of the fort was because of attacks from the fey host or simply a facet of goblin architecture.

    Either way, it was annoying.

    ¡°Look out!¡± Autumn cried out as they thundered around a narrow bend only to see another ramshackled hut blocking their way. A myriad of redcap goblins stood atop it, hollering and hooting as they brandished rusted weapons at the party.

    Nethlia grunted in annoyance. ¡°I see it! Hold onto something back there!¡± she called back to the others.

    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re not going to¡ª¡±

    Autumn¡¯s words cut off as Ursa Ossa ducked their armored head low and, with a guttural roar, plowed through the wooden hut, much to the redcaps¡¯ surprise. Like rain, they fell about the wagon, only to be crushed underfoot. The sounds of their crunching bones made Autumn wince even as the impact jerked her backwards, leather biting into her palm. From behind drifted curses and cries of surprise as the others lost their footing as well.

    Shattering through the hut¡¯s other wall, the wagon reemerged onto the cluttered path and continued towards the other gate.

    ¡°Everyone alright back there?¡± Nethlia called over her shoulder.

    ¡°We¡¯re fine!¡± A pale Eme grunted as she picked herself up off the floor. ¡°A few bruises, but nothing broken. Could use less of that, though! I almost threw up.¡±

    ¡°Not much of a choice there ¡ª this place is a fucking maze!¡±

    ¡°And we couldn¡¯t cross through anywhere else why?¡± Pyre complained as she staggered to her feet to fire out at the goblins flinging themselves recklessly towards the wagon thundering past them.

    Autumn looked back at the alchemist as she replied. ¡°Cause the trenches to either side of the fortress were too wide and full of deep mud. Ursa Ossa would sink if we tried to push through there and then we¡¯d be stuck. At least here we¡¯re crossing solid ground.¡±

    ¡°It still sucks¡ª Fuck!¡± Pyre cursed as an goblin arrow skittered off the outside of the arrowslit she stood before. Firing back through it at the archer, she screamed. ¡°Fuck you, you fuckers!¡±

    ¡°Eloquent as ever,¡± Nelva drawled.

    ¡°Stuff it!¡±

    A series of rapid thuds on the roof cut off the burgeoning argument. Swiftly following the impacts came the sound of rabid screams as the assaulting redcaps ineffectually chipped their rusted blades against the dragonbone armor cladding the wagon.

    Liddie snapped her head up and grinned. ¡°We got boarders, captain! Permission to engage?¡± she asked as she skillfully made her way to the front of the wagon where the hatch to the roof sat.

    Of the team, she and Edwyn took to the swaying motion of the wagon the fastest.

    Nethlia shook her head as she turned back. ¡°No, we¡¯ll try to shake them off first. They can¡¯t get through the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Look out!¡± Autumn screamed suddenly, pointing ahead. ¡°Ogre!¡±

    A giant of heavy muscle and bulging fat clad in coarse hair and filthy furs came roaring in from the side of the road where Autumn was pointing. Nethlia cursed and tried desperately to guide Ursa Ossa away, but it was too late. The giant crashed into the armored bear, ramming it off course and into another building.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Nethlia and Autumn¡¯s eyes widened as the wagon, obeying the laws of physics, swung towards the ignorant ogre.

    ¡°Hold on!¡± Was all Nethlia could cry before they slammed into the ogre¡¯s side like the head of a flail.

    The thickset beast grunted in surprise as the heavy war-wagon crashed into it, sending it staggering back. Screams of fright ripped through the air as the impact sent the goblins clinging to the roof flying. Like fleshy darts, they splattered across the ogre¡¯s hide and the muddy stones.

    Before the ogre could retaliate, a line of crossbow bolts zippered up its thick skin along its face, forcing it to shield its eyes with one meaty palm.

    ¡°Go! Go!¡± Liddie cried out as she reloaded hurriedly, the bolts clattering to the ground from her shaky fingertips.

    Pulling herself back into her seat, Nethlia urged the undead to move with a thwack of the leather reins. With an almighty jerk, the wagon roared through the shattered building and out the other side.

    Autumn felt like her arm was being wrenched out of its socket with all the sudden changes of direction battering her about.

    A sudden ursine cry of shock caught Autumn¡¯s attention. Looking up quickly, her eyes widened as she saw her undead bear plunge off a ledge, dragging the war-wagon with it.

    ¡°Oh, fuck!¡± Autumn swore as the wagon took a nose-dive off a fifteen-foot drop.

    For a brief moment, she and the party were in free-fall. Autumn¡¯s stomach dropped away from her as she was lifted off her feet.

    Ursa Ossa hit the ground first. The massive armored undead landed on its forepaws, letting out an instinctive grunt before bounding forwards to pull the falling war-wagon out of its nose-dive. With a resounding crash, Dreadnought slammed into the ground belly first before springing back up.

    While the levitation runes took most of the impact, the sudden deceleration still sent the adventurers on a rapid collision-course with the floor. Hard.

    Autumn cried out in pain as the impact dislocated her shoulder.

    Slumping in her seat, Autumn cradled her arm. With tears glittering in her eyes, she carefully raised and rotated her arm until her shoulder relocated with a slight pop. Stifling her cries, the dark-eyed witch gently eased the strained muscles with a wash of magic.

    Beside her, Nethlia shook the cobwebs from her mind. She¡¯d slammed her head into the bulkhead at the sudden stop. Thankfully, her new helm protected her, tanking most of the blow. Her only wound was a tiny cut on her brow that trickled blood down the berserker¡¯s cheek. Groggily, she glanced over Autumn first before turning to look at the others in the back. ¡°Anyone hurt back there?¡±

    It was Nelva that called back. ¡°We¡¯re fine! Mostly,¡± she grunted. ¡°Pyre¡¯s leg is broken. Could we get some help splinting it first before we give her a healing potion, Autumn?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Give me a second,¡± Autumn grunted staggered to her feet.

    Supporting herself on the wall, she awkwardly limped her way into the back. Her tailbone felt broken, but a test with her healing spell told her it was just heavily bruised.

    She was definitely adding seatbelts the next time they stopped.

    An acrid, pungent smell assaulted Autumn¡¯s nose as she entered the main section of the Dreadnought. Gagging, she covered her nose. ¡°What the hell is that smell?!¡±

    Nelva looked Autumn¡¯s way with a grimace as she supported Pyre¡¯s broken leg. ¡°Eme threw up.¡±

    The pale catgirl gave them an apologetic look, her ears flat to her skull. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she sniffled, her voice snuffly. ¡°I don¡¯t do well with motion.¡±

    ¡°Um, that¡¯s alright,¡± Autumn reassured her. ¡°I can clean that up, no problem.¡±

    Taking out her wand, the dark-haired witch gathered the vomit staining her war-wagon into a stream and sent it flying out a nearby arrowslit. The projective puke struck a goblin in the face as it scrambled over a nearby building. It squealed in fright and shock, tumbling off the poorly-built building to its death.

    Autumn winced at the sound of the goblin¡¯s neck cracking.

    Seemingly, the sound was a signal. Over the broken walls and buildings in every direction streamed a tide of goblins. The gibbering horde was packed so tightly that before long Autumn couldn¡¯t see the streets or rooftops any longer. Only an ocean of green skin, gleaming red eyes, and crimson caps met her eyes.

    Paling, Autumn called back to Nethlia. ¡°Uh, Nethlia? Get us out of here, please!¡±

    Nethlia looked out groggily at the screaming waves washing towards them before grimacing. Shaking herself, she called back, before lashing Ursa Ossa to get moving again. ¡°Hold on! It¡¯s going to get bumpy!¡±

    ¡°Going to?¡± Eme muttered shakily. ¡°It wasn¡¯t before?¡±

    The mighty bear reared up with a tremendous roar at Nethlia¡¯s urging before tearing forward towards the horde blocking their way. Like an icebreaker ship, the armored undead tore through the mass of green, crushing skulls and bones underfoot. The smell of death and voided bowels had Autumn gagging once more as the wagon lurched.

    Catching herself on the wall, she made her way over to where Pyre lay. Kneeling down, Autumn helped Nelva realign the other girl¡¯s leg with magic so that it¡¯d heal properly once she¡¯d downed her healing potion. Pyre grasped Autumn¡¯s arm in a tight grip as she whimpered in pain.

    Carefully, Autumn fused the splinters of broken bone back together within Pyre¡¯s leg, the alchemist downing a potion when she was done. Wiping the dregs from her lips, Pyre groaned. ¡°Can we not do that again? That sucked.¡±

    Autumn smiled faintly. ¡°No promises. There might be more cliffs for us to fall off of.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good that you can make jokes,¡± Nelva clapped Autumn and Pyre on their shoulders. ¡°But let¡¯s get through this in one piece, okay? Now get back on the walls ¡ª it¡¯s a target rich environment out there.¡±

    Autumn nodded as she staggered her way back to the front of the wagon.

    This hadn¡¯t been exactly what she¡¯d envisioned when they¡¯d planned to push through the fortress on their way to the hag¡¯s abode. From a distance, it looked tiny. Deserted. Yet within, they found themselves swarmed by a horde of vicious creatures who only felt hate in their hearts.

    A glance outside burned her eyes. Out there lingered a maelstrom of madness, of unmatched hatred for all things but themselves.

    Autumn¡¯s hands wouldn¡¯t stop shaking, no matter how much fear she tore free from herself. She clenched them tight, not wanting the others to see.

    Closing her eyes, she drew in a breath. In and out. In and out.

    When she opened her eyes, steel lay within them.

    Slowly, the party tore through the gibbering horde threatening to bog them down through sheer numbers. Hundreds upon hundreds of screaming, maddened redcaps tore at their war-wagon¡¯s walls with knife or cracked fingernails, leaving streaks of blood flowing down its beautiful engravings. Each sought to be the one to carve their way inside the Dreadnought to murder the adventurers defiantly cowering inside.

    Behind the wagon thundered the troublesome ogre, killing all that got in the way of his heavy steps.

    Bolts of violet magic screamed desperately out from the war-wagon to halt the giant, splashing viscously across its blubberous body. The giant roared in pain as the magic melted his flesh. Maddened, he rushed towards the back of the wagon, seeking to tear it apart with his club-like fists. Each step rocked the ground, sending ripples through the tide of green.

    ¡°Fuck! Pour it on ¡®em!¡± Autumn cried.

    Edwyn grunted as they fired bolt after bolt at the rampaging giant. ¡°Pour what on ¡®em? I ain¡¯t goin¡¯ out there!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a figure of speech! Just kill that fucking giant!¡±

    At her barked words of encouragement, more and more bolts of both poison and magic tore into the giant¡¯s body. Furious, the ogre tried to press on and grab at the fleeing wagon, but could not as waterfalls of crimson blood poured freely from his numerous wounds. Sluggishly, he staggered after the war-wagon swinging his mighty fists through scores of goblins as they too chased after the adventurers.

    Crimson washed over the Dreadnought like rain.

    Finally, after an age of bloodshed, the mighty beast was felled. Slowed by bloodloss and poison, the ogre wasn¡¯t able to shield himself in time as a lucky bolt from Edwyn¡¯s crossbow pierced through his eye right into his brain. Blinking slowly, the giant fell like a mighty oak, crashing with a resounding boom onto the ground. Its prominent bulk crushed a legion of red-eyed goblins.

    ¡°Ha!¡± Edwyn crowed. ¡°That one¡¯s mine!¡±

    Autumn gave the Manus a glare, although a smile quirked at the corner of lips. Quietly, she whispered. ¡°That still only counts as one.¡±

    Edwyn snorted, hearing the humor in Autumn¡¯s voice.

    The goblins faltered at seeing their leader fall. But only for a moment. They rallied surprisingly fast and surged towards the wagon relentlessly once more.

    The smarter of them rushed towards the walls of the wagon and tried to shoot their crappy bows directly into the wagon through the arrowslits. While some of them succeeded in sending their cobbled together arrows bouncing around the interior of the war-wagon, none survived the retributive fire.

    Luckily, no one on their side was hurt. Even with the poison resistance potions coursing through their veins, they didn¡¯t want to test whatever foul substance the goblins coated their arrowheads with.

    Great streams of blood seeped in through the slits and gaps as more and more bodies crumpled against the side of the wagon. Ravenous mounds crushed their fellows to death as they clambered atop the wagon, sagging it under the weight of their broken bodies.

    Some even smarter goblins sought to cut the leather coupling the Dreadnought to Ursa Ossa.

    ¡°Get the fuck off my ride!¡± Autumn snarled as she sent bolts of deathly magic roaring out the front of the war-wagon. Boiled and blasted bodies rolled under the wagon in the face of the witch¡¯s fury.

    Nethlia raised an eyebrow at the sight. ¡°Are you a berserker too?¡± she joked.

    Autumn blushed. ¡°Focus on driving, you!¡±

    Nethlia laughed as she obeyed.

    Finally, with a final, triumphant roar, Ursa Ossa tore through the press of goblin bodies and sundered the shuttered gates at the rear of the fortress. With their path unimpeded, the Dreadnought exited the fortress and thundered out into a landscape of burnt trees and flooded craters. Goblin arrows fell upon the fleeing wagon from the walls like an everpouring rain.

    The soft plinking was almost soothing after the hell they¡¯d just survived.

    Looking forward, Autumn saw the blasted landscape abruptly change in the far distance into a scorching desert. The air lay clouded with screaming sandstorms.

    While she couldn¡¯t see it now, Autumn knew the hag¡¯s abode lay beyond that sprawling desert.

    Autumn glanced away from the horizon, staring into the back of the wagon and grimaced. A pool of goblin and ogre blood sloshed about their feet. Broken arrows and bolts floated in the crimson ocean like driftwood.

    The others looked as shell-shocked as Autumn felt. They gazed idly around the cramped bloodstained interior of the Dreadnought, wondering what the hell had just happened.

    Autumn was wondering the same thing herself.

    It felt like forever had passed in a moment.

    Maybe it had, knowing the Feywild.

    Turning to Nethlia, Autumn spoke. ¡°Hey, you alright? You¡¯re bleeding.¡±

    Nethlia reached up and felt her cut brow with a frown. ¡°I¡¯m fine ¡ª it¡¯s just a cut. How are you doing? That was¡­¡±

    Autumn shuddered. ¡°Yeah, hopefully that¡¯s the worst of it,¡± she reassured Nethlia unconvincingly. She didn¡¯t even believe it herself, after all.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe¡ª¡±

    ¡°Uh guys?¡± Eme voice interrupted what Nethlia was going to say. ¡°Is it just me, or is there a large pack of wolves chasing after us?¡±

    Autumn shared a glance with Nethlia before rushing to the back. Stopping beside Eme, Autumn peeked out the window slits lining the back door.

    Ice ran down her spine at what she saw.

    True to Eme¡¯s words, a massive pack of wolves came barreling out of the shattered gates they¡¯d just left. On each of the beast¡¯s backs rode a fur-clad goblin brandishing wicked spears and stolen bows. The worst part of it was they were gaining on them. Fast.

    While tireless, Ursa Ossa wasn¡¯t the fastest beast around. Evidently.

    Watching as the wolves gained ground, Autumn noticed something odd gathering on the horizon behind them. Great dark clouds like thunderstorms rolled towards them, swallowing the light. Yet, there was something off about these clouds ¡ª they moved far too erratically to be natural. In fact, they reminded her of sparrow swarms.

    Autumn paled.

    Like rolling thunder, the caws of the grand murder cracked through the air as it flew unerringly towards the Dreadnought.

    An omen of death took wing.

    ¡°A-alight. D-don¡¯t panic, everyone! R-reload what you can ¡ª we¡¯re about to have company.¡±

    As everyone else grimly reloaded their repeating crossbows with fresh bolts, Autumn rushed back through the wagon towards the front. Stopping beside Nethlia, she gripped the seat tightly as she stared out towards the desert sands in the distance.

    ¡°We¡¯ve got followers. Think we can lose them in those sandstorms?¡±

    Nethlia grinned. ¡°Sure thing. Never been in a desert before. This¡¯ll be fun.¡±

    With a snap of the reins, she urged Ursa Ossa into a dead ¡ª hah! ¡ª sprint, kicking up broken earth and mud behind them as the Dreadnought raced for the shifting sands.

    Behind them, the wolf riders howled and bayed for blood beneath a darkening sky.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Four: A Race to the Sands

    The witch¡¯s Dreadnought kicked up clouds of mud and dust as it raced towards the shifting sands, a baying host of wolves hot on its heels. Around flooded craters and shattered trees, it dodged and weaved, blood and ichor streaming down its ivory faces. The darksome rivers flowed around the etched scenes of the party¡¯s triumphs and tribulations, giving them a new grim portent.

    Howls of maddened glee rippled through the air as the pursuant wolf riders gained ground on the fleeing adventurers.

    Breathing deeply, Autumn clambered up the ladder towards the hatch that opened out onto the roof. She lugged it open with a grunt, letting it slam against the dragonbone roof. Hauling herself up, she stuck her head out to get a better view of the chasing horde.

    Instantly, the wind whipped her dark locks about her face, filling her mouth with the taste of hair. Autumn reached instinctively for her hat as the wind tugged at it, despite knowing no breeze could tear it from her.

    She brushed her hair out of her eyes in annoyance and gazed upon her pursuing foes.

    Atop wolves, they rode, gleefully flinging goblin insults at her, at each other, at anything really.

    The beasts they rode upon weren¡¯t the noble creatures Autumn knew from Earth. No, they were as wicked-looking as their riders. Spurs of bone sprouted painfully down their back where crusted fur and oozing wounds matted what little fur remained on their scarred bodies. Mad eyes rolled wildly in their sockets as they raced, snapping fearfully at one another with frothing, powerful jaws. The sounds of their sundering bites echoed like gunshots in Autumn¡¯s ears.

    She could practically taste their fury and fear.

    The goblins riding them looked little better than their mounts. Clad in tattered furs and stolen regalia, they bore finer weapons than the crazed hordes of the fortress before, likely all stolen from the fey dead. Silvery spears and bows glittered brightly in their filthy hands.

    While that sight was concerning enough, the fact the riders weren¡¯t alone drove another nail into Autumn¡¯s resolve. Racing alongside the goblin calvary came packed chariot-carts of their own goblin-style construction, pulled by teams of frenzied wolves.

    ¡°How is it looking up there?¡± Nelva called from below.

    Autumn lowered herself down to reply. ¡°Not good. I don¡¯t think we can outrun them. They¡¯ve got a dozen or so carts and fifty or more wolf riders, archers mostly. Maybe even a hundred odd,¡± she grimaced. ¡°We¡¯ll have to engage them ¡ª we can¡¯t risk them cutting Ursa Ossa¡¯s harness or getting in our way.¡±

    Nelva nodded firmly. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡±

    ¡°The same as before ¡ª we kill as many as we can,¡± Autumn shrugged. She gripped the ladder tightly as the war-wagon swayed around another crater. ¡°Nethlia¡¯ll get us to the desert. Hopefully, we¡¯ll lose them in the sandstorms there. I¡¯ll stay up top seeing as I¡¯ve got the longest range and magical protection. You guys man the walls. If that¡¯s ok?¡±

    ¡°Sound¡¯s good enough to me, but, uh, could you do something about all this blood?¡± Nelva gestured to the pools of goblin blood swirling about their feet. ¡°It¡¯s making it hard to keep our footing.¡±

    ¡°Oh, sure thing,¡± Autumn said. Gesturing with her alabaster wand, she whispered a quick dirt dismay spell and gathered the blood off the floor into the air in great swirling streams. With another flick of her wand, she sent the gathered blood streaming out of the arrowslits along the walls, leaving the floor relatively clean.

    ¡°Anything else?¡± she asked.

    Nelva shook her head. ¡°No. I think we¡¯re fine for now.¡±

    The haunting sounds of tortured, maddened howls tore Autumn¡¯s attention away from the crossbow-armed knight and whatever she was going to say died on her lips. She glanced towards the noise hidden behind the dragonbone bulkheads. Gulping, the witch gripped the rungs tighter. Jokingly, she spoke lightly to Nelva. ¡°See you on the other side, then?¡±

    Nelva saluted Autumn, striking a gauntleted fist to her bone-armored breast. ¡°Through hells, we ride,¡± she said with a grim smile before turning back to check on the others.

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Autumn muttered as she watched Nelva go. Turning around, she made her way slowly to the front of the wagon where Nethlia sat, minding the war-wagon¡¯s swaying. As she stopped beside the focused demoness, Autumn looked her over. ¡°You doing ok?¡± she asked.

    Nethlia grunted, not taking her eyes off the blasted landscape. ¡°My head¡¯s a little fuzzy. Must¡¯ve banged it pretty hard in the fall. Otherwise, I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°Need me to heal you? I don¡¯t know if I can do concussions, but I can try,¡± Autumn said hurriedly, preparing to cast her magic. ¡°Or I can get Pyre if you prefer. I¡¯m sure she¡¯s got something that¡¯ll heal you.¡±

    Nethlia waved Autumn off awkwardly, trying not to pull too hard on the reins. ¡°Nah, I¡¯m good. You lot focus on keeping the goblins off of us while I get us through this mire. Besides, your bear is doing most of the work, I¡¯m just sitting here.¡±

    Autumn bit her lip. ¡°If you¡¯re sure. Make sure you call me if you feel any worse, ok?¡±

    ¡°Go,¡± Nethlia chuckled. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine. Kill some goblins for me, will you?¡±

    Awkwardly, Autumn wrapped her arms around Nethlia¡¯s neck from behind in a hug. The smell of the demoness¡¯ hair filled her nose. What was only seconds felt like an eternity. It was nice. Intimate. Something warm and pure amongst the blood-soaked carnage surrounding them. Nethlia leaned back into Autumn¡¯s embrace with a soul-deep sigh.

    Autumn wanted to stay like this forever, but reluctantly parted with her lover. ¡°Don¡¯t die,¡± she commanded.

    ¡°You too,¡± Nethlia smiled back.

    Turning away from her lover lest she falter and stay, Autumn hoisted herself up the ladder to the rooftop. Tucking her hair away into her hat, she peered once more into the whipping wind at the wolf riders and carts chasing them. In the time she¡¯d been talking to the others, they¡¯d eaten up a fair amount of distance between them and the party, dipping and dodging around the craters of stagnant water far more easily than poor Ursa Ossa could.

    As they spotted her, the wolf archers fired their stolen bows her way with crackling hollers. Thankfully, the distance was still too great, and they were poor shots besides ¡ª the elvish arrows sunk into the mud far behind the fleeing war-wagon.

    Autumn hauled herself up and onto the lip of the hatch to gain a better vantage. Bracing her feet against the hatch¡¯s frame, she leveled her wand towards the wolves and their riders. Unlike with arrows, gravity nor wind affected her spells ¡ª they flew true towards her targets, only dissipating beyond a certain distance if they didn¡¯t strike their targets.

    And strike true, they did.

    Forceful blasts knocked riders clean from their tattered saddles. Heavy paws crushed them underfoot as they rolled beneath the wolven horde, while snapping jaws instinctively tore into them like a rabbit caught by a hunting hound. Goblin blood stained the dark mud further as the redcap riders screamed.

    While she tried not to target the wolves, the unlucky few struck by Autumn¡¯s force-imbued spells yelped as they tumbled head over heels, necks cracking against the ground as they sent their riders flying. The wolves following those that fell jumped over the crumpled bodies, the less nimble of them tripping as well, causing a small pileup to occur. Not enough to free the adventurers of pursuit, but it was something.

    Autumn ducked as a silvery arrow skidded across the roof beside her.

    Scowling, she shot screaming jinxes hurtling back in retaliation. Force and necrotic energies saw the goblin archers who¡¯d fired upon her sent tumbling to their deaths with gurgled cries. Yet no matter how many lives her reaper¡¯s blade caught, many more filled their place with wild abandon, drawing ever closer to the Dreadnought.

    ¡°Get ready!¡± Autumn cried out to the others below. ¡°They¡¯re almost in range!¡±

    Confident cries of affirmation sounded off from below her. As soon as the goblins came into crossbow range, bolts whizzed rapidly out of the war-wagon, scything through the front ranks, sending them tumbling to their deaths in the mud. Those who fell into the waterlogged craters drowned as they clawed at the slipping mud.

    Seeing those in front die horrible deaths, the subsequent wolf riders split off, seeking to flank the deadly rain of bolts. Unfortunately for them, that just put them into range of the arrowslits along the sides.

    More goblin bodies fell into the mud like rain.

    Still, there were more riders than they had bolts.

    Autumn tried her best to cover the others as they reloaded. Panting, she sent jinx after jinx towards the horde encroaching upon the wagon. Even with her prodigious casting speed, she couldn¡¯t keep the goblins at bay forever.

    A rickety, goblin-made cart pulled by a team of wolves crashed into the Dreadnought, scraping along its side as they matched the war-wagon¡¯s pace. Packed in the back of the cart, a gang of redcaps clad in cruel, scavenged armor flung crude spears and fired tainted arrows at Autumn along with jeers and insults she unfortunately could understand.

    Scowling as a foul-mouthed goblin insulted her dearly-departed mother, Autumn targeted the lead wolf with an overpowered Necrotic Lance. It splashed across the side of the wolf¡¯s face, boiling away its flesh in a flash of magic. The beast died in an instant.

    So much for her sparing the wolves.

    As the lupine body crumpled to the ground, it dragged the others down with it by the iron chains linking them together. Yelping, the pack disappeared beneath the wheels of the cart. The goblins riding it had only a moment of incomprehension before the entire thing flipped end over end, killing them all.

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Autumn stared at the crash wide-eyed as the sounds of breaking glass and screaming horns echoed in her ears.

    An arrow whistling past her face broke Autumn from her trance with a flinch. Whipping around towards the shooter, she caught sight of the redcap just as they slumped in their saddle with a crossbow bolt through their neck. Slowly, the dying body slid off the back of their mount to be dragged behind the oblivious wolf.

    Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, another cart full of shrieking goblins crashed into the side of the war-wagon, sending Autumn reeling. Dazed, she sent a barrage of wild jinxes soaring towards the goblins as they flung themselves headfirst at the top of the wagon.

    Autumn¡¯s furious blasts knocked many out of the air like she was skeet-shooting, but not all.

    With wicked blades clutched in their teeth, the armored redcaps clung to the side of the Dreadnought, gibbering wildly in delight.

    The dark-eyed witch of fear wasn¡¯t having it. As the repulsive goblins scampered across the rooftop like spiders, Autumn flung deadly magics their way like a madwoman. Several buckled beneath the harmful rays, tumbling off the war-wagon like rag dolls.

    Yet more still came.

    Out of the corner of her eye, Autumn spotted a copse of blasted trees approaching rapidly and the moment Nethlia decided to ram the goblin cart into it.

    A wicked grin stole over her features. The goblins crawling towards her hesitated upon seeing it.

    Tugging harshly on the reins, Nethlia sent Ursa Ossa roaring into the wolven pack that¡¯d been nipping at his undead heels. The pack yelped as they tried to dodge the armored bear, unknowingly putting them on a collision-course with the trees. Unable to stop, the goblin cart shattered into a shower of splinters as it slammed full-force into the copse.

    The goblins riding atop the Dreadnought stared at the carnage in shock and confusion.

    Autumn snarled, speaking in the savage goblin tongue. ¡°Get the fuck off my ride, you pests! Begone!¡± she screamed, blasting the shocked goblins away with a wave of power.

    Groaning, she rubbed her temples as a headache bloomed.

    ¡°Are you alright up there?¡± Pyre asked, peeking up at Autumn through the hatchway.

    ¡°Just peachy,¡± Autumn grumbled. ¡°Anybody hurt?¡±

    Pyre shook her head. ¡°Not yet, but we had a few close calls with those carts. Can you keep them off us? They keep sticking knives through the arrowslits.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m doing the best I can!¡± Autumn snapped, before taking a breath. ¡°Sorry, there¡¯s a lot going on¡ª hold that thought,¡± she cut herself off hurriedly to send a blast of necromantic might screaming at a goblin leaping from the back of his mount towards the war-wagon. The goblin bounced off the side of the wagon as its flesh melted off and its bones charred.

    ¡°Eww! That got in here, Autumn!¡± Eme cried out from below.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± Autumn called below before turning her attention back to a mildly amused Pyre. ¡°Could I get some help, please?!''¡°

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Pyre said before gingerly handing Autumn a glass sphere full of a roiling orange liquid. ¡°Alchemist Fire. You remember how to use one, right? Shake it hard till it spits, then throw. Far away from us, preferably.¡±

    ¡°I remember,¡± Autumn said as she took the spherical potion-bomb trepidatiously.

    Glancing over at another goblin cart as it pulled up alongside them, Autumn grinned malevolently at the band of screeching goblins. Their own grins of sharp teeth faltered at the sight of the dark-clad witch standing atop the Dreadnought, robes flapping dramatically in the wind.

    As Pyre had instructed her, Autumn shook the sphere until the potion inside the glass glowed and spat. She looked over at the goblins, meeting the eyes of the biggest and meanest-looking. Lobbing the potion underhand, she called out to them.

    ¡°Here, catch!¡±

    Bewildered, the goblin did so. For a moment, nothing happened.

    ¡°Hah, my trinket now¡ª¡± the goblin crowed, just before the potion exploded.

    Liquid flames immolated the one holding the bomb. The smell of cooking meat filled the air alongside pained, terrified screams as alchemical flames engulfed the entire cart. Frightened by the flames, the rabid wolves tore at their harnesses and dragged the burning cart towards a flooded crater as their fur caught fire. However, this was no ordinary fire ¡ª water did not douse it.

    Pale-faced, Autumn watched on in shock as the flames spread across the craterous lake, turning it into a scene from hell.

    Crouching back down, she stared wryly at the cringing alchemist. ¡°You know, I sometimes forget you¡¯re the scariest one of the lot of us.¡±

    Pyre laughed awkwardly, but there was a hint of pride burning in her flaming eyes.

    Autumn looked over at another cart as it rushed towards them. ¡°Got another bomb I could have?¡±

    Silently, Pyre passed her another with a shaky grin.

    The next group of cart-riding goblins that Autumn targeted was smarter than the last. Although, that was a low bar to clear. Having seen what happened to the other cart, they wanted nothing to do with the shiny trinket she tossed their way. However, their ¡°intelligence¡± extended only so far as to not being the one holding the bomb when it exploded rather than tossing it out of their cart.

    Like a lethal game of hot potato, they tossed the glass sphere back and forth between themselves until it exploded, consuming them all and their cart in a blooming fireball.

    Around the flaming wreck, more wolf riders and carts raced, undeterred by the ultraviolence on display.

    Overhead, the skies grew darker and darker as the cawing of crows grew louder and louder.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t help but flinch as a rain of arrows bounced off her rippling shield.

    Relentless, the goblins kept charging the adventurers no matter how many of their brethren they felled with bolt, magic, or blade. They clambered up the Dreadnought¡¯s walls like a skittering tide, weathering death, to throw themselves at the witch standing defiantly atop the dragonbone hold.

    With a grunt, Autumn drove her grim blade into a stunned goblin¡¯s chest and used it as an arrow shield. Dozens of arrows rained down on the goblin¡¯s exposed back. Twisting around, she threw the pincushioned body at another goblin sneaking up behind her, sending both tumbling off the wagon.

    More and more goblins rushed up the wagon¡¯s sides to replace those she¡¯d killed. Snarling, they came, stolen blades in hand.

    Snarling herself, Autumn leveled her wand towards the greentide and poured an ungodly surge of magic into her wand, urging it to cast a half-remembered spell.

    It did so gleefully.

    The dragon roared, and a bolt of thunderous lighting ripped through the gathered horde.

    Autumn fell back with a cry of pain, clutching her shaking hand as static backlash raced up her arm. She staggered back to the hatch as more goblins jumped aboard their swamped craft.

    Hurriedly, she clambered down the ladder just as the goblins reached it. A barrage of bolts met the goblins as they peered down. They tumbled dead into the interior of the war-wagon, much to Autumn¡¯s consternation.

    ¡°Let me take this dance!¡± Liddie cried out cheerfully as she carved her way up the ladder to emerge on the roof, white-gold blade flashing.

    If the goblins thought she¡¯d be an easier target then Autumn, they were in for a rude awakening.

    Autumn panted as she lay amongst broken arrows and fumbled bolts on the once more blood-slick floor. Glancing up, she looked over at her friends and compatriots. Grimly, they kept up a barrage of crossbow fire scything through the greentide scrambling up the outside of the war-wagon with their dwindling supply of ammo.

    As she caught her breath and staggered to her shaking feet, Autumn briefly glanced up the hatch where the chaotic sounds of fighting drifted down. She trusted Liddie to hold her own and retreat like she¡¯d done when necessary.

    ¡°Anyone hurt?¡± she called out.

    Pyre looked over at Autumn as she reloaded her repeating crossbow. ¡°Nothing serious ¡ª just cuts and scrapes. The poison resistance potions we took should stop whatever nasty stuff the goblins smeared onto their arrowheads. Infections too, but we should check over our wounds later.¡±

    ¡°Good, good,¡± Autumn nodded, steading herself on a wall as the war-wagon drifted slightly. ¡°How are we doing on ammo?¡±

    Pyre grimaced. ¡°Not good. Even with us being conservative with our shots, we¡¯re down to less than half, maybe even a third of what we started with.¡±

    ¡°Shit,¡± Autumn swore.

    ¡°You¡¯re telling me,¡± Pyre snorted. ¡°Any chance we¡¯re close enough to the sandstorms to lose these losers?¡± she asked, somewhat desperately.

    ¡°I¡¯ll go check. Keep at it ¡ª the more you kill, the less Liddie has to deal with up top.¡±

    Pyre saluted mockingly, slapping the last bolt into her crossbow¡¯s internal magazine. ¡°Right-o, boss-o!¡±

    Autumn shook her head in amusement as she turned to make her way towards the front. However, just as she took her first step, something crashed into the side of the Dreadnought, knocking it and her off balance. The back of the wagon dipped as it slipped down the slope of the massive crater they¡¯d been running alongside. Above, the open hatch slammed closed with a resounding boom.

    Gravity took a hold of the party and they fell towards the back door.

    ¡°Shit!¡± Autumn cursed as she collided with Edwyn, falling atop them and driving the air from their lungs. Before she could apologize, Eme likewise slammed into Autumn, driving her dragonbone elbow into the witch¡¯s gut. Autumn let out a pained wheeze at the impact.

    Above them, Liddie let out a string of curses as she rolled off the back of the roof. Clutching to the outside of the door, she yelled to the party inside as she dangled above a waterlogged crater. ¡°Let me in! They¡¯re shooting at me out here!¡±

    Scrambling over one another, they unlocked one door and hauled Liddie inside while the wolf archers racing along the crater¡¯s edge fired upon them.

    Just as Liddie was almost fully in, an arrow pierced her thigh.

    ¡°Argh!¡± Liddie screamed in pain. ¡°Gods-fucking-damn-it! My pants! You know how hard it was to find ones like this in my size, you fuckers!¡± she cussed out the goblins safely hidden from her wrath by the relocked doors.

    Autumn let out a laugh. ¡°Don¡¯t worry ¡ª I¡¯ll fix them later. Just hold still and let me remove this arrow. On three. One. Two¡ª¡± she pulled the arrow out on the second count. Hurriedly she stemmed the bleeding while Pyre poured a minor healing potion on the wound.

    Liddie let out a growling laugh. ¡°You fucker! You did that on purpose!¡±

    ¡°It works better if you¡¯re not expecting it,¡± Autumn shrugged. ¡°That way you¡¯re not as tense.¡±

    Outside, Ursa Ossa let out a deafening roar. With a mighty heave, he dug his vast paws into the muddy earth and hauled the dangling Dreadnought out of the flooded crater. Once back on solid ground, Nethlia urged the undead bear onwards, racing towards the desert that lay only a few dozen feet beyond.

    By now, the party had killed a significant portion of the goblin forces chasing them. They lay crushed, skewered, broken, decapitated, drowned, and burned in a gruesome trail behind them.

    Yet, still they came, undaunted.

    Arrows splashed around or bounced ineffectively off the fleeing Dreadnought¡¯s bony hide.

    They were not Autumn¡¯s concern any longer ¡ª the skies were. Light dimmed as the Grand Murder swooped. All Autumn could hear were their screaming caws and her own frightened breathing.

    Dozens of feet became only a couple. Then only one. Then half and half again.

    Suddenly, Ursa Ossa hit the shifting sands with a jolt, his paws failing to find traction for a moment before pulling them into the desert with great bounding strides.

    But a moment was all murder needed.

    The light died.

    Pyre¡¯s flames and lantern light let them see.

    Millions of screaming crows blanketed the wagon, clawing at its dragonbone shell as they sought a way inside. The sound was like a thousand fingernails running down a thousand blackboards. Outside, Ursa Ossa roared and snapped in annoyance as they pecked and clawed at his fake eyes.

    Autumn held her breath as the tension racketed up.

    Through the narrow arrowslits, beady eyes peeked. Before Autumn¡¯s horrified gaze, the dark crows pressed themselves through the gaps far too small for them. Yet somehow, they did. In a flurry of black feathers and sharp talons, they flew towards the party, seeking blinded eyes to pluck.

    In the cramped confines of the war-wagon, Autumn fought like fury. Her hands lashed out at the snapping birds, stilling their little hearts with a pulse of fear.

    However, when she did so, the birds spoke as one in a familiar, hateful voice. ¡°IT¡¯S YOU! LITTLE WITCH!¡± screamed the birds in Mildred¡¯s cruel voice.

    Autumn screamed and things died.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Five: Lost in a Sandstorm

    Outside the Dreadnought¡¯s walls, the sandstorms raged. Scouring sands battered the ivory hull, seeking to strip exposed flesh from bone. Yet for all their divine fury, they found no purchase of the dragonbone. No flesh to strip. Cloth blankets covered the narrow arrowslits, allowing not even the smallest grain inside.

    Long had the grand murder departed, fleeing the wrath of sand, the slowest of them torn asunder.

    The wounded adventurers huddled within their sanctuary of bone, tending to the damage dealt by the swarming flock.

    Autumn carefully examined Liddie¡¯s eye in the soft lantern light. A trio of scratches lined the pirate¡¯s orange orb. She hissed as Autumn pulled back her eyelid to get a better look.

    ¡°Stop whining, you big baby,¡± Autumn rebuked her. ¡°It¡¯s just a scratch.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, on my eye!¡± Liddie shot back. She¡¯d been understandably upset at having been blinded by an unlucky strike. ¡°Tell it to me straight ¡ª am I still pretty?¡± she joked.

    Autumn raised an eyebrow at her. ¡°Still? You were pretty before?¡±

    ¡°Ouch!¡± Liddie laughed. ¡°You wound me! Shouldn¡¯t healers have good bedside manners?¡±

    ¡°I left mine behind with the rest of our gear,¡± Autumn snarked. ¡°Now hold still and let me concentrate.¡±

    Ignoring Liddie¡¯s restrained chuckles, she let her magic flow into the grim wound.

    Inferni eyes were strange, Autumn concluded after a moment of inspection. Rather than possessing an iris and pupil, they instead had a thin membrane beneath their cornea that filtered the light for them, reflecting any excess as a soft glow. Likely an adaptation to aid them when they¡¯d lived in the burning hells. Within the eye, they had a larger lens than a human¡¯s and far more rods and cones to receive light. Likely this was to compensate for the filtered vision. Naturally, this meant they could see more in lower light conditions.

    Thankfully for Autumn¡¯s burgeoning ophthalmology, she still had another, healthier eye to compare the wounded one with. Using it as reference, the witch slowly worked the cuts back together.

    Liddie grit her teeth as the magic crawled across her eyeball like a thousand ants.

    When the cuts were as healed as Autumn could reasonably make them, she held out a hand to Pyre beside her. ¡°Potion, please,¡± she asked, and received a small gauze cloth that¡¯d been dipped in a minor healing potion. Holding it above Liddie¡¯s eye, Autumn dripped a drop onto it.

    ¡°Blink for me,¡± Autumn instructed Liddie.

    The pirate did so, letting the magical potion wash over her eye.

    While Autumn didn¡¯t want to risk anything she might¡¯ve missed, she couldn¡¯t justify using more than a drop of their meager supply. Still, it should be enough to bring Liddie¡¯s vision back to a hundred percent.

    ¡°How¡¯s it looking?¡± Autumn asked. ¡°Any spots?¡±

    Covering one eye, Liddie blinked a few times before switching to the other and doing the same. ¡°No. None that I can see.¡±

    ¡°Looks like you don¡¯t need to pick out an eyepatch just yet,¡± Pyre snarked. ¡°Pity, it might¡¯ve improved your looks.¡±

    Liddie smirked at Pyre. ¡°What? Like it did you?¡±

    Pyre snarled, her green scars wrinkling. She tossed an unmistakingly rude gesture towards Liddie. ¡°How about you go fuck yourself.¡±

    ¡°Aright, enough!¡± Autumn snapped. Standing up, she brushed the grains of sand off her pants. ¡°If you two are going to snipe at one another, do it without me in the middle.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be like that, love,¡± Liddie chirped, slinging an arm around Pyre¡¯s shoulder. The younger girl tried unsuccessfully to shrug her off. ¡°We were only joking around.¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes. ¡°Whatever, I¡¯m going to check on the others. Don¡¯t kill each other while I¡¯m gone. Or if you do, I¡¯ll turn you into a zombie or something.¡±

    Saying so, she walked away, heading towards the front.

    Behind her, she heard Liddie laugh nervously. ¡°She¡¯s joking, right? She won¡¯t actually do that¡­Hey, Autumn, you won¡¯t turn me into a zombie, right? Autumn? And she¡¯s ignoring us.¡±

    ¡°Ignoring you, maybe,¡± Pyre said. ¡°Get your arm off me!¡±

    Liddie squawked. ¡°Ahh! You elbowed me in the gills, you bitch!¡±

    ¡°Ew! Gross!¡±

    Autumn heaved a sigh as the bickering continued on behind her. Looking over the others, she saw that while they all were mildly battered and bruised, nobody else was as injured as Liddie had been. Stepping over the piles of broken crow bodies and puddles of blood slowly soaking into the leather, she nodded to both Nelva and Edwyn before stopping beside a napping Eme.

    The catgirl was softly snoring as she leaned against the hide-clad walls. She stank of sweat, vomit, and blood. Luckily, only two of the three were her own.

    When Autumn gently nudged her, she snapped awake in an instant, heart pounding and tail bushy. Upon seeing it was just Autumn who¡¯d woken her, she calmed.

    ¡°Oh, hi. You need something?¡± she asked with a yawn.

    ¡°Just checking up on you,¡± Autumn replied. ¡°How are you doing?¡±

    Eme shrugged. ¡°A bit tired after all that fighting. That was crazy, right? Tell me I¡¯m not the only one freaking out right now,¡± she almost begged.

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re not the only one ¡ª I wasn¡¯t expecting so many of them to be there. It looked so deserted from the outside. I was so sure they¡¯d sent most of their forces up north and we could just sneak past the few down here,¡± she said, sighing. ¡°Guess I was wrong.¡±

    ¡°Maybe you weren¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡± Autumn asked curiously. A gust of wind rocked the wagon, forcing her to steady herself on the leather-lined wall. She grimaced as her hand came away wet.

    Eme bit her lip as she contemplated. ¡°Maybe¡­maybe you weren¡¯t wrong and they did send the majority of their forces up north and what we faced was the reserve.¡±

    Autumn paled. ¡°Shit. I mean, I saw the fighting up north with Liddie, but still, we killed a lot of goblins. How many times larger is the main force if that was what they could spare to defend the least valuable fort?¡±

    The pair descended into a grim silence.

    Beside them, the cloth blankets covering the arrowslits snapped and undulated loudly as the wind battered them. Looking over the hasty additions, Autumn sighed ¡ª another thing to add to her to-do list. With that and the seatbelts, she was starting to think she missed a lot.

    ¡°Uh, Autumn? Can I ask you something?¡± Eme asked quietly, interrupting Autumn¡¯s thoughts.

    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    Autumn blinked, looking back to the nervous catgirl. ¡°Sure? What¡¯s up?¡±

    Eme furrowed her brows for a moment before speaking. ¡°I, uh, wanted to know how you did that. How you killed all the birds around us by screaming. It¡­it sounded so strange. The¡­music didn¡¯t like it,¡± the bard gestured around at sounds only she could hear.

    At her question, Autumn blushed in mortification and looked away. Piles of crows glared back at her accusingly with their dead beady, red eyes.

    Autumn hadn¡¯t exactly intended to unleash such a scream of fright upon them. She¡¯d done it instinctively. Honestly, she was beyond mortified for having done it ¡ª it felt like the magical equivalent of wetting herself.

    Coughing slightly to cover her blush, Autumn replied to Eme¡¯s curious gaze. ¡°I, uh, don¡¯t know. It just happened. I didn¡¯t know what to do. There were so many of them,¡± she shuddered, remembering the sharp beaks seeking her eyes. Remembered their bones crunching and hearts stilling in her grasp. ¡°I just¡­filled my voice with fear and screamed.¡±

    ¡°It kinda sounded like a banshee¡¯s wail,¡± Eme shivered, her ears flattening to her skull.

    ¡°Did it?¡± Autumn shook her head. ¡°Maybe I was inspired? Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t as powerful as a real one or we¡¯d all be dead.¡± She shivered, and it wasn¡¯t because of the cold ¡ª against her breast, the soulcage thrummed in prideful agreement. ¡°Birds just have weaker hearts, I guess. It only took a miniscule thread of fear to stop them.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Eme shuddered. ¡°Looks like I now know what your spells feel like, huh.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s heart felt like ice in her chest. All she could say was, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    Eme hurriedly waved off Autumn¡¯s words, mustering up a cheerful smile. ¡°No, you don¡¯t need to apologize. You saved us. Besides, I should¡¯ve trained with you before and learnt how to deal with it. It¡¯s my fault, if anyone''s.¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t know what to say to that.

    ¡°Um, I should check up on Nethlia and make sure we¡¯re not lost or anything. Can you clean up all these birds?¡± Autumn asked, nudging one aside with her foot.

    Eme perked up, her tail quivering with excitement. ¡°Oh! Are we going to eat them? I can make my famous bird pie! You haven¡¯t had bird pie until you¡¯ve had mine!¡±

    ¡°Famous?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Eme drawled slyly, ¡°famous in my family, at least. Me and my siblings used to hunt birds all the time when we were younger. We¡¯d compete to see who was the best cook. I always won!¡± the catgirl preened.

    Autumn giggled, unable to resist Eme¡¯s infectious enthusiasm. ¡°Alright, alright. We¡¯ll see about cooking something once we find somewhere to camp.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a deal!¡± Eme crowed, amusingly enough. ¡°You just wait!¡±

    Autumn quickly covered her grin with her hand as she let out another quiet giggle. Turning around, she left Eme to collect the dead birds and made her way into the driver¡¯s compartment.

    Blood, sand, and broken feathers littered the floor within. Picking her way over the carpet of gore, Autumn shielded her eyes from the harsh sands blowing in through the window. While the lip she¡¯d made over the outside of the window fended off a majority of the sand, more and more grains tumbled inside as the sandstorm aggressively blasted the Dreadnought.

    Brushing guts and torn bodies off her seat, Autumn plopped herself down with a wince. Her tailbone still stung mightily.

    Nethlia looked over at Autumn¡¯s entrance. Like the others, the flock of murderous crows had attacked her with a suicidal savagery. Or at least they tried to. The berserker had met them with a savagery of her own. To the bird¡¯s short-lived shock, they¡¯d found little purchase on her thick skin and armored furs. And any that¡¯d gone for her eyes had found themselves crushed or bitten in half.

    ¡°Early lunch?¡± Autumn asked humorously as she gingerly picked up one of the birds that¡¯d fallen afoul of the demoness¡¯ sharp fangs, before tossing it aside.

    Nethlia grinned, showing off her canines. ¡°I got peckish up here on my own. That scream before you?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn blushed. ¡°Just dealing with our stowaways. It seemed pretty effective. Eme says she¡¯s going to make her famous bird pie.¡±

    ¡°Famous?¡± Nethlia cocked an eyebrow.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°So she says. She looked pretty excited about it. Gives her something to do, at least,¡± she said, before turning away to look out the window at the landscape beyond.

    There wasn¡¯t much to see ¡ª the sandstorms choked the skies with a golden haze. Everything beyond Ursa Ossa was lost in the fury of nature.

    Autumn felt bad about her undead bear being out there, struggling to pull the floating fortress that was the Dreadnought through the shifting sands as the wild winds battered them about. While he didn¡¯t have any flesh left to lose, the sands would still be accumulated in his joints and beneath his armored plates. She doubted it was a pleasant experience.

    She¡¯d have to do something nice for him later.

    Another gust sent them skittering across the dunes. Grumbling, Autumn clung tightly to her seat.

    ¡°Do you know where we¡¯re going?¡± Autumn asked Nethlia, concern lacing her voice. ¡°I can¡¯t see a thing out there.¡±

    Nethlia shook her head, her new helm making the movements more aggressive. ¡°No. I lost the path. We need to find somewhere to hunker down until the sandstorm moves on.¡±

    ¡°Is that a good idea?¡± Autumn spoke over her. ¡°The hag knows we¡¯re here now. The longer we take, the more time she has to prepare for us.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve got no choice,¡± Nethlia shrugged. She pointed out at the storm raging outside. ¡°We¡¯re not getting through this.¡± As if to prove her point, the shifting sands gave way beneath Ursa Ossa, sending the undead bear tumbling down. The gusting winds stole away his roar of discontent and frustration. ¡°We need to get out of the winds or we¡¯ll eventually be blown away.¡±

    ¡°Is there even anywhere for us to shelter? A large dune, perhaps?¡±

    ¡°There is,¡± Nethlia nodded firmly, drawing Autumn¡¯s attention. She pointed out once more, this time vaguely to the east. ¡°I saw a large ruin in the distance when we were rushing towards the desert. I¡¯ve angled us in that direction the best I could. Hopefully, we are still on course. Keep an eye out for it, would you?¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°I can do that.¡±

    Scanning the horizon, Autumn sat beside Nethlia for the next few hours as they pressed valiantly through the raging sandstorm. However, they gained little distance for all the time they spent.

    Autumn had time to think during their long journey. Her mind kept replaying the hectic violence of before. Of the screams of crows and her own. Her knuckles turned white on the leather. Her heart beat heavier and harder in her chest as sweat dripped down her spine.

    Focusing, the dark-eyed witch funneled that anxiety and dread deep into her hat while under her breath she hummed a song from home.

    ¡°When the dreamer dies, so does the dream. Turn me inside out, soak me in bleach. Soak me, soak me, soak me in bleach~ I¡¯m buried alive, life buries me. Cover my body, soak me in bleach. Soak me, soak me, soak me in bleach~¡±

    While she didn¡¯t want to be too dramatic, the lyrics spoke to her. As her words echoed out over the dunes, Eme joined in from behind her, providing an accompanying beat and melody.

    Unsurprisingly, the catgirl bard was fairly good at it, despite it being a literally otherworldly song.

    Just as Autumn was finishing up the song and preparing to sing another, she spotted the ruins they sought briefly through the swirling sandstorm. ¡°Over there!¡± she yelled, pointing in the direction they vanished once more.

    Nethlia pulled on the reins harshly, guiding Ursa Ossa towards where she¡¯d pointed.

    As they grew ever closer, the ruins unveiled themselves.

    A worn facade of an ancient temple lay carved into a sandstone cliff that emerged from the shifting dunes like a colossal beast breaking through a golden surf. Adornments of gold had long since flaked away, stolen by the violent winds. Only the barest hint of their presence remained on the sandstone carvings. A door, grand beyond grand, loomed larger than life in the dead center of this ruined temple¡¯s face, flanked on either side by twin giant statues whose features time and sand had worn away. Autumn couldn¡¯t even tell what race they¡¯d once depicted other than being humanoid.

    Slowly, the Dreadnought brought the party closer to the ruins, until it stood tiny beneath its imposing height.

    A wide set of sandstone steps led towards the yawning portal that was the magnificent door. Flowing sands had layered themselves into the steps, turning them into a smooth ramp.

    The party had gathered behind Autumn and Nethlia to gaze up at the ancient structure with various expressions of awe.

    ¡°Imagine how much treasure is in there,¡± Liddie broke the silence first, her face flashing with greed. She whistled. ¡°I bet it¡¯s a lot. A lost temple in a lost desert? Gotta be tons of loot.¡±

    ¡°Is treasure all you think about?¡± Nelva asked disapprovingly. ¡°We¡¯ve no idea how long this temple has been here. It could be filled with all sorts of historical artifacts.¡±

    ¡°Or curses,¡± Autumn added helpfully.

    ¡°Pssh.¡± Liddie waved them off. ¡°We can handle a few curses or whatever. And historical artifacts make the best loot!¡±

    Nethlia broke in, averting the growing argument. Her hands were tight around the leather reins and face pinched as she stared up at the looming ruins. ¡°We aren¡¯t looking to stay long ¡ª just until the sandstorm passes. Come on, let¡¯s get in there and out of the winds. I hear we¡¯re having a famous pie for lunch.¡±

    Eme blushed, sending a pout Autumn¡¯s way. Clearing her throat, she nodded. ¡°Uh, yeah. Yeah! I¡¯ll, uh, make a fruit pie or something for you too Nelva.¡±

    ¡°That is most kind of you,¡± Nelva dipped her head, smiling.

    Gazing up at the darksome entry into the ancient temple, Nethlia let out a sigh before lashing the reins. Slowly, Ursa Ossa led them deep into the temple where no light dwelled and out of the storm. ¡°Once more into the dark, we go. To depths below where treasure awaits,¡± the demoness whispered an old delver¡¯s mantra. ¡°Where monsters snap, and claw, and bite. Await our return not, for only gods know if we shall emerge once more or slumber in darken graves forevermore. But glory and wealth shall be our prize.¡±

    With that, the dark swallowed them.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Six: The Tomb of Suthirmesses III

    Fleeing the wrath of a raging sandstorm, the party entered the darksome temple. Behind them, the storm seethed at having been denied. It lashed out at the temple¡¯s face with battering winds and coarse sands, sending golden waves flooding through the massive, yawning doors in search of the retreating adventurers.

    Great paws thundered through a long hallway, coming to a grinding halt within a lightless chamber at its end.

    Autumn was the first to disembark when the Dreadnought came to a stop. Stepping out, she held a magical lantern high to banish the darkness. The creeping shadows skittered away from her sight to linger in the far-flung corners and crevices, awaiting the death of light.

    Her steps echoed loudly as she curiously surveyed the chamber they¡¯d sequestered themselves.

    Thick pillars ran down either side of a wide hall, towering over Autumn as they stretched up to a grand ceiling looming high above in the darkness where lantern-light could not reach. Between these rows of columns sat a dried out pool that¡¯d once held crystalline waters and flowering lilies.

    Now, only sand decorated it.

    Glancing around the vast room further, Autumn made a curious discovery. Weather scripts and once colorful murals decorated every surface besides the floor. Flaking blue and gold paint turned the drab sandstone into a riot of color, if somewhat faded.

    Naturally, Autumn could read these strange hieroglyphics. Mostly. Time and the elements had degraded them till she could only pick out a few disjointed words.

    The faded murals decorating the walls depicted bronze-skinned elves dressed in white linens and golden jewelry as they worshiped animal-headed gods.

    ¡°Curious and curiouser,¡± Autumn murmured as she shined her light upon the painted gods. Did something of this culture bleed over into her world? Or perhaps the opposite?

    It was hardly the first strange occurrence. Many fables and fictions of her world she found to be true here. Ghouls, goblins, and gods. Who knows what else might¡¯ve washed between worlds.

    Just as Autumn was turning back to the group, her light glinted off a giant seated at the far end of the hall, staring at her unblinkingly. Autumn froze. Her heart pounded in her chest like a beaten drum. Sweat dripped down her spine. Instinctively, she wanted to bolt.

    Autumn swallowed down the instinctive cry of alarm and raised her lantern high as she took a nervous step towards the giant.

    The light of her lantern washed over the figure, unveiling a statue before the witch¡¯s eyes.

    Breathing a sigh of relief, Autumn lowered her lantern. She was glad she didn¡¯t call out to her friends for help now ¡ª they¡¯d likely never let her live it down.

    Autumn stepped closer, curious despite her initial fright. Or perhaps because of it.

    Standing before a massive gilded throne, she beheld a statue of a man with the head of a bird sitting imperiously upon it. A thin curved beak extended down to the middle of the statue¡¯s masculine chest. Polished sapphires the size of her fist glinted in place of eyes, shining with far too much intelligence for a simple statue. A golden headdress and collar set with blue glass framed the statue¡¯s avian head while a white-painted skirt adorned its waist and upper thighs. From the statue¡¯s torso stretched a pair of lanky arms, coming to a rest upon the throne¡¯s armrests. In one hand, it held a rod of purest gold, in the other nothing but an empty palm held heavenward.

    Autumn shivered as the light played across the statue¡¯s eyes, making them twinkle as if the figure before her was watching her intently.

    At the base of the throne, one engraved word had survived the ravages of time.

    Suthir.

    ¡°Think that¡¯s real gold?¡±

    Autumn yelped as Liddie spoke up beside her without warning.

    Clutching at her thundering chest, she glared at the grinning pirate. ¡°What was that?¡± she asked after a moment.

    Liddie nodded towards the statue. ¡°I asked if you thought that was actually gold. That headdress and collar, I mean. If it is, then that¡¯s a lot of coin just sitting there ¡ª it¡¯d be worth taking just for its weight in gold itself~¡± she sang, gold coins practically clinking in her eyes already.

    From Autumn¡¯s other side, Nelva spoke, causing the witch to jump again. ¡°Perhaps you shouldn¡¯t loot a temple, yes? Or at least wait to know which god you will annoy first?¡±

    Autumn gave the knight and pirate half-hearted glares. ¡°Could you two not sneak up on me?¡± she grumbled. Louder, she said, ¡°well, this word here says Suthir. I¡¯m guessing that¡¯s the name of this god considering the word survived when others didn¡¯t.¡±

    As she spoke the name, both Liddie and Nelva gave the statue another look.

    ¡°Suthir?¡± Nelva asked. ¡°Are you sure that¡¯s what it said?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. Why? Do you know the name?¡±

    Nelva nodded. ¡°Yes, I do ¡ª it¡¯s the name of the god of time. Luckily, he is one of the noble pantheon. Funnily enough, his month is the first of the autumn season. It is curious to see him depicted like this. I¡¯ve never seen him represented by a bird-headed man before.¡±

    Autumn gave the statue another look, more cautious this time. The god of time seemed to look back. Although, that could¡¯ve just been her overactive imagination.

    ¡°What is he usually represented as?¡±

    ¡°Usually?¡± Nelva asked, ¡°Well, that depends on the culture. Most gods in our world don¡¯t keep to a single form when they interact with mortals. If they do at all.¡± Gazing up at the statue of a god, she took on a lecturing tone. ¡°Most local cultures see Suthir as a swirling constellation that blankets the night sky, or an elemental of dust taller than even the highest mountain. Others of the more magical persuasion see him as a masked mage ¡ª he is known as the master of magic as well as time. I¡¯ve even seen him illustrated as a carp that devours the stars. Although, that was a rather esoteric book I found that illustration in.¡±

    Behind the Lepus knight, Liddie mimed herself dying of boredom.

    Autumn gave her a pointed look. ¡°So what you¡¯re saying is don¡¯t desecrate the temple of a god that eats stars and controls time?¡±

    ¡°What? Not even a little looting?¡± Liddie pouted. ¡°How about just a gemstone or two? I¡¯m sure the god of time would like to see wealth like that re-enter circulation.¡± The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    Sighing, Nelva turned her eyes heavenward, seeking guidance. Unluckily, or luckily depending on how you view it, the god of time didn¡¯t answer her prayers for salvation from idiots. Or just one idiot in particular.

    ¡°Oui. Do not loot this place, is what I¡¯m saying. I do not wish to be cursed alongside you. Do it in your own time if you must, but leave me out of it. Now come ¡ª Nethlia asked me to fetch you two to set up camp and clean out the wagon while we wait out the storm.¡±

    As they followed Nelva back to the wagon, Autumn turned to Liddie. ¡°Adding to what she said, if you steal something and Suthir doesn¡¯t curse you, I will.¡±

    ¡°You hear that, o¡¯ valiant knight of ours? I¡¯ve been threatened with curses by a foul witch!¡± Liddie dramatically proclaimed. ¡°Isn¡¯t one of your vows to save damsels in distress, or something?¡±

    ¡°Damsel?¡± Nelva asked incredulously. ¡°Where? When did you steal one of those?¡±

    Autumn let out a snort at Nelva¡¯s joke.

    While Nelva¡¯s joke wasn¡¯t all that funny, Autumn couldn¡¯t help but laugh. The burbling sound just seemed to escape her. Before long, the other two joined in and the tension that¡¯d been plaguing them drained away.

    It felt good to laugh, even over the silliest things.

    Upon reaching camp, Autumn parted with Liddie and Nelva, heading over to Ursa Ossa. The undead bear let out a piteous whine upon seeing her.

    ¡°Yes, I know. You can stop crying, you big baby,¡± Autumn soothed the upset bear. ¡°You got sand in your joints, didn¡¯t you? Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll clean you.¡±

    Ursa Ossa let out a ghostly, rumbling chuffing as Autumn used magic to clean out the blood and sand from between his joints. Once done, she took a wet cloth and wiped the bear down. When they were squeaky clean, she patched up the minor cuts and scrapes he¡¯d collected during their fraught flight through the goblin fortress and beyond.

    ¡°Open,¡± Autumn commanded with a tap on the undead bear¡¯s snout.

    Obediently, Ursa Ossa opened his jaw. Autumn wrinkled her nose as she picked out the goblin bits stuck between his teeth. Soon his pearly whites gleamed in the lantern light.

    ¡°All done,¡± Autumn said with a satisfied sigh. She wiped the sweat from her brow as she patted the happier bear.

    Unfortunately, Ursa Ossa wasn¡¯t the only thing that needed cleaning. The Dreadnought too was in a disgraceful state. Outside, Goblin guts and blood clung to the fantastical carvings and arrowslits while inside they¡¯d soaked into the leather. A few bodies needed to be taken out. And a myriad of broken arrows and bolts littered the floor.

    Fortunately, magic and conscription made light work of the mess. A grumbling Edwyn saw to the disposal of the greenskin bodies. They dumped them in the nearby empty pool for her to deal with later. For the blood and guts, Autumn used her magical cleaning charm. It took a few castings to get all of the stubborn blood out, but she managed it in the end.

    After the interior was clean, Autumn set about making a few heavy-duty seatbelts as she¡¯d vowed to do. Using the last of the hides, she crafted seatbelts for the driver and passengers seats up front while in the back replaced the hanging leather straps with a set of folding seats and harnesses along the walls like she¡¯d seen in military transport planes. They weren¡¯t much, but it was better than nothing.

    Unfortunately, at this point, she ran out of hide and bone so had nothing to work with to replace the cloth covering the arrowslits. So she left them in place for now.

    With that done, Autumn cleaned out the broken arrows and collected the discarded bolts to make a tally of their remaining ammo. The count was grim. Of the 200ish bolts they¡¯d started out with, only around 60 remained. Less even, as fumbled reloads and misfires had damaged some.

    Unless they found more, they¡¯d all have to be more conservative with their shots. Not something she could guarantee, given what they faced.

    Autumn stepped back out of the war-wagon, satisfied with her work. Looking around, she searched for where the others had disappeared to.

    It didn¡¯t take long to find them.

    Eme had taken a leaf out of Autumn¡¯s book and conscripted the others to help her prepare their early lunch/dinner. They were all gathered around the cooking area, slaving away as they plucked and gutted the piles of crows with varying levels of enthusiasm. Pyre in particular looked mildly put out at being turned into a scullery maid.

    Autumn would¡¯ve thought the apprentice alchemist was used to preparing ingredients for someone else, albeit for potions rather than a pie. Perhaps that was the reason she looked so surly.

    Either way, it wasn¡¯t her problem.

    As she didn¡¯t want to be conscripted herself, Autumn slunk away, even if the idea of heading over to taunt them with her freedom was compelling. With a magical lantern in hand, the witch set out in search of intact hieroglyphics to read. Her hope was to find something that¡¯d explain just what this temple was doing way out here, lost in the desert.

    <hr>

    For almost an hour, Autumn wandered. She moved between faded scripts and weathered murals, slowly piecing together the dark tale they weaved. What the ancient elves had to tell her was both a fascinating and disturbing read.

    For one, this place they¡¯d found themselves wasn¡¯t a temple but a tomb. A prison. One for a pharaoh nonetheless.

    The Tomb of Suthirmesses III.

    Once a mighty ruler, Suthirmesses III ¡ª a name that meant born of Suthir ¡ª inherited a sprawling desert kingdom. Under his reign, the dynasty flourished. Wars were won without compare. Fields of grain overflowed their storehouses. Mines disgorged wealth with abundance. And gold ran through the streets and markets like water. From every far-flung corner of the kingdom, exotic slaves were sold within its capital.

    Seemingly, nothing was beyond the pharaoh¡¯s reach.

    Except for one thing.

    One day, an old woman of pacts and deals came to the great and powerful pharaoh and offered him that which he could not obtain ¡ª immortality.

    And thus, an empire of sand was ruined.

    Autumn¡¯s eyes bore into the faded mural of the prostrated wise woman. Into the hag. No matter the false trappings she adorned herself in, Autumn could recognize Mildred¡¯s hateful visage. The artist had captured the cruel gleam in her eyes perfectly.

    Reading on, she learned that the ruler¡¯s gift wasn¡¯t for free, but whatever he¡¯d paid was lost to time ¡ª the markings worn too much to read.

    Under the now immortal pharaoh¡¯s extended lifespan, the kingdom grew for centuries. It glutted itself on his neighbors and once allied nations until the kingdom¡¯s borders stretched to the edges of the known world. Neverending was the dynasty¡¯s greed and once there was nothing left to devour without, it turned within.

    And as they say, with great wealth came great problems.

    Noble parties and orgies grew in scope and scale within the capital, their gluttony and greed beggaring the kingdom. Grain stores ran dry beneath the yolk of a failing bureaucracy and callous dictator. Millions starved or fell to rampant disease and infighting. Soon, blood ran through the streets as freely as gold had once done.

    Rebellions raged across the kingdom, sparked by tyranny. The people¡¯d had enough. They stormed the pharaoh¡¯s golden palace, and after great horror and bloodshed, entombed Suthirmesses III alongside his surviving loyal guards, servants, and advisors here to be watched over for all eternity by the wise Suthir himself.

    A riddle written shedded light on where and how to access this hidden tomb.

    ¡°By three keys did they lock the ruler away, then hid within. By two weights, did they shut the way. And by one gift, did they seal it from sin. None of blackest heart could find the entrance forevermore.¡±

    Autumn scratched her head as she re-read the riddle out loud.

    One line of text caught her eye. ¡°By sin the unkind ruler gained his gifts. By sin he forged a weapon/a way to harm the gift-giver. By sin it rests within his arms.¡±

    The word ¡°weapon¡± didn¡¯t translate properly, coming across to her as ¡°a way to harm.¡±

    While there was no guarantee this ¡°weapon¡± was a physical item, if the gift-giver was indeed Mildred then perhaps it was designed to harm her?

    Autumn bit her lip as she contemplated. Would it not be in their interest to find such a weapon or item?

    Sure, there were bound to be untold traps and dangers within the tomb meant to keep both looters away and the immortal pharaoh locked within, but they were an experienced team. Would the risks not be worth increasing their chances of killing the hag?

    Autumn sure thought so. She was willing to confront whatever sin lay within. But, it wasn¡¯t just her decision to make.

    Squaring her shoulders, the dark-eyed witch turned away and headed back to camp where the smell of freshly baked pies greeted her.

    Unbeknown to her, sapphire eyes glinted behind her in the fading light as they watched her go.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Seven: Emeâ€™s Famous Bird Pie

    Eme¡¯s famous bird pie was as delicious as promised. The fruit pie she¡¯d made for Nelva, less so, but that was more of a consequence of having to use dried fruits rather than a comment on the catgirl¡¯s cooking skills. Still, the Lepus knight seemed to enjoy it well enough.

    Nobody spoke as they ate in companionable silence other than to complement Eme¡¯s dish. The catgirl preened under the attention, even if her face alighted in a blush at the praise.

    By the time Autumn felt full, she¡¯d devoured two full slices of bird pie and a smaller taste of the fruit one. The others had likewise eaten their fair share. However, even with the vast amounts of food the party could put away, there were still some of the multiple pies Eme had cooked leftover. A testament to just how many birds they¡¯d killed.

    While Autumn would¡¯ve liked to just sit in the afterglow of a good meal forever, all good things had to end.

    Into the silence she spoke, telling the others of what she¡¯d found. Of the tomb hidden away and of the ancient, immortal, and likely evil pharaoh imprisoned within. She told them of the possibility of finding a weapon forged to harm or even kill the hag they sought to end.

    As her tale wound to a close, the rest of the party sat in contemplative silence.

    Autumn swallowed nervously as she glanced at everyone. ¡°So? What do you guys think? Should we explore this tomb while we wait out the storm or not? Even if we don¡¯t find this weapon, there might be other things within it that might help us.¡±

    The others glanced between themselves, seeing who was going to speak first.

    Nethlia said nothing. With a tense jaw, she bore holes into the floor with an unwavering gaze, absentmindedly rubbing at the scars she¡¯d gained a lifetime ago.

    Seeing as their captain wasn¡¯t going to speak first, Nelva did. She shook her head as she spoke. ¡°Non, it¡¯s too much of a risk. We don¡¯t even know if this ¡®weapon¡¯ is real or if it can actually harm the hag. And we cannot risk unleashing this great evil onto the world. I am sorry, but my vote is no.¡±

    ¡°I disagree,¡± Liddie interjected, cutting Autumn off before she could speak. ¡°Vehemently.¡±

    ¡°Wow, I didn¡¯t know you knew that word,¡± Pyre said.

    Liddie ignored her and continued on blithely. ¡°Where¡¯s your sense of adventure? This is a golden opportunity for us, pun thoroughly intended. Ok, while I admit robbing a temple isn¡¯t the wisest of ideas, doing so to a tomb is totally different! It¡¯s a time-honored tradition amongst adventurers! And the gods don¡¯t care one bit! Why else do you think the makers of these places need to go to such lengths to trap and hide them? If gods didn¡¯t want people to find and loot them, they never would.¡±

    ¡°Aye, but what o¡¯ the traps, girlie?¡± Edwyn added gruffly. ¡°Ye said so yerself that they trap these places to high heavens. In my experience, it¡¯s always worse than yer expectin¡¯ it tae be. I¡¯ll go wit¡¯ what the group decides, but I dinnae think it¡¯s a risk we need tae be takin¡¯.¡±

    Liddie snorted. ¡°Way to sit on the fence, Edwyn.¡±

    The Runelord Manus ignored her as they helped themselves to another piece of pie. Eme happily helped dish out another slice.

    ¡°What about you two?¡± Autumn asked Pyre and Eme. ¡°What do you think we should do?¡±

    Pyre and Eme exchanged a quick glance.

    Frowning, Pyre pushed the last of her pie around her mess tin. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Like Nelva said, it¡¯s a risk, but there might be useful alchemical ingredients in there or potions we could use,¡± she said, biting her lip. A green light flashed in her eye as she thought. ¡°I¡ªI don¡¯t know. We¡¯re in enough danger as is ¡ª why should we go looking for more?¡±

    Beside her, Eme shrugged, a carefree smile adorning her face. It was fake. ¡°I¡¯ll do whatever you want to do, Autumn. It sounds like fun. Exploring an ancient tomb would look good on my b-bardic college application, right?¡±

    Autumn nodded, sending a reassuring smile the catgirl¡¯s way.

    ¡°Three for and three against. Looks like it¡¯s up to you, Net,¡± Autumn said to the quiet demoness, making sure not to color her voice either way. ¡°What do you think we should do?¡±

    For a long moment, Nethlia stayed silent, her leg bouncing rapidly in place as she thought. Running a hand through her wild hair, she glanced around at the others awaiting her judgment. With an explosive sigh, she spoke. ¡°Alright, fine. We¡¯ll do it. But!¡± she added, interrupting Liddie¡¯s cheer. ¡°We¡¯ll do it right. That means no splitting up, we check every step and container for traps, and if I say we leave, we leave. Is that clear?¡±

    Autumn smiled. ¡°As crystal.¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Ok, so tell me the riddle again,¡± Liddie asked as they stood before the statue of Suthir.

    Once they¡¯d decided on entering the tomb, the party had quickly spread out to look for the entrance hidden somewhere within the hall. However, no matter how much or how thoroughly they examined the walls and floor for cracks, crevices, or concealing magic, they could not find it. None of the faded murals or scripts shed any light on its whereabouts, either.

    At a loss for what to do, they¡¯d all gathered around the statue of Suthir, guessing it likely held a key to unveiling the surprisingly well hidden door.

    Clearing her throat, Autumn recited the lines once more. ¡°By three keys did they lock the ruler away, then hid within. By two weights, did they shut the way. And by one gift, did they seal it from sin. None of blackest heart could find the entrance forevermore.¡±

    Edwyn grunted. ¡°Seal, in this case, likely means conceal. Given how we cannae find the blasted thing.¡±

    ¡°Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, Edwyn.¡± Liddie rolled her eyes. ¡°Ugh, why did they need to make it so complicated?! Give me a good old lock and we¡¯d already be inside by now!¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s likely why they didn¡¯t do so,¡± Nelva said, amused. She turned to Autumn and nodded towards the statue¡¯s raised palm as she spoke. ¡°Could a gift also mean an offering?¡±

    Autumn hummed. ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± she hedged. ¡°Those words are certainly interchangeable. But that still leaves the question of what to offer,¡± she mused. ¡°Uh, by the way, are the sins mentioned here the same as the ones I know from my world? Things like Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, and Sloth?¡±

    ¡°Some of those, yes,¡± Nelva nodded. ¡°Others not so much. It depends on culture. Wrath, for example, is a virtue to those who follow Nusraura. But it is a controlled wrath, not wild.¡±

    ¡°Sins here just refer to anything that would consign you to the hells,¡± Nethlia added with a shrug as she pondered over the riddle.

    Autumn nodded. ¡°That¡¯s what they mean back home too, but I always thought it was more metaphorical than literal. Now I¡¯m not so sure. Maybe our hells are the same, just known differently? I mean, they share a lot of similarities.¡±

    ¡°Sure, maybe, but let¡¯s not get off topic.¡±

    ¡°What was the phrasing again?¡± Eme asked, tilting her head curiously to the side as she looked up at the statue.

    ¡°¡®By one gift, did they seal it from sin.¡¯ So maybe it means we need to give a virtuous gift? But the other line mentions that ¡®none of blackest heart¡¯ could find it, so maybe only an innocent person can open it?¡± Autumn shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell.¡±

    ¡°How in the fiery hells are we going to find an innocent person around here?¡± Liddie said in total seriousness.

    Autumn threw a heavy scowl the pirate¡¯s way for her inconsiderate words. That she said them without a hint of facetiousness hurt more than if she was trying to mock.

    Deciding to ignore both her and the dull ache in her chest, Autumn questioned the others. ¡°What do you think the god of time would want? You know him better than me. Would he want gold? Gems? Magic items? Potions?¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

    ¡°He¡¯d better not want any potions,¡± Pyre said, eyeing the statue. ¡°We¡¯ve got none to spare. Besides, didn¡¯t you say ¡®without sin¡¯ or something? Wouldn¡¯t us giving him wealth be a symbol of greed?¡±

    ¡°Greed is the desire for wealth and the excess, not wealth itself,¡± Nelva lectured.

    ¡°Do you think a god would care?¡±

    ¡°Perhaps,¡± Nelva shrugged. ¡°Perhaps not. But maybe giving up wealth is what the sinful would never do?¡±

    Nethlia shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s worth a try.¡±

    Taking out a handful of golden coins, Autumn placed them on Suthir¡¯s open palm and held her breath. Nothing happened. ¡°Nope. Any other ideas?¡± she asked.

    Behind the group, Eme¡¯s ears perked up as an idea came to her. With no one noticing, she slunk silently back to camp to retrieve something.

    ¡°We could try a magic item?¡± Edwyn suggested. ¡°Suthir is the master o¡¯ magic, after all. Maybe we give him one o¡¯ those cursed items? He might like them.¡±

    ¡°Worth a try,¡± Autumn shrugged. However, that too turned out to be dud.

    ¡°Blocked by a stupid riddle,¡± Liddie huffed, kicking a loose stone across the ground. ¡°How ignoble. Maybe we should just get our good ol¡¯ runemaster to just blow holes in the wall until we find it?¡± she said, framing the back wall between her fingers.

    Edwyn snorted. ¡°And trigger only the gods know how many traps in doin¡¯ sae? Nae. Nae, thank ye.¡±

    ¡°Come on~ We¡¯ll never get in at this rate. Just blow it up¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, the sound of a deep thud resonated through the air, interrupting Liddie¡¯s tirade.

    Autumn spun around back to the statue and saw a sheepish but prideful Eme standing before the effigy of the god. Upon the statue¡¯s open palm, an empty plate rested that¡¯d once held a delicious slice of bird pie. Now, not even crumbs remained.

    The sapphire eyes glinted in the light.

    Behind the statue of Suthir, a large mural shifted and warped across the back wall. Slowly, an image of a door formed within the flaking paint, stretching floor to ceiling. Amazingly, Autumn saw nothing in her magical sight. When the shifting illustration finally came to a stop, the entrance to the tomb lay before them.

    Eme beamed. ¡°I told you my bird pie was famous!¡±

    Autumn chuckled. ¡°So you did. How did you know that would work?¡±

    ¡°I didn¡¯t. Not really,¡± Eme shrugged. ¡°Back home, we leave offerings to our ancestors all the time so that they might eat nice food in the afterlife. I just thought Suthir might be hungry.¡±

    Everyone stared at Eme until her cheeks turned bright pink.

    Beside Autumn, Liddie muttered under her breath. ¡°Looks like I was wrong ¡ª we have someone pure of heart with us after all.¡±

    Autumn could certainly agree. Externally, she rolled her eyes and nudged Liddie towards the now revealed door. ¡°Maybe. But we¡¯re not done yet ¡ª we need to get a better look at that door and see if we can open it.¡±

    ¡°Yay, more puzzles,¡± Liddie said dryly.

    Ever cautious, the party made their way behind the statue of Suthir towards the back wall where the towering, thin door awaited them. On its sandstone face, a tall and thin masked elf stood sentinel, illustrated by fine paints to glare down at whomever stood before it. Clad in a white linen skirt, the painted elf held a pair of copper khopeshes across its breast.

    Painted vipers snaked down from the door¡¯s frame to coil around a pair of raised tiles on the floor. They¡¯d not been there before.

    Glancing over the door, Autumn saw no way to open it, magical or otherwise. No handles, buttons, or bars. Her gaze flickered back down to the raised tiles.

    ¡°¡®By two weights, did they shut the way,¡¯¡± Autumn murmured. ¡°Perhaps there¡¯s a counter-weight system in the walls? Or something similar?¡±

    Nethlia stood taut in front of Autumn, looking over the door with a strange intensity. ¡°Maybe,¡± she said, before turning towards the party¡¯s rogue. ¡°Liddie, go check them out ¡ª see if they¡¯re trapped.¡±

    ¡°Sure thing!¡± Liddie saluted. Strutting forward, she waved everyone back. ¡°Make way, ladies. There¡¯s a professional at work!¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes, but still hurried back alongside the others.

    Crouching down, Liddie cast a scrutinizing eye over the raised tiles and viper motifs. ¡°Hmm, I don¡¯t see any obvious traps. No holes for gas or darts. Not spears either.¡± She cast her gaze up next, peering into the darkness. ¡°Nothing above, either. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s below, shall we?¡± Taking a thin hooked blade from her belt, she slid it beneath the plate and carefully explored the trap. She bit her tongue between her teeth and closed her eyes as she felt her way around the plate¡¯s mechanism with only the slightest bits of pressure. ¡°Yep, it¡¯s a pressure plate alright. Let¡¯s see if I can¡ª ah shit!¡±

    Liddie sprang back in a roll instinctively as the painted viper lunged at her. When she rolled to her feet, she stomped down on the chasing snake. In its death, it turned back into naught but flaking blue and gold paint on the floor.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright! Just tripped some kind of magical anti-tampering trigger. Surprised you two didn¡¯t catch that,¡± she said towards Autumn and Edwyn.

    Autumn had the grace to look mildly chagrined. ¡°It¡¯s not magic. Or at least not one I can detect. Divine maybe?¡±

    Edwyn grunted in affirmation as they tugged on their beard in frustration.

    ¡°What can you tell us about the plates?¡± Nethlia asked impatiently. ¡°And can you open the door or not?¡±

    ¡°Calm down, alright. I figured it out just fine,¡± Liddie said calmly as she brushed herself free of sand. ¡°The door will open once you place a certain amount of weight on each plate. It¡¯s dead simple. Almost insultingly so.¡±

    ¡°How much weight are we talking about?¡±

    Liddie hummed. ¡°Well, you¡¯d trigger one just fine, or the combined weight of Autumn and myself would as well. The problem is that it needs a constant weight. Once you step off ¡ª bam! ¡ª the door shuts again.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not ideal,¡± Nethlia said. ¡°What about those snake traps? Will they trigger again once the plates activate?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s hard to say. Maybe, maybe not. Magic isn¡¯t my thing, and if our mages can¡¯t see anything¡­¡± Liddie shrugged.

    Autumn looked around the hall in thought, her eyes ultimately drawn to the goblin bodies lying on bloodied sand in the empty pool. ¡°What about them?¡± she gestured to the greenskin bodies. ¡°Would they be heavy enough to hold down the plates?¡±

    ¡°Hmm? Yeah, but likely only for one plate, given how much a goblin weighs. We need something heavier to hold down the other. Something like¡­¡± Liddie¡¯s eyes rested on the lazing bear. Ursa Ossa kicked slightly in his undead sleep.

    Following her gaze, Autumn scowled. ¡°Liddie!¡± she hissed. ¡°I¡¯m not using him to spring traps!¡±

    ¡°Why not? It¡¯s not like it¡¯ll die again.¡±

    ¡°He, not an it. And because it¡¯s rude!¡±

    ¡°Autumn,¡± Nethlia said, giving the witch a look.

    Autumn slumped. Releasing a heavy sigh, she whined. ¡°Fine~ but if she,¡± Autumn jabbed at Liddie, ¡°breaks him I¡¯ll¡­I¡¯ll¡­I don¡¯t know what I¡¯ll do, but it won¡¯t be pleasant!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll take that into consideration,¡± Nethlia smiled patiently. ¡°Can you call him over, please?¡±

    Rolling her eyes, Autumn let out a shrill whistle that awoke the sleeping bear. Ursa Ossa rolled over to give her a confused huff. However, he loyally stomped over to her when she gestured for him to do so. He pressed his enormous head into Autumn¡¯s chest aggrievedly when he arrived before her. A resonant chuffing rattled the bones in her chest.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m sorry for waking you, but I¡¯ve got a very important task for you. You see that plate over there?¡± Ursa Ossa followed Autumn¡¯s finger and let out a low rumble of acknowledgement. ¡°I need you to lie on it and make sure the door stays open, okay? Can you do that?¡± Ursa Ossa let out another affirmative rumble before plodding over and flumping down on the plate.

    Autumn winced at the sound of sandstone cracking.

    The painted door remained tightly shut right until the others dumped the last goblin corpse atop the other plate in a messy pile. With a titanic grinding of stone, the door slowly opened, yawning inwards to reveal a long, dark hallway beyond.

    ¡°Alright gang!¡± Liddie clapped loudly, the sound echoing down the long hallway. Grinning wildly, she spoke. ¡°There¡¯s no time like the present, so let¡¯s get to it! Get it? Cause of the god of time?¡± When nobody responded, she pouted. ¡°Bah! Everyone¡¯s a critic!¡±

    Nethlia reached out and grabbed the pirate¡¯s shoulder before she could flounce off. ¡°Check for traps,¡± she ordered her.

    ¡°I was gonna!¡±

    With a huff, Liddie approached the doorway and examined it for traps. ¡°Hmm. Hmm? Hmm! Hmmmm~ Oh my~ That looks nasty. How¡¯d they¡­oh, I see. Hmm. Hmm?¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Nethlia asked, annoyed by Liddie¡¯s antics. ¡°Did you find something?¡±

    Liddie turned back to her, holding a reflective dagger up before her. ¡°Yup!¡± she popped the ¡®p¡¯ ¡°there¡¯s a glowy thingy above the doorway. Very sneaky of them. And there¡¯s a bunch of little pinpricks along the walls, likely for poison darts. I can deal with the darts, but I need one of our mages to take care of the glowy ¡ª magic¡¯s not a specialty of mine.¡±

    Both Autumn and Edwyn hurried over to Liddie and examined the sigil using their own bronze mirrors.

    ¡°Do you know what it is?¡± Autumn whispered to Edwyn.

    The Manus nodded. ¡°Aye. It looks like an agony trap tae me. If ye trip it, it¡¯ll wrack ye wit¡¯ blindin¡¯ pain an¡¯ force ye tae move as far away from it as ye can.¡±

    ¡°And right into the poison darts,¡± Autumn finished. ¡°Ingenious and deadly. Think you can deactivate it?¡±

    Edwyn snorted. ¡°What dae ye take me for?¡±

    After unbraiding a rune out of their beard, the runemaster flicked it contemptuously up at the agony trap. When the pair collided, there was a blinding flash of magic as the rune of dispelling activated. When the light died down, the trap was gone.

    Liddie huffed and tossed her head back contemptuously. ¡°You call that trap disarming? Stand back and watch a master at work.¡±

    Taking her small tools in hand, Liddie plugged up a few of the holes so she could reach the first trigger plate safely. ¡°Now, I just need to find the switch~ It should be around here somewhere. Aha! Got it. Now just need to wiggle this little bit like so andddd¡ª¡±

    Suddenly, there was a loud pinging sound and a thousand darts whizzed past Autumn¡¯s face. She stared down at a sheepish Liddie blankly. She was very unimpressed with the pirate right now.

    ¡°Ehehe~¡± Liddie awkwardly giggled. ¡°Guess I¡¯m a little rusty~¡±

    From the back, Nethlia growled. ¡°Stop fucking around up there!¡±

    Liddie gulped. ¡°Sure thing, boss!¡± Turning back to the trapped hallway, she sighed. ¡°Ninety-nine poison darts in the wall~ Ninety-nine poison darts~ Take one down, pass it around~ Ninety-eight poison darts in the wall~¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Eight: The Trial of Might

    Autumn squinted as she peered down into the deep hole blocking their path. Ordered rows of sharp spikes glinted back up at her, dark rust staining them. Beneath the instruments of death lay a carpet of ivory bones that completely concealed the floor of the pit. Being so high up, Autumn couldn¡¯t make out a lot of details, but she still spied a few humanoid, or perhaps elvenoid, skulls amidst the shattered remains.

    ¡°Yup, looks like a pit-trap to me.¡±

    ¡°Very helpful, Autumn,¡± Liddie drawled. ¡°Glad I asked you to share your valuable insight with me.¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes at Liddie¡¯s snark.

    Having disarmed the remaining traps without further embarrassing darting discharges, Liddie had led the party down the long hallway beyond the traps to a T-junction. Being the smart adventurers they were, they immediately halted and scoured it for more traps.

    And it was a good thing they did.

    Within moments, they¡¯d spotted this pit-trap hidden beneath a thin layer of stone and the various magical sigils that¡¯d send them hurtling into it if they¡¯d accidently tripped them.

    Autumn was starting to get an idea of just how vindictive these tomb builders were.

    Deactivating the traps was relatively easy with both Liddie and Edwyn lending their expertise. Finding out where to go next was the hard part. For you see, neither of the hallways leading off the T-junction were real. Not in that they were illusion per se, but in that they simply led nowhere and were likely riddled with traps.

    At least, Autumn assumed so, as they hadn¡¯t bothered traveling down either.

    So, how did they know they were fake if they hadn¡¯t traveled down them then?

    Easy. In building this tomb, the architects seemingly couldn¡¯t resist leaving behind taunting clues and remarks in the hieroglyphics. Likely they assumed whomever delved it in the future wouldn¡¯t have been able to read them, or their encrypted notes. In any other case, that might¡¯ve been true.

    Jokes on them.

    That still left the party of adventurers with only one way to go. Down.

    Autumn took the hint from Liddie¡¯s remarks and leaned further over the ledge to see if anything showed up in her Witchsight. Surprisingly, she saw something this time. A faint aura of concealing magic lingered on the far wall near the bottom of the pit.

    Leaning back, she spoke up about what she saw. ¡°There¡¯s some magic infused into the wall down there. I think it¡¯s an illusory wall, but I could be wrong.¡±

    Nethlia joined Autumn in looking down into the spiked pit. ¡°Hmm, you think that¡¯s the way forward or just a hidden room?¡±

    ¡°Dunno,¡± Autumn shrugged, chewing her lip slightly. ¡°But I haven¡¯t seen any other way we can go.¡±

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll check it out.¡± Shrugging off her pack, Nethlia pulled out a climbing piton and some rope. With heavy, echoing swings of her pole-hammer, she drove the piton deep into the sandstone floor. Once it was firmly in place, Nethlia lashed one end of the rope to it, the other she tied snugly around Liddie¡¯s hips.

    ¡°Why do I always gotta be the one to go first into the death pit?¡± Liddie grumbled under her breath.

    Not quietly enough, as Nethlia spoke back to her sharply. ¡°Because you¡¯re the rogue. Now quit whining and get in the pit.¡±

    Liddie yelped and rushed over to the ledge of the pit-trap. Carefully, she walked backwards into the hole as Nethlia held onto the rope tightly and gently guided her down.

    While descending, Liddie looked over the pit for any traps they might¡¯ve missed from up top. Thankfully, there were none.

    Within a few short moments, she was at the bottom.

    Dry bones crunched loudly beneath her leather boots when she finally touched down. After steadying herself, Liddie picked up a loose bone from the floor and started tapping along the walls, searching for the potential illusory wall where Autumn had pointed out the magical aura was.

    The sound of bone rapping on stone echoed up the pit in a steady rhythm until, suddenly, it didn¡¯t

    Liddie immediately ducked to the side.

    Nothing happened.

    Everyone breathed a sigh of relief they didn¡¯t know they¡¯d been holding. Liddie sent a reassuring grin back up to the other before turning back to the illusory wall. After testing its size a few times more, she tossed the bone through the wall and listened to the sound of it rattling down a stone corridor beyond.

    Still, nothing happened.

    After taking a deep, fortifying breath, Liddie bravely stepped through the false wall, fully prepared to duck and roll at the slightest sound.

    Autumn held her breath as she waited for the sound of traps springing or her teammate¡¯s untimely demise. Her hands clenched tightly into fists as the seconds ticked by without Liddie¡¯s return. All she could hear was the drumbeats of her own heart.

    Just as she was about to say something to Nethlia, Liddie reappeared by sticking her head through the illusory wall to shout up at them. ¡°Hey! Come down ¡ª there¡¯s another junction down here and it looks like this is our way forward!¡±

    Breathing another sigh of relief, Autumn joined the others as they descended one by one into the pit.

    When she was at the bottom, Autumn glanced over the piles of bones as a thought came to her. ¡°Huh, I probably could¡¯ve made a skeleton to check if the wall was trapped for us.¡±

    ¡°You tell me this now!¡± Liddie threw her hands up aggrievedly. ¡°After I risked my ass and everything!¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Well, I didn¡¯t think of it before. Were there any traps anyway?¡±

    ¡°A few. Silent triggers too,¡± Liddie pointed to a couple of scorch marks across the floor on the other side of the false wall as Autumn stepped through the illusion. ¡°These tomb builders weren¡¯t playing around. Don¡¯t worry, I disabled them before I called you down. They were just spells tied to mechanical triggers ¡ª more pressure plates.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn shivered. She¡¯d heard nothing. If Liddie had been killed, they¡¯d have walked right into that trap none the wiser looking for her.

    After a short walk, they found themselves at another T-junction like the one above. Thankfully, there weren¡¯t any traps in this one. Not that they didn¡¯t look for them thoroughly.

    Glancing down the dark passageways to either side, Nethlia pointed to a series of murals along the opposite wall from the group. ¡°Autumn, can you tell anything from these about which way we need to go?¡±

    ¡°Hold on, let me see.¡±

    Holding her lantern ring up high, Autumn scanned the paintings. Two large murals dominated the breadth of the hallway wall in front of her, split evenly down the middle of the intersection. Rather than being simple directions, they read more like tales or snippets of the immortal pharaoh¡¯s life.

    The mural leading to the left spoke of the ruler as a warrior-king. It told a tale of how he waged bloody conquests across every grain of sand, every dune, and every mountain. None were spared the pharaoh¡¯s wrath or nation¡¯s chains. Not even the mighty mountain clans survived unscathed face with the pharaoh¡¯s legions of slave-soldiers. To take this path would mean facing the trial/judgment of might.

    The mural leading to the right spoke of the rule as a scholar-king. It told of a tale of the pharaoh¡¯s avaricious lust for the mysteries of magic. Seemingly not content to just be named after the god of time, he sought to usurp the title of master of magic from him too. For untold centuries, the pharaoh locked himself away in his grand tower in order to pour over his vast wealth of esoteric tomes and dark spell-scrolls in an attempt to master them all. To take this path would mean facing the trial/judgment of magic.

    She relayed as much to the others.

    Nethlia hummed. ¡°Any clue to what these trials are?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Autumn shook her head. ¡°It doesn¡¯t say. I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s something to test us or just keep robbers at bay, maybe? It¡¯s also likely where the keys are at, so we need to do both. It just comes down to which we want to do first. It¡¯s your call. Might or Magic?¡±

    ¡°Might,¡± Nethlia said without hesitation. ¡°Let¡¯s do that one first and see what we¡¯re getting into. Liddie, Autumn, I want you two scouting ahead for traps. Everyone else, follow behind me.¡±

    With that, the party moved cautiously down the left hallway, constantly keeping a keen eye out for traps.

    Surprisingly, there were none. However, rather than put her at ease, the lack of traps just made Autumn even more nervous than before. Thus it came as a great relief to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

    And not just metaphorically either, as sunlight lit up the tunnel from the chamber beyond it.

    Autumn threw a confused look Liddie¡¯s way, one which the pirate matched. Speeding up slightly, the party quickly and cautiously made their way down the hallway and out into the light.

    The sudden change blinded Autumn for a moment. As her eyes adjusted to the glare, a sprawling chamber unveiled itself to her.

    Grim elven statues loomed out from the hewn sandstone walls of a vast underground cavern. Their stony, crumbling visages glared down on a broken arena whose floor had disappeared into a dark chittering abyss ages ago, leaving only a patchwork maze of walkways and pillars behind.

    A deep ravine forged by an earthquake near a millennium ago cut through both the northern and southern walls of the chamber, bisecting it in twain. Golden sand poured in like great waterfalls from the rent in the ceiling alongside equally golden shafts of sunlight to roar down into the lightless depths.

    Alien trees reached up from the darkness with twisting branches like clawing hands. They twined around the giant pillars and bridges in a desperate, hungry search for light and warmth. Inadvertently, their doomed quest saw them fill in the gaps the maze of broken stone bridges left. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Around the weathered walls, faded murals depicted the immortal ruler¡¯s military triumphs. However, time and the elements had seen these scoured from history. Not even Autumn could piece together anything useful from them anymore.

    Looking around the edges of the immense chamber, Autumn spotted three other doors leading out of the chamber aside from the one they entered through. Unfortunately, one exit had collapsed while another lay on the far side of the ravine. The only one within easy reach would still take some work to get to, as the twisting maze of stone bridges and wooden limbs separated them from it.

    Autumn stepped up the edge of the stairs they currently stood on and kicked a loose stone off. Quietly, she listened for the sound of its impact.

    She heard nothing.

    Below, the abyss glared up at the disturbance. Autumn glared back.

    ¡°Woah,¡± Eme whispered as she stopped near Autumn. ¡°This is¡­we need to cross all that?¡±

    Tearing her gaze away from the chittering darkness, Autumn glanced back curiously at the pale catgirl. ¡°Sure,¡± she shrugged. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look too bad to me. The key I¡¯ve found is to not look down ¡ª keep your eyes on where you¡¯re stepping, but don¡¯t fixate on it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve done something like this before?¡± Eme asked incredulously.

    ¡°Once or twice. Remember ¡ª just don¡¯t look down.¡±

    Eme shook her head. ¡°You¡¯re pretty incredible sometimes, you know?¡±

    ¡°Only sometimes?¡± Autumn grinned slightly with a blush.

    Before Eme could respond, Nethlia ushered the group onward. Following her, they quickly descended the crumbling stairs towards a broken bridge that stretched partially over the yawning abyss. At the bridge¡¯s other end, a thick tree limb wound around it as it stretched towards the ceiling, offering a way forward.

    Autumn stopped before she placed her foot on the rough bark of the tree. For a moment, she saw shining crystal below her instead.

    A supporting hand on her back helped her shake off those twisting thoughts, and she moved with the others swiftly onto the wooden ramp as they headed towards the intact door nearest them.

    While Autumn would¡¯ve loved an unobstructed journey to their destination, it was not to be.

    About halfway to the other door, the tree limb they were walking on dipped down at such an extreme angle that it forced them to find another way to pass. Luckily, another wide, serpentine branch snaked below the one they were on, heading towards a series of mostly intact bridges connected to where the intact door was on the northern wall.

    However, as they intended to return via the same path, they needed to secure a way back up first.

    As such, Nethlia retrieved another piton from her pack. The sound of metal on metal resounded throughout the cavernous chamber as she hammered it deep into the wood with mighty swings.

    For a moment, the heavy pounding was all Autumn heard, until guttural, warbling shrieks like dying beasts replied from the lightless depths below.

    Nethlia halted mid-swing.

    The group shared nervous, resigned glances as they silently drew their weapons.

    Heart thundering in her chest, Autumn carefully approached the edge of the branch they stood upon and peered down into the abyss in search of what¡¯d shrieked.

    Thousands of horrific monsters birthed from the darkest of nightmares skittered out of the depths up the twisting trees. As they entered the light, they revealed their awful visages to Autumn. Pale papery flesh stretched taut over skeletal humanoid legless bodies wreathed in tattered gray cloaks. Hundreds of empty sunken eye-sockets of mismatched sizes ringed maws of jagged shark-like teeth, only one socket beheld a rummy eye each.

    Upon seeing Autumn, the nightmarish creatures let out shrill, baleful screeches. A pair of too long, spindly arms dragged their pale bodies up the alien trees towards her unnervingly fast. Hunger, great and terrible, loomed over the horde like a roiling cloud.

    ¡°Holy fuck!¡± Autumn swore as she scrambled back from the edge.

    Liddie peeked over the edge to see what¡¯d spooked her so. The pirate¡¯s face screwed up in disgust as she saw the horrors quickly clawing themselves up towards the party. ¡°What the shit are they?!¡±

    ¡°Nothing good,¡± Nelva replied from beside her, mirror-shield held at the ready. ¡°Prepare yourselves. Here they come!¡±

    Autumn channeled her magic through her body to coalesce her Witch Armor around her. A shadowy breastplate clung tightly to her chest and back while a fraying scarf wound itself protectively around her throat and lower face.

    Leveling her wand towards the edges of their platform, Autumn waited for the monsters to come. She and the others backed up around Nethlia to defend her as she continued to hammer the piton into the stubborn wood. Without saying anything, they¡¯d unanimously decided to relocate to more stable footing ¡ª the chances of them slipping off during combat was too great.

    As soon as the first horrific creatures crested onto their platform, a barrage of necrotic magic, runic fire, and crossbow bolts slammed into them. Foul bodies crumpled dead under the overwhelming violence. They spilled down like rain back into the dark that¡¯d spawned them.

    Yet, no matter how many they¡¯d killed, more replaced them in endless, screeching waves.

    Autumn was getting sick of swarms and hordes.

    Blades, daggers, and spells flashed as the horde of horrors washed over the party. Acidic blood freely spilled, pitting and burning where it splashed.

    Bodies fell by the dozens, piling high around the adventurers.

    With one last powerful blow, Nethlia drove the piton deep into the wood. She tied off the rope hastily but firmly to the anchor before tossing the other end off the path to the one down below. Turning back to the group with her weapon in hand, she bellowed. ¡°It¡¯s done! Go! I¡¯ll hold them off!¡±

    Autumn grunted in acknowledgement as she kicked a horror off of herself. Her dark blade ripped free of its emaciated body with a squelch, splattering her shadowy breastplate with acidic blood. Thankfully, the hardened magic saved her robes beneath.

    Dodging backwards, Autumn hurriedly re-sheathed her black blade and white wand so that she could scramble down the hempen rope.

    As soon as her boots touched rough bark again, the dark-eyed witch spun around and unleashed a tide of magic upon the swarm. Her ire saw many cascade like rain back down into the unholy dark that¡¯d birthed them.

    The rest of the party quickly followed Autumn and plunged over the lip one by one to rappel down the rope.

    Nethlia was the last to leave. Her wrath held back the horde alone.

    When everyone else had safely landed atop the lower path, she let out a mighty roar and swept her pole-hammer through the waves of horrors. The monsters broke before her overwhelming strength. She didn¡¯t bother with the rope, opting instead to leap off the branch and crash down on the lower one with barely a grunt.

    Autumn staggered slightly as the impact rocked the wide branch.

    Above them, the sightless horde let out a howl of displease at the flight of the adventurers. In a blind rush, they spilled over the lip, snapping and biting at the party with their toothy maws. Those that¡¯d been on the edges of the pack fell screaming into the void below. Their hate and madness echoed around the chamber.

    ¡°Go!¡± Nethlia bellowed.

    Not needing to be told twice, the party rushed away from the nightmarish creatures. Their booted feet pounded a wild rhythm into the bark as they weaved their way through the mess of interconnected paths and broken pillars towards the stone bridges in the near distance.

    Autumn breathed steadily as she sprinted alongside the others. She mentally thanked Nethlia for making her do those early morning suicide drills.

    The monsters dogged their heels like an onrushing wave.

    Just as they were approaching the ancient stone bridges, a horror lashed out with their long frog-like tongue and caught Eme around her ankle. The catgirl bard let out a startled yelp as the tongue yanked her off her feet. She crashed down heavily onto the bark and was dragged back towards the horror¡¯s gaping maw of jagged teeth.

    ¡°Eme!¡± Autumn cried out as she ground to a halt.

    However, before she could unleash her fury on the beast, Eme freed herself. Rolling over, the catgirl drew her sword in one smooth motion and severed the tongue coiled around her ankle.

    The horror recoiled, screeching in pain.

    Seeing Eme free, Autumn unleashed a furious barrage of forceful magic upon the horde, giving Nethlia just enough time to haul the limping bard to her feet and drag her onto the stone bridge. Autumn backed up slowly to join them, still unleashing a tide of violence towards the horrors.

    The mindless horrors threw themselves recklessly against the adventurers¡¯ defenses clustered around the narrow chokepoint. Like a meat grinder, the party tore into the flood of grotesque. Black blood stained the stones and boughs, letting off wisps of smoke as they pitted and burned.

    Iron and magic crushed howling skulls.

    Autumn stomped heavily on a skittering limb of a monster crawling towards her, snapping it like a dry twig. Her breath came hot and fast as she fought. With a wave of her wand, she sent more monsters tumbling back into the abyss with heavy blasts. The others fought around her with equal fervor.

    When Liddie dispatched the last screaming horror with a purposeful swing of her white-gold blade, Autumn let out a shuddering sigh of relief. She slumped down onto her knees as she tried to regain her breath.

    With a tug of her will, the Witch Armor adorning Autumn dissipated like smoke on a breeze. Her robes beneath were mostly undamaged, the acidic blood having splattered across her unprotected hands and sleeves, pitting both. Autumn let out a hiss as her hands stung.

    Fortunately, she still had some of Pyre¡¯s healing cream on hand, and with said alchemist¡¯s help, they quickly treated her acid burned hands.

    Across from Autumn¡¯s seated form, Liddie pushed one of the bodies off the bridge with her foot as she panted. ¡°Again, I reiterate, but what the shit were they?!¡±

    Nelva looked up from examining her acid damaged gear and frowned at the pirate¡¯s language. ¡°Does it matter?¡± she asked.

    ¡°I suppose not,¡± Liddie shrugged. ¡°You think there¡¯ll be more?¡±

    Eme shuddered. ¡°I hope not. We¡¯re not exactly equipped to deal with monsters with acidic blood,¡± she said, gesturing to her burned hands that Pyre was just now tending to. The group¡¯s main healer grumbled at the catgirl for moving.

    Autumn idly picked at her ruined sleeves. Taking out her wand, she attempted to mend them with magic. While she was mostly successful, they ended up looking a touch more frayed than they¡¯d had before, as there simply wasn¡¯t much left to fix. The rest of her gear bore a few pitted burns, but were easier to fix, as they were made of either leather or bone.

    In but a moment of violet magic, she was looking much better and far less sweaty.

    Of course, that also drew the others¡¯ attention, and she felt obligated to fix up their gear as well.

    When she was done, Autumn looked towards Nethlia. ¡°What now?¡± she asked.

    The demoness rolled her jaw as she looked out over the brightly lit ruins and tumbling falls of golden sand. ¡°Well, that depends on whether we can find a way across the ravine or not. For now, we might as well see what¡¯s behind that door,¡± she nodded towards the one near them. ¡°This place is far larger and more dangerous than I initially thought, but,¡± she rolled the word out reluctantly, ¡°we are still good to carry on. Unless anyone wants to turn back?¡±

    Nobody spoke up.

    Autumn herself felt apprehensive about continuing with what they¡¯d just endured, but the allure of a weapon forged to combat the hag was too great to ignore. So she too kept quiet.

    Nethlia let out a sigh. ¡°Fine. Take a moment to rest, then we¡¯ll head out shortly.¡±

    As the others found somewhere to sit and check their gear, Nethlia came to sit beside Autumn. Eme sent them a pout as Pyre wrapped her twisted ankle with gauze.

    ¡°You doing okay?¡± Nethlia asked. ¡°Did you get injured?¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°No, not anything major ¡ª just some burns on my hands, but Pyre already took care of that. You?¡±

    ¡°Same,¡± Nethlia said, showing off her own treated wounds. ¡°Have you seen anything like that before? Any idea what they were?¡±

    ¡°No. To both questions. They might¡¯ve been the former builders of the tomb? Slaves buried away with their master? Or they might just be random horrors from the underground drawn to loud sounds.¡± Autumn shrugged. ¡°Who knows? I¡¯ve never come across anything like those before. Not in the Feywild, nor in the Underdark. Underoots. Whatever. They were still living, at least, not undead. I saw their hunger and madness,¡± she said with a shiver.

    ¡°Hunger?¡±

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Yeah, they were starving. It was like an oppressive cloud suffocating them. I couldn¡¯t tell if it was a physical hunger or a desire for something stranger, like our souls or something.¡±

    ¡°That''s¡­not reassuring,¡± Nethlia said carefully, throwing a grim look at the piles once more. ¡°Any chance we killed them all?¡±

    Autumn snorted. ¡°With our luck?¡±

    Nethlia sighed. ¡°Yeah, I thought so. Well, get up ¡ª I think we¡¯ve rested long enough.¡± Saying so, she stood up and helped Autumn to her feet.

    Refreshed thanks to their short rest, the party of battle-tested adventurers slowly picked their way across the remaining pathways towards the northern end of the sprawling chamber where their destination lay. They had to jump across a few gaps too wide to simply step across. Each leap sent a bolt of fright skittering up Autumn¡¯s spine.

    As they crossed the last bridge onto the platform where the door sat, they finally got a good look at the door itself. A large crack split the stone portal in two, allowing for one to glimpse inside. When Autumn shone her lantern ring¡¯s light inside, gold glinted back at her from within.

    Beyond the cracked door was a room absolutely packed full of treasure.

    Liddie squealed in delight.

 Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Nine: Flattery Will Get You Nowhere

    Autumn stood outside the glittering treasure room, peering through the sundered crack in the thick stone door. Even with the limited view, she saw a great deal of wealth within. She assumed this was where the reward for whatever the ¡°trial of might¡± was had been and likely where the first key was hidden.

    Unfortunately, whatever mechanism that opened this door was missing. Likely, the earthquake had broken it along with the door. Even if it was here and intact, it wouldn¡¯t have been of much use as the broken door was stuck fast and they¡¯d have had to break it down just like they were doing now.

    The perpetually grumpy Edwyn wedged a rock-breaking rune into the crack. ¡°Cover yer ears!¡± they bellowed as they took cover.

    Autumn turned away just in time.

    Shattered stones exploded outwards in a great plume of dust as the rune detonated in the door. Several pinging off the weathered floor and tumbling into the abyss below. Sections of the door collapsed into itself with a grinding crash that echoed out into the chamber.

    For a moment, they held their breath, awaiting another screaming horde. Thankfully, nothing replied to their rune-enhanced knocking.

    As the dust settled, Nethlia stepped up to the broken stones and lifted the heaviest of them out of the way. Turning back to the others, she spoke loudly over the soft ringing in their ears. ¡°Come help me with this!¡±

    Autumn and the others snapped out of their daze and quickly rushed to help her.

    Before too long, they¡¯d widened the small crack in the door into one that was large enough for all of them to at least squeeze through. Even Nethlia.

    Within, the treasure shone with an even greater luster, as if luring the adventurers outside with its glittering siren song.

    Liddie was the first one through. After checking directly inside the door for traps and not finding any, she scurried through the gap like a joyous rat who¡¯d found a pantry stocked full of delicious cheese. Frantically, she scoured every inch of the decorated floor, walls, and ceiling as the others nervously watched on.

    From her vantage, Autumn didn¡¯t see any telltale glow of magical runes, camouflaged by illusions or otherwise. That didn¡¯t mean there weren¡¯t any, as evidenced by that strange viper illusion back in the entry hall, just none immediately obvious to her.

    After a seemingly painstakingly long time, that wasn¡¯t actually that long at all, Liddie called back to the others. ¡°It¡¯s clear!¡± she cried. ¡°There aren¡¯t any traps!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Nelva asked. ¡°You¡¯ve missed some before.¡±

    An offended look flashed across Liddie¡¯s features. ¡°I¡¯m absolutely sure! And you take that back! That trap was a divine whatsitmajigit. How was I meant to find that?!¡±

    ¡°A better rogue would¡¯ve.¡±

    Autumn ignored the playful banter as she squeezed herself through the gap and into the treasure chamber. Dusting herself off, she took in the horde before her ¡ª of wealth this time.

    Organized piles of treasure cluttered every inch of the rather small room, leaving only a small section in the middle free. Dozens of ornate chests full to the brim with ancient gold coins, polished gems, and sparkling jewels sat against the walls between pieces of gold and blue glass armor, golden weapons, polished mirrors, and a towering bookcase packed full of gilded spell-scrolls.

    Swallowing her saliva, Autumn took a step towards the scrolls.

    Autumn could hardly believe their luck!

    She paused. In fact, she didn¡¯t believe their luck.

    Beside her, Eme bounced in place and exclaimed. ¡°Look! There has to be at least ten thousand gold in here! More! I haven¡¯t seen this much gold in my life! Like, ever!¡±

    Autumn didn¡¯t want to be the one to pour cold water over Eme¡¯s enthusiasm, but something about this setup was bothering her, even if she couldn¡¯t put her finger on what that was. It hovered frustratingly out of reach. Like a lost word on the tip of her tongue. A shadow flickering at the edge of her vision.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this. I think we should wait until Liddie checks the chests for traps. Even if the room wasn¡¯t trapped, they could be.¡± Autumn paused, trying to find the words she had lost. ¡°There¡¯s something about this that¡¯s just¡­strange.¡±

    ¡°Like what?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Autumn admitted as the tension inside her grew. It was as if she was walking down a dark tunnel and didn¡¯t know if the light at the end was the exit or an oncoming train.

    She just hoped she¡¯d hear the horn before it hit her.

    ¡°Just stay ready. For anything.¡±

    Another nervous glance around the room revealed nothing to her emotional and magical detection. Still, it wasn¡¯t infallible. Things of undead and, more recently, divine origin had evaded her sight, although she was working on seeing undeath thanks to her research into the Necromancy spell-book.

    Experience had Autumn looking up, but unlike before, only a cracked ceiling greeted her searching eyes. The floor likewise revealed nothing. Not even a speck of dust was out of place in the well-ordered vault.

    Autumn chewed her lip as she paced.

    Her chest felt tight. Eyes darted back and forth as her lizard brain screamed.

    The others had picked up on her anxiety. They scanned the room with hands tight around their drawn weapons.

    A normal person might charitably call such behavior paranoid or uncharitably a symptom of untreated post-traumatic stress. But Autumn wasn¡¯t a normal person. She was an Adventurer, with a capital A. In their line of work, ignoring their instincts would be the height of foolishness.

    If she thought something was wrong, then something was wrong until proven otherwise.

    Autumn turned to look back at the others. Currently, Liddie was crouched before one of the ornate chests with one hand atop it while her other held a thin blade she was preparing to wedge carefully under its lid to check it for traps.

    Sweat beaded down the pirate¡¯s spine as she gently stuck her blade into the chest.

    Like a bolt out of the blue, the answer came to Autumn. Her eyes snapped to the ordered piles and treasures. The unnaturally ordered piles.

    Hadn¡¯t this place been subject to an earthquake so strong it rent the chamber beyond in half? Hadn¡¯t the same natural force cracked this vault¡¯s thick stone door and ceiling? If so, then why was everything still in place and not strewn all over the floor?

    ¡°Wait!¡± Autumn called out suddenly.

    Liddie turned away from the chest she was testing just as an eye cracked open on its top, the wood grains splitting around the orb. The lid opened up to reveal a fleshly interior lined by massive teeth. A long red purple tongue lashed out from the chest, wrapping around the pirate¡¯s wrist.

    ¡°What the? Oh, shit¡ª¡± was all Liddie could say before the mimic¡¯s jaws snapped shut around her.

    Around the room, all the other piles of treasure blinked their eyes open. Great jaws of massive teeth slobbered foul, sticky saliva onto the floor as their tongue unfurled.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    Now they bloomed into Autumn¡¯s senses with hunger.

    ¡°Mimics!¡± Nethlia snarled. Hefting her pole-hammer high, she hauled Edwyn away from another snapping chest. The mimic¡¯s teeth barely missed the Manus¡¯ boot. ¡°Don¡¯t let them touch you! Their saliva is like glue!¡±

    ¡°Someone get Liddie out of that thing!¡± Autumn yelled. Swearing, she backpedaled as the bookcase mimic slammed down before her, attempting to crush her beneath its ponderous weight. An engorged purple tongue lashed out towards her and ripped her knife from her hand when she reflexively stabbed it.

    The mimic let out a keening squeal at the pain.

    ¡°We¡¯re trying!¡± Nelva replied tersely from behind Autumn.

    Glancing over her shoulder, Autumn watched as the Lepus knight hacked away at the chest nomming on Liddie, the pirate¡¯s legs kicking desperately in the air. The crimson blood leaking from the mimic¡¯s mouth undercut the comical sight.

    Nelva let out an uncharacteristic snarl as her iron blade got stuck in the flailing chest. Taking her mirror shield in two hands, she brought its edge down on the mimic with a roar. Purple blood splattered across the floor. The mimic squealed as she ripped the mirror free ¡ª the glue-like sweat failing to cling onto the Reflection of Kazam.

    Autumn turned back to her own fight before the bookcase mimic could take advantage of her distraction.

    Adopting her defensive stance, sans knife, the dark-haired witch unleashed a barrage of necrotic magic at the large monstrosity. Her Necrotic Lances splashed across the mimics wood and paper textured flesh, rotting it away in an instant.

    The huge mimic let out another high-pitched squeal. It smashed its hefty bulk wildly around itself in another attempt to crush the witch, ultimately killing a few of the smaller mimics in its blind frenzy.

    It took quite a few more necrotic blasts to end the mimic. With a wet thud, it crashed down before Autumn. Dead.

    Before she could breathe a sigh of relief, a whipping purple tongue slammed into Autumn''s chest and sent her sprawling along the blood-slick floor. The glue-like saliva immediately stuck to her black robes, and the mimic gleefully reeled her back towards its gnashing maw.

    Scrambling for her wand, Autumn unleashed a magical barrage towards the chest mimic who¡¯d grabbed her. Unfortunately, due to its smaller size and the jostling she was experiencing, her spells zipped over the mimic harmlessly.

    Autumn¡¯s boots stuck to the mimic¡¯s toothy maw as she tried desperately to keep it from swallowing her. Her legs quivered as it pulled her towards it with a surprising amount of strength.

    Suddenly, a white hilted blade flashed past her.

    The mimic let out a squeal as its tongue was severed clean in two, splattering its purple blood across the floor. Another pair of flashing slices saw Autumn¡¯s boots free of the chest, causing her to fall onto her back with a grunt. When she looked up, Eme stood protectively over the top of her. The catgirl hissed at the mimic with ears pinned back.

    Eme lunged forward and drove her enchanted blade deep into the mimic, killing it. She easily withdrew the Snow Demon¡¯s Fang as the enchanted blade resisted the glue like Nelva¡¯s shield had done before.

    ¡°You''re okay?¡± Eme asked, holding a hand out to Autumn.

    Autumn took it, allowing herself to be hauled to her feet. She quickly brushed herself off. ¡°A bit bruised, but I¡¯ll be alright.¡±

    The bard let out a hum. Alacrity filled Autumn¡¯s limbs as a bardic spell took hold, making her move and fight that bit faster. ¡°Take care, alright?¡±

    Slapping herself on the chest, Autumn channeled her magic into her Witch Armor once more. A shadow breastplate and scarf adorned her again. ¡°I will,¡± she said before turning back to the fight.

    Across the way, Nethlia had abandoned her iron pole-hammer as multiple mimics had stuck to the head, weighing it down. Instead, she¡¯d stuck her hand deep into the throat of a panicking smaller chest mimic and was bashing the other ones to death with it.

    Autumn blinked in disbelief. Nethlia seemed to have things¡­in hand.

    Shaking her head at her own terrible pun, Autumn rushed over to the others. She cast multiple Necrotic Lances on her way over, killing scores of the smaller jewel pile mimics.

    Pyre tossed a glass orb behind Autumn filled with a familiar potion of Alchemist Fire. Heat bloomed across Autumn¡¯s back as the flames engulfed the mimics behind her. Autumn hurriedly covered her nose as the scent of burning meat filled the air. It was startlingly familiar by now. A few air-burst runes courtesy of Edwyn saw the conflagration blossom into a raging bonfire.

    ¡°How many are there?!¡± Pyre yelled as Autumn stopped beside her.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m guessing all of the treasure.¡± Lashing out, she felled a mimic jumping towards her. The body slid to a stop beside her. ¡°There shouldn¡¯t be many left.¡±

    True to her words, it took only a little longer to cut, blast, crush, and burn the last of the mimics.

    Nelva hurriedly pulled a pale Liddie free of the shredded remains of the mimic that¡¯d almost swallowed her and gathered the pirate into her lap. She wasn¡¯t looking good. The sharp teeth had shredded her stomach, almost tearing her in two. Blood streamed over Nelva¡¯s legs and pooled on the ground in a great crimson lake.

    ¡°Hey! Hey! Keep your eyes open!¡± Nelva shouted at the drowsy pirate as she lightly slapped her cheeks to keep her awake.

    Autumn and Pyre rushed over to the pair.

    Without hesitance, Autumn placed her hands over the gruesome wound on the lithe demoness¡¯ stomach and channeled her magic to delay the pirate¡¯s death. When she¡¯d successfully stabilized Liddie, Autumn set to work fixing the worst of her injuries while Pyre fed the pale demoness a minor healing potion.

    Liddie¡¯s spine was a mess. The mimic¡¯s teeth had fractured multiple of her lumbar vertebrae and without Autumn¡¯s magical intervention, her injuries would likely paralyze the pirate for life, even with a minor healing potion.

    When Liddie¡¯s stomach finally closed, and her bleeding ceased, Autumn let out a shuddering breath and rocked back on her heels.

    ¡°Fucking Mimics,¡± Liddie slurred out. Exhausted, the pirate¡¯s eyes fluttered closed.

    ¡°How is she?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Autumn looked over the pale demoness still lying on Nelva¡¯s lap. Without her near permanent smirk, she looked so small. ¡°She¡¯ll live. But we¡¯d better give her some rest and she¡¯ll be light-headed when she recovers.¡±

    ¡°I think I¡¯ve got something for that,¡± Pyre piped up, tearing her worried eyes away from Liddie to rummage around anxiously in her potion bag. ¡°I still have a few blood replacement potions with me. Glad I packed them.¡±

    Despite being the youngest and at odds with the pirate lately, Pyre hovered over the resting Liddie like a mother hen.

    Nethlia reached down and tugged on Autumn¡¯s sleeve. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s let her recover. She doesn¡¯t need all of us hovering over her. Want to see if there is any actual treasure in this place with me?¡±

    Autumn nodded tiredly and let Nethlia haul her to her feet. Her boots squelched noisily with the mimic flesh still clinging to the soles.

    As she was walking towards the mounds of dead mimics, Eme latched onto her in a tight hug. ¡°You¡¯re okay, right? I saw you get grabbed and¡ªand¡ª¡±

    ¡°Hey, it¡¯s alright,¡± Autumn reassured the catgirl. Letting her armor dissipate once more, she gestured to herself. ¡°I¡¯m fine, only a few bruises on me. So, uh, not too tight, please.¡±

    Eme let go of Autumn to scan her over with a discerning eye. ¡°If you say so,¡± she said, dubiously.

    Nethlia let out an amused snort, although there was a similar look in her eyes.

    ¡°Weren¡¯t we looking for loot?¡± Autumn said, rolling her eyes. Inside, she felt all warm and fuzzy.

    Most of the mimic bodies were burnt and blackened by now. However, a few pieces of interesting loot had survived the brief, magically induced fire. Of note, they collected roughly around 215g in ancient gold coins ¡ª give or take, depending on the historical value ¡ª two moderate healing potions that immediately went to Pyre, and a piece of tattered flayed skin that bore a strange inked spell upon it.

    ¡°Gross,¡± Autumn said, holding the skin at arm¡¯s length away from herself.

    ¡°You know what it is?¡± Nethlia asked curiously as she peered at the spell.

    Autumn rolled her eyes. ¡°What do I look like to you? A wizard?¡±

    ¡°I thought you could read anything?¡± Eme asked from her other side.

    ¡°I can! But there¡¯s a difference between being able to read something and understanding it. I could probably cast it, but who knows what it¡¯ll do.¡± Autumn shrugged and tucked the flayed skin carefully away into her belt. ¡°Maybe if I had some time, I could work something about it out, but that¡¯s really not the way my spells work.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough. Uh, did anyone see the key?¡±

    The three of them shared a look.

    Sighing, they scoured the room once more, this time looking for clues about its whereabouts. While they didn¡¯t find the key, they instead found a pile of bat guano where it was likely meant to rest atop a decorated plinth. The faded hieroglyphics backed said educated guess.

    ¡°So, a bat took it?¡± Eme scratched her head in confusion.

    ¡°Or a bat-like creature. Either way, it¡¯s not here.¡± Autumn shook her head in frustration. ¡°And I¡¯ve an idea where it might be.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not saying¡­¡±

    Autumn nodded. Yup. Down the chasm. Where else would a bat like to live?¡±

    The three of them turned to look beyond the shattered door towards where the great ravine loomed.

    Nethlia let out an explosive sigh. Under her breath, she muttered, ¡°this dungeon is proving to be far more trouble than it¡¯s worth.¡± Louder, she said, ¡°ok, rest up everyone. We¡¯ll move out shortly once Liddie has recovered. Take a moment to clean yourselves up and grab a bite to eat.¡±

    Autumn staggered her way over the bookcase mimic and retrieved her lost knife with a few swears. Once she had it, she squelched her way over to a wall and slouched down to pick the gunk off her boots.

    Sitting down beside her, Eme leaned her head on Autumn¡¯s shoulder. After a while, the pair closed their eyes for just a moment.

    A quiet washed over the group as they rested in the treasureless vault.

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty: Through the Fire and the Flames

    Autumn stood at the edge of the abyss, staring down into the dark once more.

    Whispers, dark and unhallowed, echoed up from the bleak nothingness. Were they real? The dark-eyed witch wondered. Or just phantoms of her deranged mind? Ghosts of the imagination.

    It mattered not.

    When they¡¯d finally rested and recovered, the party had gathered together to discuss their findings and forge a plan to find the missing key. While Autumn had thought the task impossible, akin to finding a needle in a haystack in a ravine, Edwyn thankfully had a solution.

    The former miner made a series of modifications to a rune meant to find seams of ore. Rather, it¡¯d now instead send a magical pulse skittering across the surface of the ravine¡¯s walls and into its crevasses and caves to pick out any exposed metals. They were pinning their hopes on that the key was both metal and detectable by the runic magic.

    And, after a few false-positive results, they found it.

    Not too far from the mimic treasure room lay a shallow cave nestled into the rocky wall of the ravine. Thankfully, it was on their side of the rift and only a few dozen feet down.

    Making their way to it through the twisting maze-like pathways was no mean feat, but they¡¯d done so anyway. Now they stood above the small cave, staring down into the dark.

    Initially, Liddie had volunteered to head down to retrieve the stolen key, most likely to soothe her wounded pride. However, as she was still somewhat woozy from the bloodloss, despite Pyre¡¯s potions, they¡¯d all vetoed her and Eme had stepped up to descend in her stead.

    While Liddie sulked, Nethlia tied a few lengths of rope together and made a harness for Eme like she¡¯d done for the pirate before.

    ¡°That tight enough?¡±

    Eme nodded after bouncing in place to test it. ¡°Seems to be. It doesn¡¯t feel loose anywhere. Am I good to go?¡±

    ¡°Yes, descend when you¡¯re ready,¡± Nethlia answered. She¡¯d wrapped the other end of the rope around herself multiple times to serve as Eme¡¯s anchor. ¡°Remember, just tug on the rope three times or yelp and I¡¯ll pull you up.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± Eme nodded. Approaching the edge of the yawning rift, she gulped before slowly backing over it.

    Autumn found it frustrating to be forced to sit back as her bardic girlfriend was lowered into the dark ravine alone, but there was little she could do but watch and worry. If she felt more confident in her own athletic ability, she¡¯d have volunteered herself, but it was not to be. She had to remind herself to have faith in her compatriot¡¯s abilities.

    Still, it was a stressful experience.

    Fortunately, nothing was lying in wait for the lithe catgirl and she bounced swiftly down to the shallow cave unmolested.

    The cave itself was little more than a crack in the rocky wall. While relatively deep, it was barely wide enough for Eme to wedge herself into it, let alone try to enter. Nestled securely into the gap, she peered inside, letting the dim light of the magical lantern on her waist reveal the gloom.

    Piles of refuse and glittering metal littered the floor amongst mounds of stinking bat guano. Looking up, Eme saw hundreds of desert bats clinging to the ceiling. While none awoke at her arrival, she held her breath as they shifted in their sleep.

    Eme screwed up her cute nose at the smell and reached inside the cave. She carefully groped around for anything metal or key-shaped.

    Above, the others watched on anxiously.

    After a few tense moments, Eme found what she was looking for and withdrew the key with an instinctive gasp of success.

    The sound was like a gunshot in the small cave.

    Suddenly awoken, the mass of bats let out shrill, panicking screeches and launched themselves towards the entrance of the cavern. Eme let out a yelp of surprise as the colony slammed into her and sent her tumbling out of the hole. The rope went taut in Nethlia¡¯s hands and the berserker hurriedly started hauling her up.

    Autumn¡¯s heart leapt into her throat as the bats swarmed around Eme¡¯s form. It was all she could do not cast spell after spell into the mass in fear of hitting the bard hidden within.

    Suddenly, Eme¡¯s voice broke through the screeching.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± She shouted up, to the relief of the anxious party. ¡°I got the key! I think! Pull me up now, please!¡±

    Needing no other encouragement, Nethlia continued hauling on the rope and brought Eme back up. Behind the departing catgirl, the disturbed colony of bats dispersed themselves around the ravine and disappeared into other dark caves and cracks in the walls.

    When Eme finally set her shaking legs back on the top of the deep ravine, she pushed the retrieved key into Autumn¡¯s hands.

    Looking down at it, the key looked surprisingly mundane for what it represented. Rather than a traditional key like she¡¯d imagined, with a turning handle and blocky teeth, the bronze key Autumn held in her hands was circular in design and had a thick cog on one side. Ornate patterns decorated the front, worn down by time.

    Autumn tucked the key away in her belt of holding after a brief inspection.

    Other than a few minor scratches and some messy hair, Eme was unharmed. That still didn¡¯t stop Autumn from fussing over her, much to Eme¡¯s blushing embarrassment and not-so-secret joy. With a few flicks of magic, she was all cleaned up.

    ¡°Where to now?¡± Eme asked.

    Nethlia looked over at the question as she repacked the lengths of rope she¡¯d used to lower Eme. A quick glance around the party showed nobody wished to speak up first. She thought over their options as she shouldered her pack.

    ¡°Well,¡± she drawled, ¡°now that we¡¯ve got this trial¡¯s key, we could just go back. Presumably, we¡¯ll find the next within the trial of magic, or whatever it was. If it hasn¡¯t been stolen already, that is.¡±

    ¡°There are three keys, remember?¡± Autumn pointed out. ¡°One could be on the far side of the ravine through that other intact door.¡±

    ¡°The key might also be behind that collapsed passageway,¡± Nelva said, gesturing over to the sundered door. ¡°But I don¡¯t know what we could do about that if it is.¡±

    ¡°Aye,¡± Edwyn rumbled. ¡°Diggin¡¯ it out would take us some time. An¡¯ it¡¯s not likely tae be very stable besides.¡±

    Nethlia nodded slowly, a grimace flashing across her face. ¡°Those are fair points, but we¡¯ve got wounded. A quick break back at camp would do us some good.¡±

    ¡°Hey now, I¡¯m not an invalid,¡± Liddie scoffed from the side, mildly offended as she crossed her arms over her chest.

    While she was up and about, the potions having done wonders for her, she still looked a bit pale and woozy. Still, that didn¡¯t seem to make a difference to the headstrong pirate. ¡°Just need to stretch my legs a bit and I¡¯ll be fine. I¡¯ll be across that gap before you lot. I say we check it out. The far door. No point in leaving if we have to turn back later to find our missing key. This way, even if we don¡¯t find it, we can mark this location off our map.¡±

    Autumn gave Liddie a dubious look. She wasn¡¯t sure if she was actually fine, or if that was just her pride talking.

    Nethlia held up a hand as she thought in silence. After a moment, she breathed out. ¡°Alright,¡± she said calmly, ¡°if everyone is in agreement, then we press on. But make sure to stick together ¡ª there¡¯s no telling what this place will throw at us next.¡±

    <hr>

    A gap yawned before Autumn¡¯s booted feet, separated her from the other side of the ravine. No more than ten feet or so divided the branch she stood on and a broken stone bridge dangling over the chasm. She¡¯d jumped further before, and even with all her gear weighing her down, Autumn was sure she could make it.

    But that wasn¡¯t what made her hesitate.

    For she¡¯d been here before. Not this exact spot, no, but she¡¯d stood before a ravine like it once and had leapt then too.

    Gods, how long ago had that been? A month? Two? And how had this become her norm?

    Thankfully, no immortal host was on her heels this time.

    A familiar feeling crept into Autumn¡¯s mind as she glanced once more across the gap, gauging the distance. That of her stomach falling away as a little voice in the back of her head whispered ¡°jump.¡±

    Was it concerning if she didn¡¯t know if that voice was hers or not?¡±

    Behind her, the others waited patiently.

    As the group¡¯s resident athlete, Autumn had taken it upon herself to go first. Her job would be to carry one end of their rope across the chasm and secure it to the other side to allow the others to cross safely. Or, reasonably safely.

    While Nethlia would¡¯ve done so herself, and likely easily, they needed her on this side of the ravine both to tighten the rope once Autumn had tied it to the bridge and to help anyone else across if they needed it. Already she¡¯d hammered another piton into the thick wood. This time not summoning another horde of horrors, thankfully. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

    ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t want me to just throw you across?¡± Nethlia asked for what felt like the tenth time.

    Autumn shook her head while smiling at the image. Slowly, she bounced on her heels to warm up. ¡°Nah, I can make it,¡± she said confidently. ¡°No offense, but I think I can do better on my own. Just hold onto the rope for me?¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡±

    Backing up from the edge, Autumn tucked all her loose gear away into her belt along with the heaviest of the party¡¯s things that¡¯d fit. She cracked her neck as she loosened up. In her chest, her heart beat a steady rhythm as she breathed deeply. In and out.

    She felt free.

    In that moment, her worries fled. All she could focus on was her body and the jump. Nothing else mattered.

    With a sharp exhale, Autumn took off.

    Her boots pounded the bark like the beat of a drum. Heavy steps saw her racing towards the edge. It approached far too soon for her liking, but with a grunt, she leapt.

    Autumn sailed through the air. The wind whipped through her hair as it streamed along behind her. She enjoyed the sensation. She enjoyed the adrenaline pulsing through her veins like a wildfire.

    Over the lightless abyss, she flew.

    Free.

    No matter how darksome shadows clawed, within and without, they could not reach her.

    Unfortunately, the witch¡¯s flight ended as swiftly as it began.

    Autumn¡¯s boots hit the stonework first, sending a shower of broken pebbles down into the chasm as she threw herself forwards into an awkward stumble. A grin stretched across her features like a knife wound as her breath came out shuddering and heavy. She struggled to contain herself as she bled off her momentum.

    When her euphoria faded, Autumn searched for somewhere to tie off her end of the rope. A solid-looking pillar on the edge of the bridge served her purposes just fine. With it secured, she waved back to her friends on the other side.

    Nethlia tightened the slack rope before tying it off.

    One by one, the party, aside from Nethlia and Edwyn, shimmied across the rope to Autumn¡¯s side. They took different means to cross the gap.

    Edwyn had expressed their concern as to their inability to perform the high-flying acrobats that those of a less stocky, boxy-shaped race could. They were mostly worried about getting stuck in the middle when the rope would sag beneath their weight.

    Thankfully, Nethlia had an alternative solution.

    Autumn had to bite her lip when the towering demoness berserker picked Edwyn up and tossed the grumbling dwarf¡ª err, Manus over the gap to the others waiting to catch them.

    ¡°Not. A. Word.¡± Edwyn glared at them all in turn. They paid particular attention to those of them snickering under their breaths. ¡°This never happened, ye hear!¡±

    ¡°You know,¡± Autumn snorted, ¡°we¡¯re likely coming back this way. So¡­¡± she drawled pointedly.

    Edwyn scowled at her.

    Nethlia landed on the stones with a heavy thud, sending a layer of stone dust crumbling off the bottom of the bridge. Like Autumn, she¡¯d leapt across, not trusting the rope with her weight. Although she did so with far more ease than Autumn had.

    ¡°Alright, enough teasing,¡± Nethlia smiled.

    With all of them gathered now safely on this side of the ravine, and with their way back secured, they set off towards the only door on this side.

    <hr>

    Arriving before the door, Autumn cast a discerning look over it as Liddie examined it for traps or locks.

    It looked different from the rest of the tomb, like a leech suckling onto a decaying carcass. Thick, red painted wood sat securely in the stone wall. Judging by the chisel marks left on the mural surrounding the strange door, someone had added it here after the main tomb had been completed. Likely a lot later, but before the earthquake had sundered the chamber given that the thin stone wall that¡¯d once hidden the door from prying eyes now lay shattered on the ground before it.

    For what purpose someone had carved out a space within the tomb, Autumn didn¡¯t know, but that strange dark feeling of dread was creeping up her spine again.

    ¡°Anything?¡±

    Liddie glanced back at Nethlia as the taller demoness asked her that question. She shook her head. ¡°Nothing. I can¡¯t see any obvious traps, but it is locked. Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s just a mechanical lock, give me a second and I¡¯ll have it open. Strange that it¡¯s so different from the rest of the place.¡±

    Nethlia glanced at the red door. ¡°Good, open it.¡±

    Liddie rolled her eyes. With a few flicks of her lock-picking tools, she triggered the ancient lock to open. The lock let out an ominous grinding as the old mechanism inside strung to life after an age and a half of entrenchment.

    ¡°Just needs a little love tap,¡± Liddie grunted out as she kicked the door.

    For a moment Autumn worried that the door would seize up, but it slowly creaked open under the pirate¡¯s percussive persuasion.

    Instantly, a wave of heat washed over them.

    Autumn recoiled. Staggering back, she covered her face with her tattered sleeves to fend it off ¡ª for all the good it did. When she finally adjusted to the sudden change, Autumn peeked into the hallway beyond the red door.

    A fiery hell greeted her.

    Roaring flames poured forth from a myriad of small holes in the walls, ceiling, and floor at random intervals, bathing the blackened corridor in hellfire. Fireballs, fire blasts, spouts of napalm, and pools of liquid flame ¡ª there was no discernible pattern to the activation of the traps, at least not in Autumn¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Uh, I totally didn¡¯t do that!¡± Liddie defended herself as the others looked at her. ¡°I swear there weren¡¯t any traps on the door!¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes. Glancing down the corridor with her magical sight, she spotted a pair of runes through the magical flames. One at this end of the trapped hallway and another at the other end. The one on their end was dark. Broken.

    A quick inspection courtesy of Edwyn revealed that it was a command sigil, likely meant to deactivate the traps. Now if someone wished to do so, they¡¯d need to brave the flames first.

    While her shield could take a lot of punishment, Autumn didn¡¯t know if it¡¯d shield her from that. Sure, it¡¯d survived a strike from an undead angel and having a mountain of stone fall upon it, but she¡¯d never tested it against heat and magical flames. At least, not that she could recall.

    ¡°None of you would happen to be immune to fire, would you?¡± Autumn asked hopefully.

    ¡°Only resistant,¡± Nethlia and Liddie said at the same time. ¡°And not to this level,¡± Nethlia added.

    Autumn glanced over at the flaming-haired Pyre. She scowled back at Autumn and hastily shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t look at me! I¡¯m only immune to mundane flames and those are clearly magical. I¡¯ll burn up into a crisp like the rest of you. And before you ask, no, I don¡¯t have any fire-protection potions.¡±

    ¡°Huh, I didn¡¯t know that. The mundane flame thing,¡± Autumn clarified. Turning back to the fires, she eyed the blackened corridor trepidatiously. ¡°Should we turn back? I could try to make it through, but I don¡¯t know if my shield will hold up to it. I¡¯ve not tested it against fire before.¡±

    Nethlia shook her head. ¡°Best not risk it. Edwyn, Liddie, could either of you disarm the traps?¡±

    ¡°No can do, boss,¡± Liddie said, crossing her arms in an x. ¡°These traps are dug far too in the walls for me to reach by the looks of them. And the flames feel hot enough to melt anything you try to plug the gaps with. We could try and break down the walls, but that might just bring the whole corridor down.¡±

    ¡°Aye. Let¡¯s not be doin¡¯ that,¡± Edwyn grumbled as they knocked on the carved walls. They didn¡¯t look impressed with what they saw. ¡°These traps are out o¡¯ range o¡¯ ma runes. I could try tae lob one down the hall, but the flame¡¯ll break ¡®em before they reach the command rune at the other end. Sorry.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± Nethlia placated the disgruntled pair. ¡°Anyone else have any ideas? If not, we might as well head back.¡±

    Autumn hummed. ¡°I could take a haste potion and sprint through with my shield up. That could work¡ª¡±

    ¡°I could do it,¡± Eme spoke up shyly, interrupting Autumn. She blushed slightly when everyone turned to her. ¡°I, uh, I can do it.¡±

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Visibly steeling herself, Eme gestured to the flaming traps going on and off down the blackened hallway. ¡°Um, well, the traps aren¡¯t exactly random ¡ª there¡¯s a pattern to them. A rhythm. Music,¡± she explained to their blank looks. ¡°I can hear it. It¡¯s a little off-key,¡± she winced at only a sound she could hear, or at least make sense of. ¡°With a few bardic spells, I should be able to get through it alright. I hope,¡± she whispered that last part.

    The group cast a look down the trapped hallway as one and tried to see and/or hear what the bard did. To them, it just looked and sounded like a chaotic mess.

    ¡°Are you sure?¡± Nelva asked. ¡°There is no shame in us retreating. We don¡¯t even know what is down there.¡±

    Eme drew in a deep breath as she looked around at the others. Bravely, she nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure. I¡¯ve been practicing my spell-songs, trying to make them linger for longer. Now, I think I can keep them going long enough to have a pair of songs going. If I cast both Alacrity of Form and the Quickened Wit of the Fox on myself, I should be able to make it through unscathed.¡±

    Autumn swallowed down her instinctive desire to deny Eme. Instead, she nodded tightly, not trusting her words.

    It was hard for her to place her faith in another¡¯s abilities, especially of someone she wished to protect from harm.

    ¡°Alright. If you¡¯re sure, then I-we all trust you. But if you get hurt, I¡¯ll be right there beside you so fast you¡¯ll think I teleported,¡± Autumn playfully threatened the catgirl. Oh, how she wished she could actually teleport.

    Eme giggled.

    Stepping up, Edwyn pressed a rune into Eme¡¯s palm. ¡°Here, smash this against the control rune when ya get tae the other side. That should deactivate the traps. Good luck,¡± they grumbled, patting the catgirl on her shoulder for good luck.

    Eme nodded to Edwyn, before nodding to Nethlia as well, when the berserker gently clapped her on the shoulder after the runemaster.

    Standing in front of the blackened corridor and fire within, the catgirl bard, armed with dragonbone and dragonblade, hummed under her breath a tune of her own making. Magic slowly filled her limbs and mind as the spell-songs took hold.

    First came Alacrity. The spell warmed the bard¡¯s limbs, lightening them and allowing her to move with a supernatural grace.

    Second came Wit. It warmed her mind. Her reflexes. It allowed her to think with a grace to match that of her body and movements.

    After pouring a skin of water over herself, Eme stepped past the first of the flames gracefully. She held her breath as the super-heated air scorched her, seeking to burn her lungs. Still, she moved down the burning corridor as if in a trance.

    Dancing.

    Flames licked at her clothing, catching the smallest threads alight for barely a second before she moved on. However, never once did they burn her skin. Hot sweat poured down the bard¡¯s back as she danced through the fire and the flames. But, she allowed it to bother her not.

    Autumn stood at the forefront of the group, heart pounding in her throat as she watched on. Tightly, she grasped her wand, ready to dash to Eme¡¯s aid no matter the danger to herself.

    Thankfully, she wasn¡¯t needed.

    Eme flowed around and under the traps with feline grace. With one last leap, she cartwheeled over a billowing napalm trap and rolled to freedom at the end of the hallway beneath another. Turning, she slammed Edwyn¡¯s rune into the command sigil and panted as she watched the traps shut down.

    As soon as they did, Autumn sprinted down the corridor, slamming into Eme with a bone-breaking hug.

    ¡°Water!¡± Eme croaked from her witch prison.

    Autumn detached herself from the sweaty catgirl and hurriedly retrieved a full waterskin for her. The parched bard drained it in seconds. When she was done, Eme grinned proudly even as she heaved warm air into her lungs.

    Striding up more sedately than Autumn¡¯s hurried rush, Nethlia clapped Eme proudly on her back. The force almost knocked the poor Felis over.

    ¡°Good job!¡± Nethlia beamed, not minding how sweaty the catgirl had gotten. ¡°Now, how about we see what¡¯s behind this ominous door, huh?¡± she said, gesturing over her shoulder.

    Startled, Autumn turned and took in the door she¡¯d missed. It loomed before her, a deep red like the other. However, this one still seemed almost¡­wet. She shuddered to think what the paint was. The door gave off an almost physical presence. It felt¡­inviting. But in the same way a gingerbread house in the middle of a haunted woods looked inviting.

    Incongruent.

    Despite everything telling her to flee, to turn around and go the other way, Autumn pushed the door open and gazed into the room beyond.

    Behind her, the others of this world inhaled a horror-filled gasp.

    ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty One: The Dark Pantheon of Evil Gods

    Thirteen statues stood arrayed before Autumn as she entered a red-painted hall. Five lay in broken piles of shattered stone at her feet while the remaining eight still standing were lit from below by flickering crimson light. Red candles burned with a bloody glow as they filled every scrap of available space within the cramped chamber. Only a small path leading towards the ominous statues had been left free of the ever-burning wax.

    A sickly sweet scent of incense and smoke choked the air.

    Looking at the statues, Autumn saw they were of cruder make than the statue of Suthir before. The harsh bite of rough chisels and inexperienced hands gave them a primitive cast in comparison. Yet, they looked more dangerous all the same.

    Collections of glittering coins, scraps of aged inked prayers, and reliquaries of unholy bones litter the bases of these statues amongst even more lit candles. Clearly, they¡¯d seen supplicants in their time.

    The smoky air felt choked with dread and anticipation.

    Behind her, the others dare not to even breathe as they gazed trepidatiously upon the statues before them.

    Autumn looked behind the thirteen before her and saw a terrifying mural painted in the familiar pigment of blood spanning the entire walls. Like all the others before, she could read this one too. Instinctively, she knew that it¡¯d been written by a different hand than those outside. By a darker mind filled with madness.

    According to the maddened writing adorning the walls, these crude statues depicted gods.

    Dark gods. Specifically, The Thirteen Evils.

    Like the statues, five of the names were dust. The other eight burned into Autumn¡¯s mind like a grim omen, and she knew she¡¯d never forget them as long as she lived.

    Or they.

    Vulkvures the Lich, God of Undeath.

    The Great Green Grin, Betrayal made Manifest.

    The Foul Dragoneater, God of Blood and Hunger.

    The Hellkeeper, King of Sin.

    Mammon, God of Greed.

    The-One-Who-Crawls, the Horror from the Dark.

    Morath, the First Vampire.

    The Screaming Silence, that of the Void.

    Reading further, Autumn learned that those that¡¯d constructed this shrine to evil hadn¡¯t been of the pharaoh¡¯s people, but had come later at the behest of their dark patrons. The ones lining this profane hall.

    Those cultists had built this shrine in secret long ago to honor a legacy of death and sin the fallen empire of sand had left behind in its fall.

    They¡¯d seen the ancient entombed pharaoh as a dark messiah. In his indifference and bloodshed, a great many cults to the dark pantheon arose from the crimson-stained sands. So bloated on greed and gluttony, the ancient kingdom fell under the vile sway of the ruinous gods with barely any effort on the cultist¡¯s part. And with the pharaoh¡¯s growing dispassion with the affairs of his people, they¡¯d glutted on the kingdom until it lay twisted and warped.

    It¡¯d been a golden age of evil.

    Autumn wondered if that¡¯d been the goal of Mildred all along ¡ª to turn the empire upon itself, allowing it to be devoured from within.

    Perhaps she did it for some dark, ineffable goal? Or maybe she¡¯d done it for her own twisted amusement?

    Autumn didn¡¯t know, nor did she care.

    As she took a cautious step further into the red-lit chamber, Nethlia stopped her hurriedly by clasping her shoulder firmly.

    ¡°Wait!¡± she hissed quietly. ¡°Those statues, they¡¯re¡ª¡±

    ¡°I know what they are,¡± Autumn interrupted Nethlia gently. ¡°The mural back there says what they are, along with each of their names. Even so, we still need to find that key if it¡¯s here, don¡¯t we?¡±

    The whole time she was talking, Autumn never took her eyes off the statues.

    Nethlia glanced grimly into the ominous chamber. ¡°This place is¡­¡± she trailed off, searching for the words to properly articulate her discomfort and desire to leave. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t be here. It is a dark place. These¡­gods are cruel. Often for no reason at all. It¡¯s dangerous to garner their attention, favorable or otherwise. I think we should just leave.¡±

    ¡°We should destroy this place,¡± Nelva said. The knight¡¯s fists clenched tightly around her weapons as she glared into the room. ¡°It is a place of evil. No good will come of entering it.¡±

    ¡°Shhh!¡± Liddie hastily hissed. ¡°Don¡¯t say that shit out loud! Who knows if they can hear us!¡±

    Nelva scoffed. ¡°I doubt fiends such as these are paying attention to some lost shrines.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t know that!¡± Liddie blanched.

    ¡°Quiet, you two,¡± Nethlia barked. When she was sure they¡¯d be silent, she turned back to Autumn, mulling over what to do. ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll search for that key, but quickly. Touch nothing!¡± she glared at each of them. ¡°Take nothing!¡±

    With that warning, she reluctantly let Autumn go.

    Autumn and the other spread out cautiously into the incense smothered hall in search of a key hidden within.

    The first statue that Autumn approached was of Vulkvures the Lich, the God of Undeath.

    Vulkvures looked like the quintessential Lich ¡ª tall, skeletal, and clad in the heavy robes of an ancient mage. A crown of iron sat upon the statue¡¯s white-painted skull, heavy and grim. In one hand, they wielded a spinal staff capped with a humanoid skull, while in the other, they held a dark spell-book of indeterminate content.

    While similar in build to Death, this dark god lacked the warmth that the old ferryman possessed. Even as a statue, Autumn could feel the sheer arrogance radiating off of them.

    A few offerings littered the skeleton god¡¯s feet. Nothing of value stood out to Autumn, other than a few reliquaries that radiated undeath.

    Autumn was tempted to take them despite Nethlia¡¯s warnings. However, she resisted the urge and bowed to her common sense to not potentially alert the foul god to her presence.

    Moving on, she glanced at the statue next in line.

    A statue of a corpulent goblin, overweight to the extreme, greeted her. It¡¯d been depicted reclining on a stolen throne, held aloft by a mass of smaller goblins visibly struggling under the vast weight. The large goblin held a bloody butcher¡¯s blade in one hand and an overflowing goblet in the other while on their head rested a stolen crown and their hands glittered with robbed rings.

    Curiously, the statue also depicted a smaller goblin on the back of the throne, having clambered up unseen. In their hand, they held a blade of betrayal raised high to stab in the larger one¡¯s unknowing back. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    Both wore grins of cracked, yellowed teeth.

    Autumn was unsure as to which was meant to be the Great Green Grin.

    Maybe both were?

    Shaking her head, Autumn glanced down at the meager offerings placed before the god of goblins. The only thing of value was a blood-stained blade.

    She moved on.

    Of all the gods here, it was only the third that Autumn had heard of before. Even if that¡¯d been only in hushed whispers in the woods.

    Here stood the Foul Dragoneater, God of Blood and Hunger.

    Well, stood was a misnomer, as while the first two statues had been of humanoids-slash-goblinoids, this one was not.

    Carved from black stone, the Dragoneater looked like someone had taken a bottled spider and stretched it out to werewolf-like proportions and then added a few too many heads. Three grotesque heads of unnaturally hinged jaws and eyes that glittered with a hungering madness emerged from a heavily hunched back of chitinous flesh. From that same twisted back, eight or more clawed spider-like limbs grew, some ending in barbed scythe-like blades.

    Below the foul beast rested a stony depiction of a dragon¡¯s corpse which each of the three heads were shown tearing into hungrily. Fresh blood poured freely from the twisted jaws to pool in bowls of tarnished silver where offerings would reside.

    Autumn shivered as the scent of iron hit her and she turned her gaze away to the next statue.

    Larger than the rest, a giant devil, horned of skull and charcoal of skin, loomed over the hall. Climbing up a mound of tortured souls, a myriad of devilish statues coiled in supplication around the great devil¡¯s cloven hooves, included scores of naked succubi and incubi.

    The Hellkeeper, the infernal text scrawled across the statue¡¯s base proclaimed. King of Sin. Ruler of the Fiery Hells. The First Beast. Many were his profane titles, but whispered by her friends was the only one that mattered.

    The Great Enemy.

    Stone chains and cruel armor bound the devil¡¯s cracked flesh that wept fiery blood. Carved rivers of the liquid flame trailed down the statue¡¯s muscular, four-armed body towards the devils below, who lapped up the sinful blood gleefully. Across the Hellkeeper¡¯s back coiled a cloak of blistering fire and grand wings of a bat.

    Near featureless, was the devil¡¯s elongated, horned skull. Only a lipless maw full of grinding, bloodstained teeth adorned their foul face.

    Many offerings littered the devil¡¯s feet ¡ª pacts and deals enshrouded in sin, blood, and life sacrificed on the altar of evil.

    Autumn desired nothing of this profane altar and the pair of demonesses she traveled with avoided it like the plague.

    Moving on once more, the witch turned her attention to the fifth divine effigy. That to the God of Greed, Mammon.

    Curiously, that was a name Autumn knew from Earth. Was it the same creature, perhaps?

    The statue of Mammon looked like a gargoyle with sharp eyes, teeth, and horns of gold perched atop a mound of golden coins. Liquid gold poured down from the dark god¡¯s fanged maw like a river and fell upon a mass of avaricious mortals clawing desperately for his wealth.

    The gold was just painted stone, unfortunately.

    According to Liddie, desperate, poverty-stricken thieves often took to worshiping Mammon in hopes of garnering his favor and power. However, she also told Autumn that it was never worth it, as the dark god frequently took everything the thieves stole and/or owned in tribute for a meager modicum of power. And if they refused, their lives too, he¡¯d claim.

    Pyrite coins, fool¡¯s gold, overflowed the dark god¡¯s altar ¡ª tricks to ensnare the foolish into the Mammon¡¯s debt.

    Keeping her hands to herself, Autumn looked towards the next altar and had to hold back a wince as the sight of it pounded at her mind. An echo of madness loomed within the hall.

    The-One-Who-Crawls.

    An eldritch horror birthed from the deepest depths of insanity. A being beyond rationality. Beyond mortal ken. Even witnessing it etched in naught but stone was like staring into a dark well with no end.

    Fortunately, Autumn had experience with such beings. Even if she couldn¡¯t remember some.

    Only a mind as mad as hers could hope to comprehend even a sliver of it.

    Whoever made this statue must¡¯ve been stark-raving mad. The clawing-at-the-walls-and-their-own-skin type.

    The best way Autumn could describe the nightmarish creature the statue depicted, without losing her mind any further, was as if some twisted artist had merged a scorpion with a bloated caterpillar then added far too many legs. There were thousands or more of them ¡ª humanoid, beast, insect, monster, and other.

    To cap off the horror show that was the warped creature, a vaguely humanoid face stretched into a horrified rictus emerged from where the scorpion¡¯s own ought to be, complete with a gnashing maw of snapping pincers.

    Autumn shuddered and turned away. She didn¡¯t even look at the offerings, as she didn¡¯t want to know what horrors supplicants might offer such a nightmare.

    The penultimate statue was refreshingly normal, if scary in its own way.

    An impossibly beautiful woman had been carved out of ivory-white marble. Haughty, red-painted eyes stared disdainfully down at the witch standing before the statue. Ruby red lips curled around sharp fangs as a trail of dried blood ran down the first vampire¡¯s stony half-nude body to pool and waterfall around the carved cloth at its waist. Age-old blood stained her hands decorated with long claw-like fingernails.

    At Morath¡¯s delicate, unclad feet, dozens of stone thralls clung to her in awed lust and fervor. Each bore throats stained crimson.

    Autumn swore she could feel an almost physical weight of attention bearing down on her as the red eyes glinted in the candlelight, but the sensation passed as swiftly as it occurred.

    Turning away from the statue of sinful temptation, Autumn looked towards the last of those still in one piece.

    The Screaming Silence was one of the strangest of the eight gods. While it wasn¡¯t as eldritch-looking as The-One-Who-Crawls, the statue of the void-born was still somewhat mind-bending to look upon.

    Space and light bent oddly around a colossal stone mass of a thousand screaming mouths and squirming tentacles posed like it was floating as it sat atop several drooping tendrils. Clearly, this dark god possessed a size grander than what simple stone could portray if such a small portion of its presence could imbue the stone statue with a gravity well of its own.

    If her hunch was correct, this monstrous void-spawn was another one of those star devouring gods. She just hoped it didn¡¯t get a hankering for the local sun while she was still here.

    Not much littered the offering altar, but even if there was something good, Autumn didn¡¯t know if she¡¯d risk approaching the distorted space around the statue to take it.

    Frustratingly, she didn¡¯t spot the missing key anywhere.

    Just as Autumn was debating leaving the chamber in its entirety, Eme¡¯s voice broke through the hushed silence in a whispered shout.

    ¡°I found it!¡±

    Autumn hurried over to her alongside the others.

    They found the catgirl standing nervously before another profane altar, this one to a broken god of naught but rubble and dust. On the altar before her rested the key they sought, amongst other tarnished offerings.

    While it was still intact, cultists had defaced the circular key. They¡¯d scratched away the original artwork on the key¡¯s face and replaced it with their own foul images. Dried blood lingered in the rough grooves.

    ¡°What should we do?¡± Eme asked as they gathered around her. ¡°Do you think it¡¯s cursed or something?¡±

    ¡°Possibly,¡± Autumn said as she shuffled closer to the altar to see. She gestured for the others to take a step back as she double-checked the protective charms on her belt. ¡°I can¡¯t see any curses on it, but that¡¯s no guarantee with divine energies. For now, at least. There is one way to check,¡± she said humorlessly.

    Eme blinked, her face twisting up in alarmed concern. ¡°Is that safe?¡±

    ¡°Is anything?¡± Autumn joked. More seriously, she added, ¡°no, but what other choice do we have?¡±

    ¡°We could just leave,¡± Nethlia reminded her. ¡°We don¡¯t need to risk their ire for this. You don¡¯t need to.¡±

    Around the party, the smoky, sweet-scented air circled. It felt heavy with dreadful anticipation.

    Autumn gulped as she stepped closer to the altar. ¡°We could.¡± Without another word, she reached out and grasped the defaced key.

    Nothing happened.

    Releasing the breath she¡¯d been holding, the dark-eyed witch stepped back, taking the key with her. She grinned. ¡°Well, that was anticlimactic. I was half expecting the roof to cave in on us.¡±

    A sundering crack resounded through the chamber like a gunshot as the stone ceiling above her split.

    Baleful glares from the party fell upon the sheepish witch as the chamber rumbled, dust falling down around them.

    ¡°You just had to say it!¡± Liddie bemoaned.

    ¡°Oops?¡± Autumn offered.

    As one, the party turned tail and ran desperately for the exit. Above them, a desert¡¯s worth of sand steadily caved in the ceiling, sending it crashing down around them with resounding booms. Dust and sand filled the air, snuffing out the candles that¡¯d glowed for an age-and-a-half undisturbed.

    Autumn leapt over fallen rocks like a fleeing gazelle who¡¯d spotted a lioness stalking her. She choked on the dusty air as her heart pounded a rhythm of dread in her chest.

    Was it her own fright that saw her limbs moving faster than they ought to, or was it the bardic spell sung by the equally frightened catgirl bard sprinting alongside her that did so?

    Rushing out of the collapsing chamber of sin, the party¡¯s boots pounded down the blackened corridor as it too began crumbling around them. Behind them, rock and sand filled the unholy shrine, crushing the remaining eight statues.

    Hopefully, the dark gods wouldn¡¯t blame her for that.

    As the last member of their party stumbled out of a plume of dust and into the arena of twisted trees and broken bridges, Autumn couldn¡¯t help but laugh. After a moment, the others joined her with relieved chuckles.

    ¡°Come on,¡± Nethlia said, trying to dust herself off furtively. ¡°Let¡¯s head back. One more key to go, right?¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Two: The Trial of Magic

    Dusty shelves overflowing with ancient and yellowed papyrus loomed over Autumn as she and the others stepped into the trial of magic. While the chamber wasn¡¯t as sprawling as the last, it was still fairly expansive. Perhaps as large, if not larger, than the entry hall they¡¯d camped in to wait out the sandstorm.

    A sandstorm that still raged outside.

    Soft amber light played across the rows and walls, shining down from drifting mage lights as they bobbed about in an unfelt breeze.

    Elven statue-like pillars stood at the ends of each row of packed shelves, their outstretched hands holding up the balcony floor above. A set of spiraling stone staircases led up to the second floor that was filled with more rows of dusty shelves, along with a few small tables and reading nooks.

    A glance towards the center of the mystic library showed a collection of various magical workstations, each dedicated to a different school of magic. Altars to the dark art of Necromancy stood beside crystal-laden tables and shining alchemical stands.

    While Autumn felt curious about them herself, Pyre and Edwyn¡¯s excitement eclipsed hers. As soon as Liddie had given them the all clear, they poured over the chests and cabinets that shone with magic in her Witchsight. She shook her head as they excitedly pulled magical ingredients and reagents from the seemingly endless chests.

    Turning away, Autumn glanced around the rest of the room.

    Across from her, at the far end of the room, a curious mirror bordered by silver and strange scripts hung on the wall facing the library. It was taller than any door and made of some other metal besides the polished bronze, unlike all the other mirrors she¡¯d seen so far in this world. A strange liquid-like surface offered an almost unparalleled reflection of the library.

    Almost, but not quite.

    The reflection in the mirror wasn¡¯t right. Autumn could see that much, even from across the room. Gone were the rows of dusty parchments, replaced instead by rows upon rows of mummified corpses stacked atop each other like firewood.

    And it wasn¡¯t just the room that was strange in the mirror. Something about her own reflection and those of her friends was different too. But as far away as she was, Autumn couldn¡¯t tell what that was unless she got closer.

    As she moved towards it to investigate, she looked around the room some more.

    Along the northern wall sat another doorway. Other than the way back, it was the only other obvious exit to the library. Unfortunately, it lay locked behind a gigantic, ominously glowing sigil. Glancing above the door, hieroglyphics told the dark-haired witch that it led to the pharaoh¡¯s tomb.

    Clearly, this was both the way forward and part of the test of magic.

    Now that she¡¯d spotted one mural, the rest seemed to call out to her to read them.

    Thankfully, they¡¯d not been written in blood this time.

    Autumn gave them a quick perusal, reading pieces of the pharaoh¡¯s arcane accomplishments. In between the retelling of the pharaoh¡¯s later life, there were some interesting tidbits of information. For example, according to the painted tale, while the wandering wise woman ¡ª the hag ¡ª had given the ruler of sand eternal life, she¡¯d not given him eternal youth.

    Even as one of the long-lived races, Suthirmesses III eventually succumbed to the rigors of time. Before his first millennium had even passed, strength had fled his ailing body, and he¡¯d degraded to the point of near infirmity.

    So, he¡¯d turned to magic in a desperate search to shore up his weakening self, and in the process, turned himself into a pseudo lich. Not undead, but barely living.

    Autumn shook her head.

    The more she read of this foolish pharaoh, the more pity she felt. Although it was mixed with a healthy amount of disdain.

    Even she, someone who¡¯d only heard about hags and other such dealmakers in fables, knew they¡¯d not offer such a fine gift if they didn¡¯t gain thrice its cost in return.

    After all, immortality didn¡¯t mean invincibility ¡ª there were fates worse than death out there.

    Just look at what¡¯d happened to the pharaoh if you wanted a prime example. His people had imprisoned him in a coffin alive, buried in a tomb beneath the sands for untold millennia. Forever alone. Forever undying.

    A shiver rolled down Autumn''s spine.

    She couldn¡¯t imagine a much worse fate¡­well, she could, but it wasn¡¯t healthy to think about that sort of thing.

    Perhaps she ought to send the poor fool to meet the ferryman as a gift once she was done with him. It¡¯d be a kindness.

    She refused to believe the hag¡¯s curse was inviolable ¡ª there had to be a way to break it.

    If only she had her Tome, then she¡¯d know for sure.

    As she wandered towards the mystery mirror, Autumn stopped beside a shelf full of papyrus at random. She¡¯d been an avid reader back home, and the scrolls had piqued her curiosity. A few of them even glowed faintly with magic.

    Carefully, she plucked a non-magical scroll off the shelf and tried her best not to damage them in their advanced age as she gingerly unrolled it.

    It was blank.

    Autumn frowned as she looked it over front and back. The yellowed parchment was more than just blank ¡ª it was untouched by ink. Not even an indelible groove left by a quill adorned it. Another scroll plucked at random revealed the same. And another. And another.

    Were they all blank? Autumn wondered as she glanced around the towering stacks. Who in their right mind would pack a library full of blank scrolls?

    A creeping suspicion filled the witch¡¯s mind.

    Reaching out, she gingerly plucked another scroll from the stacks ¡ª a magical one this time. She carefully unrolled it only until she saw the barest hint of a magical sigil on the page. While not as well-versed in enchantments as compared to her other magics, Autumn had learnt enough from Edwyn to know a trap spell when she saw it.

    ¡°Rude.¡±

    Autumn carefully placed the scroll back on to the shelf and backed off quickly, inadvertently stumbling into Nethlia in doing so. The demoness had stopped behind her as she¡¯d been examining the scrolls.

    ¡°You found something?¡± Nethlia asked as she caught Autumn.

    Steadying herself with an embarrassed blush, Autumn gestured back to the shelves. ¡°Yeah, the scrolls are trapped. There are a few magical wards mixed amongst the blank scrolls. Oh, yeah, all the scrolls are fake too ¡ª there¡¯s nothing in them,¡± she scowled. ¡°Likely, as soon as you unroll one of the trap ones, it¡¯ll detonate. I haven¡¯t checked, obviously, but it makes sense given how rude these tomb builders were.¡±

    Nethlia smiled slightly as Autumn ranted. ¡°Yes, they were very rude.¡± Glancing over the scrolls, she hummed. ¡°It¡¯s a remarkably simple trap for how dangerous it is.¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn scowled. ¡°If I hadn¡¯t already been suspicious of everything, I might¡¯ve fallen for it,¡± she admitted reluctantly.

    ¡°Still, I¡¯d have preferred it if you¡¯d told Edwyn or even Liddie and let them deal with it,¡± Nethlia rebuked Autumn gently. ¡°That is their role, after all. They know how to deal with traps like this. For all you know, it might¡¯ve triggered just by touching it.¡±

    Autumn blushed at the admonishment. It was a fair point, but in her excitement at discovering something, she¡¯d forgotten all about telling the others about it.

    ¡°Sorry.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s alright. A lesson learned, and all that. Pity there wasn¡¯t anything you could use,¡± Nethlia said.

    An idea bloomed in Autumn¡¯s mind. ¡°Uh, well, that¡¯s not entirely true,¡± she said cautiously.

    ¡°How so?¡±

    Autumn gestured to the traps again. ¡°Well, they¡¯re still spell-scrolls, right? Just with, uh, tighter triggers than preferable. But I¡¯m sure that between Edwyn and myself, we could figure something out with them. Or we could just use them as intended. You know, like magical mines or something.¡±

    ¡°Hmm, I don¡¯t know,¡± Nethlia said, glancing skeptically at the ancient scrolls. ¡°They look pretty old. Would that make them more or less unstable?¡±

    ¡°Uhh.¡±

    Nethlia rolled her eyes as Autumn floundered. ¡°Let Edwyn deal with it. They¡¯ve got decades of experience over you with this sort of thing.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not useless, you know?¡± Autumn pouted. ¡°I¡¯m pretty good with magic too!¡±

    ¡°You picked up magic only around a month ago, by your own admission,¡± Nethlia said flatly. ¡°And while what you¡¯ve accomplished so far is really impressive, I don¡¯t want to see you get hurt or killed by overestimating yourself. No matter how well you can heal yourself afterwards.¡±

    The raw emotion in Nethlia¡¯s voice deflated Autumn. She didn¡¯t think she¡¯d been overestimating herself, but perhaps that was the point?

    ¡°To be honest, that I don¡¯t think dying would stop you from healing yourself should worry me, but it doesn¡¯t. I guess traveling with a witch studying necromancy changes your priorities, huh?¡± Nethlia joked.

    Autumn smiled. ¡°Possibly, but I blame the locals. Do you, um, want to check out that creepy mirror with me?¡± she asked, blushing slightly.

    ¡°Sure, sounds fun,¡± Nethlia grinned as she slipped her hand into Autumn¡¯s own. ¡°But I must warn you, I¡¯m not very good with all this magic stuff.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s okay. I¡¯ll do the magic and you can hit stuff.¡±

    ¡°Perfect.¡±

    With hands entwined, the pair made their way towards the mirror.

    First, they stopped in the center, where Edwyn and Pyre were busy rummaging through the workshops methodically and haphazardly, respectively, to tell them about the trapped scrolls.

    Edwyn scowled at the news. ¡°Ack, a classic wizard trap. Those booknosers wouldn¡¯t think someone would trap their precious scrolls like that. Idiots, the lot of ¡®em,¡± they scoffed. ¡°Lost a few in the ruins ¡®neath like that. Aye, I¡¯ll look over ¡®em later, but I doubt they¡¯ll be o¡¯ much use. These ol¡¯ papers degraded fast outa the tombs, even those inscribed wit¡¯ magic.¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Autumn sighed. There goes that idea.

    ¡°You two find anything here we could use?¡± Nethlia asked.

    At her question, Edwyn¡¯s face twisted in a strange combination of elation and annoyance, settling on frustration after a moment. ¡°Ay¡®n¡¯nae,¡± they scowled.

    Nethlia rolled her eyes. ¡°Could you elaborate? And in a language we can understand, please?¡±

    Autumn choked back a laugh as the grumpy Manus snorted.

    Beside her, Nethlia winked playfully.

    ¡°Well, it looks some gobshite sympathetically bound these ¡®ere arcane matrice boxes,¡± Edwyn kicked a chest beside them, ¡°wit¡¯ hex-thread loops to the chamber¡¯s causal loop rather than wit¡¯ base penta-cords. Which would¡¯ve been insanely stupid ifin they hadn¡¯t also woven the runic temporal threads intae the leylines runnin¡¯ ¡®neath the tomb tae power it. Honestly, judgin¡¯ by the state o¡¯ the rondel sigils an¡¯ base-seven psalms, this place oughta been shuntit across several dimensions by naw. And nae in one piece, neither. Conceptual or otherwise.¡±

    Both Autumn and Nethlia blinked slowly as they tried to parse the runemaster¡¯s words.

    ¡°Uh, didn¡¯t I say to tell us in a language we could understand?¡± Nethlia asked.

    Pyre piped up from where she was digging through the alchemical workshop, not even looking over at them. ¡°What they said was that the reagents aren¡¯t real and we might die any second in an implosion that¡¯d make space and time its bitch.¡±

    ¡°Aren¡¯t real?¡± Autumn asked while Nethlia asked ¡°die?¡± with some alarm.

    Pyre shrugged. ¡°Not much we could do about it. But yeah, all these rare reagents you see,¡± she held up a strange orange root with some annoyed awe to Autumn, ¡°are just condensed magic tied to the room. So if you try to take them with you, they¡¯ll just dissipate, even as a potion or other stuff. Same with any effects if you drank one.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Strange? Annoying? Near worthless for us?¡± Pyre asked. ¡°Yeah, but guilds would still kill for this kind of setup ¡ª they¡¯d save a fortune on training or just be able to play¡ªer, I mean¡ªexperiment with rare or legendary ingredients to their heart¡¯s content.¡±

    ¡°Or kill tae keep it tae themselves ifin they already have somethin¡¯ similar,¡± Edwyn grumbled from the side.

    ¡°You¡¯re a real ray of sunshine, aren¡¯t ya?¡± Pyre rolled her eyes at them.

    Before Edwyn could reply, not that she expected the taciturn Manus to snap back Pyre, Autumn interjected. ¡°Any chance you can copy it for Pyre? Or to sell?¡±

    Edwyn rolled their jaw and idly smoothed out their scruffy beard as they thought.

    Off to the side, Pyre tried to look disinterested in the prospect of having an endless supply of rare reagents to experiment with. She failed, obviously.

    ¡°Possibly,¡± they eventually said. ¡°But naw like this setup ¡®ere ¡ª I doubt the council back home would let our firestarter tie her upcomin¡¯ shop intae the leylines ¡®neath the city. Still, some o¡¯ it could be useful. I¡¯ll sketch out what I can later. Now git! I¡¯ve got work tae be doin¡¯.¡±

    Amused, Autumn shuffled away from the grouch with Nethlia, but Pyre waved her over before she could make it far.

    ¡°Problem?¡± she asked.

    Pyre shook her head. ¡°Nah, I just found what looks like some old recipes. The paper they¡¯re written on is almost dust and they¡¯re in a language I don¡¯t know. Could you translate them for me?¡±

    ¡°Sure. I¡¯ll get to it after I check out that mirror.¡±

    ¡°Good luck with that ¡ª it gives me the creeps,¡± Pyre shuddered.

    With nothing left to distract her, Autumn made her way over to the tall mirror with Nethlia in tow.

    She didn¡¯t even look at the Necromancy altar as she passed it by now that she knew it was all fake stuff on it.

    Autumn stood before the mirror and gazed curiously at her reflection. ¡°Wow, we really let ourselves go, huh?¡± she joked.

    Now that she was closer to the strange mirror that reflected not the room they were in but a changed one full of mummified corpses, she could see just what¡¯d bothered her about it before. Rather than it reflecting a witch and demoness as they stood before it, they saw zombified versions of themselves on its liquid-like metallic surface.

    Above the mirror lay the words ¡ª Mortuary Temple.

    Nethlia didn¡¯t seem to share Autumn¡¯s humor as she stared disgusted at her undead self, shifting nervously as it matched her movements.

    Did it say something about herself that Autumn thought she still looked good as an undead?

    ¡°What does it say?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°Only the dead may pass beyond the veil. Only the living may return,¡± Autumn translated the words engraved along the mirror¡¯s silver border for her. ¡°I¡¯m assuming the ¡®veil¡¯ is the mirror. Do you think it¡¯s a doorway? Would the key be in there?¡±

    Nethlia hummed, glancing beyond her reflection into the changed room beyond.

    ¡°Possibly.¡±

    Autumn examined the mirror surface, almost reaching out to touch it before pulling back. ¡°What do you think happens to something living if it tries to pass through? Think it¡¯ll just impact a solid mirror or be killed?¡±

    ¡°One way to find out.¡± From her pack, Nethlia removed a small piece of dried meat and tossed it at the mirror. They watched fascinated as it passed through the reflective plane before withering to dust on the other side. ¡°There, now we know.¡±

    ¡°How are we meant to pass through, then? You think we could trick it? Make it think we¡¯re dead or something?¡± Autumn asked. She looked a little green from seeing what¡¯d happened to the meat.

    Nethlia shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t ask me ¡ª I¡¯m not really a riddle person.¡±

    ¡°Oh! I¡¯ve got an idea¡ª¡±

    ¡°If it involves any of us dying, then I¡¯m preemptively saying no.¡±

    Autumn playfully snapped her fingers in dismay. ¡°Drat, there goes my masterful plan of strapping a healing potion to a zombie and having it pour it on one of us on the other side.¡±

    Nethlia shook her head. ¡°That wouldn¡¯t have worked. You¡¯d need something a little stronger than a healing potion to cure death, and where are you going to get a zombie? All the materials here will vanish once they leave the room, remember?¡±

    ¡°I was joking,¡± Autumn drawled.

    Mulling over what to do, Autumn couldn¡¯t seem to come up with any ideas. Not even looking at the mirror¡¯s back revealed any clues, as it was firmly stuck to a solid wall. So even if they could remove it, there wasn¡¯t likely a way through without the mirror.

    ¡°I could smash it?¡± Nethlia offered.

    Autumn smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s leave that as a Plan B or C. Maybe Pyre or Edwyn have a solution for us?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s worth asking.¡±

    Making their way back to the pair, Autumn recounted what she¡¯d learned to them.

    Pyre tapped her fingers on a tabletop as she thought about the problem. ¡°Hmm, I¡¯ve read about a potion that could mimic the effects of undeath ¡ª make it seem like you were an undead to other undead. That sort of thing. False life, I think it was called.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s great,¡± Autumn cheered. ¡°Can you make it?¡±

    ¡°Nope,¡± Pyre popped the P, ¡°never bothered to learn it. It wasn¡¯t really a profitable potion in a city like Duskfields and required rather expensive ingredients to make. Maybe if I traveled to Oldgrave, they¡¯d have sold well, what with their undead problems and all, but it was still an esoteric potion to learn for no good reason.¡±

    Autumn slumped. ¡°Great, so back to square one.¡±

    Pyre shrugged. ¡°Maybe there is a recipe in these old scrolls,¡± she said pointedly. ¡°It is a trial, right? So there has to be a solution. That just makes sense, even if they¡¯re trying to kill us.¡±

    ¡°Fair.¡±

    Moving to Pyre¡¯s side, Autumn fished out her notebook, inkwell, and quill. For the next hour, she dutifully translated the faded potion recipes from the ancient script into common for the younger girl.

    Autumn still found it strange that she could write in a language she had no business knowing.

    About halfway through her transcribing, they discovered a recipe that was close enough in effect to the False Life potion Pyre had described to Autumn that they were willing to try it. Pyre had then split off to make a batch for them using the endless chest of ingredients and reagents while she continued scribing the recipes over.

    With a moment to breathe, the others set up a small camp in the center of the room and made a small lunch for themselves and those working.

    Within the ending of the second hour, Autumn had transcribed all the remaining potion recipes the best she could, given their degraded state, and Pyre had completed the potions.

    Autumn stood now before the mirror with a False Life potion in hand. She toasted to the others. ¡°Well, bottoms up!¡±

    She drank the potion.

    A deep chill rolled through Autumn¡¯s body as the potion took effect. Starting from her core, a wave of ice traveled to the top of her head and down to the tips of her fingers and toes. The blood in her veins froze over as her skin became pale and clammy.

    She felt cold. Almost colder than she¡¯d ever felt before. Only the River Styx possessed a more profound chill. Thankfully, she didn¡¯t hear the crash of its waters upon a rocky shore.

    The Autumn in the mirror now looked living rather than undead.

    ¡°How are you feeling?¡± Pyre asked nervously as the others watched on. ¡°Any numbness?¡±

    It took an effort of will on Autumn¡¯s behalf to remember to blink. Facing Pyre, she tried to respond, but her tongue felt like a lead weight in her mouth. ¡°Yyyesss?¡± she slurred. Her words came out more like a drawn out zombie-moan than anything articulate. ¡°Woaaaah, frrrreakyyy. Braaaaiinsssss!¡± she moaned, shambling towards the others with outstretched arms.

    Nethlia rolled her eyes as she caught Autumn¡¯s wrists. A small smile tugged at her lips all the same.

    ¡°Good,¡± she said, ¡°looks like it works. You said the effects will wear off once we¡¯re through?¡±

    ¡°Should do,¡± Pyre shrugged as she poked Autumn. The witch blinked slowly as she barely felt it. ¡°As long as we leave the room, it will. I don¡¯t know if the other side of the mirror counts, but the potions wear off after roughly an hour if it doesn¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°Right, drink up,¡± Nethlia ordered as she let Autumn go.

    As the rest of the party downed their potions, they too took on deathly pale visages like Autumn had. Pyre¡¯s flame winked out and both Liddie and Nethlia¡¯s red skin turned an almost ivory pink. Before too long, a party of zombie-like adventurers shuffled their way slowly through the mirror, passing through their healthier-looking reflections as they did.

    On the other side of the mirror, the potion¡¯s effects wore off almost instantly, causing each adventurer to stumble slightly as they regained their bearings.

    Glancing around, Autumn took in the new chamber.

    Sickly green light from dancing will-o¡¯-wisps shone down on a hall packed full of piles upon piles of mummified corpses, coffins, and canopic jars. Jackal-headed statues had replaced the elven ones of the other room, however they were no longer holding up an upper floor as this one had collapsed into rubble and dust. Gone were the magical workshops in the center of the room, replaced instead by massive stone embalming slabs stained by centuries of bloody work.

    Perhaps the most shocking change from the other room was that they weren¡¯t alone in this one.

    A tall, thin man dressed in frayed and blood-stained linen robes hunched over a stone slab with his back to the party. His attire bespoke of a once religious significance degraded by age. Yellowed bones wrapped around his neck and hung off his shoulders and back like chimes.

    Upon hearing them stumble over the uneven and worn stones, he turned.

    Milky white eyes took in the party. Decayed flesh clung stubbornly to an elvish skull devoid of either a nose or lips. The lack of lips bared his teeth back in a permanent rictus grin. Wispy hair clung to the sides of his bald pate beneath a crown of bones.

    ¡°My, my,¡± the Lich rasped, his voice harsher than the desert they¡¯d fled. ¡°More bodies¡­to add¡­to my collection, kekekeke!¡±

    The sinister laughter echoed through the hall, sending shivers down the adventurer¡¯s spines. The others clutched their weapons tight as they looked to Autumn to speak with the maddened undead.

    Stepping forward, she did so. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked. ¡°And what are you doing here?¡±

    For a moment, the Lich looked genuinely surprised. ¡°The bodies speak? They ask¡­questions? Ha. HA. HAHAHA. KEKEKE,¡± the Lich boomed with crazed laughter. Calming, he spoke with a confused tinge to his voice. ¡°Me? Body, you¡­ask who am I? Who am I? I am¡­I am¡­the Embalmer. Loyal to the pharaoh. Kekeke. For such a crime¡­I was¡­was¡­imprisoned. They locked me up¡­here¡­forever! Kekeke!!!¡±

    Autumn shared a nervous glance with the others as he continued to laugh.

    ¡°How long have you been here?¡± she asked.

    ¡°How long, it asks? Kekeke! How long?! Kekekeke! Forever and ever and ever and ever and ever!¡± The Mad Embalmer broke out into a fit of giggles raspier than sandpaper. ¡°The door¡­you see¡­I cannot pass. It only allows¡­the living to return¡­and I left that weakness behind¡­a long, long time ago. So¡­I¡­am¡­trapped. Trapped¡­trapped¡­trappedtrappedtrappedtrapped!¡±

    ¡°We seek a key!¡± Autumn yelled, interrupting the Lich¡¯s rant. ¡°Tell us and we¡¯ll be out of your hair¡­we¡¯ll leave you to your work in peace.¡±

    The Lich blinked ¡ª only one of his eyelids working. ¡°Key?¡± He asked, confused. ¡°The key! You stole it from me! Took it from me! Thieves!¡±

    Roaring in fury, the Lich stumbled away from his bloody altar and grasped a wicked-looking staff adorned with bones and humanoid skulls.

    ¡°You¡¯ve come again to steal my bones! Steal my bodies!¡±

    Green tendrils spilled free from the end of the Lich¡¯s staff as he whirled it about himself. The sickly energy soaked into the piles of mummified corpses. Another tendril conjured forth, interposed itself between the party and the mirror before they could retreat, sealing them from the exit with a sickly forcefield.

    Around the room, dozens of mummies staggered to their feet with green magic glowing in their eyes.

    ¡°Arise my minions! Arise and bring me their bodies! Bring me their hearts!¡±

    Autumn turned back to her party. ¡°I think we¡¯re about to fight,¡± she offered helpfully.

    ¡°Gee, thanks Autumn. I wouldn¡¯t have known without your input,¡± Liddie snarked as she unsheathed her blade.

    ¡°Enough!¡± Nethlia barked. ¡°Form up and kill the necromancer.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Three: The Mad Embalmer

    ¡°Arise! Arise my minions from your eternal rest! Arise and deliver furious vengeance upon the living whom dares disturb my work! Disturb your slumber! Arise and attend me in death as you did in life! Arise!¡±

    The Mad Embalmer¡¯s proclamations echoed throughout the grand mortuary.

    Ghastly magic unleashed from a grizzly staff saturated the embalmed dead lining the hall, awakening them once more. From the dust and sand, they arose. Dozens of mummified corpses staggered silently to their feet to stare down the living with hate burning in their eyes.

    The tomb guardians all bore humanoid forms wrapped in strips of old linen damaged by rot and age. A distinctive aroma of cinnamon, ginger, frankincense, and myrrh used in their creation wafted off the dead, covering up the dusty stench of desiccated flesh.

    That same creation had imbued these greater undead with a strength and resilience far beyond what they¡¯d possessed in life, along with retaining most of their martial might and training.

    Loyal even in death, the implacable warriors gathered up their regalia of war.

    From their graves, they armed themselves with bronze-tipped spears, curved khopesh swords, and sturdy tall painted shields. Bright blue and gold jewelry and armor adorned the skeletal warriors of the growing legion of the dead. At the back of the formation, several undead archers picked up rotten bows of yew and bronze-tipped arrows from the sands.

    If that was all the tomb guards had brought to bear, it¡¯d still be enough to worry even the most stalwart of adventurers. However, the necromantic embalming had also imbued them all with a palpable aura of fear and a virulent touch.

    While Autumn could easily handle the aura ¡ª basically devouring it to recharge her magic before it could affect her or her friends ¡ª she couldn¡¯t do much about the foul, disease-like curses even a slight scratch could inflict.

    The prospects of those afflicted were¡­grim, or so she was told.

    Sickly green magic swirled about the Mad Embalmer as he cast another spell, this time upon himself. He rose high into the air and leveled his staff towards the living.

    ¡°War!¡± screamed the Lich. ¡°Unto war, march my warriors of eternity! Unto war, brandish your weapons of bronze and hate! Make the world tremble before the might of the dead!¡±

    The rasp of bone filled the hall as the dead marched as one.

    ¡°Wow, he sure loves the sound of his own voice, huh?¡± Liddie said. She slashed her mithril blade through the air nervously as the dead stomped towards the party in a rough formation. ¡°He say anything interesting?¡±

    Autumn shook her head as she hastily cast her Witch Armor spell. The familiar weight of a shadowy breastplate fell upon her chest and back, while a tattered scarf coiled itself around her throat protectively.

    ¡°Nah, just standard mad mage stuff. ¡®Arise my minions. Kill all my enemies. Make the world tremble beneath your bony feet.¡¯ That sort of thing. He called us thieves before, but he didn¡¯t seem all that there to me.¡±

    And wasn¡¯t that an interesting tidbit of information.

    ¡°We can figure that out later ¡ª right now we need to focus,¡± Nethlia said. ¡°Nelva, I want you up front with me. Make sure the undead don¡¯t get past you. Funnel them somehow if you have to.¡±

    Nelva nodded as she slammed her visor shut. She hefted her enchanted shield between herself and the approaching undead. A kaleidoscope of death shone in the shattered mirror.

    ¡°Eme, give us defensive and movement buffs if you¡¯ve got them, but prioritize defense ¡ª we can¡¯t risk getting hurt if they¡¯re carrying magical diseases. Feel free to lop off a limb or two if they get too close to you, but try to stay back.¡±

    Eme nodded as well at Nethlia¡¯s quickly barked orders. ¡°One Ballad of the Ornery Tortoise coming right up!¡± Catching Autumn¡¯s quizzical look, she shrugged. ¡°What? I didn¡¯t name it.¡±

    A hummed tune and melodic lyrics trickled slowly from the bard¡¯s lips. As the languid song filled their ears, so too did it fill their bodies. The party¡¯s skin soon hardened like a tortoise¡¯s shell.

    Turning to the others, Nethlia continued on. ¡°Edwyn, any luck with that barrier?¡±

    ¡°Nay, it¡¯s a tough sono¡¯abitch,¡± Edwyn groused. ¡°Need stronger runes than wit¡¯ I¡¯ve got on me, an¡¯ that blastit necrobollocks is maintainin¡¯ it. It wonae come down unless ye kill ¡®em. Or re-kill ¡®em. Un-unalive ¡®em? Ecch, whatever.¡±

    ¡°Right, I was afraid of that. Focus on hitting the undead with whatever flammable stuff you¡¯ve got. You too, Pyre.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll dae what we can,¡± Edwyn gruffly replied as they dragged Pyre behind Nelva¡¯s cover.

    Nethlia now turned to Liddie and Autumn. ¡°I want you two to focus down the Lich while we engage the rest.¡±

    ¡°We can do that,¡± Autumn replied for both of them. ¡°But, uh, don¡¯t we need to destroy his phylactery to stop him? Like, isn¡¯t that the whole point of becoming a Lich? Even if we vaporize his body, he¡¯ll just reform. And there¡¯s no telling if his barrier will come down if we do.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think it¡¯ll be in here?¡±

    ¡°Because he is. If it wasn¡¯t, he¡¯d have reformed outside ages ago. As he hasn¡¯t, that means it must be in here somewhere. Likely, he¡¯s disguised it as something else.¡±

    Personally, if Autumn was going to make a phylactery, she¡¯d make it either out of something impossible to break, like adamantium if she could get it, or something far more costly to destroy than it was worth just keeping her around, like, say an entire city people were still living in or even the moon. The only limitations she knew of was that it had to be hollow, or have some hollow spaces within it.

    While nobody else would get the joke, she¡¯d love it if the adventurers coming to defeat her saw her phylactery and said ¡ª ¡°that¡¯s no moon.¡±

    Thankfully for her lack of moon-destroying plans, she doubted the Lich had much to work with on that kind of scale.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Nethlia said, breaking through Autumn''s fantastical thoughts, ¡°try to find it between the two of you, but keep that Lich from casting any spells if you can ¡ª we¡¯ve enough to deal with as it is.¡±

    There was little else they could say before the guardians of the tomb were upon them.

    Nelva met the bronze phalanx with her mirror shield while Nethlia crashed into their side.

    Normally, greater undead such as these would be highly resistant, to the point of near immunity, to any non-magical damage that hit them, and as Nethlia¡¯s pole-hammer was unenchanted, her blows ought to bounce off their defenses ineffectually. However, the towering berserker told reality to go fuck itself.

    With a wrathful roar, she swept her long weapon through the massed ranks, shattering bones and rotten spears beneath her mighty strength.

    Above, the Mad enchanter snarled. Impressive, given his lack of features. ¡°Foul miscreant! Know your betters!¡±

    Raising his foul staff high, he sought to cast deathly magics on those below, but a bolt of forceful magic interrupted him. Unfortunately, a shield similar to the witch¡¯s own sprang up before the jinx, intercepting it.

    ¡°You! Thief! I shall flay you alive and make art of your entrails!¡±

    ¡°How lovely,¡± Autumn muttered.

    Before she could send another jinx his way, the Mad Enchanter cast another spell upon himself and vanished before her eyes. Even her Witchsight saw nothing, not that she could see much with all the necromantic energies radiating off the undead.

    ¡°Oh, come on! That¡¯s not fair!¡±

    Autumn sent a barrage of jinxes sailing through the spot the Lich had been before he went invisible, hitting nothing, unfortunately.

    By her side, Liddie grimaced. ¡°Well, that¡¯s certainly not good. Any way you can spot where he¡¯s gone with those witchy powers of yours?¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Autumn shook her head, frustrated. ¡°Not with all this magic in the air masking his movements. Hopefully, he¡¯ll have to drop the spell if he wants to cast any other spells. That¡¯s how that one works, right?¡±

    Liddie shrugged. ¡°I dunno. Possibly.¡±

    Autumn took a moment to knock a volley of bronze-tipped arrows out of the air hurriedly with several Forceful Blasts. Even in their low numbers, the undead archers sought to cloud the skies with death.

    ¡°I¡¯ll hit him if he does, anyway,¡± Autumn continued. ¡°If we find his phylactery, we can draw him out.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s here.¡±

    ¡°It is. It has to be. Nothing else makes sense. If it¡¯s not¡­we¡¯re screwed unless we pull down that barrier. You circle around and look for it while I try to find him.¡±

    Liddie scanned the large hall full of rubble and miscellaneous artifacts. ¡°Any idea what it looks like?¡±

    ¡°No clue ¡ª it could be literally anything.¡±

    ¡°Helpful. Truly,¡± Liddie said dryly.

    Autumn willfully ignored her and carried on. ¡°However, it¡¯s likely very expensive looking. I don¡¯t know how it works exactly, but as it needs to hold the Lich¡¯s soul, it logically needs to be a magical item. Plus, I don¡¯t know if wizards like them could resist making their soul jar look impressive. It could be a sealed box, a jeweled skull, a ring, or an amulet ¡ª anything with an interior space, really.¡±

    ¡°Expensive, you say? I can find expensive,¡± Liddie grinned. ¡°Try not to hit me while I¡¯m out there.¡±

    With a dramatic flourish of her piratical coat, Liddie spun around and slashed her way through the undead nearest to them towards the shadows. Between blinks, she vanished into the dark.

    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best,¡± Autumn muttered to herself.

    Still unable to see the Lich, she instead turned her attention towards the amassing undead.

    Fire bloomed brightly in their packed ranks, courtesy of both Pyre and Edwyn. Thrown orbs of alchemical flames and bursting fiery runes caught the dry linens and withered flesh of the undead alight with ease. Frightened by the flames, or at least with an approximation of the emotion, the undead staggered back from the conflagration consuming them.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Blasts of violet knocked several off their feet to burn helplessly in the sand and dust.

    As undead creatures were immune to both fear and necrotic magic, there was little else Autumn could do to help without putting herself or her teammates at risk. She regretted not learning how to disrupt the formation of undeathly energies while she¡¯d been learning how to create them.

    Reaching out with her mind, Autumn tried to subvert the Mad Enchanter¡¯s will and wrest control over the Tomb Guard.

    However, the Lich had many millennia of experience over her in the art of Necromancy, and it felt like she¡¯d run into a wall of force. Her attempts fizzed away without effect.

    Another volley of bronze-tipped arrows whistles over the heads of the burning mummies towards the party.

    In response, Autumn unleashed another blast of magic back towards them, smashing them all to splinters.

    Her ivory wand roared in her hand. Its detest of undeath empowered her spells beyond their normal limits. For now, at least. Still, she clamped down on the wand¡¯s will with her own, lest it become too wilful and cause her to inadvertently harm her friends in its furor.

    It grumbled and fought her for a moment, but she was its master, its creator, and she won the contest of wills.

    The Tomb Guard chittered silently as they fought.

    Bones broke. Shields shattered. Flesh burned. And armor melted. What few blows they could land, reinforced flesh turned aside.

    While many, they were not endless.

    Slowly, the party whittled down the warriors of old. If the Lich wanted to drown them in the dead, as he said he would, he¡¯d have to show himself eventually in order to do so. More dead lay ready to be raised in their great mounds.

    And show himself he did.

    Suddenly, the Mad Embalmer appeared out of thin air and hovered before the party. His face lay twisted in a grim scowl. ¡°You,¡± he snarled down at the living. ¡°You all should just¡ª¡±

    Jinxes splashed harmlessly across the Lich¡¯s magical shield as he dramatically raised his arms. Behind him, a tidal wave of necrotic energies rose to match his movements.

    ¡°¡ª die!¡±

    With a screamed shout, the Lich threw his hands forward and sent the colossal, dire wave crashing towards the party.

    ¡°Get behind me!¡± Nelva shouted.

    Autumn sprinted across the sandstone floor towards her, heart pounding her throat as she slid to a stop behind the armored knight. The others piled in beside the witch, throwing themselves at Nelva¡¯s back to brace the brave chevalier against the oncoming wave. With a shout, she slammed the edge of her enchanted shield down into the floor, cracking the stone.

    Liddie was nowhere to be seen. Autumn just hoped she¡¯d found somewhere safe to hide.

    The necrotic wave washed over the undead, quenching their flames and bolstering their decaying bodies. It roared towards the party, and with an almighty crash, smashed into Nelva¡¯s shield.

    Nelva boot¡¯s slid back beneath the sheer power of the magical wave and the force of it pressed her back into those she protected.

    Around the shield, the green hellish waters flowed.

    With a flash, the Reflection of Kazam held in the knight¡¯s hands activated. From its shattered surface erupted a prismatic spray to match the wave that¡¯d crashed into it. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet ¡ª all the colors of the rainbow washed over the guardians of the tomb towards the shocked Lich.

    When the lightshow dimmed, the Lich¡¯s undead army lay burned, electrocuted, frozen, petrified, or simply just gone.

    ¡°Wow,¡± Autumn whistled. ¡°So that¡¯s what that does. I hope Liddie wasn¡¯t caught in that.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯s fine. Deal with the spellcaster before he vanishes again,¡± Nethlia ordered.

    ¡°Right.¡±

    Turning away from Nethlia, Autumn leveled her wand towards the apocalyptically mad Mad Embalmer. She focused her magic tightly down her arm and coiled it into the lightning spell she¡¯d yet to master. As a tingling spark built up in her magical channels, she unleashed it towards the Lich still hovering in the air.

    A boom of thunder ripped through the room as the spell jumped the distance in a near instant.

    Without even looking at her, the Lich cried out ¡ª ¡°Counterspell!¡± ¡ª and the lightning fizzled out before it even touched him.

    ¡°Motherfucker!¡± Autumn cursed as she clutched her numb arm to her chest.

    ¡°Such paltry magics! I hath learned magic under the pale moon, under the starless sky, under the dry winds and shifting dunes, and you wish to cast me low with this?! You shall pay for this insult to my great self!¡±

    The Lich sent a bombardment of green-tinged magic missiles screaming towards Autumn as he raged.

    Autumn hurriedly raised her violet shield and watched as the homing missiles crashed one by one onto the rippling surface. Distracted, she could do nothing to stop the Mad Embalmer from raising yet more of the undead to add to his Tomb Guard.

    ¡°Arise minions and destroy my foes!¡±

    With a wave of his staff, the Lich sent out a wave of sickly green light into a hundred corpses littering the chamber. They rose silently, hauntingly, to their feet as that light of Necromancy glimmered in their eyes. Bronze weapons they gathered from the previously fallen as they marched towards their hated foes.

    Yet, the foul spellcaster wasn¡¯t done.

    Around the room, the tall jackal-headed statues came to life. Painted limbs cracked as the towering Ushabti stepped off their plinths, rocking the ground as they landed. In stony hands, they bore heavy curved swords of stone.

    Sweat pooled down Autumn¡¯s spine as she paled at the sight of them. ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± she whispered under her breath.

    ¡°Autumn,¡± Nethlia barked. ¡°Anything you can do to stop them? Or to keep that Lich from vanishing again?¡±

    Autumn jumped. ¡°Uh, I have a Counterspell scroll of my own I could use, but I was saving that for the fight with the hag. Even if I could learn a word of power from it, there¡¯s no guarantee it¡¯d work the same way. The banishment spell didn¡¯t,¡± she said, hurriedly.

    Nethlia¡¯s brow furrowed as she contemplated her options. Things were looking dire, but it wasn¡¯t unsalvageable yet.

    Step by pounding step, the towering statues approached amongst the legion of the dead.

    ¡°Hold off on it for now, but use it if the Lich tries to cast something we can¡¯t handle. Something worse than that wave. We just need to buy Liddie some time to find that phylactery. Can you keep casting, or did that lightning knock you out of the fight?¡±

    Autumn flexed her hand. While it still felt somewhat numb, she thought she could cast fine with it all the same. Not that she¡¯d be casting any more lightning bolts anytime soon ¡ª the risk of hurting herself was too great.

    ¡°I¡¯m good.¡±

    Nethlia nodded tightly before launching herself at the undead to support Nelva¡¯s defense. As soon as she arrived, she tore a painted tower shield free from withered hands and caved in the undead¡¯s skull with an armored headbutt.

    A song of alacrity joined the rhythm of combat, lightening limbs as it spilled forth from sweet bardic lips. The party moved faster as they carved, cut, and crushed.

    Fire and flame bloomed along the dead legion¡¯s flanks, sending great waves of heat rolling through the ranks of the undead. They shied away from the orange glow, crushing themselves tightly together in the center.

    An idea percolated in Autumn¡¯s brain at the sight.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea!¡± she yelled.

    ¡°We¡¯re all ears!¡± Nethlia yelled back as she broke the kneecap of a statuesque Ushabti. It swung back at her with a great stone sword as it crashed down onto one knee.

    Luckily, the berserker ducked in time.

    ¡°Funnel them as tightly together as you can! And I need someone to distract the Lich so that he can¡¯t counterspell me again!¡±

    With a roar, Nethlia smashed the Ushabti¡¯s head off with a powerful swing of her pole-hammer. ¡°Easier said than done, but we¡¯ll give it a go,¡± she yelled over the clamber of combat. ¡°Send me a message when you¡¯re ready! I know just the thing!¡±

    Unholy spells splashed violently around Autumn as she rummaged hastily through her belt of holding for what she needed to pull off her plan.

    Above her, the Lich continued to hurl both magic and insults down upon the witch and her party.

    While she was doing so, the others corralled the undead tightly together with fire and violence. It was hard, dangerous work, especially with how insanely outnumbered they were.

    Thankfully, undead were famously stupid.

    ¡°We can¡¯t hold them here for long!¡± Nelva called back as she scrambled back from the marching phalanx.

    Finding what she was looking for, Autumn pulled it out of her belt and rushed over to the front. [Now!] she whispered magically into Nethlia¡¯s mind. [Distract him!]

    Nethlia needed no other encouragement. Reaching forward into the phalanx, she tore a spear free from undead hands and hurled it towards the hovering Lich like an Olympic javelineer. The spear sailed through the air unerringly towards its target.

    Surprised, the Mad Embalmer quickly flew out of the way, only to have another spear thrown accurately towards him.

    So distracted was he, that he did not see as Autumn unrolled a spell scroll and read the words emblazoned upon it.

    When they¡¯d looted the necromancer¡¯s tower, Autumn had taken four scrolls from that gilded vault. The banishment scroll she¡¯d used to rid themselves of the undead elemental tied to the black cauldron. A Counterspell and Planar Binding spell scroll she intended to use against the hag.

    And finally, Dragon¡¯s Breath.

    As the scroll burned away in Autumn¡¯s hands, she spoke the word of power towards the undead arrayed before her.

    ¡°Burn.¡±

    Roaring from the witch¡¯s mouth came a cone of great dragon fire, hotter than a god¡¯s forge or even the devil¡¯s own hellfire. It incinerated the undead in an instant and turned the statues to naught but molten glass. The air within the mortuary chamber boiled as the stream of flame continued to roar. It felt like an age had passed before the inferno ceased, but it couldn¡¯t have been more than a few seconds at most.

    Autumn bent over as she hacked out plumes of smoke.

    ¡°I hope ¡ª cough ¡ª I hope that doesn¡¯t ¡ª cough ¡ª happen every time I do that,¡± Autumn finally coughed out, wisps of dark smoke streaming out of her mouth as she spoke.

    ¡°You! You! Gahhh!¡± The Mad Embalmer let out an inarticulate scream of rage at seeing his army undone.

    Unfortunately for his blood-pressure, non-existent as it was, that wasn¡¯t all the bad news he was to receive.

    Across the smokey chamber, Liddie appeared holding a gilded canopic jar aloft. ¡°Hey!¡± she yelled, drawing everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Is this it?!¡±

    The Lich¡¯s milky eyes bulged at seeing his phylactery held in the pirate¡¯s hands. Screaming, he darted towards her through the air.

    ¡°Take your filthy paws off my soul jar, damnable hellspawn!¡±

    Liddie laughed as she danced out of the Lich¡¯s way. ¡°Hah! I guess I was right! I wasn¡¯t even sure it was it! What an idiot! He fell for the oldest trick in the book.¡±

    ¡°Just destroy it!¡± Nethlia roared as she rushed towards the Lich.

    ¡°I tried! It didn¡¯t work! I need something sharper than mithril!¡±

    As Autumn straightened up, her eyes fell upon the dragon blade held loosely in Eme¡¯s hands. Blinking the smoke out of her eyes, she fluttered her gaze between the snow sword and the soul jar.

    ¡°Eme, your blade ¡ª cough, cough ¡ª you need to cut the jar.¡±

    Eme started at Autumn¡¯s hacked words. She glanced down at the blade in her hand ¡ª the Snow Demon¡¯s Fang, Yukioni no kiba, in her native tongue. A blade made from a dragon¡¯s tooth. If anything could cut the lich¡¯s phylactery, it was that. Her dragonbone fingers clenched tightly around the tsuba-less, white-wrapped hilt as her eyes filled with a steely resolve.

    ¡°You can count on me!¡±

    Like the wind was at her feet, she sprinted towards the fight, having resheathed her blade quickly.

    Autumn doggedly followed in her footsteps, the others not too far behind.

    Eme slid to a stop once she¡¯d come as close enough to the pirate currently dodging devastating spells as she dared. Setting her feet apart, she grasped her blade¡¯s hilt with one hand and the saya, the sheathe, in the other.

    ¡°Liddie! Over here!¡± she called.

    Hearing the catgirl bard¡¯s call and seeing what she intended to do, Liddie grinned and lobbed the phylactery underhand towards her.

    Snarling, the Lich sped through the air towards it.

    Eme closed her eyes. Crouching low, she listened to the music of the world. She listened to the rapid beat of her heart, to the rush of wind as the jar hurtled towards her, to the singing of her blade as it waited in its sheathe for the perfect moment to strike.

    She listened.

    And when it all aligned, when the song became one, she drew her blade in a flash.

    For a moment, Eme thought she¡¯d missed. Her blade had cut so cleanly through the air that it wasn¡¯t until she opened her eyes that she saw that she¡¯d cut the soul jar perfectly in half.

    The Lich¡¯s fingers had barely brushed the phylactery when she¡¯d struck.

    As the two halves fell, they let out a keening whine. They exploded with a substantial force, sending all of them, including the Lich, tumbling across the ashy ground.

    Autumn groaned as she lay on her back, staring up at the stone ceiling with stars flashing in her eyes.

    Beside her, the ancient Lich rose. His withered body shook with an incalculable rage. He stared down at Autumn as the others tried to claw themselves to their feet. Pointing a finger towards the downed witch, he spoke with such venom, such hate, that it felt like a physical thing.

    ¡°You have cost me dearly, thief. Do you have any idea how hard a soul jar is to make? Do you know what I had to do to get it? No, you are an ignorant child. You are but fuel for my art. An ingredient. I would have loved to take you apart and put you back together, but now? Now you¡¯ll just die. Finger of D¡ª¡±

    ¡°Oh, shut up and just Burn already!¡±

    The flames engulfed the Lich.

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Four: A World of Ash and Embers

    The third key wasn¡¯t in the mortuary.

    Resting her tired body on a low step, Autumn gazed out over the chamber of ash as the scent of incinerated undead filled the air.

    Upon the felling of the mad Lich, the barrier he¡¯d cast separating them from the mystic library and greater tomb had vanished. And with it, so too did the few remaining undead that¡¯d escaped her fiery breath.

    Thankfully, none of her friends had been hurt beyond a few easily treatable cuts and burns. Nobody had contracted any deadly diseases from the undead at the very least.

    With their way back now secured, they¡¯d searched through the piles of ash and glassed sand for any valuables and discarded weapons and armor along with the remaining key. While the search for the key had proven fruitless, the same could not be said for their general looting. From the ash they¡¯d retrieved a great deal of melted bronze once the stone floor had stopped glowing red.

    Still, that meant the key to the pharaoh¡¯s tomb was gone ¡ª stolen, if the mad Lich was to be believed.

    In his madness, the Mad Embalmer had mistaken them for the thieves, accusing them of taking his treasured key. While this had directly contributed to their hastening towards violence, Autumn didn¡¯t believe that such could¡¯ve been avoided, given both the Lich¡¯s derangement and predilections towards their bodies.

    Autumn coughed, wincing as that aggravated her raw throat.

    Who knew breathing fire could have such deleterious effects?

    As she downed some water to soothe the ache, the witch wondered whether the taken key was the same as the one she carried now ¡ª the one she¡¯d rescued from that altar to evil.

    And if so, where was the last?

    Autumn¡¯s thoughts naturally drifted back to that dark chamber. Annoyingly, but understandably, none of the others wanted to talk about what she''d seen in that shrine to the dark pantheon of evil gods. Even the usually amicable Eme was staying quiet.

    While she wanted to respect their beliefs and desire to forget, if they were going to come across these sites with increasing frequency in the future, Autumn wanted to know as much as she could about these thirteen, now eight, evil gods. And about their relation to the so-called noble pantheon of good gods.

    As long as the knowledge of them itself wasn¡¯t harmful, like some other fantasy gods she¡¯d not name.

    Autumn shuddered.

    Hopefully, the warp didn¡¯t exist in this world. She hardly needed those kinds of angels and demons in her life right now.

    She¡¯d have to ask them later. For now, everyone was busy partaking in the time-honored adventurer tradition of looting.

    Along with the clumps of melted bronze that they fully intended to take back home to sell, they found several dozen weapons that were mostly intact, half-a-dozen sets of scorched armor, and a handful of sooty, ancient jewelry pieces made of blue glass and gold. While they stashed away the swords as is, they snapped the spearheads and arrowheads off their charred, rotten wood. They didn¡¯t bother with the tower-shields and the yew bows were little more than ash.

    Autumn couldn¡¯t help but wince each time they pulled ruined loot from the ash.

    While she didn¡¯t regret using the spell to save their lives, or at the very least, prevent injury and bring the fight to a swift conclusion, the sight of the burned wealth still hurt her mercurial heart.

    When Pyre told her just how much Mummy dust and wraps sold on the open market, Autumn almost fainted.

    According to the alchemist, powdered mummy was a highly sought after ingredient used to brew potions that¡¯d cure a variety of debilitating magical diseases. As the Echea Empire banned the creation of undead ¡ª she¡¯d given Autumn the side-eye at that, which the witch willfully ignored ¡ª and the fact that unclaimed ancient tombs like this were hard to come across, the linen-wrapped undead were literally worth their weight in gold.

    Thankfully for Autumn¡¯s heart, some of the tomb¡¯s guardians had survived the fight merely scorched.

    Quickly and carefully, the adventurers gleefully processed the dry undead into nearly fifty small bag¡¯s worth of dust and wrappings. Autumn almost had dust coming out of her ears at how much they stuffed her belt pouches full of the stuff. She was just glad the pocket dimensions held stuff separate from each other.

    Autumn offered a few apologetic prayers to Suthir for her party¡¯s desecration of the undead bodies. Even if it was for a good cause ¡ª to cure diseases¡­and their wallets.

    For the Mad Embalmer, she offered nothing.

    The Lich¡¯s ashes lay separately from the rest. Even in double-death, he was alone.

    When Autumn had spoken her newly learned word of power on her own for the first time, she¡¯d only managed to ignite the Lich¡¯s robes. However, that¡¯d been enough. The magical flames had quickly caught the Lich¡¯s dry flesh into a grand conflagration that couldn¡¯t be quelled until he was naught but ash. And without a soul jar to tether his soul to the mortal plane, death had finally claimed him.

    A reaper¡¯s mercy.

    He¡¯d have to pay for his own way across the Styx, for there was nobody who cared to place coins upon his eyes¡­if he had any.

    The only things to have survived her Witchfire ¡ª she was calling it that now ¡ª were those of enchanted make. A ring, an amulet, and a grim necromantic staff. Like all the other unidentified things they¡¯d found, they¡¯d bundled them up in spare cloth without touching them to be examined later by a professional.

    Autumn added an identification spell to her list of things to learn.

    Oh, and at Autumn¡¯s urging, they¡¯d scooped up both the Lich¡¯s ashes and the two halves of the sundered phylactery as well. While she didn¡¯t know how much they were worth, or who exactly would pay for them, her half-remembered, tangential gaming knowledge told her they¡¯d likely be more expensive than everything else put together¡­hopefully.

    As the loot continued to disappear into her belt pouches, Autumn wondered idly just how much they could carry and how much room was left.

    They¡¯d not found a limit yet, but sooner or later, they would. She didn¡¯t want to become one of those hoarder gamers that kept everything ¡°just in case.¡±

    Autumn¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by another pulse of her headache.

    Using a word of power was no less taxing on her mind now that she knew two. A mortal mind like hers just wasn¡¯t supposed to understand nor speak the language of magic unaided or without great training. What Autumn was doing was the magical equivalent of sticking a fork into a power outlet to charge her spells.Or something like that. Her metaphors could use some work.

    That she could do anything other than writhe on the floor was astounding and a testament to her force of will. Not that she appreciated it with her brain pounding against her skull.

    ¡°Ow.¡±

    ¡°You okay?¡± Nethlia asked as she stopped beside Autumn.

    Squinting up at the demoness, Autumn shrugged. Something she regretted instantly. ¡°Ow. Yeah, it¡¯s just a headache. I¡¯ll be fine in a bit as long as I take it easy. You all done?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, just waiting on the others now. Liddie¡¯s giving the place one last sweep.¡± An awkward silence descended on the pair as they gaze at the wasteland of ash Autumn had caused. ¡°So,¡± Nethlia drawled, ¡°you can set things on fire now? That¡¯s impressive?¡± she half complemented, half asked.

    Autumn winced. ¡°I doubt it¡¯ll ever be as impressive as dragon fire again, but I¡¯m sure I can light a good campfire,¡± she joked. ¡°Now I¡¯ve got both Begone and Burn. I¡¯m sensing a B-theme. What¡¯s next? Battle? Break? Bondage?¡±Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°Hold off on that for now. I¡¯m sure two is plenty to wrap your head around. Take care of yourself, alright?¡±

    ¡°Will do.¡±

    As they talked about inconsequential things, like what they wanted for dinner tonight, the others steadily congregated towards them.

    Pulling herself to her feet, Autumn favored Eme with a proud smile that made the catgirl blush. Her final strike upon the Lich¡¯s phylactery had been rather cinematic to watch. Like a seasoned samurai, she¡¯d cut without even looking, relying on her honed hearing.

    Shyly, the bard basked in the praise and encouragement of the others.

    Once everyone had gathered around, Nethlia addressed them all. ¡°Good work, everyone,¡± she boomed. ¡°I just wanted to say a few words before we move on. I wanted you all to know how proud and impressed I am with how you all acquitted yourself in that fight. It was a tough battle, and I don¡¯t know many that could¡¯ve come out of it unscathed like we did. So, good work, and keep it up.¡± Around the party, spines straightened with pride at her praise. ¡°Now, we¡¯ll move on before I embarrass myself. Pyre, Edwyn, how are your stocks?¡±

    Pyre glanced at Edwyn before answering first. ¡°I don¡¯t know about Edwyn, but I used up three alchemical bombs here, three in the other chamber, and two on the ride over. I¡¯ve still got half-a-dozen left and a brace of acid bombs. We¡¯re good on healing potions. If this tomb goes on like it has so far, I¡¯ll need to restock somehow afterwards if you want me to be of any use against the hag.¡±

    Nethlia nodded firmly. ¡°We¡¯ll keep that in mind. Hopefully, we¡¯ll find something later for you. How about you, Edwyn?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Edwyn grunted. ¡°Only used up a handful o¡¯ ma fire runes, but I got enough spare bones tae make more ifin ye give me time.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s good. We¡¯ll make time later for you to do that. Any more issues I need to be aware of before we go?¡±

    Once she was sure nobody had anything more to bring up, Nethlia turned and led them back towards the mirror and through to the chamber beyond. After checking it for traps, of course. You never know.

    Autumn let out a shiver as she passed through the liquid metal. While Liddie hadn¡¯t found any, she still half expected to set off a trap passing back into the false library. Exiting the mortuary, the party made their way swiftly to the sigil-locked door to the north of the hall.

    The sandstone portal blazed with magical sigils as it loomed over the adventurers. Swirling sigils hammered into Autumn¡¯s mind. With only the briefest of glances, she knew she¡¯d never understand even a fraction of a fraction of the magic sealing the door.

    Worn murals of elven mages decorated the door, old and young, elders and novitiates. Above the door sprawled a story, a riddle.

    Autumn read it out loud as they approached.

    ¡°By Wizards three, the fires were born. By color bold, they mastered magic. Purple saw the first wizard to master the elements, and their claim upon them was known. Green saw the second through the frozen wastes of time, and by that coldness did they master themselves. Gray, cold and unknown, the last wizards sought out and with it outlasted the other two. Light the same and the path, old and young, shall open henceforth.¡±

    As she spoke the final word, a trio of cold, ash-filled braziers ignited, filling themselves with low, orange flames.

    ¡°Huh, how about that.¡±

    ¡°Puzzles? Why¡¯d it have to be puzzles!¡± Liddie whined.

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°It sounds like we just need to light these braziers with specific colors. Nobody happens to have zinc on them, would they?¡±

    Nethlia held out a hand to stop them. ¡°How about we check them over for traps first before we go throwing things into them. Edwyn, care to do the honors?¡±

    ¡°Gladly,¡± Edwyn said. Carefully approaching the braziers, they pulled out another trap-finding rune and activated it. The braziers predictably lit up. ¡°Hmm? Nasty work this.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯d you find?¡±

    ¡°Well, traps for one. If ye light them in the wrong order or wit¡¯ the wrong color, they¡¯ll explode intae a 30-foot radius fireball around themselves.¡±

    Hearing that, everyone other than Edwyn backed up hurriedly out of range of the braziers.

    ¡°These fucking tomb builders,¡± Autumn grumbled viciously under her breath. ¡°You can disarm them, right?¡± she asked louder. Just because she could now spit fire didn¡¯t mean she was immune to it.

    Edwyn shook their head regretfully. ¡°Nay, not ifin ye want tae get through the door ¡ª it¡¯s protectit against tamperin¡¯ somethin¡¯ fierce. Tae unlock the door, ye need tae cast specific combinations o¡¯ magical elements or schools intae the flames. And nay, I cannae tell which colors gae tae which types o¡¯ magic ¡ª the enchantment is mighty convolutit. Likely on purpose. Come an¡¯ have a look. It¡¯s safe as long as ye don¡¯t cast anythin¡¯ intae the flames.¡±

    Nervously, Autumn, Eme, and Pyre approached while the less magically inclined of the party kept themselves at a safe distance.

    Looking over Edwyn¡¯s shoulder, Autumn spotted the mess they¡¯d been talking about. Like a gordian knot, the magical circuits making up the braziers were snarled together in a great tangle. Only unlike the mythical knot, this one would detonate rather violently if cut out.

    Autumn had no clue as to what to do.

    ¡°Pyre, Eme? Any ideas?¡± she asked hopefully.

    While Eme just shrugged apologetically, Pyre examined the braziers cautiously. Crouching down, the young alchemist gathered up a handful of colorful ash that¡¯d spill on the floor from the first brazier. As it spilled through her fingers, she tested it with touch, smell, and taste.

    Autumn raised an eyebrow as Pyre spat out the ash.

    ¡°Evocation magic. Hot and cold. Maybe fire and ice aligned spells?¡±

    ¡°You can tell that from taste?¡± Autumn asked skeptically.

    Pyre shrugged as she stood up and dusted off her palms. ¡°We all have our talents. You cast freaky magic and raise undead bears, and I taste magical ashes. Uh, not that I recommend doing it my way if you¡¯re not an Ignis like me. Anyway, my best guess is that we need to add both fire and ice magic to the first flame. Red and blue make purple.¡±

    Autumn snorted. ¡°What, you think they matched the colors thematically to the elements?¡±

    ¡°It makes as much sense as anything else around here.¡±

    Eme hummed in agreement. Peering at the second flame, she spoke lightly. ¡°So, green for the second flame? If blue is ice magic, does that make time yellow? That was what the riddle said, right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn nodded. ¡°¡®Green saw the second through the frozen wastes of time.¡¯ Sounds like ice and time to me. Not too hard a riddle. Probably to make us overconfident and make a mistake, then¡­boom.¡±

    The four of them shared a wary look at the braziers.

    Picking up a handful of ash from the second brazier, Pyre tested it too. ¡°Hmm, tingly,¡± she said as she tasted it.

    ¡°And tingly means time magic?¡± Eme asked.

    ¡°Could do. Reminds me of haste potion ¡ª they speed things up.¡± At the other¡¯s annoyed looks, she huffed. ¡°What? It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve had much experience making potions that deal with time. That¡¯s far more powerful magic than my family could afford. I''m doing the best I can.¡±

    ¡°And we appreciate it,¡± Autumn reassured her. ¡°Now, what about the third? In the riddle it said the third wizard outlasted the others. It also said cold and unknown, but as it needs to be a gray flame, it can¡¯t be ice. Any thoughts? I think one half is Necromancy myself.¡±

    ¡°You would,¡± Pyre smiled. ¡°Hold on, let me taste it.¡± After dabbing some of the ashes on her tongue, she hurriedly spat it out. ¡°Yup, Necromancy alright, with a dash of enchantment magic on the side.¡±

    ¡°Enchantment? Like the braziers?¡±

    Pyre shook her head. She gestured over at Eme. ¡°Nah, more like bardic spells. Things that affect other people and the like.¡±

    Eme perked up at her name.

    Autumn smiled at her before laying out the plan. ¡°So it¡¯s ¡ª fire and ice, ice and time, and lastly, Necromancy and Enchantment. Edwyn, you take care of fire and ice. I¡¯ll handle the Necromancy. Eme, do you have anything to handle time? If we could avoid wasting a haste potion, that¡¯d be great.¡±

    ¡°I think so,¡± Eme nodded quickly. ¡°Alacrity of Form makes you move faster, so it should work for the time element. And maybe a Song of Courage would work for the enchantment? Um, I¡¯ve never cast on an object before,¡± she said nervously, ¡°but I don¡¯t see why it wouldn¡¯t work.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the spirit.¡±

    ¡°Hopefully we aren¡¯t all spirits if it doesn¡¯t,¡± Pyre quipped.

    Eme laughed quietly as Autumn squinted at the retreating girl.

    While the others gathered behind Nelva¡¯s spell-mirror shield, the three spellcasters arrayed themselves before the three flames.

    Edwyn went first.

    With far more confidence than Autumn felt, the Runelord consigned two of their runes to the flames ¡ª one of fire, the other ice. In the brazier, the runes activated. Instantly, the low fire roared higher as bright blue and red flames swirled into a vibrant purple hue.

    Above them, the first lock brightened.

    Eme now joined Edwyn at the second flame.

    Nervously, she looked back at Autumn and drew strength from the reassuring grin the witch gave her. Into the flames, she cast her song alongside ice. Yellow flames licked at blue. In their swirling dance of timeless beauty, the flames steadily turned a deep shade of green.

    Now the second lock shone as brightly as the first.

    It was now Autumn¡¯s turn.

    She shared a fearless smile with Eme as they stood before the third flame. With a deep breath, she cast her necromantic might into the flames. The deep black fire whirled furiously within the brazier. Beside her, Eme sang her song of courage, a brilliant white to match the witch¡¯s darkness. As the colors coiled in the basin, Autumn feared she¡¯d overwhelmed Eme¡¯s spell as the black flames dominated.

    Yet, slowly, the song wore away at the darkness, turning it to gray.

    The stone portal above them resonated with a deep thrum as the last lock shone. Slowly, the shimmering ward dissipated, unveiling a new chamber beyond. One far smaller than which they stood in ¡ª only thirty by thirty feet across. Three other doors led out of the chamber to the north, east, and west.

    In the center of the small chamber sat a burnt out campfire, a tattered bedroll, and an old, discarded pack. From where she stood, Autumn saw someone had carved words into the floor. However, she couldn¡¯t read them from this angle.

    Glancing at Liddie, Autumn gestured to the opened, most likely trapped, entryway. ¡°Eldest first!¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Five: O Time, Hath Thee Offended Thou?

    Suthir was the god of time. So it shouldn¡¯t have come as much of a surprise as it did that his domain played a part in his altar.

    Autumn staggered as a wave of divine fatigue washed over both her and Liddie. Her knees buckled as aches announced themselves decades too early. Catching herself on the wall just beyond the threshold of the once warded door, she watched in horror as she and Liddie aged rapidly before her eyes.

    Wild crimson hair and dark locks bleached gray. Wrinkles and liver spots bloomed across their bodies like creeping rashes while crow¡¯s feet stamped themselves deep into the pair¡¯s temples. A weight unseen sought to bow their backs.

    Their attire and effects were likewise ravaged. Anything enchanted survived unscathed, but everything mundane aged alongside them.

    While Liddie¡¯s gear weathered the wave of divinity fairly intact on account of being reasonably new ¡ª made this century, at least ¡ª some of Autumn¡¯s did not. Her robes were ancient even when she found them. As such, the sudden aging finally finished them where dire adventuring had not.

    Autumn choked out a cry as her robes disintegrated off her body.

    They¡¯d been with her since day one. Through thick and thin. Losing them was a harsh blow.

    Thankfully, her witch hat survived the sudden chronomatic acceleration with only a few more cracks and tears thanks to the sheer weight of magic she¡¯d stuffed into it. Likewise, her newer clothes underneath her robes survived intact, sparing the others from an impromptu show.

    Autumn had only a moment to register her new age before hands pulled her hastily out of the room.

    As she passed through the doorway once more, the magical aging reversed itself just as fast as it¡¯d sprung upon her.

    The group likewise hauled Liddie promptly out.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Nethlia asked anxiously as she held onto Autumn.

    Dark of hair once more, the witch blinked in shock. ¡°Y-yeah, I¡¯m fine? I¡¯m fine,¡± she said more to reassure herself than as an answer. Licking her suddenly dry lips, Autumn continued. ¡°That felt¡­strange. Odd, but not painful. Well, beyond the sudden onset of aches I could¡¯ve done without.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine as well,¡± Liddie said, rolling her eyes. Her back let out a loud crack as she stretched. ¡°Owie, owie, owie! My back! Urgh, why do I suddenly want to take up crocheting?¡± She shivered.

    Nethlia ignored her. Turning to Edwyn, she spoke quickly. ¡°What was that? More divine bullshit?¡±

    ¡°Aye, looks like it,¡± Edwyn gruffed gruffly. ¡°I suppose we should¡¯ve expectit somethin¡¯ like this tae happen eventually.¡±

    ¡°Can we do anything to avoid it?¡±

    Edwyn shook their bearded head. ¡°Nothin¡¯ that I can see. We¡¯ll just have tae brave it, I think.¡±

    Nethlia let out a sigh of frustration. Pensively, she looked around the group, sending Autumn a look of deep concern marked by furrowed brows.

    Autumn tried to give the berserker a reassuring look back, but her smile might¡¯ve been shakier than she intended it to be.

    ¡°Any chance we could use that black water of yours to bypass this? Or just get a look at what lies ahead of us?¡± Nethlia asked.

    ¡°I could give it a shot.¡±

    Focusing, Autumn quietly muttered her dark ritual. As a drop of her blood fell upon the shadows beneath her feet, a will beyond her own slammed into her, forcefully shutting the connection.

    For the barest of moments, the attention of a god lay upon her ¡ª it found her wanting.

    Autumn supposed that was better than garnering one¡¯s interest.

    ¡°No dice,¡± Autumn said. ¡°Suthir didn¡¯t seem to like the idea of us bypassing his puzzle.¡±

    Nethlia grimaced. ¡°I was afraid of that. Thank you for trying anyway.¡± Turning her attention to the group as a whole, she addressed them. ¡°Should we head back or carry on?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve come this far, haven¡¯t we?¡± Pyre said. ¡°I think we should carry on till the end.¡±

    Liddie chuckled. ¡°Ah, the gambler¡¯s fallacy. Nice to see it runs deep in us adventurers too. Still, I think we should carry on. After all, the effects don¡¯t seem to be permanent.¡±

    ¡°Do the rest of you agree?¡± Nethlia asked. Upon getting nods and noise of affirmation back she steeled herself. ¡°Alright then. Make sure to brace yourself and help each other through the doorway. Liddie, I want that room checked, double checked, and triple checked for traps once we¡¯re through.¡±

    ¡°Got it, boss,¡± Liddie saluted.

    One by one, the party of adventurers braved the ravages of time and marched into the smaller room.

    Annoyingly, the others bore their new age with far more grace than Autumn had.

    She couldn¡¯t help but admire the silver adorning her girls as the pair marched into the small chamber like predators ¡ª straight-backed and alert.

    Nethlia looked no less dangerous with gray hair and a weathered warhammer than she did as a younger demoness. Thick muscles denied the trappings of age beneath her war-worn clothes. With hard eyes and a warrior¡¯s stride to her steps, she scanned the room for threats, taking in each of the exits warily.

    Eme bore herself far more proudly than Autumn expected. She didn¡¯t lose a single step as the chronomatic effect assailed her. With a hand resting calmly atop her dragonblade¡¯s hilt, she walked into the room with a timeless bardic grace to a tune only she could hear.

    What would you call a silver fox-like catgirl? A silver cat?

    Autumn shook her head ruefully and glanced over at the others.

    It was hard to tell if time had even bothered with Edwyn. Only a few streaks of white in their beard and a somehow even surlier demeanor signaled any changes to the grumpy Manus. They squinted at Autumn, daring her to comment on the state of their beard.

    Autumn wisely did not.

    Liddie and Nelva, while not as graceful as Eme, walked with far more dexterity and strength than Autumn did. The only one to share in the witch¡¯s plight was Pyre. The now elderly alchemist grumbled and complained just as much as Autumn about her aching knees and joints.

    Hobbling into the room, Autumn made her way over to the long abandoned campsite.

    The rest of the room was fairly unremarkable. With a square footage of only 900ft, there thankfully wasn¡¯t much of it to explore. Three other stone doors led out of the small chamber, aside from the entrance they¡¯d come through, one to each of the north, west, and eastern walls.

    Engravings of elves adorned each door. Either old or young. The doors to both the north and west bore upon them carvings of elders, while novitiates decorated the east.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Autumn groaned slightly as she took a knee to brush the decades and millennia of dust off of the words carved roughly into the sandstone floor. While timeworn, she could still tell they were of a different language to the hieroglyphics in the chambers before.

    ¡°Beware the doors. Beware time,¡± Autumn muttered as she picked out the only surviving words. She sighed. ¡°Real helpful.¡±

    Annoyed, she picked up the tattered pack and tipped its contents out onto the ground. Tattered apparel and ancient parchment spilled out. While the parchment instantly fragmented into a thousand pieces at the slightest of touches, Autumn found a small wrapped bundle amongst the clothes. Unraveling it revealed an intricate silver pendant inside.

    Autumn held the strange pendant up to the soft light of her lantern ring. A tarnished silver cage glittered dully as it coiled like a dragon around a large, cracked teardrop ruby.

    While it didn¡¯t shine with magic to her Witchsight, it also refused to be mended by her magic.

    She smelled more divine shenanigans at foot.

    ¡°Did you find something, Autumn?¡±

    Autumn jumped as Nelva spoke up from behind her. She glared up at the amused older knight, heart beating heavily in her chest as she hauled herself to her feet with another groan.

    ¡°Don¡¯t do that ¡ª I don¡¯t know if my heart can take it right now. Here lies Witch Autumn, eighteen years old and died of old age,¡± she huffed. ¡°Who¡¯d have thought it?¡±

    Nelva smiled. ¡°Those words say anything useful?¡±

    ¡°Barely. ¡®Beware the doors. Beware time,¡¯ was all I could get from it. The rest was far too worn to read. Suspicious, given that some murals are readable and they¡¯re just paint. Someone had carved these words into the ground.¡±

    ¡°Are you thinking divine interference?¡±

    Autumn shrugged. ¡°Possibly. Probably. I¡¯m guessing, and this is just a guess, Suthir might want those who come across this tomb to solve it themselves.¡±

    Nelva nodded, silver hair spilling over her eyes as she looked about the empty chamber. ¡°Make sense. The gods love to guide and shepard us, but not tell us what to do. Most of the time, at least. There have been some exceptions ¡ª divine visions, prophecies, and the like.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± Autumn asked, curiously. ¡°What were they about¡ª no, let¡¯s not get distracted.¡± She looked down at the words once more. ¡°You think our mystery thieves left this? The ones who stole the key from that mad Lich?¡±

    ¡°That seems highly likely. Unless this tomb sees much more visitation than we were led to believe.¡±

    Humming, Autumn rocked back on her heels. ¡°Where do you think we are? I mean, where was this tomb from before the Feywild gobbled it up? Is it even from the same continent? The same world?¡±

    The Lepus knight pondered the question. ¡°That is a tricky question to answer. In all honesty, I don¡¯t really know. Perhaps this empire of sand was located where the Echea Empire¡¯s southern border now rests. While I haven¡¯t been there myself, my tutors told me of a cold desert that might fit and it possesses a few elven tribes that might be this older empire¡¯s descendants. But you may be right, and it could be from farther afield than even that. As for it being from another world? Given Suthir¡¯s presence here, I find it unlikely.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Autumn said dubiously. ¡°We had some religions that worshiped animal-headed gods like him in my world¡¯s past. They had different names and looked different, but they might¡¯ve been the same ones.¡±

    Nelva sighed. Brushing her hair back, she favored Autumn with an exasperated look. ¡°Then I don¡¯t know either. And didn¡¯t you say you didn¡¯t want to be distracted?¡±

    Autumn had enough presence of mind to look sheepish.

    Looking around the room, she glanced at the doors. ¡°Any of them locked?¡± she asked.

    Nelva followed her gaze. ¡°Yes, the northern and western ones are, and they require strangely shaped keys. The eastern door is unlocked, but Nethlia wants us to figure out the room first.¡±

    Autumn blinked. ¡°Strangely shaped keys? Something like this?¡± She held up the tarnished silver pendant.

    Looking over the pendant, Nelva quirked an eyebrow. ¡°Exactly like that, in fact. I think that the northern door had a recess in the front that it¡¯d fit in.¡±

    ¡°Well? What are we waiting for?¡±

    Striding over to the northern door, Autumn swiftly found the recess Nelva was talking about. However, while the silver pendant fit inside it perfectly, the door still didn¡¯t unlock. The crack in the gemstone seemed to glare up at her.

    Withdrawing the pendant from the lock, Autumn went to check it against the western door.

    Predictably, it didn¡¯t fit.

    Curiously, flakes of dried clay clung to the edges of this door¡¯s lock. Autumn rubbed the dry substances through her fingers thoughtfully.

    A whistle caught her attention. Looking over to the source, she saw Nethlia waving the group over.

    ¡°What have you all got for me?¡± The berserker asked once they¡¯d gathered up once more.

    All eyes turned to Autumn.

    Blushing, she cleared her throat. ¡°Well, we know this puzzle has to do with time, right? In the pack I found a key to the northern door, but it didn¡¯t work because of a crack in it, and it resisted my repair spell. I¡¯m thinking we need to somehow de-age it or something. Likely, we¡¯ll age or de-age depending on which door we pass through.¡±

    ¡°How do you figure that?¡± Liddie asked.

    ¡°For one, we did so coming into this place, so it¡¯s not a great leap of logic that we¡¯ll do so going through more doors. And two, the engravings on the doors are fairly telling given what¡¯s already happened. Likely, the ones with older elves make us older and vice versa for the younger elves.¡±

    Eme raised her hand. ¡°What happens if we pass through another Elder door? Will we get even older?¡±

    ¡°Or die?¡± Pyre added.

    Autumn grimaced. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll not test it on ourselves,¡± Nethlia said firmly. ¡°Our non-magical gear suffered the same fate as us, so we can use something we won¡¯t miss first. Got it?¡±

    Getting noises of affirmation back, she nodded. ¡°Okay then. Liddie, have you checked the east door for traps yet?¡±

    ¡°Yes, boss!¡± Liddie saluted. ¡°It¡¯s all trapfree!¡±

    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s get it open. I want to see what¡¯s on the other side before we rush in.¡±

    Making their way over to the aforementioned door, they carefully cracked it open. Thankfully, it wasn¡¯t all that hard to open. With an audible grinding sound, the stone door split down the middle and swung inward, giving them a clear look at the next room beyond.

    It was as bare as the last and just as small. Only one other door led out of the chamber to the north, this one bearing older mages upon it.

    There was one major difference from the room before. In the center of the room stood a trio of zombies bedecked in degraded adventuring gear. While visibly identifiable as elves, or at least humanoid, their attire was relatively more modern than those elves adorning the murals.

    How they all died was clear ¡ª expended darts from the long since triggered traps that lined the room still riddled their decayed bodies.

    As one, they turned towards the sound of the door opening and let out a series of undead moans.

    Rot filled the air.

    Before Autumn could even raise her wand, Nethlia leapt through the portal with a roar. The berserker barely stumbled as her strength returned to her. Three powerful swings of iron saw the undead¡¯s brains splattered across the stones.

    Shaking her head, Autumn strode into the room behind Nethlia with the others, letting a sigh of relief as old age fled her and the resilience of youth filled her limbs and lungs, even if only for a moment.

    She left the others to loot the corpses for their meager amounts of silver coins and, not seeing much else to investigate in the room, made her way over to the northern door. There she met Liddie, and between them, they checked the door for traps. Not seeing any, they gently cracked it open to peek inside the next room.

    Another small chamber, identical in size to the last two, met their eyes.

    However, this one wasn¡¯t as empty. Smashed vases and statues of fired clay littered the floor like a carpet of artistic destruction. A clay statue of an elven man stood naked and tall upon a plinth in the center of the room. It was suspiciously intact, given the state of the room. It shone with magic before Autumn¡¯s Witchsight.

    ¡°See anything?¡± Nethlia asked from behind the pair.

    Autumn nodded. ¡°Yeah. Lots of smashed vases covering the floor and a magical statue in the middle of the floor. Could be a trap of some kind.¡±

    ¡°A statue?¡± Edwyn asked. Peering into the room, they grunted in annoyance. ¡°Ah, that be a clay golem. A lesser one, methinks.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡±

    Edwyn nodded. ¡°I¡¯m sure. We get ¡®em roamin¡¯ the undermountains back home. Mostly stone ones an¡¯ the like. But sometimes some eejit¡¯ll let a clay one loose accidentally or ¡®accidentally.¡¯¡±

    ¡°The difference being?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°One is a testament to stupidity, the other, politics.¡±

    Nethlia cleared her throat, trying to get the conversation back on track. ¡°They have any weaknesses?¡± she asked.

    ¡°Few, unfortunately,¡± Edwyn grumbled. ¡°Fire ¡®n¡¯ earthbreaker spells, mainly. They¡¯re typically resistant tae all else, an¡¯ immune tae anythin¡¯ non-magical. However, this one looks fairly old sae its core might be degradit enough that it lacks those protections. Can¡¯t rightly say either way.¡±

    Autumn grinned. ¡°Good thing we¡¯re packing a lot of fire then.¡±

    Nethlia held up a hand, stalling the witch. ¡°While that is true, don¡¯t forget we¡¯ll be fighting under the effects of the trial in there.¡± She pointed to the old elves engraved on the door. ¡°We won¡¯t be able to move as fast or as fluidly as we¡¯re used to. And that can be more dangerous than any strong enemy. A single strike might hurt us more than we expect.¡±

    Autumn grimaced. She¡¯d forgotten about that part, what with being back to her own age again.

    Hopefully, magic would equalize things.

    ¡°Alright,¡± Autumn said, ¡°here¡¯s the plan.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Six: Burn Baby Burn

    Intelligence was a gift that time could not diminish. Not completely. Not fully. Strength could wane, looks could vanish, hair could gray, but a mind unbound conquered all. There were no odds too impossible, challenges too difficult, tasks too great that a clever mind could not solve. That she could not solve.

    Even magically imbued, the sands of time couldn¡¯t wipe away a witch¡¯s cunning, no matter how much it tried.

    So she did not despair at the sight of the clay golem as it loomed before her in the center of the chamber, for the gray-haired witch had her mind still, had her cleverness, and had her magic. Even as age robbed the youthful vigor from her limbs, in her breast magic coiled tightly. On weathered, bitten lips, words of power awaited to be breathed into existence.

    The crack of shattered pottery breaking underfoot sounded through the chamber.

    Alerted, the golem swung its clay head in her direction silently.

    Autumn stared back, equally silent.

    She¡¯d seen her fair share of statues in her time. Here and back on Earth. Granted, they¡¯d not been of the moving kind, but she still felt cultured enough to admire it for what it was. It stood tall and beautifully sculpted like an elvish statue of David. Slim muscles and sharp features of elven masculinity lay bare, nude in soft clay.

    Perhaps once this figure depicted had been a famous elf or an artist themselves. Someone dedicated to the beauty of art.

    It almost made Autumn regret having to break it. Almost.

    From a lonesome plinth, the statue stepped. The ground shuddered beneath its weight. Despite its size, the golem moved with fluidity and grace, as if made from living flesh.

    It rounded on the witch, towering over her a mere fifteen feet away.

    Slowly, Autumn¡¯s fingers caressed her wand as the construct approached. Calm, it lay loose in her hand, held low and at the ready. Her heart beat in her chest. Resolute. Steel lined her spine. A breath deep, she took.

    Clay feet pounded the ground, growing ever closer.

    The chamber¡¯s trial demanded of her brains, not brawn, to overcome its challenge. Its entryway had warped her with age once more. Now only her clever mind would see her through danger. Would see the world dance to her tune. To be molded by whims most macabre.

    ¡°Hey, Disco Inferno!¡± she called.

    Despite not having a language verbose of its own, the construct still understood her. Her tone, if not the words. A glowering face shifted itself towards the sound of her voice.

    ¡°Burn.¡±

    And lo, a whispered word decreed itself onto the weave, plucking the threads to call the elements to heel.

    Rather than bathe the clay construct in fiery flames, Autumn urged the magic through a pounding headache to take on a tangential effect. She imposed her tyrannical will on the spellworking word and superheated the air surrounding the clay statue, baking it suddenly with tremendous heat.

    The golem staggered as she did too.

    A line of crimson dribbled down Autumn¡¯s chin. The pain was biting.

    As she gasped, a crack of breaking earthenware resounded throughout the chamber like a gunshot. The sudden and extreme heat had baked a thick outer layer of clay atop the golem, forcing it to move now with jerky, inflexible movements.

    But move still, it did.

    Bare fury radiated from its stoic mien.

    Thankfully, that wasn¡¯t the end to Autumn¡¯s plan.

    Clutching the bridge of her nose tight to stem her nosebleed, she stepped aside to let the others through the doorway. They charged towards the golem with runes in hand, primed and ready to discharge their payload onto and into the lumbering construct. Even as age took hold of them again, they lobbed the runes with pinpoint accuracy.

    Like a chain of firecrackers going off, the earth-breaker runes detonated across the clay golem¡¯s body with a series of ear-bursting roars.

    The construct didn¡¯t stand a chance.

    Autumn flinched as fragmented shards of baked clay pinged off her hastily raised shield and all across the room as the golem exploded from within and without. The others survived the ceramic detonation by ducking hurriedly behind either Nelva¡¯s mirror shield, Autumn, or other shattered and fallen statues.

    As the dust cleared, it revealed the sundered form of the golem.

    Gone was its elven form, reduced to a barely recognizable lump of clay. Headless and legless, it dragged itself doggedly towards the party with one good arm. Much to their alarm and consternation, the soft clay that made up the golem was rapidly reforming.

    ¡°Stop it before it fixes itself!¡± Nethlia bellowed.

    With mighty hammer in hand, she lay into the construct with a furious focus.

    Unfortunately, she found little purchase as her weapon bore no enchantment upon it and the golem was near immune to such a lack. The only damage she miraculously inflicted upon the construct came not from her might of iron, but from her indomitable strength that not even time could tame. Each of her blows that failed to bite just stoked her fury.

    Conversely, Eme¡¯s dragonblade found greater success as it sliced off great chunks of clay from the golem. The shining blade eventually exposed the hard, magical core hidden deep inside the construct¡¯s chest. And with a single swift strike, she clove the crystal it two.

    The golem stilled.

    Autumn sighed in relief as it died.

    Taking a wad of clean gauze from her belt, she stuffed it up her nose to stem the bleeding before staggering over to the now inert lump of clay. Gazing down on the sundered golem, she looked over the cloven crystal nestled within its butchered chest.

    According to Edwyn, their expert in such matters of arcane lore, golems were typically made by binding a spirit ¡ª usually, but not always ¡ª of the earth, into a core of shaped crystal. These cores would work like computers, allowing wizards and other enchanters to program the golem to accomplish certain tasks. Mainly guarding or menial work. And like computers, the constructs often encountered glitches and other logic cascades that resulted in them going ¡°wild.¡± This often resulted in the death of their crafters. Whether that was on purpose, or accidental was up for debate.

    While fascinating, Autumn¡¯s attention was mainly focused on the clay that made up the golem.

    An idea had been percolating in her brain. She¡¯d just remembered the lock before, the one on the western door of the first room, and how it¡¯d had flakes of dried clay in it. Perhaps whomever had come before them had fashioned a key out of stolen clay and used it to unlock the door? Autumn thought she might be able to do the same once she figured out a pattern to the doorways.

    Crouching down with a stifled groan as her knees ached, Autumn scooped up roughly a pound of clay into a small hempen bag she found lying around in her inventory.

    While she did so, the others looted the cloven crystal to add to their growing collection of junk.

    As Autumn stood back up, Nethlia stopped beside her, resting her polehammer on the ground to lean her weight onto it. She nodded to Autumn. ¡°Nice plan. It worked out better than I expected, but are you alright?¡±

    ¡°What, you didn¡¯t have faith in me?¡± Autumn joked, nasally. Blushing, she removed the wad of cloth and cleaned herself up as best she could before continuing. ¡°I¡¯m fine. Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±

    Nethlia smiled. However, it was tinged with frustration and self-recrimination.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Autumn asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s my hammer,¡± Nethlia sighed. ¡°Don¡¯t get me wrong, I love it, but we¡¯ve been running into a fair few creatures that are resistant to anything non-magical, and I haven¡¯t been¡­it¡¯s frustrating not being able to do much, is all.¡± She gave her weapon a long look. ¡°Unless I can find someone to enchant it, I need something better.¡±

    ¡°What about Edwyn? Is there nothing they can do?¡±

    Nethlia shook her head. ¡°Nothing permanent. They specialize in disposable enchantments, so unless I want my hammer to break after a single swing, I need something else. No matter how devastating that swing would be.¡±

    Quietly, Autumn contemplated the problem.

    They had some spare weapons Nethlia could use, namely the angel¡¯s halberd. However, they had no clue what the enchantment upon it was. For all they knew, it was as horribly cursed as the things they took from the necromancer¡¯s vault. Not even the punching gauntlets of bleeding that the berserker disdained would¡¯ve helped her as neither undead nor constructs could bleed.

    There was the option of witchcraft.

    Theoretically, Autumn could imbue a weapon with grim magic as she¡¯d done to make her wand and dagger. Practically though? She had little experience with such an art, and her only successful manifestation that could survive divested from herself required both a guide and a pre-made enchanting table. Both of which she currently lacked in regards to enchanting Nethlia¡¯s hammer. At least, not without blowing it up in her face or after only a few uses. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    Perhaps there was something in her lost tome? When she got it back, and she would get it back, she could have a look.

    ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t think I can help you,¡± Autumn said apologetically. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s something up ahead that might help us identify the stuff we¡¯ve already got?¡±

    Nethlia waved her off. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it ¡ª I was just complaining for the sake of it. I¡¯ll deal. You ready to move on?¡± she asked, straightening up and hefting her warhammer atop her shoulder.

    Autumn nodded.

    The pair picked their way through the shattered pottery towards the northern door. Upon approaching, a cursory look revealed young elves adorned it. A quick check of the door showed it to be locked and that the key they had didn¡¯t fit. The recess required a different gemstone ¡ª one seemingly attached to a necklace of some kind, judging by the shape of the recessed lock.

    With little else they could do here, they made their way over to the western door. Like the last, this one bore the likenesses of young novitiate elves as well. Luckily, it wasn¡¯t locked.

    Gently as they could, the adventurers cracked the stone door open.

    The perfume of death rushed out to meet them. Rot and decay. It soured their senses, drawing forth unbidden memories best left forgotten. Autumn gagged as the memory of slimy meat danced on her tongue, coaxing acid to fill her throat. Somehow, she managed to keep her gorge down.

    Pyre wasn¡¯t so lucky. She turned away to vomit off to the side, adding another layer of foul to the air.

    It galled Autumn slightly to know she¡¯d become inured to such scents.

    Focusing back on the gap, she peered into the room beyond, letting out a gasp at what she saw.

    ¡°Is that a dragon?¡± she whispered.

    In the soft light of her ring¡¯s light, a mound of silver scales glittered. Wings, wide and tattered, lay draped across the stone floor like a leathery carpet. The beast they connected to was just larger than a thoroughbred horse, although far more vicious-looking and scaled. It lay on its side, unmoving. Four legs ended in wickedly sharp claws while a whipcord tail emerged from the beast¡¯s spine. On the other end lay a long and lithe neck that sprouted a head full of horns and a snout full of sharp teeth.

    Even in death, it was majestic. In a primal sort of way.

    Autumn could see it wasn¡¯t berthing nor did the signs of life linger in her Witchsight. However, neither did she spot any undeathly presence about it. Whether that was because it wasn¡¯t undead or she just failed to spot such, she didn¡¯t know. She¡¯d be cautious all the same.

    Around the wyrmling¡¯s neck, a collar of iron bound thickly. Chains of iron too fastened the beast to the stony ground. Sores and bloodied wounds long decayed ringed the creature¡¯s neck proclaiming its long imprisonment, resulting in a myriad of broken scales and splatters of dried blood to litter the ground.

    Accompanying the dead creature lay broken, sundered bodies of burglars and fighters of old.

    A great battle had once occupied this chamber. Autumn was just glad they¡¯d missed this one out.

    Dusty arms and armors lay shattered all across the rust-painted chamber alongside equally broken bodies. A coldness warped the air, chilling bones and breath. The stones beneath lay cracked like ice in great swaths, as if caught in a cone of frosted breath, much like a reverse of her own fiery breath she¡¯d breathed before.

    For a moment, no one dared to break the silence.

    Edwyn ultimately did in the end, deciding to answer Autumn¡¯s question. ¡°I hope it ain¡¯t. Ifin the stories be true, even a whelpling would be tae much for us tae take on. Each o¡¯ ¡®em have a breath like yer spell-scroll did. Only, able tae use ¡®em multiple times.¡±

    Everyone shuddered at the thought.

    ¡°It¡¯s clearly dead, given the smell,¡± Liddie said. Her sleeve muffled her voice as she pressed it to her nose to ward off the stench in vain.

    Nelva likewise held a perfumed handkerchief to her nose as she spoke. ¡°So we might be facing an undead dragon instead?¡± she asked with a raised brow. ¡°I¡¯m liking our chances even less if that is the case.¡±

    Glancing trepidatiously back at the silver-scaled beast, Autumn asked a question that¡¯d been on her mind curiously. ¡°Uh, how long ago was it exactly that all the dragons got eaten?¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Nelva answered her, ¡°the surviving records differ on when exactly that was, but most agree it happened over four to five thousand years ago. Before the Inferni people arrived on this plane from the hells and during the reign of the Necromancers. Given that we saw the remains of ancient dragons in that putrid graveyard, I¡¯d say that timeline has some merit.¡±

    ¡°Or, they could¡¯ve just dug up some dragon carcasses later.¡±

    Liddie gasped dramatically. ¡°Necromancers robbing graves? The shock! What¡¯ll be next?! Fighters fighting? Thieves thieving? Clerics clericing?¡±

    Rolling her eyes, Autumn huffed. ¡°I¡¯m just saying. We know that dragon bodies don¡¯t decay, so they could¡¯ve dug them up later.¡± Autumn blinked, turning her eyes back to the rotting corpse. ¡°Dragons don¡¯t decay. Huh, I guess that answers that question.¡±

    Nelva nodded. ¡°That is true. Likely this is just another dragon-blooded beast like the Swamp Tyrant and Fairy-dragon we faced before, rather than a fledgling dragon, thankfully.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s hardly reassuring. You do remember how those encounters went, right?¡±

    ¡°I remember,¡± Nelva said grimly.

    The group briefly shared grimaces between them as they remembered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t hear a heartbeat for it,¡± Eme said, her twitching ears trained on the chamber before them. ¡°Are we totally, absolutely, positively sure it¡¯s not undead?¡±

    Autumn scratched her cheek in embarrassment. ¡°I think so? I can¡¯t see any magic coming off it, necromantic or otherwise. No signs of life either. But, I¡¯ve been wrong before. So just be careful?¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± Nethlia said, taking command once more. ¡°We¡¯ll treat it as if it¡¯s still alive or undead until we know either way. Nelva, I want you to intercept any breath weapons that come our way. The rest of you fan out once we¡¯re through the doorway ¡ª clumping up will just get us all killed. Any questions? No? Then let¡¯s go.¡±

    Having said all that needed saying, the party of adventures swiftly made their way through the door of youth and it returned them to their natural ages once more.

    The stench of decay only grew more potent the closer they got to the felled beast.

    Thankfully, the wyrmling was truly dead.

    As Autumn drew closer to the beast¡¯s head, she got a look at what¡¯d ultimately felled the mighty creature. From its long neck flowered a once lustrous blade, now naught but rust. A waterfall of blood had dried down its scales from whence the blade had stabbed to pool down onto the rust-painted stones below.

    While it¡¯d fallen, the wyrmling¡¯d had the last laugh in its death throes.

    The decayed body of the almost-a-dragon slayer lay crushed and still in the draconic beast¡¯s powerful jaws. One hand stretched towards the rusted blade that¡¯d spelled the wyrmling¡¯s doom.

    ¡°What foul luck,¡± Nelva said as she offered a prayer to the fallen.

    Liddie snorted as she stopped beside the noble knight. ¡°Their foul luck is our good fortune. All this loot and we didn¡¯t have to fight a dragon for it. You know, people would kill for this opportunity,¡± she laughed.

    Nelva sighed heavily, turning a baleful eye towards the pirate. ¡°Can¡¯t you have a little more respect for the dead?¡±

    ¡°Uh, no?¡±

    ¡°A little humility on your part wouldn¡¯t harm you, I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Liddie shrugged, grinning. ¡°It actually might. Don¡¯t you know pirates feel physical pain if they¡¯re nice? Kinda like vampires supposedly burn in sunlight.¡±

    ¡°Supposedly, is right,¡± Nelva said with a grimace.

    ¡°Now that¡¯s a story if I ever heard one! Share, princess!¡±

    ¡°I am not a princess!¡±

    Autumn rolled her eyes as the pair devolved into hushed bickering while they picked over the dead thieves for any loot that¡¯d survived the ravages of both the wyrmling and time.

    Stepping away, she made her way swiftly over to Nethlia, who stood a short distance away. The horrid smell didn¡¯t seem to bother the berserker as she looked over the rotten body of the winged beast. Autumn herself had to cover her nose with cloth just to stand next to her.

    For a silent moment, the pair just stood next to one another.

    ¡°You thinking of butchering it?¡± Autumn asked.

    Nethlia started. Drawing herself up, she sighed before nodding. ¡°Yeah. The meat and hide isn¡¯t any good, but I think we could get a good price for the scales and claws, even if it isn¡¯t a proper dragon.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget the bones. I could work with those, depending on how solid they are.¡±

    ¡°I won¡¯t forget. Speaking of which, could I borrow that butcher¡¯s blade?¡±

    ¡°Oh! Right!¡± Autumn jolted slightly at the reminder ¡ª she¡¯d almost forgotten entirely about the enchanted weapon. Fetching the Butcher¡¯s Cleaver from her belt, she handed it over to Nethlia. ¡°You can use it to fight, if you want ¡ª it is enchanted.¡±

    Nethlia took the rusty blade from Autumn gingerly. ¡°Hmm, it¡¯s an idea, but I¡¯m not too keen on the poison effects it has or its reach. It¡¯d be far too easy for me to cut myself in the heat of the moment.¡±

    ¡°Fair.¡±

    Looking over the butchering work laid out before her, Nethlia gestured to the far doors. ¡°How about you and Eme go check out the other doors while I work? See if they''re locked or something. And do try not to get in trouble.¡±

    Autumn pouted. ¡°What? Don¡¯t trust me?¡±

    Nethlia chuckled deeply. Reaching over, she patted Autumn¡¯s head teasingly, pushing her hat down further. ¡°It¡¯s not about trust, but experience ¡ª you have a habit of getting yourself into trouble when left to your own devices.¡±

    ¡°Since when?!¡±

    Nethlia raised an eyebrow as she gestured around herself.

    Blushing, Autumn tried to defend herself. ¡°Okay, this one wasn¡¯t my fault! That sandstorm came out of nowhere! And the goblin horde! And the Underdark! That slave revolt was an accident, I swear!¡±

    By now, Autumn¡¯s face was redder than Nethlia¡¯s skin. Still, the berserker said nothing. She just smiled.

    ¡°¡­I¡¯ll shut up now.¡±

    Autumn retreated with her dignity in tatters as the red-skinned menace chuckled quietly behind her. As she passed by a confused catgirl, she snatched up Eme¡¯s wrist and dragged her along to check out the other doors.

    The northern door lay broken in a pile of impassable rubble, sundered by ice and violence.

    Conversely, the western door was simply just locked. Trying the key they had, now unmarred by time, proved futile, as this door required a ring-shaped key to unlock it.

    Turning away, they looked to the south.

    If Autumn¡¯s geography was right ¡ª and it was, barring any spacial fuckery ¡ª the southern door ought to open up to the first room once unlocked. Youthful elves befell the witch¡¯s eyes from its stony surface. If they passed through this portal, it¡¯d mark the first time they¡¯d¡¯ve de-aged beyond their original ages.

    Autumn shuddered.

    How far back would it go? She wondered.

    She hardly wanted to relive her gangly teenage years, let alone her early childhood, in front of the others.

    Taking out the now unmarred gemstone once more, Autumn ran her thumb across it before placing it into the door¡¯s lock. It fit snuggly. So snuggly, in fact, that she couldn¡¯t remove it once it was in. The door¡¯s magical lock let out a dull thunk as it disengaged. With a ponderous grinding sound, it swung slowly open to reveal the first room and entrance as she¡¯d suspected.

    Autumn held the lump of clay she¡¯d taken in one hand as she eyed the doorway.

    Taking it from the other room had softened it somewhat. By that same metric, if she took it with her into the first room through this doorway, it ought to be soft enough to make a key from the other lock. And if she went back around the way they¡¯d come, it should, should, harden to the point of usability.

    That was the hope, at least.

    For all she knew, this was simply a waste of time.

    Heh. Waste of time. Autumn laughed quietly to herself.

    ¡°Are you going through?¡± Eme asked from beside Autumn. Her voice was suspiciously casual, although her glittering eyes betrayed her excitement. Clearly, she¡¯d come to the same conclusion as Autumn had regarding what would happen to her if she passed through the door of youth.

    Autumn blushed slightly in embarrassment. Huffing, she shrugged. ¡°No time like the present, right?¡±

    Taking a fortifying breath, she stepped through the doorway, letting the wave of chronomantic magic wash over her.

    Everything went dark as her hat slipped down over her eyes.

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Seven: A Date of Juvenescence, Clay Figurines, and Rust

    When people said they wished to feel young again, Autumn didn¡¯t imagine they meant it this literally.

    As she stepped through the doorway and back into the first room, Autumn¡¯s perspective shrunk rapidly. In a near instant, she lost several feet from her height as her body magically regressed back to her thirteen-year-old self. Disorientation claimed her vision, leaving her blinking dizzily in confusion as the room swam.

    Darkness claimed her vision.

    Startled by her hat¡¯s descent, Autumn jumped. She reached up with her heart a thundering and pushed her now oversized hat up and out of her eyes so that she could look about the room with newfound apprehension. Raven locks spooked her once more as they fluttered down her round, freckled face from their hatted confines.

    Everything was much bigger now. Much more frightening.

    It wasn¡¯t just the room that felt bigger all of a sudden. Her clothing hadn¡¯t shrunk with her.

    Autumn¡¯s jittery movements spilled her tunic further down her collarbone. Her body, bereft of adulthood, swam in the baggy clothing. Only her magical belt kept her from embarrassment, as it conveniently resized around her new, or perhaps old, waistline and kept her pants held firm. Honestly, she felt like she was playing dress-up in her mother¡¯s closet once more.

    Her chest tightened with memory. Tears pricked at her eyes, unwanted and uninvited.

    ¡°Stupid hormones,¡± Autumn muttered.

    The sound of muffled squealing from behind her had Autumn spinning around sharply with a blushing glare. She met eyes with an excitable Eme. ¡°Not a word,¡± Autumn growled. Or at least, she tried to ¡ª her voice came out far higher pitched and squeaky than she intended it to.

    ¡°So cute~¡± Eme breathed out.

    Red-faced, Autumn stamped her foot and crossed her arms. ¡°Am not!¡±

    Her face lit up even brighter when what she''d just done registered. Flames licked her cheeks as Eme giggled. Turing away, she huffed. ¡°S-shut up, y-you¡­you!¡±

    ¡°Sorry! Sorry!¡± Eme giggled, not sorry at all. ¡°You just look so cute, is all!¡±

    ¡°Do not,¡± Autumn muttered under her breath. Walking deeper into the room, she grumbled louder over her shoulder. ¡°Are you going to just keep laughing at me, or are you coming?¡±

    ¡°H-hey wait up! I¡¯m coming! I¡¯m coming!¡±

    A curious Autumn stopped and cast a glance back over her shoulder just in time to see the other girl pass through the doorway. Like what¡¯d happened with her, a wave of chronomagical force washed over the bard.

    Eme stumbled as her height suddenly changed. Wide wet eyes a little too big for her rounded face blinked in confusion and shock at the loss. Her button nose screwed up cutely as a pair of tiny ears twitched wildly atop a head of sable hair. Dark locks drifted down to her delicate chin, swaying softly as she glanced around.

    The catgirl started as her now baggy clothes slipped slightly with her movements. Hurriedly, she grabbed at her belt with her good hand before it could slip any further down her tiny frame. Her other arm of dragonbone hadn¡¯t shrunk with her and hung starkly mismatched on her other side. She could seemingly still control it fine, albeit with minor difficulty.

    A blush, beat-red, alighted upon the catgirl¡¯s face as she secured herself from further embarrassment with a subtle tightening of leather around her waist.

    Of years she now bore upon her, twelve was Autumn¡¯s guess.

    Said witch stood stunned across from the tiny catgirl. She felt drugged ¡ª a heady cocktail of teenage emotions whirled wildly in her mind.

    Eme met her guileless gaze with one of her own.

    Awkward shyness ignited the air.

    ¡°U-umm,¡± Eme spoke quietly, her voice shaky with a sudden onset of a nervousness she could not name. ¡°Sh-shouldn¡¯t we go and, um, look at that door now? Only if you want to, that is!¡±

    Autumn started as Eme¡¯s childish voice sounded in her ears like milk. ¡°Yesh¡ª¡± she bit her tongue. ¡°Um, yes. We should. Do you¡ª do you want to hold hands, or something?¡± she asked, red-faced.

    Eme blushed, but nodded enthusiastically.

    After juggling the softened clay into one hand, and after she¡¯d wiped her sweaty palm on her pants, Autumn held a hand out for Eme to take. The catgirl did so eagerly, practically teleporting over to Autumn¡¯s side to thread her own into Autumn¡¯s.

    Red-faced, they couldn¡¯t meet the other¡¯s eyes.

    A warmth kind radiated from their connected hands, soothing their wears and worries.

    Autumn pondered upon the strange bubbling of affection in her chest and the lightness buoying her steps as she made her way hand in hand with her g-girlfriend towards the western door. Was this hope that she now felt? A playfulness? Was it the gaiety of youth that expectation and adulthood had long since killed?

    Perhaps.

    It felt strange to be sure. Especially here.

    It wasn¡¯t like she¡¯d forgotten the horror that¡¯d befallen her on this long journey, but right now there was a spark of adventure to it. Here she was, a nobody girl from a nowhere town exploring a world untold but by myths and legends. She¡¯d entreated fairies and demons, fought angels and undead, delved deep into tombs and depths not seen by human eyes before.

    And she had a quest. Her. Autumn. Friendless, loner Autumn had a quest to slay evil and save the world.

    It was¡­amazing, and frightening at the same time.

    Perhaps it was the naivety of youth, but she felt like all would work out fine in the end.

    Autumn was startled from her ruminations by their arrival at the locked door. Looking down at her occupied hand, she coughed lightly.

    ¡°Uh, Eme, I kinda need my hand back.¡±

    Eme pouted. ¡°I don¡¯t wanna,¡± she whined, clutching tighter to Autumn¡¯s hand. The catgirl bard blushed a brilliant vermillion at her own actions, but still didn¡¯t forfeit the hand she¡¯d claimed.

    How anyone could blush that much, Autumn didn¡¯t know. Not that she was much better. Heat washed over her cheeks as her heart beat painfully at her girlfriend¡¯s possessively cute actions.

    Tugging at their connected hands, Autumn offered a compromise. ¡°We can h-hold hands again later, so how about for now you help me make this key, okay?¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°Okay~,¡± Eme whined. ¡°But remember, you promised!¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡±

    With her other hand finally freed, Autumn withdrew her wand from her sleeve and, with a wave, cleaned out the residual flakes of old clay from the lock. It was too bad that she didn''t know any knock-type spells to unlock the door. Not that she expected such to work when up against divine magic.

    After the lock was suitably spotless, she cut off a handful of clay from the pound¡¯s worth she¡¯d brought with her, handing the rest off to Eme while she worked.

    It took a bit of effort to work the soft clay into the lock and shape it into an impression of the key that¡¯d hopefully unlock it.

    Autumn didn¡¯t even know if her plan would work out as she intended it to. It was just a hunch, after all. One whose only evidence was of some flakes of dried clay that might, might, indicate that someone had tried what she was doing before, with no evidence of success. But what other options did she have? She¡¯d seen no other key in any of the other rooms and the door they¡¯d unlocked ate the gemstone key.

    If it didn¡¯t¡­well, they could always leave, as galling as that was.

    After carefully withdrawing the shaped clay key from the door, Autumn turned to Eme, ready to inform her she was done. However, before she could speak, the catgirl thrust a small clay figurine into her face.

    ¡°Look! Look! Look at what I made!¡± Eme said proudly. ¡°What do you think?¡±

    Autumn leant back to get a better look at the figurine.

    An artist, Eme was not. Her sculpture was quite ugly, even for something made in such a short time. It looked mostly like a squat humanoid, but even that was stretching the bounds of Autumn¡¯s imagination. She couldn¡¯t tell if the nubs on what passed for a head were supposed to be ears or horns.

    ¡°That¡¯s very cute,¡± Autumn praised.

    Eme beamed. ¡°It¡¯s Nethlia! See her horns and war-hammer!¡±

    Even when it was pointed out to her, Autumn couldn¡¯t see it. The war-hammer looked more like a deformed hand to her.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯ll love it. So, uh, how about we go back and show her? I¡¯ve finished up here.¡±

    ¡°Okay!¡± Eme chirped. ¡°B-but you have to h-hold my hand! You promised!¡±

    Autumn blushed once more at Eme¡¯s demands. Taking the other girl¡¯s hand in her own, she quickly marched over to the doorway that led back into the middle room where the others awaited their return, likely still butchering what they could from the rotting carcass of the dragon-like creature.

    ¡®Dragons!¡¯ Autumn gushed in her mind.

    As the pair crossed back over the threshold, time took a hold of them once more and swiftly returned them to their natural ages. Autumn stumbled again as her height changed.

    Eme let out a startled squeak as her tightened belt strained dangerously around her waist. Thankfully, she was able to loosen it before anything before. Either her or the belt.

    Shaking off the remnants of childish emotions, Autumn glanced down at the clay in her hand. It¡¯d hardened as they had. Not quite enough to risk use, but another door older would see it right.

    ¡°Ugh,¡± Eme whimpered as she massaged her waist. ¡°That was certainly strange. Not bad,¡± she reassured Autumn upon seeing a look of concern flash across the witch¡¯s features. ¡°Just¡­strange. I acted so stupid.¡±

    The catgirl looked like she wanted nothing more than to find a hole to curl up in and cry, never to come out again ¡ª she could barely look Autumn in the eye as she glared down at the ugly clay sculpture in her hand.

    Autumn could commiserate. Her own actions would forever haunt her.

    Eme¡¯s voice broke the witch from her spiral of introverted flagellation. ¡°Why did I think this stupid thing looked good?¡± she cried.

    ¡°It¡¯s not that bad,¡± Autumn tried.

    Eme shook her head with a self-deprecating laugh. ¡°It is. Thanks though. You know, for trying and for not telling me it was uglier than a swamp troll¡¯s mother when I was stupid. I might¡¯ve cried if you had.¡±

    ¡°Are you still going to show it to Nethlia?¡± Autumn teased.

    ¡°No,¡± Eme huffed. ¡°And don¡¯t you dare tell her!¡±

    ¡°Tell me what?¡±

    Autumn and Eme jumped as Nethlia''s voice interrupted them. Turning back to the room, they saw the amused demoness had somehow crept up on them while they were talking. Eme hid the figurine behind her back hurriedly, which elicited a raised eyebrow from the berserker.

    ¡°That, uhhh,¡± Eme trailed off, her eyes begging Autumn for help.

    ¡°We were just talking about the mental effect the door had on us?¡± Autumn said.

    Nethlia looked beyond them, gazing into the room behind the pair. ¡°Mental effects? Like what? Is it dangerous?¡±

    ¡°Potentially. The magic doesn¡¯t just make your body younger, but your mind too. My emotions were as messy as they were back then, unfortunately. I don¡¯t know about Eme, but I could still remember what I needed to do ¡ª it was just colored by a different perspective.¡±

    ¡°I just wanted to play and hold hands with Autumn,¡± Eme admitted with another blush.

    Nethlia snorted. ¡°I¡¯ll bear that in mind. How did your experiment go?¡± she asked Autumn.

    Autumn held the key up. ¡°Fairly well. I just need to take it around, then we¡¯ll see if it actually works. Here¡¯s hoping. Did anyone find another key?¡±

    ¡°No. And not for a lack of trying, either. We even searched the wyrmling¡¯s stomach on the off chance it swallowed something important or valuable. It was as unrewarding as it was unpleasant,¡± Nethlia said with a grimace, which the other two matched. ¡°Aside from that, we gathered up a few bits and pieces of junk from the bodies along with a few pounds of loose scales. I set some of the healthier bones aside for you. Only from the wyrmling, though. You, uh, didn¡¯t want the elven bones, right?¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°No, that¡¯s not¡­I don¡¯t think I¡¯m comfortable using bones from people.¡±

    At least, not yet.

    Nethlia looked marginally relieved. ¡°Alright, just checking. How much longer do you think you¡¯ll be? We¡¯re almost done here.¡±

    ¡°Not much longer. I just need to take the key around the way we came and check if it¡¯ll actually unlock the door. Here¡¯s hoping. I also want to see what¡¯ll happen to something that passes through an aging door twice in a row. Probably nothing good, but it¡¯ll be good to know for certain.¡±

    ¡°Alright, just be careful. I¡¯ll get the others ready to move. Mind lending me your belt so I can put the stuff away?¡±

    ¡°Sure thing,¡± Autumn said, unbuckling her belt of holding to hand over to Nethlia.

    As the demoness turned away, Autumn looked to Eme. ¡°You coming with? Or are you going to wait with the others?¡±

    ¡°And stay in this stench?¡± Eme joked, covering her sensitive nose with a hand. ¡°No thank you.¡±

    ¡°Want me to hold your hand again?¡±

    Eme blushed. ¡°I know you¡¯re just teasing me, but I¡¯d like that very much.¡±

    Smiling dumbly, Autumn took Eme¡¯s hand into her own and pulled the catgirl towards the clay room, taking the long way around to the first room. If the bard stopped to hide her ugly statue amongst the shattered pottery and statues, Autumn wouldn''t tattle. The only evidence of such an occurrence lay in her stifled giggles.

    As they re-entered the first room for the third time, twice now older than they ought to be, Autumn looked at the clay key clutched in her palm. Thankfully, it was as hard as stone.

    One fear eased, another to come.

    The western door loomed locked before them. Swallowing her nerves, Autumn approached and placed the hardened key into the awaiting lock. It clicked into place gently. To the north, the others watched on from the other room, ready for violence unexpected.

    Nothing seemed to happen.

    Autumn grit her teeth, snarling slightly as the door refused her tribute.

    ¡°Work, damnit!¡±

    Reaching out in annoyance, she pounded on the clay key, providing it with some gentle percussive persuasion. A dull thud resonated from the door as the key shifted slightly and aligned properly with the lock. Like the last, the mechanism stole the key as it unlocked. With a grinding sound of stone upon stone, the door swung slightly ajar, allowing the pair to glance into the room beyond.

    ¡°Huh, I guess that works,¡± Autumn said, as she massaged her hand.

    The room beyond was dark. Pitch black. And as she peered into the darkness, Autumn held her lantern light steadily aloft to banish the creeping gloom. Soft illumination washed over the chamber.

    Milky eyes and hollow sockets glinted wetly in the light.

    The room was dark. Pitch black.

    As she peered into that bleak nothingness, Autumn held her lantern light steadily aloft to banish back the creeping dread. Soft illumination washed over the chamber, revealing a room mirrored from the one across the way. But that was not all, for milky eyes and hollow sockets glinted wetly in her cast light.

    Amongst scattered dust and bones littering the floor, a quartet of undead stood idle. Sloughed flesh clung wretchedly to grim bones beneath armor rusted and dull. Tarnished blades hung loosely in ruined hands.

    Gurgled groans robbed the joy from the air.

    Of the four fallen and risen again, one looked stranger than most ¡ª it beheld an intelligence foul the others lacked. It ground a great claymore of rust through the stones below as it turned towards the sounds intruding into its domain of undeath.

    Hurriedly, Autumn dragged Eme away from the ajar door.

    The wight watched them go.

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Eight: A Great Blade of Rust

    Around her waist, the Nomad¡¯s belt cinched tight once more.

    The comfortable weight rested upon her hips as she stood within the wyrmling¡¯s death chamber. By now, the party had collected up and butchered a reasonable quantity of scales and bones from the decaying beast. The spoils dwelt now in the pouches that sat snuggly on Autumn¡¯s waistline. Not all of it, not by far, but enough to sell for good coin later or to be used by the group¡¯s witch-slash-necromancer as she willed.

    Besides butchering, the group had accomplished another task thanks to Autumn. Just before she came back around the long way, she stopped before the door leading to the north chamber. From here, she and her gear would¡¯ve aged twice if she passed through it. Deciding to find out for sure, she tossed a piece of leather through.

    It turned instantly to dust upon passing through the threshold.

    Needless to say, she and Eme decided not to pass through themselves now or any time soon.

    As she stood back with the others, a deep yawn escaped Autumn, spawned from the growing well of exhaustion within her plaguing her mind. Heavy were her thoughts, her eyes, her limbs. Reaching up with a leaden hand, she covered her yawning mouth as she shook.

    Beside and behind her, the rest of her party had gathered. They stowed their nervousness behind blades and armor. By one, they checked themselves over as they prepared themselves to pass through the door of youthfulness. To become themselves but other.

    ¡°You doing okay?¡±

    Nethlia¡¯s concerned voice startled Autumn from her weariness. Turning, she looked up at the tall demoness as she stopped to stand resolute beside her like a statue.

    ¡°Yeah,¡± Autumn mumbled through her yawn before gaining her breath. ¡°Just a little tired from all this walking and fighting. I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°If you¡¯re sure,¡± the demoness hummed. She glanced towards the door that¡¯d take them back to the first room and the undead beyond the next. ¡°If you want, we can take a break for a moment or two. The dead aren¡¯t going anywhere.¡±

    ¡°Nah, I¡¯ll be alright. But, thanks for the thought. I appreciate it. The sooner we get through this godforsaken ruin, the better.¡±

    Nethlia chuckled. ¡°Technically, it¡¯s not completely godsforsaken, you know? Suthir still has an eye on it, if only minorly.¡±

    With a huff, Autumn rolled her eyes. ¡°You know what I meant.¡±

    ¡°Sure, sure. I get you. Well, if you¡¯re absolutely sure you don¡¯t need a break, then you can lead us through.¡±

    Autumn took a deep breath as Nethlia gestured her forward. Her feet lead her through the doorway once more and into a younger her.

    Chronomagical forces washed over her frame just as quickly as it had last time, regressing her bodily back to a time she¡¯d much rather forget. Thankfully, as she was prepared for it this time, she didn¡¯t trip over her own two feet as her stride suddenly shortened beneath her. Nor did her now baggy clothing impede her.

    With heavy boots, she strode away from the door deeper into the chamber to give the others room to enter behind her.

    Eme was the next one through right on Autumn¡¯s heels. Like last time, she became a tiny, adorable teenage kitten, complete with twitchy little ears and glistening eyes too large for her head. She scurried over to Autumn, latching onto the witch¡¯s side to watch the others transform with her.

    After the catgirl came the demoness Nethlia.

    As she strode into the room, she stumbled slightly as her towering, seven-foot height vanished. Catching herself on the nearby wall, Nethlia looked down at herself with disturbed fascination as her strong, muscular physique likewise dwindled back to her adolescent strength. Well-earned muscles turned lean.

    The demoness¡¯ barbarian-like outfit of fur, bone, and leather swallowed her. Grabbing at them swiftly, she halted their abandonment of her body with grace. As she glanced towards Autumn, she ran a hand shyly through her messy locks of hair, frowning as she felt at the shortened lengths her horns had become. Or perhaps, returned to, would be more accurate.

    Funnily enough, they were still bigger than Liddie¡¯s.

    Annoyingly, Autumn noticed that Nethlia still towered over her by a head or so even as young teens. So too did her lithe muscles outstrip the witch¡¯s own.

    ¡°Freaky,¡± Nethlia breathed out as she regained her balance. While higher pitch than her usual timber, the demoness still possessed a smooth, roguish voice that shivered the spine.

    Not that Autumn would admit it.

    After adjusting her outfit enough so that it wouldn¡¯t fall, Nethlia made her way over to the pair of wallflowers that were Autumn and Eme.

    ¡°Hey,¡± she said in that damn easy voice of hers.

    Butterflied frolicked unkindly in Autumn¡¯s stomach as she heard it. Heat ignited across her face as she squeaked out a hello in kind. Riot drums beat within her chest at the sight of the demoness¡¯ smile.

    She¡¯d not felt this way since her first days in highschool.

    Autumn had not missed the feeling in the slightest.

    Thankfully, the arrival of the others drew attention away from her tongue-tied state and the trio turned to take in their new/old appearances.

    Nelva¡¯s mature features faded as the wave of magic washed over her, replacing it instead with a teenage tomboyishness Autumn hadn¡¯t expected. Proud eyes glittered above a gap-toothed smile and cheeks darkened by sun. Anticipating the regression of her form, the knight had removed most of her armor. Still, she practically swam in her padded gambeson, bone chestplate, and helm. For her lack of protection she gained a greater fluidity of form.

    With a smile, she tipped back her helm just in time to stumble as Liddie barged through proudly behind her.

    The group stared for a moment at the sight of her.

    Embarrassing as it was to say, the piratical demoness lost little other than some height upon passing through the doorway. Her twelve-year-old self beheld as many curves as her thirty-something-year-old body. Seeing the others¡¯ looks of sympathy, she puffed up her cheeks in a pout.

    ¡°Forget you all!¡±

    Behind her, Edwyn bellowed. ¡°Gan¡¯ way, twiggy!¡±

    Liddie yelped as the brawny Manus stormed through the door with Pyre in tow.

    As the oldest, the runemaster had the most to lose. The impressive beard, wound and weaved with runic beads, fled almost entirely from their face as they passed through the door, unveiling a square jaw upon a handsome face. Bright eyes that for once lacked their customary wrinkles still glared at each of them.

    Edwyn swore as they scrambled to catch the beads now bereft of their woven home.

    ¡°Whatcha lot lookin¡¯ at!¡± They grumbled. Autumn imagined being mostly beardless was more embarrassing for a dwarven-like race than if they¡¯d accidently disrobed themselves.

    Behind the swearing mass came a high-pitched giggle of shocked amusement.

    Glancing around the Manus¡¯ bulk, Autumn held back a squeal as she caught sight of Pyre. Being the youngest, she¡¯d regressed the most visibly into her early childhood. Baggy clothes clad a flaming-haired child of eight or nine. Nervously, the girl clutched at her very oversized satchel full of potions as she struggled to keep it out of the dust.

    ¡°Come here,¡± Autumn smiled at the little Pyre, holding out a hand for her to take.

    Blushing, the littlest alchemist did so.

    ¡°Everyone ok?¡± Nethlia asked. ¡°No issues?¡± Getting only positive responses back, she gestured to the door to the west. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go and deal with these undead, shall we? Nelva, I want you and Autumn to go through first. Keep the undead off us as long as you two can. We¡¯ll need some time to adjust to the changes.¡± This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Nelva snapped out a salute at the orders. ¡°Got it, captain!¡±

    Nethlia nodded back, her posture filled with a nervous confidence like that of a village hero taking up arms against marauding bandits for the first time. To Autumn¡¯s eye, she lacked the grim calculus of experience that usually hung around her like a shawl.

    Whether or not that was a good thing was yet to be seen.

    ¡°Everyone else, follow my lead. Try to take down the undead with force of arms and save as much magic and items as we can ¡ª we¡¯ve no idea how long this tomb will go on for.¡±

    Another chorus of affirmations met her. Even the childlike Pyre let out a cute squeak as she clutched at Autumn¡¯s hand. Reluctantly, Autumn passed her off to Edwyn to take care of as they made their way over to the door and undead beyond.

    Peering within, not much had changed since Autumn had last checked aside from the undead wandered a bit more lively than before.

    ¡°Go!¡± Nethlia ordered.

    Nelva was off like a shot. Pushing her way into the room, she held her mirror shield high, keeping it between her and the undead in anticipation of a blow or magical trap. Even as the wash of magic crashed over her, she barely stumbled.

    Autumn herself stuck close behind the knight, matching her step for step.

    Horrid wails greeted their entrance, torn from rotten throats to fill the air with a grim dirge like a dying song escaping their lungs. Shrieks of metal on stone joined the dour chorus as the living dead turned on the pair, their weapons of rust grinding against the floor. Pale, rheumy eyes glinted with madness in the lantern light.

    The wight, armed and armored in rust, raised its greatblade effortlessly at the intruders and unleashed a foul war cry that rattled the room.

    Taking up the call, the trio of zombies shambled towards the party with a crooked gait. They staggered out of the dark with spear and sword in putrid, slick hands. Weeping eyes and decayed lips dripped with insanity and death.

    Autumn raised her wand in the face of such horrors and unleashed a torrent of powerful magics. From behind Nelva¡¯s guard streaked out violet jinxes.

    A moment of reprieve, she gained them as the force of the blows sent the undead reeling.

    The wight hissed darkly at her violence. It stumbled little from her blow and lunged back at her with a speed beyond expectations. Its greatsword of rust rent the air with a scream as it sailed towards Autumn¡¯s face.

    A shriek of metal on glass filled the air as Nelva intercepted the blow. The force of it sent the knight to her knees with a surprised grunt.

    Over the shield, wet eyes bore hatefully into Autumn.

    ¡°Begone!¡± Autumn spoke harshly and sent the creature of death and decay reeling back with a gurgled cry.

    Not one to let such an unbalanced foe go unanswered, Nelva lunged up from her crouch with a viper strike. Iron sank into decayed flesh less than expected and almost stuck fast. A shield bash to the undead¡¯s snarling face saw it freed.

    A bull blast from a white wand knocked the undead back before it could recover. The magic whirled the wight away with a wheezed whine.

    Autumn glanced around the room now that she had a moment to breathe. There she saw the others had swifter luck in their dispatchment of the weaker undead. They fell to white-gold, hammer blows, and dragon blades. Gore slickened the bone-ash carpet beneath booted feet.

    Liddie caught a zombie quick with her cutlass, carving a swift line through its neck. The decayed head rolled off with a push, falling to the floor with a resonant thud. Another strike saw the body fall to lie still forevermore.

    A blade forged from a dragon¡¯s tooth lay another low while an omen hammered the last back into its decrepit grave.

    The scream of rust carving through the air wrenched Autumn¡¯s attention back to her fight. The wight swung its greatsword in a sweeping arc towards her and Nelva once more, snarling all the while.

    Like nails on a chalkboard, the blow screeched across the cracked mirror shield.

    The wight¡¯s strength belied its size. Nelva grunted with a muttered curse as she held her ground under the titanic force. Another sweeping blow sought to catch the edge of the shield and tear it aside, but the knight skill denied it so. Still, the mighty monster drove her back.

    Fortunately, they had a mighty monster of their own.

    Nethlia entered the fray with a furious roar. With a reckless swing, she thundered her hammer of war into the undead¡¯s side. The powerful blow cracked the air and sent the ash swirling. As it cleared, an astonished sight was unveiled. THe wight had caught Nethlia¡¯s strike upon the blade of rust ¡ª its sawblade edge biting the wooden haft of her polearm.

    From the wight¡¯s jaw, a wheezed laugh escaped like a dire hymn fleeing a pipe organ from some long deserted and desecrated church.

    The wight twisted its blade around Nethlia¡¯s weapon, seeking to gouge out her eye with the rusted point.

    Nethlia pushed the undead off, freeing herself from the bite. With another roar, she swung back at the creature, but it dodge out of the hammer¡¯s whistling path with far more grace than its form should allow.

    Again and again, the pair traded thunderous blows.

    From the side, Autumn watched on nervously as she and the others circled the fight like hounds after a fox. In taut hands, blades bayed for blood.

    A grimace stole over her features as a line of red appeared on the demoness¡¯ cheek. Nethlia hardly noticed.

    It was at times like this that Autumn regretted not learning how to disrupt or even destroy undead from her Necromancy spellbook instead of studying up on anatomy and biomancy. To be fair to herself, she hardly expected to run into many on their way to defeat the hag and her living army of goblins and crow-like beasts.

    Perhaps she ought to expect the unexpected, as the saying goes.

    For a time, Nethlia fought with a roaring fury like the burning sun. Her hammer blows sounded like thunder in the small chamber as she clashed with the undead¡¯s blade of rust. The dust and bones shook every time their symphony of violence met.

    Unending, was the wight stamina. Yet, no matter how much it struggled, how much it fought and frayed, it could not fell the berserker with all her rage. Could harm her more than a scratch.

    Could not kill her.

    Fate, it seemed, had other plans for the demoness. Ones that didn¡¯t include such a foul undead such as this.

    In the end, it took but a single distraction, a single moment of inattention on the undead¡¯s behalf, to draw the battle to a curtain close.

    The wight snapped its head towards Liddie with fury and blade in hand as the conflict drew closer to the pirate. And while she could easily step aside from its strike, the undead could not the one that came as retribution to its carelessness. Iron slammed into the side of its skull with a force grand. Bones powdered. Meat, rotten and sloughed, tore with a sickening squelch. Onwards the blow continued, tearing its way through the undead¡¯s decayed brains, pulping what was left in a near instant.

    Autumn turned away with her face green as the ruined body thudded heavily onto the dusty ground.

    A heavy boot made sure it rose never again.

    ¡°I think I¡¯m going to be sick,¡± Eme whimpered as she too turned away.

    Off to the side, Liddie spat. ¡°Tough fucker,¡± she growled as she prodded it with her foot.

    ¡°It was,¡± Nethlia said, nodding absentmindedly as she wiped down the head of her pole-hammer with a spare rag. ¡°Anyone hurt?¡±

    ¡°Just you,¡± Liddie gestured to the cut on the berserker¡¯s cheek. ¡°You ought to get that looked at. That blade was more rust than metal.¡±

    Nethlia grunted. ¡°Sure ¡ª I¡¯ll get Pyre to give me something. While I¡¯m doing that, I want the rest of you to look over the bodies for loot. See if you can¡¯t find another one of those keys around here somewhere while you¡¯re at it.¡±

    Autumn stifled a yawn as the adrenaline faded from her system. She was getting quite sick and tired of all the fighting. Unfortunately, she didn¡¯t see an end to it anytime soon.

    As the others picked over the loot, meager as it was, Autumn made her way over to the only other door out of the chamber.

    It lay broken ¡ª sundered into naught but rubble by the ancient earthquake that¡¯d shorn the trial of might in half. She couldn¡¯t even tell which of the elves, old or young, had once decorated the stone door.

    Turning away in frustration, she wandered around the battle-scarred chamber to aid the others in their scavenging.

    After a short while, a small haul was tucked away into her belt¡¯s pouches. A wealth of 50g in loose coins of gold and silver tumbled into their growing horde. Of the rusted weapons, they left them where they lay as the metal was far too tarnished to be of any value, even to the metal starved Echea Empire.

    Fortunately, while digging about in the dust and bones, they found another gemstone key, this taking the form of a ring. As she held it in her hands, Autumn matched it with the recess that lay within the western door of the wyrmling¡¯s room.

    Autumn sighed. She was getting as sick and tired of all the running around and backtracking in this maze as she was of the fighting.

    With the key in hand and nowhere else to look in the small chamber, the party retraced their steps back out of the western room and back towards the middle chamber, briefly becoming a group of adolescent adventurers as they passed through the first room. The experience was not one she relished enjoying again.

    Stood now before the locked door, Autumn gazed mournfully over the youthful depictions upon it. Reaching out, she placed the ring within the recess that matched it.

    A dull thud resounded from within the stone as it grudgingly accepted her tribute. The door unlocked, grinding ponderously open. Stone against stone.

    However, just as it was halfway open, the door stalled as it thudded against something beyond.

    Autumn heaved a weary sigh. ¡°What now?¡± she bemoaned.

    Holding her lantern light to the gap, she peered within the darksome gloom. Her eyes alighted upon stone ¡ª rubble crashed and crumbled. The chamber beyond lay in ruin. Only a small tunnel of fallen slabs precariously placed offered any hope forwards. It was barely big enough for her to squeeze through deeper into the darkness.

    ¡°We can find another way,¡± Nethlia offered. ¡°Perhaps your clay trick might work with another lock?¡±

    Reluctantly, Autumn shook her head. ¡°No, I doubt it¡¯d work twice. After all, it only worked the first time due to how the doors are arranged. Probably on purpose. This is the way forward.¡±

    Nethlia eyed the slim gap near the floor, far too small for her to fit, even if the door shrank her. ¡°It doesn¡¯t have to be you. I¡¯m sure one of the others could do it.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right ¡ª it doesn¡¯t have to be me, but I want to do it. Besides, I¡¯m not afraid of small spaces,¡± she lied with a grin. ¡°I''ll be in and out in no time. I just need to look for another key or some other way forward, right? How hard can that be?¡±

    The shadows snickered at her ignorance.

    Autumn sighed. ¡°Shit, I shouldn¡¯t have said that.¡±

 Chapter One Hundred and Thirty Nine: Surely This Belongs in a Museum

    The shadows roiled. Stretched and coiled. They reached out for Autumn, devouring her whole as she crawled through their gloom. Lantern light spilled from Autumn¡¯s outstretched hand like an anglerfish''s lure. It illuminated the tunnel of stone harshly, casting the sand and rocky walls in a stark glow.

    Autumn crawled through the dust and sand, hand over hand, in a search of the lost key. She hoped it was here. That a mountain of stone hadn¡¯t buried it. That it¡¯d lead her through the labyrinth of time to vaunted safety.

    Silence cut like a knife. It sliced through the membrane of thought, cutting its razor-edge along her mind. The skittering bite of paranoia and shadow-borne delusions gnawed at her mind like an animal. Was it just her imagination that birthed the writhing darkness? Or something more? Did something lurk in the shadows with her? Something that crawled? Devoured? Gnawed and bit?

    Naught spake in silence¡¯s wake. Only the breathing of a witch sounded in the dark. Harsh and rough, her struggles through the tight corridor echoed through the crumbling tunnel.

    Heartbeats resounded. Thunder in the deep. They boomed loud in her ears, in her throat, her mind, her soul. Rapid and frightful, like a rabbit. All around her, the cage of stone pressed. Heavy weight to press her mind beneath dread. Still, she continued deeper.

    Tighter, the walls crept. Far too close. Too suffocating.

    Autumn hadn¡¯t thought herself easily frightened by enclosed spaces. Claustrophobia had never soured her mind before now. In her grief and heartbreak, she¡¯d sought such spaces. Let the comfort of warm blankets and secluded nooks whisk her away from the world and all its torment, even for a moment. A gift of ignorance to drive away the hauntings of death. However, here proved her comfort false. For there was no soothing to be found in the rocky, dust and sand-filled passage.

    It was but a lure to the dread-beat in her heart.

    Her hat drank greedily.

    As her heart flooded her magical reserves with supple terror, Autumn calmed herself with shallow breaths, mindful of the dust cloying the air. It swirled in great handfuls every time she moved. Rocks scratched at her clothed skin as she delved. Light pale flooded the passage. Under its glow, her flesh twisted beneath her snowy skin.

    Revulsion surged at the sight. Autumn¡¯s throat soured, but she steeled herself, fighting through the nausea and twisting sensations with arguable success. It was not the first time. As soon as she¡¯d passed through the doorway into this collapsed chamber, magic broken and sundered had settled upon her body most foul. Outwardly, she appeared fine, and her mind lay unburdened, but beneath the surface, her guts twisted like writhing snakes.

    The sooner Autumn fled this place, the better.

    Hopefully, the magic left her as well.

    Autumn shook off the dreadful sensations as best she could, focusing back on her crawl. It felt like hours passed her by. The tunnel weaved through the fallen rock randomly. At some points, Autumn ended up having to squeeze herself through gaps just barely larger than herself, or take tight U-turns that left her facing back the way she¡¯d come, only to do so again in another direction. She felt rather disorientated. All the while, the stones pressed heavier and heavier on her mind.

    Sometimes, Autumn lamented her bravery. Or at least her selflessness. As she squeezed through the tight gaps that pinched her, she wondered if someone else, someone smaller than her, would¡¯ve been a better pick to traverse this claustrophobia. Maybe Pyre? Or Eme?

    The idea sat poorly in her gut. Of sending either into this place, potentially never to be seen again. Perhaps it was better that she braved it. For her anxiety, at the very least.

    Autumn breathed out a sigh; the things she did for friendship.

    Further into the tunnel, she traveled. And after great struggle, and much swearing, Autumn arrived near where she thought the center of the room lay. There, an obstacle barred her path ¡ª a great stone ponderously blocked her way like a cork in a wine bottle.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± Autumn swore. Her hot, ragged breath heated the air. Sweat dripped down her brow.

    Leaning forward, she pressed her face to the cold stone and put her eye to a gap between it and the tunnel¡¯s wall. Light from her ring spilled into the hollow beyond. Something within glinted. The key? Backing away from the blocking stone, Autumn peered at the obstruction.

    ¡°I hope it¡¯s not load-bearing or something.¡±

    A shiver rolled down her spine at the thought. Too bad her black water portal was out of action. It¡¯d make this so much easier.

    Autumn placed her hands upon the stone and buried her feet in the sand, catching the stone beneath with her leather boots. She heaved. Sweat poured down her back as she pushed upon the stone. Her shoulder found its way to the rock as she moved forward, pushing with great heaves.

    Inch by inch, the capstone moved.

    Small rocks tumbled loose as the rock moved to fall upon the witch¡¯s back. Despite the ache and discomfort, she continued pushing. Slowly but surely, the dark-eyed witch heaved the rock out of the tunnel and rolled it aside. Her arms shook. Her body gasped for stale air. As she regained herself, Autumn looked up and out into the hollow she found before her.

    She froze. Her heart leapt into her throat. Before her, inches from her face, sat a black scorpion. Its stinger¡¯d tail held high. Pincers snipped at the hot breaths that disturbed the cool sand before it.

    Autumn swallowed tightly, paling as the scorpion raised its tail higher. Lowly, she spoke.

    ¡°Go away, you blasted thing. Leave me alone.¡±

    It cared little for her words. Higher rose its venom sting.

    Dark eyes narrowed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t say I didn¡¯t warn you,¡± Autumn said quietly.

    With eyes locked upon the lone invertebrate, she drew from her well of magic. Like she¡¯d done once before to fend off the bite of a rainforest¡¯s insects, Autumn cloaked herself in a small veil of fear. Just enough to scare the tiny creature¡¯s tiny mind. It drew back instinctively as the shallow wave of terror washed over it. On spindly legs, it skittered away across the hidden dunes, disappearing deeper in the gloom.

    Autumn watched it go with a smirk. ¡°Heh, serves you right.¡± Looking back to the chamber, she let out a swear as her eyes fell upon a grinning skull that the scorpion had hidden from her sight. ¡°Motherfuck!¡±

    Thankfully, this one seemed to neither move nor talk.

    Placing a hand on her racing heart, Autumn glowered at the skull. ¡°Jerk. Scaring me like that. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.¡±

    It didn¡¯t reply. Ivory white, it rested in the sand.

    Autumn examined the skeleton in full. Fallen stones had crushed the tomb robber long ago, entombing it within this tomb within a tomb. Its lower half lay pinned beneath a section of the ceiling. Moldy leathers clad the skeletal frame. Atop its bare crown sat a hat, wide of brim like that of a cowboy¡¯s. A jacket, equally frayed and decayed, girded their empty ribcage. At their hip sat an old, weather-worn whip.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    The skeleton¡¯s arms were outstretched, reaching towards a broken, empty pillar before it. No. Not a pillar; an altar. In one hand, it held a bag of sand while the other clutched tightly around that which glimmered in the dark. A key. The key.

    Peering closer, Autumn saw it was a necklace. A silver chain and setting wound around a black gemstone; an onyx.

    The sight buoyed Autumn¡¯s mood. Hurriedly, she scrambled her way out of the tight tunnel and into the larger hollow. Her good mood quickly soured as the gritty grains of sand swiftly found their way into her mouth. She spat and cursed as she staggered to her feet, brushing the clinging grains from herself. She hated sand; it got everywhere.

    Rudely, the skeleton ignored her plight.

    Finishing her complaining, Autumn looked around the chamber she found herself with greater interest. It was rather grand, in a natural disaster kinda way. Rubble loomed overhead, compacted into a broken dome that looked rather unstable to Autumn¡¯s eye. Every so often, a loose stone of a stream of sand would fall from the ceiling down into the hollow. If she listened closely, she could hear the storm raging outside as it sent its tendrils of wind whistling through the cracks. Haunting wails from a world beyond.

    Once more, Autumn swallowed tightly. She cast her gaze away from the ceiling and glanced around the room, looking for any other passages out. There were none.

    A dead end.

    Autumn looked back to the behatted skeleton. She strode over gently, boots slipping in the sand. Upon reaching it, she knelt before the dead tomb robber and reached out for the silvery necklace glittering in her lantern light. The skeleton¡¯s bony fingers broke like dry kindling as she tore her prize free from its clutches.

    ¡°Sorry,¡± Autumn said with a wince. ¡°But I, and my friends, need this more than you.¡±

    Under the glow of her light, Autumn turned the key over in her fingers, admiring the onyx gemstone. Too bad she couldn¡¯t keep it; the necklace looked rather pretty. And expensive. As she sat on her heels, a sound began to build. Louder and louder, it grew, until it drowned out the wail of the wind.

    It sounded like thousands of chitinous legs scrambling against stone.

    Autumn tucked the key away in her pouch quickly as she spun around. Before her eyes, a tide of black poured out of the walls, spilling over the sand like oil, staining the canvas black. Sharp pincers snipped the air. Tails bedecked in curved stingers stabbed. While they were no larger than her foot, there had to be thousands, tens of thousands of them.

    The scorpion she¡¯d frightened away had returned. And it brought friends. A lot of friends.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯ve got to be kidding me!¡± Autumn cursed.

    Autumn scrambled back towards the tunnel, heart thundering in her chest. Her boots slipped through the sand and stones as she ran. From within the sheath hidden in her vambrace, she withdrew her ivory wand and brandished it towards the oncoming tide. Her own tide of violence lashed out towards them, cascading down the amassed lines. Skittering limbs and pinching pincers were torn asunder.

    Grand holes appeared amidst the black-army. But the arachnids reformed swiftly, closing the gaps. Through her hellish barrage, they pushed. Soldiers with bayonets in hand. The dread-swarm rushed, raging towards the intruder in their domain of lightlessness.

    Like a blot of ink spilled upon a page, the swarm stained the ground further.

    Autumn¡¯s heart continued to thunder in chest like a drum. A rhythm of dread. Haste filled her limbs as she crossed the sands, urging her on. Her boots slipped on the loose sand. Ahead of her, a cadre of scorpions rose from the sand to bar her path. A dozen so. Stingers flashed deadly through the air.

    A snarl feral appeared upon the witch¡¯s lips. After all she¡¯d been through, all she¡¯d endured, she¡¯d not be stopped by some bugs. Arachnids, whatever.

    Leveling her wand upon the black-clad menaces, she sent a series of forceful blasts their way, spattering their bodies across the rocks and sand. The stomp of her boots upon them was perhaps unnecessary, excessive even, but it felt good. Above her, the ceiling rumbled ominously in the wake of her spells, sending loose stones tumbling down.

    Autumn continued towards her tunnel. The footprints she left behind were quickly filled by the black-tide.

    Upon reaching the tunnel, Autumn spun around. She knew she¡¯d never fit through the tunnel with the horde hot on her heels. She needed to make herself some breathing room. Cinders danced upon her lips. A word. One not yet spoken coiled in her lungs.

    ¡°Burn!¡± Autumn yelled out.

    Pain; a dull ache. A familiar friend. Magic raced through her mind, her body, her soul.

    Bright sparks spilled forth from her, scattering across the carpet of writhing black. The front ranks of the arachnid army burned away in an instant, filling the air with the scent of cooking flesh and the sound of wailing pops like wet popcorn exploding.

    Autumn gagged. Bile souring her senses.

    Yet, for all the hell she unleashed upon them, the tide still came. They crawled over their burned kin, undaunted. Could they even feel the fear she radiated buried beneath their animalistic fury? Beneath their desire to sting and bite?

    On came the black tide.

    ¡°Burn!¡±

    Another word, another wave of cinders.

    Fire and pain.

    Heat filled the air. Every breath Autumn took felt like she¡¯d inhaled a sun. She glanced around frantically in the lull she¡¯d brought; she couldn¡¯t keep this up forever. Licking her crimson-stained lips, the sound of wailing wind drew her eyes high. Heat cracked the rocks above. Small stones continued to fall like heavy snow as the echo of combat shook them loose.

    An idea, terrible as it was ill-thought-out, flashed suddenly through Autumn¡¯s mind. Her eyes widened in incredulous disbelief, as if even she couldn¡¯t believe what she was about to do.

    Turning away from the oncoming horde of skittering black, Autumn raised her wand of bone high and screamed spells of force into existence. The violet light slammed into the ceiling like a giant¡¯s fist. The loosely held collection of broken masonry, rubble, and compacted sand that made up the domed ceiling shuddered. Cracked. Then fell.

    Autumn yelped and dived for the tunnel.

    The army of scorpions only had a moment of stark terror before a mountain of rock and sand crushed them.

    Hidden in her tunnel beneath her glowing spell-shield, Autumn¡¯s world became naught but dust and the roar of falling stone. She screamed. The lion¡¯s roar of a collapsing tomb drowned out her fright. Darkness threatened to consume her. Bleakness ate at her mind.

    Yet, in the darkness, light.

    Upon her finger, the Ferryman¡¯s ring shone brightly. It drove back the shades and shadows, sending them scurrying away from the hunched form of Autumn. They hissed and bayed, lost to their queen of dread once more.

    Before long, the thundering ceased. As too did the thundering of her heart. Autumn withdrew her tight fingers from her ears and listened to the haunting silence only broken by a lone shifting of rubble. Before her eyes lay a wall of collapsed stone beyond her glowing protections. Tonnes of rock pressed down on her, more literally this time.

    Autumn breathed a sigh of relief. One that turned to harsh coughing as dust filled her lungs.

    In the far distance, she could faintly hear concerned shouting muffled by the rock.

    ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± she coughed out, hoping the others heard her. ¡°I¡¯m okay!¡± she shouted louder. She regretted not weaving a mind worm ¡ª she still hated the name ¡ª into one of her friend¡¯s mind.

    A glance back the way she¡¯d come, towards the others, showed only collapsed rock there as well. Autumn sighed. With her shadow-walk/black-water-travel out of action ¡ª she¡¯d checked ¡ª all she could do was dig her way back through her half-remembered path. Thankfully, with her belt of holding at her disposal to stash away the smaller rocks, and her shield to hold the heaviest of them up, she slowly made her way back to the others. Albeit slowly.

    It felt like several hours had passed before Autumn emerged from the tunnel. The others had met her half-way, Edwyn having excavated and shored up what they could of the collapsed tunnel. Autumn pursed her lips. She should¡¯ve asked for a few of those runes.

    Rough hands startled her from her thoughts. Nethlia helped Autumn to her feet and led her out of the tunnel back into the central chamber that¡¯d housed the dead wyrmling. Thankfully, the sensation of her guts tying themselves into knots faded as she did.

    ¡°What was that?¡± Autumn asked, realizing Nethlia had asked her something while she was distracted.

    ¡°I asked if you were hurt,¡± Nethlia repeated herself. She patted Autumn down, brushing the stone dust off her as she searched the witch for injuries. Autumn bore her attention with tired grace. ¡°What happened in there? All we heard was the place suddenly collapsing. I thought the worst.¡±

    Autumn grimace, favoring Nethlia and the others with an apologetic smile. ¡°Sorry about that. There was a load of scorpions in there. I had to do something to escape.¡±

    ¡°By collapsing the room?¡± Nethlia asked, incredulously.

    ¡°There were a lot of them. And fire didn¡¯t cut it,¡± Autumn said. Stifling a yawn, she reached into her belt and withdrew the silver and onyx necklace. ¡°On the plus side, I found the key. I just hope we don¡¯t need to return that way.¡±

    The sound of the room collapsing further punctuated her statement. She winced.

    Nethlia chuckled, shaking her head in amusement now that she was sure Autumn was alright. ¡°Let¡¯s hope not. Do you know which door this one unlocks?¡±

    ¡°Yup. I think it goes to the clay room. The northern door. It had a necklace-shaped recess when I checked it.¡±

    ¡°Shall we then? And do try not to collapse the next room, please.¡±

    Autumn pouted.

 Chapter One Hundred and Forty: Fairground Ride

    A sigh of relief escaped Autumn as she stepped cautiously through another doorway of chronomagical twistings. Behind her, she left her agedness within the room of clay and broken art. Another chamber of gloom loomed before her, lit only by her party¡¯s various lanterns. She looked around. Tall walls burdened by script far too degraded to read greeted her.

    And another door.

    To the east, it rested, looming much larger than all the rest. Near double. Perhaps even triple, so large it was. It stretched all the way up to the ceiling and dominated the wall it adorned. Like all the others, it was decorated with intricate engravings. However, this time they were not of elves old or young, but of a monster sinister.

    Faceless. Many-limbed. Shadow and smoke. A giant of cloak and darkness wound its way around depictions of ancient ruins set atop sand painted the color of night. Armies large met the beast atop the black-dunes, for all the shade seemed to care. They looked so small, minuscule, as they cowered in its sharp shadow. War-clad and doomed.

    Autumn shivered.

    Skin prickling, she turned away from the sight to glance around the rest of the chamber.

    No other doors led out; a dead-end.

    The room looked empty. Mostly. Only a single dead body slumped against the far wall in a puddle of dried blood interrupted the isolation. Beside it rested a pair of items; a rusty dagger and a crimson-stained journal.

    To Autumn¡¯s eyes, there didn¡¯t seem to be any traps here, unlike the last rooms. Still, she awaited the all-clear from her more roguishly inclined and experienced compatriots before stepping any further.

    Once they¡¯d sufficiently swept the room for traps, not finding any, Autumn made her way over to the body while the others spread out to search for anything else hidden within. She stopped beside the body and knelt beside it, taking care to not stain her clothes with dried blood.

    Yellowed teeth grinned up at Autumn through lips pulled back.

    The body was male. Elven too, judging by the sharp features and pointed ears evident even through the taut, papery skin clinging to their bones. Moldy leathers and red-ruined linens clung loosely to the dead elf¡¯s body, cut open wide across the elf¡¯s stomach. The cut matched the profile of the rusty blade when Autumn gingerly checked it against the wound.

    Autumn grimaced quietly. Whomever this had been hadn¡¯t died quickly.

    A quick rifle through the decaying pouches on the elf¡¯s belt revealed little, aside from a handful of silver coins. Only a dozen or so. Autumn quickly pocketed those.

    Only one other item of interest remained unchecked; the book.

    Reaching over, she gingerly picked it up, shuddering slightly at the gritty feeling between her fingertips.

    The book was ruined. Almost completely. Blood had stuck the pages together where it¡¯d fallen and the words inside had mostly turned into a mess of unintelligible ink blots. Still, Autumn could pick out a few words here and there, even some complete sentences, as she carefully leafed through the red book.

    ¡°What¡¯d you find?¡± Nethlia asked curiously as she came up behind Autumn. ¡°A book?¡±

    Autumn nodded as she glanced over her shoulder at the demoness. ¡°From what I can make out, I think it¡¯s a journal. Most of the pages are stuck together, unfortunately.¡±

    ¡°Anything useful inside?¡±

    ¡°Give me a second to look,¡± Autumn said as she carefully paged through the book. After a moment, she found a section that she could understand and, more importantly, relevant to them. ¡°Aha! Listen to this. ¡®Ralo¡¯ - that¡¯s a name, I think - ¡®Ralo brought a map from a wandering trader today. Says it¡¯ll lead to an ancient tomb filled with treasure. Personally, I think he was scammed... A vote today... Halowyn is excited to be traveling once more after our break. She is smiling more; it lights up my soul. Why does she look at Ralo? He is scum. A fool. Not worthy of her affections.

    Flipping a few pages, Autumn jumped ahead. ¡°Hmm, this looks interesting. ¡®We found the tomb today, right where the map said it¡¯d be. Damn near buried. Still, we made our way inside after clearing what sand we could... Ralo was smug. I just want to punch his face in.¡¯ Blah, blah, blah, skipping. Aha! ¡®The traps almost got us... Balter was almost killed. Did Ralo care? No.¡¯

    Nethlia snorted. ¡°This writer seems to hold no little animosity towards this Ralo character.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it seems like it,¡± Autumn said. Flipping forward, she read out another section. ¡°¡®A mirror of undeath bars our path. Halowyn says she¡¯ll take care of it. I believe in her abilities... Inside rested a mad Necromancer. Ralo almost got us killed once more. He couldn¡¯t leave well enough alone. The Necromancer noticed the moment he stole some kind of key from him. We barely escaped with our lives.¡±

    ¡°Looks like we found our mystery thieves, huh?¡± Liddie said as she inspected the rusty blade, having approached the pair while Autumn was reading. She plucked it from the dried blood to lift the edges of the elf¡¯s apparel. ¡°I wonder where the last key is? I don¡¯t see it here.¡±

    Autumn hummed. ¡°That¡¯s true. Maybe there¡¯s something in here that¡¯ll tell us?¡±

    ¡°Maybe. Maybe not. Not like we have any other plans.¡±

    Looking back to the crimson book, Autumn continued reading, the words more grimly written further in. ¡°¡®We never should''ve come here. Traps got Tafir, Zin, and Salowyn. Balter turned to ash before my eyes. Even Halowyn is dead. My sweet Halowyn. Why does Ralo get to live while she dies?! He didn¡¯t even care when that undead cut her down! Damn him! I¡¯ll kill him!¡¯¡±

    Liddie snorted. ¡°How dramatic. Which one do you think this is? Ralo or the writer?¡± she asked, gesturing to the body before them.

    ¡°The writer. See here. ¡®Ralo stabbed me, the bastard. He stole the map from me and fled with the key into the room of black sand. I don¡¯t know what lies within, but I hope it kills the traitor. We were tricked. It was not wealth he desired, but that hells-damned key. I hope he chokes on it.¡¯¡± Autumn looked up from the book as she trailed off. ¡°It ends here.¡±

    Nethlia looked toward the towering door to their east. Sandstone made, it loomed over them ¡ª a grim portent decorating its face.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Looks like we need to head in then,¡± she said, clutching her hammer tight. While gesturing to the others to gather, she nodded towards the monster on the door. ¡°Anybody recognize this shade?¡±

    Only shakes of the head were her answer.

    ¡°No matter. Let¡¯s take it as we go. Does anyone see a way to open it? We don¡¯t need another gem key, do we?¡±

    Standing up, Autumn tucked the bloodied book away into her larger pouch upon her belt before looking over at the looming door. As she approached it, she glanced over it to see if it had any such recesses or wells that the others sported. She had no such luck in finding any. However, what she did find were a set of crimson handprints pressed onto the sandstone.

    Perhaps they just needed to push? Or maybe this Ralo guy knew how to open this door?

    Autumn didn¡¯t have any other idea on how to open it either way. Approaching the marks, she reached out and placed her hands against the door. As soon as her palms touched the cool surface, a jolt raced up her arm. She tried to wrench her hands away but found them stuck fast. Within her, her magic surged at the probing intrusion and rushed to meet it.

    The shock latched onto her magic and withdrew into the door. And like a flood, her magic followed.

    Beyond Autumn¡¯s palms, the cool stone began to heat, slowly at first, but soon reached a scorching temperature. It felt like she¡¯d plunged her hands into molten metal or foolishly held her hands to lava.

    Sweat steamed from her brow.

    Her grinding teeth squeaked against a held scream.

    Fire within. Fire without.

    Time seemed to stretch into infinity in the igneous moment.

    Finally, the door had its fill. It let Autumn go as a deep rumble echoed through the room. Slowly, the door ground open.

    Autumn staggered back from the door into a set of awaiting arms of red. The pain faded as she lay in Nethlia¡¯s arms. When her mind returned from its white-hot agony, she looked down at her hands, expecting to see blackened, blistering skin. She was surprised to see nothing of the sort - only pale, unblemished skin greeted her eyes.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Nethlia asked, naked concern in her voice.

    ¡°I-,¡± Autumn coughed out. Clearing her throat, she spoke once more. ¡°I¡¯m fine, surprisingly. That hurt like a bitch. Got the door open, at least.¡± She smiled hesitantly.

    True to her word, the door ground loudly open before them, filling the chamber with resonate sound. There was only darkness beyond the parting doors. A void. Reality laid bare and woven into a veil that drifted and swayed in an unseen, unfelt breeze. Silence emerged from the darkness, devouring the room and sent shivers rolling up the party¡¯s spines.

    The dark-portal was as horrible to gaze upon as it was unfathomable.

    Pyre broke the heavy silence with a whisper. ¡°We aren¡¯t going through that, are we?¡±

    Autumn jumped slightly at the gunshot sound of her words. She looked over her shoulder at the younger girl. ¡°It¡¯s not like we have much of a choice. We need to get the key. And unless one of the other locked doors back there leads to the pharaoh¡¯s final resting place, I think this is the way there too.¡±

    ¡°Have heart!¡± Liddie barked playfully as she slung her arm around Pyre¡¯s shoulders, much to the girl¡¯s displeasure. ¡°We¡¯ve survived everything this tomb has thrown at us so far!¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you get almost bitten in half by a mimic?¡±

    ¡°Details!¡±

    Autumn ignored the rest of the pair¡¯s bickering as she further examined the woven gloom. This way leads to madness, it seemed to say.

    Behind her, Nethlia spoke as she too examined the way. ¡°Think this¡¯ll lead us into another realm or something?¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Autumn answered. ¡°Maybe not. It¡¯s not like we noticed when we fell into the Feydark. I doubt it¡¯ll straight up kill us though.¡±

    ¡°You know that for a fact?¡±

    Autumn shrugged, running her finger over the ferryman¡¯s ring she wore. ¡°Just a feeling. Still, I doubt it¡¯ll be a pleasant experience.¡± Turning her eyes to the rest of the party, she spoke up a little louder. ¡°Anyone having second thoughts?¡± she joked.

    Liddie snorted. ¡°A little late for that. Hells with it. I¡¯ll step into the creepy portal with ya!¡±

    Everyone else nodded at her statement. Some more enthusiastically than others.

    ¡°Well, see you on the other side then,¡± Autumn said.

    Turning, she stepped through the darksome door and into the veil beyond. The others swiftly followed.

    Nausea laid claim to her mind as she fell, feet swept out from beneath her. Nothing was as it should be. Up was down. In was out. Left became right and right became wrong. The air crawled and twisted like soup. Down, down, and down she fell. Or was it up? Tumbling. Turning. Coiling. Things unseen appeared before her eyes, only to vanish almost as quickly as they came. Realms of death and decay. Hellfire and ice. And blood, oh, so much blood. Lakes of it.

    Purple. Autumn could taste the color purple.

    Her lungs screamed for air that wasn¡¯t. Her eyes yearned for light that never was. She twisted, gasped, clawed, and bit as she fell.

    Forever.

    And never.

    ...

    ¡­

    ¡­

    She wanted off this fairground ride.

    Fortunately, the darksome veil soon granted her wish as it spat her stumbling free into a new and even stranger place than whence she¡¯d been. Gone were the tomb¡¯s beige sandstone walls, floors, and ceiling, replaced instead by an endless sea of black dunes rolling evermore beneath an equally sable sky. Bygone castles of ancient peoples and places littered the horizon, walls burdened by the heavy surf piled up against them, driven there by howling winds.

    Autumn could barely hear herself think amongst the squall as she stood atop a high dune.

    As she glanced around, eyes shielded from the harsh sands blasting her, Autumn noticed another thing other worldly about this place. There was no sun, nor moon, nor stars lighting the sky, yet she could still see. An omni-present grayness illuminated the world dull. Her own lantern light, pale as it was, shone in the gloam like a lighthouse.

    A sudden popping sound erupted behind her, like air escaping a tire in an instant. She had only a moment to notice it before near 300 pounds of demonic muscle crashed into her, sending both her and a newly arrived Nethlia tumbling uncontrollably down the high dune they¡¯d appeared upon.

    Autumn¡¯s yelp of fright was quickly cut off as she ate a large helping of sand on her way down.

    When the pair finally came to a stop at the base, Autumn sent a baleful glare Nethlia¡¯s way as she dug herself out of the black sand. Nethlia sent an apologetic smile her way.

    ¡°Sorry!¡±

    Autumn chose to forgive her, magnanimously.

    Another popping sound erupted above as another member of their party exited the veil, swiftly followed by the rest one by one. Soon, they slid down the dune after the already descended pair and gathered with them in the shelter of the dune. Above them, the winds howled furiously.

    ¡°What now!¡± Liddie asked, yelling to be heard over the noise.

    ¡°We need to find our missing tomb robber! Hopefully, they¡¯ll have the key with them! After that, we need to find the exit to this place!¡±

    ¡°How do you know there is one?!¡± Pyre asked. ¡°For all we know, we¡¯re trapped here!¡±

    Autumn shook her head. ¡°I don¡¯t think so! While difficult, there hasn¡¯t been an impossible challenge within the tomb so far! This¡¯ll just be the same!¡±

    ¡°If you say so!¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter!¡± Nethlia bellowed, her voice a war-horn. Eyes turned to her instinctively. ¡°We¡¯re here now, so we¡¯ll deal with it! We¡¯ll make for the closest castle we saw coming in! Our lost friend likely had the same idea! Keep your eyes out for that monster while we walk! The one that was on the door! If we¡¯re lucky, we might avoid its notice entirely!¡±

    Liddie snorted. ¡°Knowing our luck?!¡±

    Nethlia acknowledged her point with a grim nod.

    Bundling up the best they could, the party set off towards the castles in the distance, boots slipping in the sand as the winds battered their bodies with waves upon waves of sand.

    High in the dark sky, unseen by those on the ground, a giant shadow moved.