ã€ŠThe 66 Traitors of Ashera Thorneã€‹


 Chapter 1 Betrayed, For Your Own Good

    Souls absorbed: 0

    Ashera Thorne¡¯s remaining eye widened at the sight of her husband, Tristan, lifting a beam to form a cross with the statue meant for their god. Lorelai --the woman Ashera often called her soul sister¨C handed Tristan a foot long nail. Without a second thoughtHe hammered the spike into the beam each blow rang in their ears, like the final toll of a bell, condemning Ashera.

    I was faithful! Why are you doing this? Stop it! Ashera thought, wanting to scream at him. Her broken mouth refused her commands, choking her words with red phlegm.

    Tears blurred her vision, knowing it was hopeless. The statue that represented everything they had built ¨Ca magnificent piece of art that had taken months of sculpting¨C would be the death of her. It was carved in her likeness, a tribute meant to honor their mayor, now defaced into a mockery of everything it once meant. Its beauty twisted into a cruciform of her death.

    No, they want more than just my death, they want to erase any trace of me. Tristan stood silent. A grimace of approval scrawled over his face, satisfied with his work. How can he be so calm? Tristan, my love, put an end to this madness, save me!

    Lorelai returned, appearing beside Tristan ¨Cstanding closer to Ashera¡¯s husband than was proper¨C with a dozen iron spikes. Each of the rusty nails were as long as Ashera¡¯s forearm, too large for any rational work.

    They must have been purposely forged for this sole task, rusty with age... How long ago had those been forged? No¨C

    ¨Chow long had Lorelai been planning for this day?

    Ashera could not believe what her solitary eye told her, she had given them everything, her trust, her love, all that she was, even her body. Why was her family turning on her after they had come so far?

    Ashera shivered, gagging and heaving a wad of bloody spit onto the dirt. Her tongue was torn, silenced. Tristan had discarded her; and the mob around him would soon execute her in the style of the Keresh Reavers. Dammit all, this was wrong! They owed their lives to her, without Ashera they would all be slaves or worse! If they were going to kill her why torture her first? No matter what she had done, she at least deserved their mercy. Why couldn¡¯t they just behead her like the Inquisition? How did it come to this? When had she lost their trust? Her life flashed before her eyes, memories inundating her mind as she sought the answer¡­

    ¨CTwo days earlier¨C

    Ashera Thorne leaned against the wall of skulls that comprised their storage shed -just another quirk of life in Ellin Forest- where wood grew like stone, tough, unyielding; and human bones were more plentiful than fallen branches. The baby inside her womb twisted, kicking as it spun inside her, one foot connected with her pelvis, the second foot landing squarely on her spine. Unsteadied by the first blow Ashera crumpled under the one two combo barrage, falling to her knees, legs giving out beneath her. Pain clouded her heart.

    ¡°Oof. Damnit! You- You squirrel! Settle down or I¡¯ll- I¡¯ll- have someone yank you out of me!¡±

    Ashera lowered her face, wincing as the words left her mouth. Her baby couldn¡¯t hear them, so there was no real harm, but still she found herself regretting them. She placed a hand over her bulging stomach.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I didn¡¯t- it¡¯s just, I- mmm.¡± Muttered Ashera, covering her face with one hand to collect her thoughts.

    Eleven months of pregnancy was making her manic, ¨Calong with the insanity of Ellin¡¯s blight¨C she should have passed this ordeal two months ago, but the baby was proving as stubborn as his father. No matter, the summer solstice was in two days. Whether the extra months were somehow another cursed aspect of life in Ellin or something unique to Ashera, her patron god Loki would have the solution. No matter the problem, Loki always had the answer.

    Even if he was sometimes full of shit.

    When the Hellgate opened Loki knew the blight would keep Ellin Forest free of demons, when the Capital and inner realms were raped by Hellfire Loki whispered to her core how to find water, when her parents were drawn and quartered to test a new weave of rope Loki had become her mentor, guiding her to the men and women who became her family.

    Despite her tingling spine and aching legs Ashera smiled. Her left hand wandered to her overripe stomach, stroking it as if the infant within could feel her touch.

    ¡°Aleyander, I¡¯ll love you no matter how many times you kick me. But I¡¯d really appreciate it if you didn¡¯t knock me off my feet. Cmon, let¡¯s get ready to throw a welcome party fit for grandpa Loki. Save your kicks for him.¡±

    Fuzzy skulls met Ashera¡¯s fingers ¨Cdemonic mutations warping the bones with skeletal ridges and ripples¨C excellent traction for a pregnant woman to lift herself by. She made her way inside the boney shed, waddling past the rows of spears and arrows on unsteady legs to reach the ceramic vessels that contained the village¡¯s shampoo. Sparing a second to glance backwards she checked to make sure she was alone, after all, mischief caught was mischief prevented-

    -And mischief prevented dishonored Loki.

    She slipped a wad of pulverized blueberries into each of the shampoo vessels, sporadically skipping vessels to ensure maximum mischief. None of the dark haired Othinaoin residents would notice the sabotage, but the few blondes would soon find their hair stained blue. It would take days -maybe even weeks- for the blueberries to fully leech into the shampoo. Establishing a trickle of mischief to feed Loki. Ashera chuckled as she slipped some of the blueberry mash into her own shampoo, sharing the mischief with her future self. Loki was a god of mockery; not malice, she would dishonor him if she did not accept her own pranks.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Asked a voice from the doorway.

    ¡°Eeep!¡± Squeaked Ashera.

    Caught blue handed, she straightened her back, trying to keep her blue stained hand concealed. A long-legged woman stood in the doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, her light brown hair tied in a braid.

    Thank Loki! It¡¯s long legged Lorelai. Hmm, she might look good with blue hair. Thought Ashera.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you know it¡¯s rude to scare pregnant women? We¡¯re fragile.¡±

    ¡°Fragile like a watermelon.¡± Teased Lorelai, catching sight of Ashera¡¯s blue hand she rolled her eyes. ¡°Vesper cried the last time you dyed her hair blue.¡± The edges of her lips twisting downward.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be a worrywort. She was only upset because she was alone. This time, we¡¯ll do it first.¡± Said Ashera, dropping her remaining blueberries into a shampoo jar and shaking it with her hand.

    Blue juice began to leech into the liquid shampoo, coloring the fluid a darkly midnight. Ashera¡¯s lips stretched tightly over her teeth, a sign that Lorelai recognized as incoming trouble from past buffoonery.

    ¡°Hey, wait a second. Don¡¯t drag me into-¡± Began Lorelai.

    She spun, ducking behind the skull lined doorway to avoid the half-golden half-blue shampoo shower. Isolated in Ellin forest they had to manufacture their own shampoo, resulting in a pungent fluid whose scent refused to be snuffed out in a day. Curses bust from Lorelai¡¯s lips, with enough vulgarity to make a slave trader blush.

    ¡°You pregnant troll! This will take all day to wash- oh.¡±

    Ashera leaned against the wall for support, wailing with laughter at her successful illusion. Lorelai¡¯s face appeared around the corner, lips pursed and eyes hooded in a disapproving glare. Ashera waved the still full bottle of homemade shampoo, setting it down alongside the others.

    ¡°Gotcha.¡± She teased.

    That was the final straw, Lorelai cracked. Her face broke into a smile and a giggle escaped her open lips.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Only a pregnant troll would trick me with piss shampoo in a shed of demon skulls. Wait, you used magic, aren¡¯t you concerned about-¡±

    ¡°The baby?¡± Injected Ashera. ¡°Aleyander is fine, the blackwood blight is better than a suppression collar for dampening magic. Ooofff.¡± Began Ashera, sighing loudly. ¡°I may have overdone it. That twinkling illusion cost me a week¡¯s worth of mana. Even inside this bone shielded shed the blight still leeches my spells.¡±

    At least, that¡¯s what I tell myself to justify these creepy ass bones. Sometimes I wish we never came to Ellin, or that we lived closer to the edge and could bring real wood into town.

    Ashera channeled mana through herself, checking on her reserves, mana was measured in time units, seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, etc, all roughly corresponding to how long it took the most common level of magi to generate the mana. Outside of Ellin forest, Ashera ¨Ca highly uncommon magi¨C generated a week of mana each day, within Ellin forest, she was lucky to get a few hours each day. Flavorless scraps of lukewarm healing for the village to subsist on. Though with each of the blighted trees they felled, her power grew. A few more acres cleared and her power would return, just a few more months, or a year at the latest.

    ¡°Tis bad luck to name a babe before they are born. The god of luck may be your patron, but you should slow down and stop courting misfortune like a virginal succubus.¡±

    ¡°A virginal succubus? Are you trying to flatter my fat ass? Cause it¡¯s working.¡± Snorted Ashera, rubbing her baby bump.

    Lorelai laughed with her and the women interlaced their arms. Ashera leaning on her bosom bestie as she waddled through their clandestine town. A secret kept so well that they had no name for their collection of bone huts and growing fields. The honor of naming would belong to the town¡¯s patron deity, whenever Loki finally decided to grace them with his presence. Hopefully a name and his blessing would bring closure to their flight from the war and comfort to the mothers who had already miscarried. Ashera tried not to think about how many women had lost their unborn children, tried not to let fear make her heart beat faster as she thought about being two months overdue.

    She laughed to chase away the fear, Lorelai supporting her along their way, discussing pleasantries, the impending solstice, and the preparations pertaining to Loki¡¯s arrival. They walked around the village, they were up to twenty buildings now ¨Cenough for all of Loki¡¯s Lucky Seventy Seven disciples to sleep inside¨C with three heaping piles of bones some of the women were sorting through. Femurs and humeri made for surprisingly effective studs while the skulls filled in for bricks. Just another aspect of ¡®normal¡¯ life in Ellin Forest.

    Balorian spared a second to smile at them, hastily returning to the cooking pot that fed the entire village. Without access to wood they had to consolidate fuel with communal duties, not that anyone minded working a little harder so Balorian could cook. He had spent his life in high society, cooking for the nobles of Takioomi, rising through their kitchens in his quest for culinary perfection. Right up until the siege ¨Cand subsequent starvation¨C soured the nobles against him. They showed their true colors then, mocking the miracle chef as nothing more than another worthless mouth to feed. Ashera smiled at the irony, remembering how Lorelai almost left Balorian behind when she broke them out of the mayor¡¯s dungeon. Had they done so they would have starved during their first year in Ellin. Crops grew strangely within the forest, as did all life, the blight seemed to suck the life out of crops, resulting in pathetic harvests and hostile native flora. Balorian alone knew what was safe to eat and how to prepare the freakishly durable plants, despite being limited to dried poop fires and a single pot.

    Leaving the chef in peace they strolled onward, Ashera feigning a smile for everyone. She was their champion, their mage, their informal mayor, and their erratically loving poltergeist. So on they walked, never spending too much time in one place. Ashera didn¡¯t want to distract them or raise anyone¡¯s suspicions.

    They walked past the fields and Ashera noticed her brother, Ephraim, was still in his hammock. ¡°Lazy butt,¡± she grumbled. ¡°It¡¯s past noon! Let¡¯s go flip him over.¡±

    ¡°Mischief not malice.¡± Lorelai said, her warning clear.

    ¡°Don¡¯t cite the first law to me! I¡¯m the one who wrote it!¡± Said Ashera indignantly.

    ¡°I saw him up late with Haven, those two have been close recently.¡± Gossiped Lorelai.

    Ashera allowed herself to be dragged away, trying not to roll her eyes at the lie. Lorelai had stayed with her for all of last night, she would not have had the opportunity to witness Ephraim¡¯s hammock bound rendezvous. She should have called her out on the lie, but let it pass, Ephraim must have his reasons for lazing about while everyone worked, and she could forgive him for sleeping in once. He was her baby brother after all.

    They passed by Rowan and Vesper, the couple butchering one of the rare Ellin Forest Boars --prey that only the yoked Rowan or Seraphic Tristan seemed capable of bringing down¨C though it was strange to see Vesper¡¯s proficiency with knives as she dismantled the boar. Quartering the beast in the span of a few moments. Rowan helped his wife, skinning the boar and breaking the bones so Vesper¡¯s blades could trim the fat from muscle. Besides the trimmings, which would be dried, it would all go to Balorian¡¯s prep table. Vesper caught sight of them and waved a bloody hand warmly, her hair bluer than the day Ashera had dyed it.

    She must have dyed it by herself. Thought Ashera, reciprocating Vesper¡¯s smile as she returned the wave.

    ¡°I guess Rowan likes blueberries.¡± Giggled Ashera.

    Lorelai sucked on her teeth. ¡°Involving yourself in someone else''s marriage isn¡¯t mischief.¡±

    ¡°Even if I improve it?¡± Ashera retorted, her happy tone fading at Lorelai¡¯s cuckolded jest. Deciding to make the mood she tried again. ¡°Vesper is going to bring Aleyander into this world. After that, sign me up to take care of her needs!¡±

    ¡°As if she needs a washed up mage like you. Just look at that boar, there isn¡¯t a mark on its hide. I bet the stud wrestled it until he died of exhaustion.¡± Chortled Lorelai.

    Ashera glanced back at Rowan, he was easily the largest man in the village, and none of his bulk came from sloth. Whenever Vesper made his shirts she had to use twice as much fabric and three times as much fabric when she made his pants. A thought entered her mind, one that had intruded on her conscious mind before. How can Rowan be so strong, and still be human? Or did the blood of demonkind flow through his veins? The blood of the angels was self-evident, and Rowan carried none of those marks, but an infernal lineage could only exist in secret, naturally selecting against visible deformities.

    A coupling of humanity and demons created cambions, a foul amalgamation that the Inquisition and all nobles would slay. Or, if it were fortunate enough to be born on the winning side of the war, enslaved and worked to death by the demons. It should not have been possible for Rowan to be a cambion, but Ashera still wondered.

    ¡°You¡¯ve got the scowl of an unfinished murder. Are we going back to war after you give birth? Gerscav would pay us a king''s ransom for Tristan¡¯s heritage and your magic. I can¡¯t say I miss half rations on holidays and fresh rat every other day, but the thralls aren¡¯t going to kill themselves.¡± Said Lorelai, her tone forcibly even.

    They fell silent for a moment, neither woman wanting to reminisce about the darkest time of their lives. Ashera¡¯s heart ached, she wanted to leave Ellin Forest, she missed the battlefield where her magic mattered. A dozen illusionary soldiers could easily pull on the strings of fate, and the sense of purpose she felt after healing was an all devouring opiate that left her itching for the next hit. Ashera scratched her arm, recalling the blindness of gratitude that filled starving soldiers'' eyes after she healed a few of their scratches. She was no Seraph, calling thunder and lightning was beyond her ability, but setting a broken bone, purifying a festering wound, or enhancing a dagger so it could cleave through steel tower shields were well within her abilities. At least they were, when she was outside of Ellin Forest.

    There was a saying, that once you have a child you¡¯ll never look at another person and see them as anything other than someone else¡¯s child.

    Can I kill again? Will I be able to look Aleyander in the eye if we go back to the war? Thought Ashera, she raised a hand to rub her brow, trying to squeeze her doubts away.

    We will never find out. She promised herself.

    ¡°Death would be kinder than returning to that hell. Although¡­¡± Began Ashera, a hypocritical grin crossing her face. ¡°I will never be able to forget the taste of rat brain after a week on an empty stomach.¡±

    Lorelai blanched, clearly remembering exactly how ¡®fresh¡¯ the rats they had eaten during the capital siege were. The Prince, in all his noble brilliance, had ordered that no fires of any kind could be lit for fear of enemy mages zeroing in on him through the darkness. What did it matter that he only visited the walls during the day, his life was more valuable than the commoner¡¯s ability to cook or see. ¡®Fireballs for campfires¡¯ had been their watchwords for a month before the sergeants intervened and put an end to his idiocracy. Ashera shuddered at the memory, wondering how that carnage could exist in the same world as Ellin forest.

    ¡°Thank you for saving me back then¡­¡± Whispered Ashera, thinking of the subsequent second siege of Takioomi. ¡°If you hadn¡¯t pulled me out of the city when you did- ah¡­ The demons would have found me chained up in the mayor¡¯s cellar with a suppression collar around my neck¡­ And you know what they do to a female mage-¡±

    ¡°Stop it!¡± Shouted Lorelai, suddenly finding her breath short. ¡°Your stupid tricks got us out of Takioomi. I did nothing except steal some keys. It was you who saved us when you led our families through the legions.¡± Lorelai¡¯s voice quieted and Ashera felt her shiver despite the afternoon sun. ¡°I¡¯ll never forget their camp, charnel pyramids, what they did to those captives, the cooking pits, and¡­ and what they had built¡­¡± She shuddered.

    Lorelai¡¯s hands grasped at Ashera¡¯s arm, one hand reaching past to clutch at her belly. Aleyander squirmed, Ashera ground her teeth, trying hard not to remember the nightmares of her past. They came anyway, invading her waking mind as easily as they invaded her dreams, eternally dragging her back to yesterday¡¯s hell. Her mind faded as the memories claimed dominion over her eyes, and successive jolts to her insides sent her tumbling, reeling as Aleyander kicked the wind out of her lungs. Pain overrode her trauma, snapping her into the present.

    ¡°Gah! Ack!¡± Coughed Ashera, collapsing onto her knees and flopping backwards onto her ass.

    ¡°Ashera!¡± Cried Lorelai.

    She sank backwards, slumping onto the tough grass that was endemic to Ellin. Ashera¡¯s hands went to her hump, her mind consumed by the most important life in her univers. Lorelai¡¯s cry caught the attention of those nearby, who came running, Rowan in their fore and blueberry Vesper at his heel. Ashera took a moment to sense herself, mentally scanning her body for any sensation of damage. She called upon her soul, extracting a drop of Mana to circulate through herself. A sort of mana starved pulse to check herself. She closed her eyes, cursing herself for making a scene.

    Everyone around her was staring with such pitiable looks, concern etched into their wrinkles. She hated it. She tried to sit up using her arms to counterbalance herself only to fail miserably. Ashera would have done anything to make them laugh. Blinking away tears she laid back, scanning the eyes of those around her.

    ¡°I feel like a pregnant turtle.¡±

    She pressed her fingers together and flapped her hands, weakly echoing her words with actions. Rowan let out a groaning chuckle, concern melting into gal at her antics. Vesper snorted, circling around Ashera until she could see up her skirt. Laughter dispersed the crowd, making most people miss her next words.

    ¡°It¡¯s a real shame that you are enjoying your pregnancy so much, cause it''s about to end.¡±

    Ashera¡¯s heart skipped a beat, horrified by Vesper¡¯s dark implication. Is something wrong with the baby? I didn¡¯t fall that hard. Boar¡¯s blood was soaking into Vesper¡¯s hands; combined with her blue hair she looked like an undead revenant, coming to devour the living. Rowan exhaled loudly, the rollercoaster of emotions too much for the stoic man.

    ¡°Babe, what do you mean by that? If I didn¡¯t know any better I would think you were an axe murderer.¡±

    Vesper pursed her lips, pouting like a child. ¡°Cmon! That was hilarious!¡±

    Ashera roared with laughter, joined by Lorelai¡¯s chuckles, and Rowan covering his face in embarrassment. Tears streamed down Ashera¡¯s cheeks, shaken free by her mirth. She gasped for air, choking out a few words between breaths.

    ¡°As hilarious as a sack of kidney stones.¡±

    That got a chuckle from Rowan -who knew better than anyone- the limits of Vesper¡¯s comedic abilities. Vesper¡¯s pout turned into an exasperated sneer.

    ¡°Well I thought it was funny. Forget I ever said anything!¡± She yelled, expression turning serious she leaned into Ashera¡¯s personal space, getting uncomfortably close.

    ¡°This isn¡¯t the time for one of my tonics, we need to get you home. Your water broke.¡±

    ¡ªAshera suddenly understood why her family was going to crucify her.--

 Chapter 2 Ambush and Crucifixion

    Souls Absorbed: 0

    ¨C-The day AFTER Ashera¡¯s crucifixion¨C-

    Diana sucked in her stomach and pressed herself lower into the grass as her prey approached. Green spines pricked her skin, itching her body despite the cool kiss of morning dew. These humans were fools, journeying through Ellin Forest without a care in the world, as if they were kings and queens instead of meat.

    Clip-clop creaaaak

    The sounds of a caravan of wagons reach her, eight wagons moving in sync made one of her yearling wolves ¨Cbarely older than a puppy¨C peek its head above the grass. Diana let out a throaty growl, the yearling jumped in surprise, yelping and plunging himself into the patch of tall grass. Diana winced at his yelp.

    Had the humans heard him? She listened intently, not daring to risk a peek.

    Clip-clop creaaaak

    Human body odors wafted through the air, mingling with dried road apples and the perfume of mistletoe, if the humans heard, she couldn¡¯t tell, they sounded the same as before. She risked extending her mana through Ellin forest, limiting her mana ping to the sawgrass and ground. Eight wagons moved as they had, human voices echoed through the quiet woods. Yet something was off Guards already had arrows knocked or spears in their hands.

    Damn impatient welp. Wait til we get home yearling, then I¡¯ll give you something to yelp about. Thought Diana, sending her fury through their telepathic pack mind link.

    Dozens of wolves growled their agreement, filling their hive mind with empty bellies screaming at the foolish yearling. Diana mentally snapped her fingers, ¨CSILENCE, we have prey to hunt.-- Her order cleared the group telepathy of emotions. Free of distractions, she sniffed the air, her lupine nose not detecting the telltale presence of ozone that signaled an offensive spell. This band should have at least one mage, that bright soul was their prize, the object of their hunt, without the mage¡¯s soul this would be a waste of their time.

    Cassian, Elara, change of plans, you two will join the vanguard. Remember the mission mother gave us, tear off their arms and leave them for the others to pin down until I get there. Kill those who might escape. No survivors, especially no mages.

    As you command. Answered Cassian.

    Yes, my priestess. Answered Elara.

    The twin Lycanthropes began to shimmy forward, slinking through the tall grass on their bellies, sawgrass bit into their flesh, opening a thousand hair thick cuts along their human bodies. Cassian cursed in the telepathic link, drawing hoots of derision from wolves who sent images of their lucious winter coats.

    Damn Ellin Forest.

    The ambush site was little more than a rocky shale hill on one side and stunted cattails growing along a stream, the best ambush local they could find in ten leagues. It was the blight¡¯s fault, the way it leeched energy from the surrounding world stunted the growth and lifespan of all life, be it flora or fauna. Thankfully there seemed to be an underground wellspring nearby, blessing the grass with enough water to grow taller than the surrounding woods Insects buzzed in Diana¡¯s nose, a nuisance to her human form. Still, the werewolves were too large to hide in a foot of grass, forcing Elara and Cassian to crawl through the grass in their human forms.

    Several moments passed as the wagons crept into the kill zone, the wagon with a creaky wheel drew closer, inching towards its death. A few more seconds is all they needed, then they would be in the kill zone.

    Shale broke free of the hill, a legion of blaring horns to Diana¡¯s sensitive ears.

    ¡°Careful Jerry, don¡¯t let the scary rock piss your pants!¡± Jeered one of the guards.

    Yes, Jerry. Be careful. Thought Diana, knowing that once the last wagon entered the alley they could trap the rear with wolves, forming a cage of teeth and Lycans from every angle. Quite the feat of planning considering how sparsely wooded Ellin was, just four more cart lengths and everything would be in position.

    ¡°Oi Jared, I thought I saw something in the grass.¡± Shouted one of the human guards.

    Three more cart lengths.

    ¡°What do you expect me to do. You¡¯ve got the bow. Shoot it you idjit!¡±

    The lead wagon began to slow.

    No no no! If the caravan stopped now then the rear wagons would be able to escape! They would have to run them down across open terrain, presenting themselves as targets for mages and archers. Diana fought the urge to shift, her instincts lusting after human throats. Warm beating souls flicked her ears, charming caresses from delicious platters. Real, corn fed, free ranging human.

    An arrow burrowed into her shoulder, piercing pain made her want to cry out. Damn puppy. She cursed, clenching her jaw so tightly that her teeth sank into their roots. Muscles coiled around the arrow shaft, her healing factor encapsulating and rejecting the foreign object. Slicing pain surrounded the barbs, scalding her spine as the arrows cut on the way out.

    Diana dared not move, too scared to breathe.

    A wolf in the rear of the ambush transferred his sight through the pack mind. Showing the last wagon pass the tree Diana had marked. She smiled, knowing the arrow¡¯s pain would be avenged.

    Begin the ambush. Do not let any escape. She said.

    Two howls pierced the sun, making horses jitter and men spin to see the wolves coming up their rear ¨Ca feint¨C to distract from the shifting Lycans in front. Slender Elara hit the lead wagon first, brown fur instantly darkened by the blood of two human arms. The poor man didn¡¯t even have time to scream in pain before she tore into his companion

    Muscular Cassian hit the third wagon, he moved slower than normal, a vain attempt to restrain his bloodlust as he tore into the humans. He nipped at the man¡¯s shoulder, accidentally removing his head along with the scapula. Blood geysered from the dead man, raining over the woman beside him and staining the wagon¡¯s wood a dark mahogany. She let out a shriek of terror. Thrusting a knife into Cassian¡¯s gut. Had it been a dagger or shortsword, he might have felt her sting, but the kitchen knife snapped at the handle. Its half tang construction too weak for the job of fileting werewolves.

    It was a small mercy that she did not have time to process her failure. Cassian¡¯s claws tore off her arms and moved on, running rearward to kill escapees. Scores of wolves attacked the caravan, teeth found ankles, tripping humans, turning them into living pantries for their approaching kin.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    The Mother¡¯s will be done.

    Diana shifted one arm into her human form and withdrew her Mother¡¯s ¡®gift¡¯, careful to keep it within the leather sack it had come in. Massaging the orb to the sack¡¯s mouth she winced as the black orb appeared, its inner darkness warping the air as if sucking light itself into its depths, creating a ball of shadows around her hand, tendrils of darkness grasping at the nearest soul. She pressed the vile mass of darkening tendrils into an armless man¡¯s throat, diligently holding the orb in contact as the man screamed, apparently bothered by the extraction of his soul. Diana wasn¡¯t. She continued onto the woman Cassian had dis-armed, siphoning her soul as well. The process ¨Chowever loudly they protested¨C lasted a trifling span of seconds.

    Moving through the caravan of broken bodies she realized there was no risk of escapees. Cassian¡¯s strength and Elara¡¯s speed were more than enough to overwhelm the humans, breaking their limbs so Diana could capture them. No mages seemed to be present, abolishing any need for Diana¡¯s ambush plan. One Lycan was more than enough, and she had brought seven.

    One by one she pressed the orb against dying humans, absorbing their souls into the Mother¡¯s weapon. Ellin¡¯s blight drained their mana, but the Soul Sphere wasn¡¯t a mundane storage device, it was a prison of souls, one that slaved the souls to itself, creating a weapon that produced power instead of consuming it. A uniquely cursed artifact amongst the endless sea of runic blades and  artificer weapons.

    Grow strong you damn orb of death. You must grant Ashera the mana of an archangel before the year is out. Thought Diana, careful to keep her thoughts private from the pack mind.

    Reaching the end of the caravan she found a circle of her siblings, wolves and other Lycans surrounding a pale man with hair darker than midnight. He held Cassian by the heart, broken ribs splayed around his hand, wiggling as the Lycan¡¯s healing factor attempted to pull them back into his chest, the man seemed not to care and held a glimmer blue blade to Cassian¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Ah hello priestess, my name is Loki. Please take note that while I am holding one of yours captive, he is still alive. In fact, I haven¡¯t slain any of your kin.¡±

    Diana shivered, he was using magic openly in Ellin Forest, the blight should have stolen his power¨C

    ¡°Yes yes, the blight is icky. Look, these humans were a mark of mine, not an ally. I should tear you all limb from limb for robbing me, but I haven¡¯t the time to quarrel with the Huntress. Nor am I so foolish to try even if I did. Let me pass unhindered and I will forget whatever you were doing with that Soul Sphere.¡± Said Loki, guessing, or reading her thoughts.

    Diana¡¯s eye twitched, bloodlust rising at the demigod¡¯s implications. One thought derailed her train of thought.

    Killing him will not serve Mother. She telepathically shared her vision of the man¡¯s current form, noting his pale skin and oddly dark hair.

    Ignore this one, he is a ghost, forget you ever saw him and never speak of it again. By my Mother¡¯s command. She ordered.

    Many wolves were ready to challenge her order, their fangs barred and hackles raised; until they heard the last four words. As suddenly as a guillotine they dispersed. The Huntress, doting grandmother that she was, did not know the meaning of ¡®forgiveness¡¯, a long hunt and a painful end awaited those who were foolish enough to slight her will.

    Loki flicked his sword, sheathing its glimmering blade in a fluid twirl as he kicked Cassian forward. The gaping chest wound ¨Cthrough which Loki had been holding his heart¨C sealed itself, his Lycanthropic powers functioning slower than was normal.

    ¡°A wise choice priestess. Send the Huntress my regards.¡± Said Loki, waving cordially, like one would do after a tea party.

    Bones crunched in his wake as wolves tore into their prey, strengthening their bodies for the hunt that had brought them across the Keresh. Eighteen human souls had been added to the orb, it wasn¡¯t much, in fact, it may as well been nothing, eighteen flickering candles, generating as much heat as mana, failing to combat the drain of Ellin¡¯s blight.

    We have failed our mission. Mother¡¯s chosen champion will have to empower this weapon with their own violence. If they can find the will to condemn bright souls. You¡¯ll have to target mages Ashera, maybe even a Seraph if you can find one stupid enough.

    Time was running short, she needed to find the Mother¡¯s chosen warrior. Diana circulated mana through her face, scenting the air for sorrow. Geruvah should have already crucified Ashera¡­ And indeed she had, the stench of her woe hit Diana full in the face, bitch slapping the Lycan across leagues.

    The Mother¡¯s champion was calling her.

    Suffer a little more Ashera, we are coming for you.

    ¡ª

    Pain smothered Ashera. Drenching her in liquid torment.

    Her arms ached, her feet felt like they were being split apart by steel spikes ¨Cwhich they were¨C and her whole body felt like she was being pulverized. Whoever invented crucifixion is a real asshole. Thought Ashera, recalling with an iota of satisfaction that the Keresh Reaver who had invented the practice found himself on the receiving end shortly thereafter. Not that it helped her, or brought any relief.

    With a painful jerk, Ashera realized she was halfway through dying, relaxing her arms she hung on the cross, giving her legs a moment¡¯s reprieve from carrying her body weight. Hopeless annoyance at her powerless state made her pull against the nails in her forearms, spreading radius and ulna apart with the inch thick spike¡¯s tapered shaft. Pain ignited reflexes, the urge to preserve her body screaming from her brainstem to make it stop, robbing her strength. Convulsions wracked her as pain fried neurons forcing her to give up and press her hands against the blackwood beam. Direct skin to blight contact that sapped her paltry reserves of mana.

    No strength, no mana, no family or allies left¡­

    The reaper would come for her soon.

    Why had her family done this to her? With nothing else to do on the cross but contemplate her own failings, her mind wandered back to what should have been the best day of her life.

    ¨CA day and a half before Ashera¡¯s crucifixion¨C-

    Thirty hours of memories abbreviated themselves into a fugue of pushing and pain, passing through Ashera¡¯s mind like a summer breeze. Vesper¡¯s adept touch guided the birth, with Lorelai and Tristan -Ashera¡¯s knight husband- comforting her throughout the two days and single night. Members of Loki¡¯s Lucky Seventy Seven came and went, eager to catch a glimpse of the first child born in Ellin Forest. Anxiety crossed the women¡¯s faces, each hoping to see a healthy infant and fearing that the Blackwood blight might have twisted the baby, cursing the innocent with scales or taint.

    Men came to pay their respect to Tristan, bringing offerings of distinctive bones, fresh berries, or dried meats. Nerus Brought a rattle for the baby and Balorian visited them several times to deliver smoked boar and a fragrant soup that made Ashera drool. As if she weren¡¯t already a hot mess, legs spread and sopping with sweat.

    Ephraim was absent, a visible sin that was made conspicuous after their older sister Jude arrived, bringing a cradle made from bleached rib bones and lined with coarse boar¡¯s fur. The thought of swaddling Aleyander inside the cage of human bones made Ashera question her sanity.

    Bones for a cradle. Sis, what-the-ever-loving-fuck. Why use human bones? Shit¡­ would demon bones be any better? Ah, but I can¡¯t say that to her face, Aleyander¡¯s birth is probably more difficult for her than it is for me. Choking down what she wanted to say, Ashera found the words to stitch her sister¡¯s broken heart.

    ¡°Wow. Thank you Jude!¡± Said Ashera, receiving a broad grin from Jude.

    A contraction brought beads of sweat to her brow, a perfect target for Lorelai¡¯s drunk rag. She dabbed it away, then vacated her seat, making space for Jude to sit at Ashera¡¯s side.

    ¡°Sorry about the bones, I couldn¡¯t find anything else that would work. Demon bones are bigger but¡­ I couldn¡¯t! That¡¯s too- just¡­ ew. The farms haven¡¯t grown anything long enough to weave together and the grass is covered in those tough nettles. Then it kept on breaking-¡± Said Jude, starting to ramble.

    ¡°Jude, it¡¯s fine.¡± Interrupted Ashera, caressing Jude¡¯s face. ¡°Really, thank you. It¡¯s my fault anyways. I never could have guessed how hard it was to live in Ellin Forest. Who knew that bones of ancient legends are more common than sticks in a forest? Everything is tougher here, trees that dull ten axe heads and boars whose hide can turn a spearpoint. Fingers crossed that Aleyander picks up their strength.¡± Said Ashera, trying her best to cheer her sister.

    Jude deserves a better family than me.

    Her excuse seemed to warm and embitter her elder sibling, who left the rib cage cradle beside them. The ideal place for Ashera to place her newborn heart. They were trying to heal the rift between them in their own way, but the wound was fresh, festering with fuzzy envy greens.

    ¡°So the day has finally come for our family to grow larger.¡± Said Jude, sorrow evident in her eyes.

    Ashera saw her heart, knew what she was trying to forget. Jude shifted in her seat, the scars across her face and body tugging her skin unnaturally taut. Aftershocks from when the demons had found her own family, a ¡®parting gift¡¯ to make sure she would remember what they had done with every future smile.

    A memory of how they had hung her child with her husband¡¯s intestines flicked across her face. Darkening the room. Ashera and Tristan had slain the demons, yet that wasn¡¯t enough to purge the memories of how their infernal power kept them alive for days. Locking her baby in the throes of suffocation for at least three days, all the while they ground her husband¡¯s bones into bread and fed it to Jude, promising to let her infant live if Jude finished her meal.

    ¡°Jude, I should have asked this sooner¡­ but, will you be Aleyander¡¯s godmother? I want to give him the family you and I never had, like an aunt and a real parents and a godmother. Will you take care of him if-¡±

    ¡°Ashera! Shut your mouth! Don¡¯t even think about that! Besides, where would that leave Lorelai?¡± Said Jude, giving Ashera a smile that showed her crows feet. ¡°I¡¯ll be too busy, being the best aunt you¡¯ve ever seen.¡±

    They smiled, and Ashera wrapped her older sister in a hug, pulling her closer until she felt like they might squish together into one fat woman. Hours flew by, with Vesper growing ever more terse, shooing away any and all bystanders she could. Then came the moment they all turned against Ashera, the moment she had been looking for-

    -and dreading.

    Eight hours before her execution, Vesper noticed the problem. After all, she was the midwife, the one who knew how a birth ought to go. When Ashera began to bleed, she thought nothing of it, a little blood was part of life, just as death was an inevitable fraction of joy. But when Ashera did not stop bleeding she grew concerned. When Vesper caught sight of Aleyander¡¯s crown, she ordered the room cleared, an order that muscular Rowan carried out.

    Ashera could see it in Vesper¡¯s eyes, the growing terror as the end of her pregnancy loomed.

    Something had gone wrong.

    Something was seriously wrong with Aleyander.

 Chapter 3 The Pregnancy Terminates

    Souls Absorbed: 18

    Tristan remained in their home, refusing to be moved by ¨Cthe much larger¨C Rowan. The blood of angels ran thinly within his veins, yet it was enough, Heaven stood behind his martial honour and no matter how much larger Rowan appeared, they both knew who could rip off the other¡¯s arms. Tristan¡¯s inner fire is what had drawn Ashera to him, he was her protector, the man who went bump in the night, while she was his humor, the day of his joy. Rowan understood their bond, and did not attempt to remove him, leaving the five of them to witness Ashera¡¯s bane.

    ¡°Lorelai, I need more cloth.¡± Ordered Vesper.

    She waited until the taller woman left, a hint of envy as Lorelai¡¯s hips swayed out of the room. When did Lorelai get so¡­ Curvy? Hasn¡¯t she always been more boyish than Ashera? She thought, dismissing the thought in the same instant, she had work to do, black work. Vesper¡¯s blue eyes found Ashera¡¯s, wilting under the pain and fear in the mother¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°Ashera, this is going to hurt. I don¡¯t mean hurt like a barefoot jog across the Keresh, I mean hurt like a scorching sword in the guts. Listen to me, you cannot heal until after he is fully born. No magic at all. Can you handle that?¡±

    ¡°Handle a knife in the guts, Is that all? Takioomi hurt more than that!¡± Ashera said, knowing there was no alternative. ¡°I can endure a little pain, even if he breaks both my hips I¡¯ll still smile when I finally hold my baby boy.¡±

    Vesper winced, already knowing Ashera¡¯s pelvis had split under the strain of an eleven month infant. Pregnancy was draining under the best conditions, but with two extra months to endure and the leeching blight, she would be lucky if only her hips broke. Vesper opened her mouth to ask how much Ashera could heal, only to shut her mouth. The blackwood of Ellin Forest made regulating magic almost impossible, the blight fed off or amplified mana on its own whimsy, asking for Ashera¡¯s limits would only add stress to mother and child.

    ¡°Okay, I¡¯m going to help the baby out, remember no magic. Give her something to bite.¡±

    Tristan took Ashera¡¯s hand, interlacing their fingers. While Rowan stuffed a wooden dowel into her mouth, swallowing hard as he watched Vesper work. They had been together since they were five years old, back when Vesper was taller than he was. Rowan had seen her deliver dozens of babies, and the last time she had performed this specific technique the mother had passed before she could be healed. Vesper beckoned to him, silently ordering him to hold Ashera¡¯s legs open. Lorelai returned in time to take Ashera¡¯s free hand, helping to hold her down as Vesper levered her pelvis apart.

    CRACK

    Ashera didn¡¯t know what tool Vesper used, all she could process was deafening pain as her pelvis shattered. Mind-numbing agony that overloaded her brain, shutting down any conscious thoughts.

    The wooden dowel did little to muffle her echoing agony.

    Stressed to the maximum by an overdue pregnancy and a leeching blight, the ligaments that secured her pelvis finally gave up the ghost, snapping and instantly opening the birth canal. ¡®Aleyander¡¯ slid into Vesper¡¯s arms. His horns tore at Ashera, unzipping her flesh like one might filet a fish.

    Vesper caught him by reflex, her conscious mind too shocked by his appearance to comprehend anything else. Rowan doubted his eyes, not believing ¡®that thing¡¯ could come from Ashera, their champion, savior, and the ¡®Lady of Luck¡¯.

    ¡°It- He¡¯s out! Ashera, heal!¡± shouted Rowan, trying to staunch her bleeding internals with a rag.

    Blood soaked through the cloth making Rowan press all the harder. Ashera leaned back, collapsing into the bed as she focused entirely on healing, mana flowed within her, triaging arteries, closing schisms, and pulling bone fragments back into position. Rowan felt her pelvis knit together, felt the skin squirm as it sought the cells that had once been neighbors. The sensation clenched his jaw. Blood flowed in reverse, fleeing from the sopping rag into Ashera.

    No matter how many times he saw it, arcane healing always found a way to turn Rowan¡¯s stomach.

    Ashera held Lorelai and Tristan in place, her body relaxed, yet immobile. Utterly engrossed in healing herself. Vesper seized the opportunity, knowing what was required of her humanity. She slid two fingers around the infant¡¯s neck, steadily tightening as she pulled the baby¡¯s head backwards, twisting slightly to break the cervical vertebrae cleanly. An unnecessary step to ensure that the thing in her hands would never draw breath. Its body was already cold, lifeless, a stillborn cambion, but death was more-often-than-not a temporary affliction for demons. Ashera never heard the neck snap, but she was the only one. Rowan winced and turned away, unable to look Tristan in the eye. Lorelai peeked around him, emotions flew across her face, first rage at infantcide, followed by horror as she beheld the corpse. Finally, understanding dawned only to be drowned in the tears of a godmother who would never be.

    Tristan was another matter, standing free of Ashera he caught Rowan by the throat, lifting him bodily into the air. Rowan did not resist, in fact he did nothing at all, letting his head hang in shame, mouthing the words ¡®I¡¯m sorry¡¯. That only made it worse, Tristan tossed Rowan like a used pad, finally setting eyes on what should have been his son.

    Words could not describe what went through his soul. Neither could his face express the frothing emotions within him. Sorrow, fury, pain, despair, desperation, all were present within him, competing for dominance over his actions. Tristan¡¯s face went blank. Hollow eyes never leaving the form of the thing in Vesper¡¯s hands. He freed himself from Ashera¡¯s grasp, wordlessly retrieving the limp red form from the midwife. One of ¡®Aleyander¡¯s¡¯ black horns pierced his palm, drawing blood from a second parent. Tristan didn¡¯t -couldn¡¯t- care. Seraphic blood rose within him, overriding his emotions to remind him of his duty.

    I understand, one last thing must be done before our divorce. He thought.

    He left their home, carrying the baby by the head, walking through the ribcage door and shattering it in a cascade of white dust. Angelic strength obliterating the transient blockage.

    Ashera never saw Aleyander, so great was her focus that she was blind, deaf, and dumb to the world. Bone fragments landed on her, failing to catch her attention. A true invalid fighting for her life with the powers of a saint. It wasn¡¯t enough. Loki wasn¡¯t enough. His powers were as plethora as his disciples, with a few hundred followers scattered across the continent he had little power to spare, and spared none for Ashera.

    Her healing pittered out, slowing and fading long before her pelvis was solid, the bleeding had stopped, but Ashera knew her body was broken, without some supernatural force stabilizing her pelvis, hips, and legs she would never walk again. Opening her eyes she witnessed the moment her family turned against her.

    Why they were crucifying her.

    Lorelai wept beside her, hand intertwined while Vesper lingered between her calves, tending to her midwife duties out of habit. Vesper¡¯s gaunt eyes extolled evil into Ashera¡¯s soul. All three women wished to be anywhere except where they were now, yearning for a future that did not seal their present doom.

    ¡°Did Tristain take Aleyander? Ah, guess that¡¯s fine, I had him all to myself for eleven months, it¡¯s about time Tristan took his turn. Phew.¡± Said Ashera, wondering why everyone looked so grim.

    Vesper let out a strangled laugh, the damn holding back her disgust broke on the rocks of Ashera¡¯s humor. She didn¡¯t have the strength to correct Ashera¡¯s assumptions, hell, she didn¡¯t have the strength to face what she had just done to the child-¡­ to the abomination.

    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    ¡°Yes, he took i- ¡­ Aleyander¡­ Can¡¯t mix a growing baby and magic. Ah¡­ I¡¯ll go talk to him.¡± Said Lorelai, correcting herself mid sentence.

    She left, dragging Vesper with her and silently hoping she would bleed out while they were absent.

    Ashera breathed deeply, Aleyander was fine, they had taken him away so she could heal without fear of a backlash. (Babies of mages often inherited the ability to wield mana, if she used magic then it was possible for Aleyander to emulate the sensation and cast magic without any guidance or control. Effectively a baby bomb.) Eleven long months of pregnancy had finally ended. Her whole body ached with satisfaction, the echo of a job well done and carried beyond any expectation. Wind rattled through the broken doorway, sending a chill up her skirt.

    Though it chilled her to the core Ashera barely felt it.

    For the first time in¡­ Years? She felt at peace. Her family was safe from the demons, the first baby of Ellin Forest had been born, proving that their village could survive here. It would take time, but Jude would finally be able to heal the scars across her soul, there were a number of bachelors in town, Nerus or Balorian were excellent candidates for Jude. They were already acquainted, had lived and worked together as mercenaries, and were still single, despite Lorelai and Ashera¡¯s best efforts to see them pair off. Though neither man could replace what Jude had lost, but maybe one of them could give her a new family to give her life meaning. Ashera smiled, contemplating what pranks she and Aleyander could play on his aunt to shake her out of the purgatory that stole her smile.

    It was a peaceful day for Ashera.

    ¡ª

    Tristan adjusted his grip on the abonination¡¯s skull, squeezing with all his superhuman strength. It didn¡¯t budge. He ground his teeth until he could taste smoke. Fury and hatred breeding in his id. She cheated on me¡­ Cheated on me with a damned-mother-fucking demon! His subconscious called out to him, reminding him of Lorelai, the way she looked at him in the dark, the way used her tongue when they kissed, the way her hips messed with his. That¡¯s different. Sleeping with Lorelai was different, a temporary tryst that would end when Ashera recovered, he was a man, a grandson of a Seraph, he had urges that were greater than any base human could understand.

    His conscience pressed him, not accepting his answer. Then why not get Ashera¡¯s blessing before fucking her best friend?

    Tristan shook his head and raised a hand to wipe his brow, unintentionally smacking his nose with the cambion. Fury broke his heart, damning him to the rage of pride unfulfilled. It''s all her fault! I was right to not tell that bitch. This damned corpse should have been my firstborn son.

    His grip tightened trying to crush the skull, it rebounded in his hand, the monster¡¯s skull too resilient for his failing might. A curse escaped his lips, the damn forest was leeching his strength, sapping all their powers and probably their lives too. Had Ashera known what the blackwood Blight would do to them? She must have, why else bring us here? We were strong, we could have gone to Juyoma and saved the city! We, -I could have been a hero. A thousand painful thoughts filled Tristan¡¯s mind.

    Working blindly, his fingers wandered over the abomination as they sought to destroy it. The thing was already cool to the touch, but he could not afford to take a chance. Demons of any age were lethal beings, he could not be too certain it was dead. Rotating his grip he grasped the head like a bowling ball, forcing his middle finger into the things left eye socket and his ring finger into its right socket. Jelly squelched as his fingers bottomed out, touching the skull through the eyes. Grasping the abomination with his left hand he began to twist the body, holding the head in place while he corkscrewed the neck. Ligaments strained, protesting like rope that had been drawn too tightly.

    Men and women watched him work ¨Cpeople who had come to congratulate Ashera and Tristan¨C their faces flushed, mouths covered, a woman, Haven, broke into tears collapsing as she wept. Two men dragged her away, roughly handling the woman who broke into their walled off hearts.

    Balorian and Nerus followed their example, guiding women and teens away from the village square; they did not do this out of mercy, or they would have hidden the cambion. Instead they paraded every soul in front of the crime, making sure every woman and undecided member of the village bore witness to Ashera¡¯s crime. Precious offerings were dropped, forgotten as everyone in Ashera¡¯s life witnessed her sin. Tricky silver coins with both sides as heads, handfuls of blueberries, or a chamber pot full of rose petals, Heaven only knew where she had found the flowers. Small trinkets meant to please the Lady of Luck, champion of Loki. It didn¡¯t matter, they were discarded all the same.

    Sacrificing their offerings on the alter of their faith in Ashera. The first baby of their unnamed village ¨Cwhat should have been a testament of human adaptation¨C a physical manifestation of their will to survive, had been corrupted. Twisted into the red skinned form of an impish fetus. Two black horns glistened in the evening light, distracting onlookers from it¡¯s cloven hooves and mouth full of needle-like fangs.

    creeeeeeeaaak

    POP

    The head came free in Tristan''s hands.

    A grizzly gasp came from the score of onlookers, Rowan finally cracked, tears flowing down his cheeks as he held Vesper in his arms. The old warriors understood what they were bearing witness too, and began to usher the remaining women away, trying to keep them from seeing the hellish truth. Hearing about evil a day later was infinitely more gentle than watching it spawn from the womb of your savior.

    ¡°Tristan¡­ Uhm¡­ use this.¡± Said Rowan, blinking rapidly as he dropped the stump they used for chopping firewood at Tristan¡¯s feet.

    Tristan opened his mouth to speak, coughed, then nodded. Unable to find his words he spoke with his acts. Lifting the tool of his trad e he levered his superhuman strength to bring the hammer edge of his axe down on the infant¡¯s skull.

    CRACK

    The axe rebounded off the skull, sending Tristan back two paces. Its head had split open, sending black goo oozing out from between its horns. Tristan¡¯s hands ached, but he proceeded to dismantle the demon, venting his cuckolded fury on the thing that should have been the love of his future. He dismembered and broke the abomination, leaving its remnants in a pile atop the stump.

    ¡°Wish we could burn it.¡± Muttered Rowan.

    ¡°No, demons are tempered in the fires of hell. Heat would empower it. I¡¯ll go bury¡­ it¡­ Once we do the same to her.¡± Said Tristan.

    Rowan¡¯s mouth fell open, Vesper recoiled. Tristan ignored them both, they did not have the blood of angels in their veins. Their reactions were natural given their mundane lineage, they lacked the will to kill for others. Yes, Rowan had fought thralls and slain them, but demons were entirely different from their brainwashed slaves. Cruelty was a dash of salt to them, a delectable seasoning to their panoply of agony.

    No treatment was brutal enough when it concerned demons.

    Vesper approached him, putting one blood stained hand on the hilv of his axe. ¡°Tristan, what are you saying? This is already more than we can bear!¡±

    He shrugged her off. Pondering Ashera¡¯s sin. When had she consorted with a monster? They had been inseparable for years, throughout their flight from Yace he had fought alongside her and Lorelai, the three of them wielding their gods given powers against the infernal. Ashera didn¡¯t sleep alone, she couldn¡¯t sleep alone, the things the demons had done to her parents kept her awake at night, forcing her into the arms of someone powerful enough to keep the nightmares at bay. If Tristan wasn¡¯t beside her, then Lorelai would comfort her.

    Who had she cheated with? No, that was the wrong question, who had the whore fucked?

    Tristan often took Rowan into the woods, hunting the boars with warhammers and snares. It couldn¡¯t be him¡­ Damnit, it wasn¡¯t a person, it was a demon! Some of them can change their form, pretend to be human. Did an incubus follow us? It could have infiltrated us when we fled Takioomi, that idiodic mayor locked Ashera up. He could have sicked the incubus on her then. No, that was over two years ago!

    Rowan traded a worried glance with Vesper, he had never seen Tristan look this ferocious. They had all seen Tristan¡¯s face in battle, the way his eyes narrowed and twitched, that grimacing smile of contempt that he reserved for thralls. The face of heaven¡¯s wrath was a mask that Tristan had worn often.

    This face was worse.

    ¡°We should send for an inquisitor. There may still be one in Juyoma or Gerscav, they are near enough-¡± Began Vesper, trying to placate him.

    ¡°No inquisitor would be foolish enough to waste a month in Ellin Forest, they all know the legends!¡± Growled Tristan.

    ¡°Then we¡¯ll take Ashera to them. We owe her that much!¡± Said Rowan.

    Tristan''s face ran red, his breath deepened. Owe her that much? What do I owe her Rowan? She betrayed me. Told me she was carrying my son! She even named the bastard after my grandfather. What manner of whore does that then gives birth to that hellspawned abomination! Why are they bothering to involve an inquisitor? Those Seraphs are just as vile as the demons they fight.

    ¡°What exactly do you think an inquisitor will do for Ashera? Maybe they will torture her until she confesses? Admits that she did indeed bear a demon¡¯s child? We have all the evidence they could ever need right there.¡± Said Tristan, pointing his axe head at the pile of red skinned meat. ¡°After they see that¡­ Well, they¡¯ll probably burn her at the stake, that¡¯s what the Ansits have decreed is the correct method of dealing with witches. Burn them at the stake then behead them and burn the body again. Grind anything that remains into ashes and bury it ten feet down.¡±

    Vesper¡¯s eyes bulged. ¡°She deserves a trial! She is Loki¡¯s chosen hero, I can¡¯t believe that she would do this. The demons are playing a trick on us! They could have found a way to corrupt the baby-¡±

    Tristan¡¯s mouth fell into a sneer. ¡°Just listen to yourself, the tricksters favorite whore isn¡¯t guilty of this trick. Do you really believe that Vesper?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not- not¡­ She¡¯s your wife!¡± Stammered Vesper.

    Her plea had meant to temper Tristan¡¯s hate, instead it poured lemon juice onto his bleeding heart. Why was Vesper defending her? She was the first one to catch her lie, the very woman who delivered the abomination!

    An iniquitous thought snagged Tristain¡¯s attention.

    Vesper was the midwife, the one who checked on Ashera throughout her pregnancy. If any demon had infiltrated their village then Vesper would be the ideal candidate. The women often sought her out to discuss how they could conceive, from wards to dinner, Vesper always had an answer. Always coming and going at odd hours, brewing strange remedies. Tristan knew of their efficacy ¨Cshe had served as their medic when Ashera¡¯s healing magic inevitably ran dry¨C but that only sold the lie. Demons would gladly heal a bruise today so they could steal your soul tomorrow. Vesper had a reason to enter every home, unfettered access to every woman and womb. No one would question the bilgewater ¡®tonics¡¯ she was giving their wives.

    That made two traitors.

    Two whores that required his judgment.

 Chapter 4 The Succubus

    It took everything iota of Lorelai¡¯s willpower not to smile as she watched Tristan mentally brand Vesper as a traitor. Look at the great great great grandson of a Lesser Seraph stumble and fall. She thought, biting her tongue so hard that her teeth sheared through it. Acidic blood filled her mouth, a delicious pain she twisted to her advantage as her borrowed body reacted. Tears burst from her eyes, streaming down her face, Lorelai half turned away from the others, pretending to conceal her tears by covering her mouth and wiping her eyes.

    In truth, it gave them a clearer view. She swallowed hard, and shook her head to no-one. Expertly deceiving the humans, not that it was difficult. After a few thousand years of pretending to be one, it had become second nature to manipulate the human animals. Ashera was the deviant exception, whose Lokinean bent constantly surprised Lorelai.

    Excellent entertainment for the bored succubus. But the Matriarch of Malevolence had given her an order, one she would obey with all her being.

    ¡®Teach the mortals what it means to suffer. Snuff out your pleasure farms, slay your harems, and join the war for Oathinao. My plan requires the woe -the inconsolable misery- of millions.¡±

    It was a shame that Lorelai, and the succubus within her, heard the Matriarch¡¯s decree almost two years ago, the same day they had entered Ellin Forest. Unlike now she had been isolated then, unable to cope with the loss of her magic within the forest, but now. Well, now she may as well be the Matriarch, blackwood blight was not the insurmountable ward she had once thought it was. The blight absorbed magic, and if there was no magic the blight would feed off the souls of the living, leeching their lifeforce and cannibalizing plants until the forest was a sparsely wooded and lifeless realm. But if one wrapped their mana with the vitality of others it became possible to preserve one¡¯s power. Ephraim had made for an excellent condom, one that had safeguarded Lorelai for months.

    The leeching effect had weakened arrogant Tristan until his bloodline abandoned him, making him vulnerable to Lorelai¡¯s wiles. She had enjoyed that deeply, seducing a descendant of the angels ¨Cno matter how far removed-- always had a way of making her giddy. It had been so easy, a little torture back in Takioomi and Ashera begged her to sleep next to her, sandwiching herself between Lorelai and Tristan, as if they were her family. A lie of comfort that convenienced the affair. Tristan had resisted at first, but no male could avoid her demonic suggestions, especially when they were separated by a lone woman.

    I can¡¯t wait to see the pain in your eyes when I tell you the truth Ashera. But, now isn¡¯t the time, your bright soul must be snuffed out before the Lycans can intervene.

    Lorelai could feel the people turn against Ashera, her execution and their fall was practically guaranteed now. Her only failing had been the stillbirth, the only blemish on an otherwise pristine plan. No matter, she didn¡¯t care much for infants, they were nothing more than little farms of ichor, always shitting and vomiting for attention. Impossible to corrupt when they lacked the intelligence necessary to understand contradictions.

    Bah, it was deplorable, so vile that Lorelai redoubled her tears, drawing the attention of Jude and several other villagers who surrounded her, offering her words of comfort, Jude wrapped her arms around the succubus, pulling her close and letting her cry on her shoulder.

    HA! Humans were the most gullible mortals, they were practically begging Lorelai to take advantage of them.

    All of them were fools, they had made it all too easy to abort their children, a single drop of her blood mixed into Vesper¡¯s ¡®tonics¡¯ had proven lethal to their leeched bodies, a trick the idiots somehow blamed on the trees. The trees. As if the blight could steal their lives along with their weak souls.

    Tristan moved away from Rowan and Vesper, carrying the body of Aleyander. He was about to bury the evidence. No, it was too soon, Ashera needed to see what had become of her world. Lorelai¡¯s heartbeat quickened, her body rising in arousal at the thought of what came next, it was time to put on a show.

    ¡°Horrible, it¡¯s so horrible what Ashera did.¡± Cried Lorelai, loud enough for Tristan to hear.

    He stopped, body tensing as he heard the whore¡¯s name. Jude stroked Lorelai¡¯s back, ¡°It is horrible what happened to Ashera. I never could have thought her child would be stillborn.¡± Said Jude.

    Oh envious Jude, I can always count on you for false platitudes, it¡¯s how I¡¯ll flip you like a pancake.

    ¡°Nooooo.¡± Wailed Loralai, ¡°I- I thought she was going to see Loki, b-but- oh! It¡¯s too awful to say!¡±

    She had their undivided attention now. Tristan stopped, and more people saw the demonic child¡¯s pieces. All the evidence they would need for a kangaroo trial.

    ¡°What are you talking about Lorelai? When did Ashera leave? Where did she go?¡± Asked Jude.

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    Lorelai choked on her tears, gasping for air to prevent the cackle she felt in her heart. Jude¡¯s envy of Ashera¡¯s life was finally rearing it¡¯s ugly head, she couldn¡¯t even consider her own sister¡¯s innocence. Lorelai wailed into her shoulder, channeling small tendrils -no larger than a few hairs- of her own blood into Jude. The tendrils wormed through her shirt and into her skin, quickly empowering the mortal with hatred for the woman who had never abandoned her. One sin fed off another, Jude¡¯s envy sharpening quicker than Lorelai could leech it from her. She was going to drag this out for as long as they would let her.

    Jude¡¯s thoughts came quickly, cascading into Lorelai¡¯s mind as she imagined them. Ashera was born with magic, why wasn¡¯t I? She must have taken all the magic our parents had to give, they always saved everything for their favorite Ashera. Even when the demons took them away, they left everything to her. ¡°Protect your little sister Jude. Even if it kills you.¡± They never gave a damn about me. Where were they when the demons came for my family? Dead and burned, that¡¯s where they were. They sacrificed everything for Ashera, they didn¡¯t even think about me or Ephraim. What kind of trash-

    Lorelai reveled in the vitriol. Squeezing Jude tightly as the influx of essence filled her bosom, feeding her power from the woman¡¯s soul. At this rate Jude would burn out in a few days. Good, Lorelai would need a few thralls by then. The road back to the Matriarch required sacrifices. Besides, she already had a knight in Tristan, no reason to keep the fourth best swordswoman alive.

    ¡°A year ago, Ashera left to pray to Loki. *sniff* she said that she had to leave Ellin so he could hear her better. She was gone for weeks. I never thought she would¡­ Oh Jude! We thought she was alone!¡± Cried Lorelai.

    The math was so simple that even the illiterates fell into her trap, Ashera had been complaining about the eleven month pregnancy all month, making light of the excessive length. It had been her favorite topic, discussed between her relentless stream of mischiefs. Bodily odor and the scent of sweat filled Lorelai¡¯s nostrils as the crowd aimed their feet in her direction. Explaining the unknown always earned the human¡¯s trust. Fools. They thought so linearly, so predictably, one more accuser and the crowd would be hers. Speak now Tristan, how could you forget?

    ¡°I forgot about that, how could I forget? She was gone for three weeks.¡± Said Tristan.

    Murmerings rippled through the crowd, rumors flitted through the bone houses and every slight Ashera had ever committed was presented.

    ¡°She dyed my hair blue, I don¡¯t like blueberries!¡±

    ¡°Put a frog in ma chamber pot! The brown hopper caused a mess when I tried to take-¡±

    ¡°The wine I carried all the way from from Takioomi turned into vinegar.¡±

    ¡°She made us live in these bone huts!¡±

    ¡°-Brought us to live in cursed Ellin-¡±

    ¡°Heaven is angry with us, we¡¯ll starve if we don¡¯t punish her!¡±

    Oh you fear Heaven¡¯s wrath do you? Just wait until I¡¯m done with you. Thought Lorelai.

    ¡°When was the last time anyone saw Loki?¡± Asked Lorelai.

    Her question was the silent moment between ocean waves when the sand appeared solid, safe, only for the next wave to rush in and sweep bystanders off their feet. More murmerings, none of the seventy seven ¡®lucky¡¯ survivors had ever seen Loki. Aside from Tristan and Lorelai, who were remaining conspicuously silent. Ashera had naturally introduced her husband and best friend to her god, but Loki was too minor a god to waste his time proselytizing those who did not already know his name.

    ¡°Ashera has forsaken her humanity and become a witch. We must redeem her soul in the manner the Inquisition has approved.¡± Said Tristan, dropping the parts of Aleyander.

    ¡°Tristan! You can¡¯t!-¡±

    ¡°Shut up Vesper. Don¡¯t make this harder than it already is.¡± Tristan spat.

    A discussion broke out amongst the villagers, the inquisition required that they burn witches at the stake, a ritual that required more wood than they had. Rational men and women bent to Lorelai once more, in the Keresh Desert -where there was no wood- the Reaver generals had crucified witches, beheading them a week after their deaths. Once a year the bodies would be taken to the edge of Biwako Lake and burned in accordance with the Inquisition¡¯s bylaws. More villagers joined the discussion, more than fifty people were here now. New people brought new thoughts, kindling new arguments, what would they use as Ashera¡¯s cross?

    ¡°We have plenty of wood.¡± Said Lorelai, knocking on the single wooden structure in town.

    They had erected it in Ashera¡¯s honor, sculpted by the resident artisan Nerus; it towered a full two feet above the squat bone huts, a metaphysical and imposing central pillar for the community to gather around. Nerus¡¯ way of manifesting Ashera¡¯s role in his art.

    ¡°After what she pushed out, its meaning has changed. From celebration of our prophet to a mockery of our trust. Ha, one last mischief. Fitting in a way.¡± Mused Nerus, stroking the half shaven stubble on his chin.

    ¡°No matter what we decide, the statue will have to come down. Oh damn, it pains me to see my art twisted so violently, but I would rather see it put to use one last time than discarded to rot.¡± Nerus said.

    A dozen craftsmen nodded in agreeance with Nerus¡¯ words, leaving him to contemplate the months it had taken to sculpt the statue. Months of his evenings and mornings had been spent sculpting the wood, bone splintering work that could only be performed after he tended to his meager fields. A joyous labor after the backbreaking serfdom of farming. Ellin Forest was nothing like Takioomi, he had patrons in the city, noble men who saw his worth and paid him for his art. Nothing Like Ashera. She had slapped his face, dulled his chisels, and ignited his muse. Making his soul blaze with the mood that all art required. And now she would die in the same dreary woods that stole the beauty from his quintessence.

    Tristan clapped his hands, gathering the attention of the onlookers. ¡°Ashera has lied to us, she has carried a cambion for eleven long months. We¡­ The responsibility of executing her falls on us. Remember Takioomi, if we allow a single demon to live then it is only a matter of time before it damns us all. Show your willing hands if you accept my judgment.¡±

    Sixty six hands reluctantly rose into the air, representing the vast majority of the town and their unilateral will to survive. Ashera was going to die. Vesper¡¯s hand remained firmly at her side, a silent confession of her corruption and a blaring horn warning that she was going to cause trouble.

    ¡°Rowan, Vesper, go get her. Jude, find a beam, and Lorelai¡­ Get some nails, she may have enough power left to break out of rope-¡±

    ¡°Tristan, what are you saying? You aren¡¯t really going to¡­¡± Began Vesper, voice trailing off as she looked around the crowd. ¡°Ashera saved us all. How can you let this happen?! This doesn¡¯t make any sense! Why would she save us from the city only to turn around and betray us?¡± Gasped Vesper, the wind in her lungs suddenly gone.

    Jude and Nerus traded worried glances, as if this was the first time they considered Ashera¡¯s innocence. Lorelai came between them, her touch stiffening more than their backbones. Something Tristan failed to notice, or worse, didn¡¯t care about.

    ¡°Demons do whatever makes us suffer most. You¡¯ve seen it before, they kill single men and women without a second thought, but someone with a family. Suddenly they are reasonable, they¡¯ll listen to you, they might even stop hurting you long enough to find your family. Then they are your best friend, right up until they torture your husband and child to death. Demons are immortal, so letting us live for a few years was probably nothing more to them than raising a yearling for the slaughter. Or baking a pie.¡± Lorelai opined.

    Nerus, Tristan, and Jude nodded, the crowd blindly followed their example.

    Like lambs to the slaughter.

 Chapter 5 No Rest for the Accused

    If Loki himself was outside Ashera¡¯s bone house, she would not have given a single fuck. She just wanted to sleep. Never in her life had she felt this tired. Her insides felt like they had been pulverized with a fifteen pound sledgehammer then split open with a rusty spork. Muscles ached, protesting no matter how she lay on the bed, as if she had just fought a hundred thralls in a no ¡®hold¡¯s barred¡¯ wrestling match covered in coconut oil. Every fiber and tendon within her had been worked to the straining point. Her crotch felt like a nest of fire ants had moved in and were doing their best imitation of rabbits in heat.

    Then the pounding started.

    A rosy dusk settled over their nameless town, silencing Ellin Forest like a guillotine. But not the pounding. Someone was just outside her house clanging solid metal bars against each other. Sounds like golems trying to procreate. What a racket! Hey, just cause I¡¯m pregnant doesn¡¯t mean that you can steal a march and overthrow the Lady of Mischief!

    Ashera tried to stand, pain shot through her legs, gut, and back before her feet ever touched the ground. A million needles ran up her toes like a thousand angry honey badgers, overloading her senses as the weight of her legs dragged her onto the floor. Unfortunately she lacked the strength to rise, resigning herself to sleep on the dirt floor.

    Her eyes fluttered shut, closing despite her orders to stay open.

    BANG BANG BANG

    I¡¯m going to murder whoever is banging out there. Ashera thought, fading into a blood loss induced stupor.

    Rowan found her on the floor, his voice sounded distant and fuzzy, like looking at the sun through ten feet of water. There was no mistaking that the sun was in fact there, but it was blurry, dim, shifting with the ebb and flow of the waves. People materialized around them, her family.

    ¡°Where is Aleyander?¡±

    Muddled voices answered her. Vesper¡¯s sweet voice among them. Something ephemeral bordered her tone making her sound unusual, like it did not fit a conversation about an infant. Vesper pressed something warm to Ashera¡¯s lips, going by the scent of bare feet and grass it was one of her home remedies. Fortune smiled as Ashera sipped, finding the liquid to be predominantly flavorless except for a slight twinge of sulfur.

    Her world sharpened, all five senses cranking into overdrive. Every scratch, scrape, and bruise caught fire. Whatever was in the potion kicked the nether-region-honey-badgers that she had almost been able to forget. Now they were on the warpath, kicking and clawing¨C

    Matching Ashera¡¯s screams with howls of their own.

    ¡°Damnit man! Silence the witch!¡±

    A dozen pairs of hands touched Ashera, making her scream as coarse hands covered her face. Then her nose. She kicked out, trying to make them work, but a broken pelvis sent her kicks in odd directions, landing on people she did not know and could not see. Something hooked her tongue, piercing through it¡¯s center. Caught fast they pulled the muscle out of her mouth.

    ¡°Uck oo! Mm mott a wwfsssshh¡±

    The hook slipped, cutting into her tongue. Stimulant heightened pain burned Ashera¡¯s mouth, redoubling as the hook bit through her again, and again.

    ENOUGH.

    Ashera yanked her head backwards, ripping the hook out in one painful spasm. Blood filled her mouth, muffling her cry. Enemies ¨Cmost likely thralls¨C had infiltrated their home, she needed to get out of their reach. Throughout her life Ashera had been injured far worse, healing magic would fix her tongue, she just needed to get Aleyander and get out of the forest.

    A man loomed in front of her vision, hands cranked her neck, leveraging her hair to painfully knot her so she had to look up at the man. It might have been Nerus, stimulants or not, her eyes refused to focus on anything except the thin gleam of steel. It grew larger as it approached her right eye. Growing ever larger. Ashera jerked as it touched her eyelid.

    She tried to scream ¡®STOP IT¡¯ but her newly forked tongue only managed to drool blood. Scarlet spit oozed down her front. A vile deterrent that did nothing to slow the metal spoon as it squelched between her eye and eyelid. Ashera screamed, a primal howl of agony as someone rotated the spoon around her eyeball. Brute force tore through the eyelid and muscles that moved the eye. She wailed louder than a banshee¨C

    ¨Cin vain.

    She felt and saw the eyeball detach, her vision abruptly halved as the optical nerve was severed and she caught a glimpse of something spherical through her remaining eye. The spoon man flipped his tool, depositing the eyeball in a bowl before¨C

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    ¨CAshera blinked, not believing her eye¡ª Did he just¡­ Lick the spoon?

    What the fuck is going on!?!

    A fist connected with spoon-man¡¯s face, the fist was attached to a giant, someone so large it could only be Rowan. Ashera¡¯s mind raced, was the village under attack? She needed to run, no- find Aleyander then run.

    Steel glinted again, this time it flashed in a single smooth stroke, one Ashera had seen tens of thousands of times. Tristan¡¯s blade slashed through Rowan¡¯s neck with a ssshhh-tttcccchhhiinnggg sound. Pink mist stung Ashera¡¯s eye.

    Thud.

    His head rolled across the grass. Shouts of surprise erupted, the hands holding Ashera dwindled as her captors scattered. Finally! Tristan was here to save her. Had a demon borrowed Rowan¡¯s face? That must be what happened. A demon had infiltrated the town¡ª

    A shriek of unbridled lament rose from the earth, stretching into the heavens to beg for intervention.

    Ashera felt the shriek in her lungs. It was the sound she wished she could bring into the world. Someone was suffering just like her, one of her family needed her. Tapping into her soul she found her mana drained, utterly expended.

    I¡¯ll fight without mana then. Ashera twisted in her captor¡¯s arms grasping towards any belt buckle her eye would focus on.

    Her fingers found the rod she was looking for, tightening on the pommel of a dagger. Magic had always been Ashera¡¯s first weapon. And her second weapon. And usually her third weapon. But mana ran dry, depleting as it was used. A powerful ability that required one to use it sparingly. Enhancing a blade was more efficient than a fireball or an illusory specter. So Ashera at least knew which end of a blade went in the bad guy.

    The dagger yanked upwards clearing the captor¡¯s scabbard before Ashera plunged it downward with all her post-birth strength. The man yelped as the dagger sank a half inch into his flesh, a superficial wound he quickly avenged himself of. One hand caught Ashera¡¯s wrist, squeezing it until her bones cracked sending electric rods through her arm. The dagger fell free, and the man pressed it into Ashera¡¯s fingers.

    ¡°Listen here cunt, I¡¯ll teach you to stab me!¡± He growled into her ear.

    Speaking in time with the blade sawing through her fingers. Ashera screamed with every molecule of sanity she still clung to, managing a very respectable gurgle. One that was cut off when a blue haired head rolled across the grass and knocked against her own skull.

    Blindsided by the head it took Ashera a moment to recover, a moment that saw her fingers leave one hand. When she did, her vision clouded with tears, Vesper¡¯s head lay near Rowan¡¯s neck, a macabre display that twisted her heart into knots. Salt stung her eye socket.

    Ashera broke.

    She slumped forward, planting her forehead into the dirt. Dominate eye missing, pelvis and legs broken, fingers on her primary hand severed, magic depleted, and pinned. Ashera wept.

    And wept.

    And wept.

    Til there were no more tears to weep. At least she had just given birth, she would be unusable for the things demons often began their tortures with. Like they did with Jude. If only I had been there a day earlier. If only Lorelai had broken me out of prison a single day sooner. That is my only regret. Ashera looked up, trying to focus on what was going around her.

    Ashera Thorne¡¯s remaining eye widened at the sight of Tristan and Jude crossing a wooden beam with the statue of her. She had asked Nerus to carve the statue for Loki, anointing the town as his chosen refuge, but somewhere in the offing he had changed muses, carving it in her image. Lorelai had convinced her it was fine, one statue amongst the nine hundred and ninety nine statues or tokens that Nerus had carved for Loki would be acceptable. After all, this village was Ashera¡¯s village and she was Loki¡¯s champion. Honouring Ashera, honoured Loki.

    Jude lifted the crossbeam into position while Tristan drove an iron spike through it, piercing the beam and statue right where Ashera¡¯s heart would be.

    BANG BANG BANG

    The statue that bore her likeness was about to become a cross. Lorelai -The woman Ashera¡¯s once called her dearest friend- appeared beside them, carrying a dozen more iron spikes. Each of the rusty spikes were as long as Ashera¡¯s forearm, too large for any rational work. Although, there was no forge in the village, nor charcoal to power it.

    They must have been purposely forged for this sole task, rusty with age... How long ago had those been forged, no, how long had they been planning for this day? Ashera could not believe what her single eye told her, she had been loyal, faithful. Why was her family turning on her? Ashera shivered, gagging and heaving a wad of bloody spit onto the dirt. They were going to kill her, execute her in the style of the Legendary Reavers. Damnit all, why couldn¡¯t they just behead her like the fucking Inquisition would. How did it come to this? Her life flashed before her eyes, memories inundating her mind as she sought the answer¡­

    Ashera could not feel the hands that lifted her onto the cross, but she would never forget the sensation of having iron spiked driven through her palms and wrists. She couldn¡¯t feel her legs, an infinitesimal mercy.

    Throughout the nailing, Ashera repeated one question.

    ¡°Where is Aleyander?¡±

    If anyone understood her slurred speech they did nothing to respond, leaving her broken body to hang on the cross.

    Where she remained for the next two days.

    An hour after she was first crucified, night fell, leaving her thoughts to haunt her. Imagined shapes swam through the darkness, forever ephemeral yet always terrifying. Shadows took the form of dozens of prowling wolves. Their fangs glistening with saliva at the prospect of a tender woman left out in the sun to dry for them.

    Ashera couldn¡¯t be bothered with fear. Sorrow seeped into her core, fermenting into hate.

    The ¡®Why¡¯ of her crucifiction warped into a voracious ¡®Where¡¯. Hatred abhorred distractions, cleansing them from her mind. All she needed to know was where they had taken Aleyander. That question became her pole star, the goal of what little life remained within her, so she held on. Throughout the night Ashera found the will to lift herself, remaining upright so she could breath. Crucifixion was once known as the most painful way to die, a rumor brought on by onlookers who watched people die of thirst on a cross after the first day.

    Those were the lucky ones. Crucifixion¡¯s modus operandi was to contort the body so the executed would have to use their legs to stand, pushing their bare bones against iron nails for every breath of air. Try to sleep on the cross? Your lungs would pinch and your body would naturally wake you, saving you from a quiet exit and safeguarding a slow death by suffocation. Brought about when your muscles finally cramped and failed from exhaustion or dehydration.

    The dawn sun rose behind Ashera illuminating the village and the carnage of the previous day. Vesper and Rowan had been moved, their bodies rolled into rages and dragged away before lunch, a fact that Ashera hardly noticed. For the rising sun had shown her the mauled gibbets of a baby. They had done what heaven required of them, dismembering the cambion and beheading it. They should have burned the corpse, but that was life in Ellin Forest.

    Black hornes

    Red skin

    Cloven feet

    It wasn¡¯t possible. Ashera had been loyal, Tristan was the only man she had ever been with, how. No, it had to be someone else¡¯s. Haven had been pregnant! The cambion must be hers. Thought Ashera, not believing her own lie. Haven had lost her child weeks ago, Vesper had buried it while Ashera comforted the woman.

    Loki, save him. Forget about me, any life I have left, take it! Give me the truth about Aleyander. That, that THING can¡¯t be him!

    No answer came.

 Chapter 6 Eternal Torment is Spelled with Now

    Loki did not weave mischief amongst the demons, Ashera knew that. He was a god, a being on a different level to demons, yet he was a minor god whose powers had dwindled over the millenia. So Ashera hung, an ugly waif of a scarecrow. A day passed, with villagers coming and going, none daring to meet her eye, Haven even went so far as to cover her eyes and walk behind Ashera, the coward.

    Although, she was not the only one. Others walked behind Ashera, their whispered steps coming and going, leaving behind a tickle of eyes stalking the back of her neck. As if a guardian was watching her from sunup to sundown. An hour before sunset she caught the watcher, leaning her head forward and slumping on the cross -cutting off her air- she feigned death until she heard footsteps approaching from behind. The world began to blur as her air went stale. Lungs burned, but she had to know. The footsteps grew louder but came at slower intervals. The watcher was slowing down even as they approached, damn it, they were being cautious. Ashera wanted to scream. She could only hold her breath for a few more seconds. Another footstep landed on the dry grass, then silence. Ashera couldn¡¯t wait any longer.

    Pushing with her shins she stood on the nails through her feet, her bones shifted, shrieking in agony as they were abused, used in ways they had never been designed for. Hands and wrists joined the protest, screaming for Ashera to stop, to relax, to settle down and die. But she had to know. Pulling with all her remaining strength she twisted on the cross, looking over her shoulder with the one good eye she had left she found the third to last person she ever would have expected.

    Jude was the watcher. Her smile faded as she saw Ashera¡¯s eye. A flash of fury crossed Jude¡¯s face, making her eyes twitch with jealous hatred. Her reaction left Ashera stunned, why was her older sister angry? Did she want her to die? Jude¡¯s face calmed, a thin smile returning as she spun on her foot and retreated. Ashera recognized that smile, it was the smile of satisfaction Jude wore when a job was finished. The smile she wore after getting paid.

    Jude was happy to see her suspended on the cross, happy to see her younger sister¡¯s execution. The duration of her suffering was like a baker¡¯s dozen, or a thirteenth coin in a job that paid eleven. A cherry on top.

    ¡°Juuuu¡± was all Ashera¡¯s parched lips could manage.

    A fruitless groan that sent Jude retreating out of sight, back to her hiding place directly behind Ashera¡¯s cross. Twist however she liked, Jude was beyond her sight, effectively invisible to the one eyed, crucified. Had her tongue remained intact, Ashera would have been struck dumb. Jude was stronger than her in every way, taller, curvier, stronger, even her hair was thicker, a glorious mane of silk that inspired every hair dying mischief Ashera had ever done. Why was she happy to see Ashera die? Jude had beat her to a family! She had an easy nine month pregnancy and a healthy baby!

    Before the demons found her¡­

    Ashera felt her strength fade with the evening dusk. Her search for Aleyander was the only thing keeping her alive, her legs screamed everytime she stood, and her arms twisted like she was breaking her wrists each time she hung on the arm nails to give her legs a momentary rest. Her time would come soon.

    Night settled on the town once more, clearing the village of Jude and any other bystanders. Distant howling echoed through Ellin forest, a portent of wolves or Lycanthropes. Ashera wasn¡¯t sure which beast would be worse in her present condition, wolves would tear apart her legs, killing her via suffocation. While a lycan would be unpredictable. Half human and half beast the lycanthropes were erratic children of the deity known in Oathinao as ¡°The Huntress¡±. One of the few deities who grew in strength after Heaven and Hell brought their war to Earth. As patroness of all mothers the Huntress should have received Ashera¡¯s prayers and tribute and as Loki¡¯s champion Ashera had felt it was wrong to pay homage to her.

    Ashera hung her head in shame. Why had she refused to honor the Huntress while she was pregnant? No matter their station or standing within the Seraphim, all Seraphs gave the Huntress her due. Why had Ashera Let Lorelai talk her out of honoring the Matriarch of mothers?

    Silence carpeted the world, the wolves must have caught wind of other prey. Condemning Ashera to one more night wondering where Aleyander was. Tristan was alive, he had not been among the slain so Aleyander had his father to count on, but she had not heard a baby cry. With how silent the village had been, she should have heard a baby cry.

    Ashera focused on the pile of drying flesh that had once been a cambion. Two black horns protruded from his split skull, she had healed a long slash through her canal earlier. NO. It wasn¡¯t possible. That thing could not- was NOT her Aleyander.

    ¡°My dear Ashera, stop lying to yourself.¡± Said a voice through the darkness.

    Ashera tried to raise her head. And failed. Exhaustion controlled her body, surviving the crucifixion had become a perpetual cycle of standing on nails to breath then hanging on the nails so her legs could endure another cycle. Thirty hours into the cycle it was engrained into her psyche, devolving into a base compulsion akin to breathing. If breathing was as painful as inhaling acid and exhaling lava.

    Laughter tinkled across the night. ¡°I see, a pity you are so weak. Surprising really, why would Loki pick a weakling like you?¡±

    There was no refuting who the voice belonged to now. Ashera knew that voice, it was as close to her as Tristan¡¯s, and one she had heard more than her own.

    Lorelai circumnavigated the cross, coming to stand in front of Ashera so their eyes could meet. In that second Ashera understood everything, Jude¡¯s envy, Spoon man licking his spoon, Ephraim¡¯s uncaring absence, Tristan not coming to save her, and the identity of the cambion¡¯s dismembered and beheaded body.

    Her eyes were luminous with red fire and yellow irises. Her pupil was black, an abyss within the fires of her forsaken soul. Lorelai was a demon, and not just any imp or crossroads demon, she was one of the Nightmother¡¯s Lilin. A greater demon known to entice the faithful against their wills and drag them to hell.

    ¡°Oh my, you are a smart one. Lorelai wasn¡¯t half as clever as you are. Haha¡± Lorelai said, laughing softly as she read Ashera¡¯s mind.

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    I¡¯ll kill you.

    ¡°Oh you will? Ha ha ha, don¡¯t make me laugh. You¡¯re already dead. The blood I mixed into Vespers potion is the only thing keeping you alive. Tragically,¡± She sighed heavily, mocking sorrow with a smile that returned instantly. ¡°My blood is about to run out, so we only have a little time to chat.¡±

    I¡¯ll kill you. Kill me, break my body, drag me to hell, I don¡¯t care. I will find a way to kill you.

    Lorelai stepped forward, coming close enough that Ashera recoiled from her hellish body heat. A red hand caressed her cheek, black talons in place of fingernails.

    ¡°My precious Ashera, Loki never deserved you. If only you had devoted yourself to a worthy god, like High Lord Valerian or Emperor Ansit our positions might be inverted. I might be nailed to a blackwood cross with you gloating over my corpse.¡±

    I¡¯ll kill you bitch. What is your name?

    ¡°Don¡¯t you recognize your dearest friend? The one you shared your husband with?¡±

    Ashera''s heart splintered and cracked, she had invited her dearest friend into their bed. A purely platonic exercise to combat life in Ellin forest. Without wood they only had body heat to keep warm, and sleeping in groups was a common practice ¨Cbut only sleeping¨C nothing more intimate.

    She did not know when, or why, or how, but she knew with the certainty of death, that the succubus in front of her had seduced Tristan. A terrible thought intruded, Jude¡¯s smile, her older sister¡¯s delight at watching Ashera¡¯s crucifixion.

    ¡°You really had something special with him. Tristan held out for months, you see, the blight limits my powers so I had to seduce him the old fashioned way. Blaming you for every mischief that went too far, even when I was the one who put that snake in his chamberpot. Blueberry tea with a hint of hemlock? Add my blood and triple the hemlock so it feels like you are suffocating for hours. Because you are. Hahaha!¡±

    Give me your name bitch. That way I¡¯ll know which demon to kill.

    Lorelai¡¯s giggles grew until she was roaring with laughter in the midnight shadows. Unconcerned if she was heard. She had no reason to fear intervention, Loki¡¯s Lucky Seventy Seven had been culled to Lorelai¡¯s Sentenced Sixty Six. Aside from Ashera every soul in the village had been damned beyond repentance.

    ¡°Jude fell so easily, after I killed her family in front of her it only took a little sodomy to bring out the worst in her. I know you can¡¯t fathom it, but she really hates you. Something small, like a misremembered line as your parent¡¯s last words was enough to break her. Haha, but Ephraim, well. If you do somehow manage to get off that cross, you¡¯ll see what happened to your darling little brother.¡±

    This wasn¡¯t just a random demon, this succubus had been hunting Ashera, toying with her family like a cat plays with mice, breaking their legs then letting them crawl out of sight. Just barely far enough away that the mouth thought they might have a chance of escaping, ¨C

    ¨Conly to have the cat pull them out of hiding and break another leg.

    Jude¡¯s scars, those on her face and uterus were from this demon.

    I¡¯ll kill you. No matter if it takes me ten thousand years I will find a way out of heaven. I will come back and kill you.

    Lorelai chuckled. ¡°I had planned to not tell you my name, let you rot in heaven never knowing which demon took everything you loved and damned it. Oh how delicious would that be!¡± Moaned the demon in Lorelai¡¯s skin. ¡°Tormenting a soul in heaven, what a rare treat.¡±

    Her hand snaked around Ashera¡¯s face, grasping her hair with a taloned hand. Lorelai pressed her scalding lips against Ashera¡¯s, kissing her like she had kissed Tristan. Her tongue forced Ashera¡¯s teeth apart, the demonic member far stronger than anything she had ever felt before.

    Ashera wanted to die.

    Or kill this bitch. She bit down with all her strength hoping to bite off the tongue in her mouth. Crucifixion had stolen her strength and the bite did no harm, eliciting a chuff from Lorelai. It was hopeless, the demon was stronger than Ashera had ever been, she was a mountain of power that Ashera could never hope to rival. Resistance was pointless, futile even, the demon would torment her then kill her. There was no escape.

    So Ashera spit in her mouth.

    Using her own tongue she spat blood and phlegm into the succubus¡¯ stupid face, her own human tongue split on the demon¡¯s forked tendril, bleeding into her mouth. The taste of metal filled their mouths making Lorelai break contact.

    She swallowed the blood. Ashera worked her spit into a wad and spat it at Lorelai, but her strength was gone. The bloody wad dribbled from her mouth, failing to cross the one foot distance between their faces.

    ¡°Ha ha ha! A blood offering? You really shouldn¡¯t have, dear Ashera.¡±

    Ashera¡¯s heart stopped, what had she said? A blood offering¡­ Her eye widened in terror as she realized what Lorelai had tricked her into.

    ¡°Oh yes my dear darling Lady of Ashes. I accept your offer, my true name is Gevurah, when you kill me be sure to shout it loud enough for heaven to hear. If your pain is greater than my malice, they might even help you kill me.¡± Taunted Lorelai.

    A soul for a name¡­ Fine, kill me now. When you do, I''ll drag you to hell alongside me.

    ¡°No no no! That won¡¯t do at all. There is more I have to show you, more mischief to play on you.¡±

    Lorelai¡¯s talon gripped Ashera¡¯s throat, gently squeezing hard enough to stop all air and blood. The world faded. Rapidly darkening into nothing.

    Ashera¡¯s darkened mind felt the hand release, felt her hair rise, then fall. This time only half her hair returned. Something cold and hard wandered up Ashera¡¯s shirt, followed by scalding knuckles. Ashera gasped for air still unable to breath, unable to think for want of oxygen.

    Burning fingertips found her areola and pulled them outward, the cold steel sawed sideways. Pain should have made Ashera scream, but she truly was dead. Her mind was trapped in a body whose heart would never beat again. Lorelai severed her right breast, then her left breast, adding them to the pile of gibbets that was Aleyander.

    ¡°Yes Ashera, look at me, look at your son. I really outdid myself with his mischief. Remember all those times I felt your stomach? Remember how hard he would kick? That¡¯s because I was teaching him the meaning of pain while he was within you. I was careful not to taint his soul, that would only ease your suffering when he died. Ha ha, he was pure hearted and could have been a blessed child. Now look at him, look at your child and know that it was his father who killed him. Chopped his guiltless son into pieces all because of how he looked. Had Aleyander-¡±

    Don''t you dare speak his name whore.

    Lorelai repeated herself, enjoying every second of her mockery. ¡°Had Aleyander lived, he would have been greater than you or Tristan, he was lucky, a paragon who inherited only the best of your magic, and Tristan¡¯s Seraphic genes. Add the forge of my hellfire and he truly would have been a special being. Greater than any Seraph to walk the earth.¡±

    Ashera had never hated anyone more than she hated Lorelai in that moment. Ten thousand deaths would not have been enough to torment the succubus, but it would be a good start. She needed power it did not matter where it came from, she would accept anything for the sake of punishing the demon who had corrupted her family. So she prayed.

    For the second time in her life she prayed to every god.

    I need power, give me the power to slay the succubus Gevurah and I will pay any price, take my life, my soul, it matters not. I will give anything, do anything for the power to kill Gevurah.

    Within the royal palace of Quar, the Nightmother heard her prayer and smiled. A prayer as sincere as Ashera¡¯s deserved an answer, few souls in heaven or hell could speak with pure commitment. It would take time to grant her wish, but plans laid are plans fulfilled, and she had centuries to work. She extended her hand, plucking the strings of destiny.

    In a nearby cottage, Loki heard Ashera¡¯s plea and all thoughts of mischief faded from his heart. How did it come to this? He thought, standing.

    For the second time in her memory, Ashera died. Her final thoughts of vengeance against the lying whore. Little did she know, she would suffer that prayer for the next four hundred years of her new existence.

 CHAPTER 7 Undeath

    Ashera¡¯s body went limp as the last traces of Lorelai/Geruvah¡¯s demonic blood were consumed, burned in the furnace of her dead soul for a few more minutes of human suffering. Lorelai watched her fade from the world with a grin full of obsidian fangs, enjoying every picosecond of pain she saw.

    When her suffering finally ended, Ashera found herself in a state of nothingness. She did not breathe, she could not move, could not smell, or taste, but she could see. Through one unfocused eye Ashera could view the world.

    Geruvah shifted her form, red skin fading to an even olive tone. As pristine as a newborn¡¯s. Black talons faded to perfectly manicured nails that were fit for a queen. Hellish red eyes faded, losing their luminescence and returning to the eyes of her best friend, a best friend who had died and fermented into the implement of her woe. Black horns with sharp ridges shrank into Lorelai¡¯s hair, vanishing under the curtain of auburn.

    Black horns identical to Aleyander¡¯s.

    Lorelai produced a small barrel of brine and vinegar, a pickling solution used to preserve meats. Without a second of hesitation Lorelai placed Ashera¡¯s severed breasts and Aleyander¡¯s remains in the brine, beginning the process of aging her flesh. Dead Ashera Thorne couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t scream; she could only watch as the traitor carried her bits away.

    ¡°A challenge for Balorian. Serve this to Tristan without telling him what it is. Let¡¯s see if we can get him to finish his plate and ask for seconds.¡± Whispered Lorelai, more to herself than anyone else.

    Balorian Lysandro was the best cook in the Lucky Seventy Seven, a man with talent to spare. His culinary imagination knew no bounds. Ashera once joked he could make dirt into a delectable dish, provided he had enough spices and time to work his craft. Before the siege of Takioomi he had been the mayor¡¯s personal chef, but as the siege drained their food stores the mayor grew dissatisfied with his ever more repetitive vittles. A chef¡¯s bane that concluded with him trapped in the dungeon alongside Ashera.

    One more soul for Lorelai¡¯s insatiable thirst, corrupting the chef with new ingredients, forbidden flavors acquired through taboo deeds.

    I¡¯ll kill her.

    Dawn saw the sun rise on Ellin Forest casting pleasing rays across Ashera¡¯s carcass. One by one the villagers came to see her remains, some paid their respects, others muttered curses under their breath. A final nail in the crucifixion of the woman who they once called their savior. Champion of Loki¡¯s faithful. Ashera bore witness to it all. For her soul refused to depart her mortal scaffold. One villager moved into view, taking up a stance across from Ashera and remaining there as others came and went. Hours passed, the funeral procession diminished to nothing, yet still the woman stood across from Ashera.

    Ashera willed her body to move, willed her eye to focus, or a finger to twitch. An unachievable feat given her deceased frame.

    This isn¡¯t how death is supposed to feel. Is dying somehow different here? I have magic now¡­ If I can generate mana I can get off this cross.

    Dusk crept across the forest, chasing humans and animals into their dens. Shadows wrapped the world in darkness revealing the watcher¡¯s identity. Jude was watching Ashera rot.

    Oh Jude, what did she do to you? I¡¯ve always loved you, how can you hate me?

    Howls ended any further thoughts, no doubt these were hellhounds summoned by Lorelai to drag Ashera¡¯s damned soul to hell, a testament to the futility of Ashera¡¯s oath. Hiding her soul inside her corpse had saved her for a day, an admirable effort, one that few could ever hope to emulate, yet it was in vain. Hell claimed souls. It was a truth as sure as the sun rising each morning and setting every evening. An eclipse confused the servants of evil, but only for a moment, a human day, and Ashera¡¯s eclipse had ended.

    Lorelai came to join Jude, her normal loose fitting shirt and pants replaced by a bulky gambeson and old breastplate. Jude briefly left her vigil, returning to the cacophony of howling with her own armor and naked blade.

    The howling grew closer, echoing louder with every second and rousing the village. Men and women carried furniture, doors, tables, beds, even a basin of water across the village green. The clatter of bones mixed with the rattle of spines, telling Ashera they were building a barricade of bone furniture ¨Cincluding the rib cage cradle meant for Aleyander¨C in front of the largest hut in town. She couldn¡¯t see the building, but knew the plan, after all she had written it. Had spent hours discussing it with Tristan and Lorelai. Ashera wanted to smile, their plan was for a handful of wolves, two or three, certainly no more than five. They were going to fail, people were about to die and all she could think about was how satisfying Lorelai¡¯s death would be. Ashera would gladly die if the hellhounds dragged Lorelai to hell alongside her, eternal torment was a fair tax for Lorelai¡¯s destruction.

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    From her vantage on the cross she was the first to see the wolves moving in the underbrush, slinking from tree to tree. Their brown coats camouflaging their invasion. Disappointment welled in her rent bosom, wolves were not hellhounds, no matter how many there were, Lorelai ¨Cno, the demon Geruvah¨C could kill them.

    One long howl echoed through the world trailing off into silence. No further howls interrupted the peace, leaving the singular order to reverberate through the pack, a deep sigh of life before they plunged their fangs into the unsuspecting flesh of the hunted. Distant shadows manifest into Lycanthropes, wolves larger than horses, pack leaders who inherited the Huntress¡¯ ferocity. These were her fangs, her fearless demon hunters, the grandchildren of divinity.

    Kill her. Kill the succubus.

    Lorelai took Ashera¡¯s position at the center of a defensive circle, serendipitously in the center of Ashera¡¯s unfocused vision. Four swordsmen formed an inner circle around her, with a larger circle of spearmen forming around them.

    Fools. Without me at the center you pulled from the inner circle where Rowan and Vesper should be, you¡¯re playing chess without your King or Bishops. You can¡¯t respond to more than one breach of the outer circle with only four swordsmen and spearmen can¡¯t handle lycans. That¡¯s it Lorelai, come to hell with me. Be a good whore and die.

    An hour passed in silence. Human ears straining to find the whispering wolves in the dark. Claws raked against dry bones, the wolves were searching the huts, just like pillaging huns.

    ¡°They¡¯re going for our boar!¡± Groaned a spearman.

    ¡°Stay in formation! Idiot!¡±

    His spear dipped as he stepped forward, breaking the spearwall. Jude caught the mistake a second too late. Three wolves howled on the far side of the circle making the inner circle spin, along with the out of position spearman. He should have known better. The howl was a distraction, and a signal for the wolves to attack.

    A Dozen shadows darted forward, dark hides appearing from the shadows of huts, darting around buildings, one wolf emerged from behind Ashera¡¯s cross, using her body as cover. Six spears thrust true, slaying six wolves, three spear points stabbed the air, missing their lupine targets but driving them back. Two wolves ducked the spears and found a way inside the circle. Fangs found ankles and backpedaled.

    A Lycan ¨Cfaster and stronger¨C caught the spearman who had broken their ranks, the man whose folly broke their defensive line. Lycanthropic teeth found the inept man¡¯s throat, biting through his neck and spine in a single voracious chomp. Jude dashed forward, slashing her sword in a wide hack. A feint meant to sever the Lycan¡¯s hand. It tossed the beheaded body in her direction. A blood-screen for its escape. On its way out of the circle its spine seemed to hunch, legs and arms extending in unholy angles to take hold of the tripped man.

    A captive soul to match the slain humans.

    ¡°Help me! Heeeellllpppp meeee¨C¡± He wailed.

    Tristan moved faster than the others, rescuing the second tripped man with a punch that shattered the wolf¡¯s spine. Even knowing he had killed Aleyander, had slept with Lorelai, had betrayed her in every conceivable way, Ashera was drawn to him. The raw power displayed made her quiver.

    Though it did nothing for the shrieking spearmen, whose voice cut off as if a book had been slammed shut. One wolf killed, for two humans slain.

    ¡°Tighten the circle! Close ranks! They are only beasts, feed them with their own kin! Let them eat their own.¡± Shouted Lorelai.

    Men and women scrambled, taking their eyes off the shadows for a split second that invited the Lycans. Before the circle could be reformed a half dozen humans fell, spines snapped, throats torn out, or dismembered by Lycan claws. The Huntress blessed her grandchildren with many powers, regeneration was always prime amongst them, but strength and speed were granted in spades. Each of the dogs was stronger than Tristan and faster than a whirlwind.

    Dozens of feints picked apart the spearmen, dragging them into the death of darkness. Four Lycans charged the circle of spears, throwing their bodies headlong into the spear points. Driving the tips deeply into their flesh. Wolves followed behind. Without spears to fear they tackled the men and women, knocking them to the ground and dragging them off by the ankles.

    Separated from the others a lone human -armored or not- was quickly torn apart by the waiting pack. They took their feet first, crippling their prey, then they took their time. Slowly gnawing through hands or gaps in the armor. Those who fought back received a merciful death when the wolves tore out their throats.

    The Lycans were winning, and not just barely eeking out a victory, this was a massacre. Tristan¡¯s eyes fell on Ashera¡¯s and through the darkness she heard his curse.

    ¡°You damned whore.¡± He spat.

    Me? I¡¯m the whore? So Lorelai owns you now, body, mind, and soul.

    Fuck you Tristan.

    You killed our son, you cheated on me! I was faithful, I carried our son while you were off fucking the real whore. I bet those hunting trips with Rowan were just cover for your trysts. Damn me? No, Damn you.

    What did it even matter? The wolves would tear through the humans soon, then the non combatants hiding in the shed would die. All the leaders were out here, fighting for their lives.

    Claws scratched against bones. Ashera had been hearing that sound throughout the night. A woman¡¯s voice cried out in anguish, and the Lycan¡¯s plan was revealed. The hunting pack had been a distraction, one more feint. Their success against the spearmen was not planned, could not be counted on. They had only wanted to buy time so they could dig into the shed with the juicy villagers.

    Human screams pierced the darkness.

    Dozens of paws thundered behind Ashera as wolves cracked open the once bony turtle and fed. For every spearman who had died, two unarmed and unarmored villagers were dragged into the night. Tender women and squishy males, farmers or cooks who were on the brink of starvation.

    That was life in Ellin forest, where the blight drained magic or your vitality.

    These wolves must have come from afar, their strength had not waned under the blight¡¯s influence. Ashera could not move, but she could see Lorelai¡¯s teeth in the darkness. She was smiling from ear to ear.

    ¡°Hold your positions! Your families have our spare weapons! They¡¯ll be fine. Hold your ground!¡± Lorelai Ordered.

    No they don¡¯t, we moved the extra spears into the shed ages ago¡­ Why lie to people who are fighting for you? Wondered Ashera.

    She added the facts, and found one plus one was equaling eleven. Something was wrong.

    Lycans attacked again, and again. Chewing the circle of spearmen into twelve warriors then into three, and finally into none. The screams from inside the bone hut peaked then began to fade as every soul within the building was slain. Five humans remained. Lorelai, Jude, Tristan, ¨CAshera tried to raise an eyebrow at the remaining two¨C Nerus, and Balorian Lysandro. The sculptor and chef were standing alongside Lorelai, taking the positions of veteran swordsmen. No wonder the circle had collapsed, without skilled warriors at the center there was no possible way to react to a breach.

 Chapter 8 The Motherâ€™s call

    Spears were excellent weapons, cheap and quick to produce, effective at piercing armor, and effective against unarmored warriors; they were the de facto weapon of the battlefield. But if one could get past the point, dive under it and stand up too close for the spearmen to wield their weapon effectively then it was worthless. A weakness that Ashera had compensated with by placing her best warriors at the center of the formation with swords. When a breach in the spearline occurred they were supposed to charge forward and close the gap, fighting with a closer ranged weapon and giving the spears time to reform. A job that neither the sculptor nor the cook could handle.

    It simply wasn¡¯t possible.

    Lorelai¡¯s eyes changed color, horns sprouted from her head and her nails shifted into the obsidian talons they had been in front of Ashera.

    ¡°No point in hiding when the unfaithful are dead.¡± Opined Lorelai.

    Scores of amber eyes turned to see the succubus, lupine minds comprehending what had goaded them to slaughter. The Nightmother, Matriarch of succubi was universally opposed to the Huntress, grandmother of all Lycanthropes. Mortal enemies who implanted their hatred in the hearts of their descendants.

    Blind rage filled the minds of the mortal wolves who charged as one body. Nearly forty wolves ¨CAshera couldn¡¯t count the exact number¨C charged the demon and four humans. It should have been a bloodbath¨C

    But no human fell.

    Nerus struck first. Dancing forward he punched a wolf square in the snout. A foolish attack for a human to make, except the wolf crumpled under the blow as if it had fallen off a cliff and landed on a brick wall. It¡¯s spine shattered, literally exploding out of it¡¯s back as the force of the punch obliterated it.

    This strength was inhuman, far greater than Tristan had ever displayed. Yet the scene repeated itself all around Lorelai, Tristan moved with greater speed than the Lycans could ever hope to match, his sword slashing and severing in a macabre dance of fur and vicera. Behind him, Jude spared a second to pray.

    ¡°Daughter of hellfire, grant me your tormenting flame so I might strike down our enemies.¡± Jude said.

    Her longsword belched hellfire, covering the blade in black flames.

    Wolves saw the fire and planted all four paws against the ground, but they had been too eager. Their momentum carried them forward, skittering across the grass. Jude¡¯s blade spared none, her forsaken power annihilated the wolves. Each stroke of her sword sent an arc of hell lancing into the night, searing through fur and flesh with wanton abandon. Nerus joined her in a duet of sycophancy, parading their new powers in front of the temptress who had granted them.

    Balorian Lysandre ¨Cthe cook¨C put them to shame. His silhouette moved faster than darkness, a nimble thrust and a wolf collapsed with its second cervical vertebra severed by a kitchen knife. The next wolf he encountered lost its eyes to a pair of salad spoons. A bruise on his cheek caught Ashera¡¯s eye, it looked like he had been punched¨C

    Spoon man was Balorian.

    Spoon man had come to slay the Lycans. Ashera was sick, she wanted to dry heave and curse as Balorian licked his salad spoons between uses, somehow delighting in the taste of lupine jelly and eyeball ichor.

    Lorelai had stolen her friends. Corrupted her family.

    I¡¯ll kill her!

    I pray to every god, angel, devil, demon, spirit, and saint in heaven, hell, earth, or any realm. Grant me the power to destroy the succubus Geruvah. No price is too great, no debt will go unpaid. By my hand or yours, destroy Geruvah.

    Red eyes focused on Ashera¡¯s remaining eye. Lorelai had heard her prayer. Midnight teeth were backlit by the fire within Lorelai¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Balorian, be a dear and put out Ashera¡¯s second eye, she has seen enough.¡± Said Lorelai in a sing-song voice.

    Balorian kicked a wolf in the neck, his foot slashing through the creature''s spine and sending its head rolling. ¡°As you wish, lady Lorelai.¡±

    Ashera didn¡¯t have time to squirm or resist. She barely had time to see the same spoon that had stolen her first eye claim her second. Just as it had happened before the spoon slid into her orbital socket, scraping sideways to sever the musculature and tendons before it levered backwards. Her eyeball slurped free. The last sense she had was lost.

    ¡°Egh. That¡¯s too bitter, but they might make a good sauce if I candy them in honey and reduce it with carrots¡­ hmm, maybe onions would be better.¡± Balorian muttered, somehow returning to the fray with a bored indifference.

    Ashera¡¯s dead body did not react, but her mind revolted. When she got off this cross, she was going to kill them all. Not just Lorelai, but cheating Tristan, envious Jude, Balorian the glutton, and Nerus the sculptor. They would all feel her vengeance.

    Blinded, she could do nothing except listen to the battle, an unprofitable venture that she could not escape. Wolves died, and soon the Lycans intervened, leading their simple minded pack away from their mortal enemy. The battle between Lycan and demon dragged on for three days and nights, immortals striving to best each other with their most potent weapons drained by the blight.

    When it was done, Asher could hear the five demons talking.

    ¡°Lady Lorelai, what now?¡± Asked Tristan.

    ¡°Take everything we can and join the siege at Juyoma. Mother has need of your suf-strength.¡± Answered Lorelai.

    ¡°What about Ephraim? We could get a sled and-¡± Jude Asked.

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

    Showing concern for our dear brother? You are one crucifixion too late for honoring our familial ties sister.

    ¡°Ephraim¡¯s destiny lies here with Ashera.¡± Said Lorelai

    A howl rose through the woods, sending shivers through the blackwood pines and shudders up forsaken spines. A second howl whispered through the world to answer the first cry.

    ¡°They are calling for reinforcements. They will come again, we must flee before they return.¡± Lorelai ordered.

    Sounds of bone doors and items falling reached Ashera, bracketed by the footsteps of her fallen friends. Nerus cursed as he tripped on a half eaten woman.

    <ol>

    <li> Where are you going? Stay here. Keep fighting the Lycans. Your family is here, stay and die with the people you lead to destruction. </li>

    </ol>

    Ashera cursed them with all her soul. Vain wrath filled her belly only to fall silently on a listening world as the demon and her four disciples evacuated.

    Once again Ashera was left to rot. The sun rose, stinging her empty eye sockets as it vaporized the morning dew. Howls came and went, circling around her only to fade as they pursued their eternal foe. Ashera thought they might set her free, via tearing into her legs for a free snack, just like they tore into the bodies all around her. She could hear their bones snapping as the wolves slurped their marrow, adding her former family¡¯s strength to their hunt.

    Eight nails held her in place, two in each arm and two in each leg. Losing her crippled legs would solve half of her restraints, yet the wolves passed over her. One peculiarly large wolf stopped to urinate, walking in a circle around Ashera¡¯s cross.

    Dumb bitch, go piss somewhere else. Lorelai¡¯s corpse would be a great place to start.

    No response, not that she expected one. Lycan might be the Huntress¡¯ warriors but they were little more than enhanced humans, they did not have the eyes or ears of angels, they could not see her undeath nor hear the prayer of her soul. So they passed by her grave.

    ¨CDays passed¨C

    Mana flowed within Ashera, the power of her soul¡¯s will filled her body. Slowly, painfully, her body began to feel once more.

    Footsteps echoed through town. Ashera¡¯s ears twitched as they picked up on the sound of human footsteps crossing open grass. A woman¡¯s voice crossed the stillness, warmth on her skin told her it was day, but nothing more. The footsteps paused as the visitor halted their advance to kneel beside a body. An incantation escaped the visitor¡¯s lips and Ashera felt the quiver of power. Magic was being worked openly in Ellin forest. The visitor moved from one body to the next, granting them their final rites before repeating her incantation in a language Ashera could not understand but recognized as the words of the Seraphim.

    She listened as the woman worked, Ashera counted every single prayer. Memorizing it over the sixty repetitions. Magic ebbed with each prayer, washing against the Ellin blight like a tide and guiding the souls of the fallen to the afterlife; be it heaven or hell.

    Quickly harnessing the nascent magic Ashera wove power into her thoughts.

    Angel of mercy, have you come to answer my prayers? Prayed Ashera.

    ¡°I may be a woman, but I am no angel.¡± Said the woman.

    Footsteps approached Ashera¡¯s grave. The spike in her left wrist twisted slightly ¨Cno more than a millimeter¨C scraping against the bones in her forearm. Then it twisted counterclockwise, the motion repeating until the spike slipped free of the hardened blackwood and through her forearm. One of eight seals had been removed. The woman repeated the action three more times.

    Halfway free.

    ¡°My name is Diana, I am a priestess of the Mother. She has granted me the ears to hear your prayers, and sent me to offer you a curse. What would you sacrifice for your vengeance?¡± Diana Asked.

    A priestess of the Huntress, of course it was a Lycan who had come to her aid. Though what did she mean? Lycanthropy was never called a curse by the Huntress¡¯ faithful. It was their highest gift. An invitation to their family, one that could not be offered to the dead, so why had a servant of the wild grandmother come to her?

    Ashera could guess the answer, Hell might have answered her call, they often quarreled amongst themselves, but it was unlikely they would pick one who had already died. Angels ¨Cthe Seraphim¨C were almost entirely men, lords or knights, they had few ladies in their midst but for reasons unbeknownst to humanity they universally refused the duties of a holy mother. Even the wife of the twice-ascended Archon refused to be the patron of pregnant women. That duty had been carved out by the wild grandmother, the Huntress, the wrath of a spurned woman and antithesis of the Nightmother deviless of succubi.

    I should have honored her while I lived. Ashera thought.

    Priestess, no curse would bar my wrath. Look at me, my eyes are gone, my child was taken from my womb and slain before I could hold them. Even their corpse has been desecrated. Stolen so I can never bury them. I was once Loki¡¯s champion, and in my abeyance to the trickster I failed to offer homage to the Huntress. Curse me for my hubris, then curse me again for my dishonor, I deserve Her ire, but let me be the implement of the Huntress¡¯ wrath.

    Diana sucked air through her teeth in a long wince. ¡°I was worried you might say that. Mother gave me a weapon¡­ One that will damn your soul-¡±

    Give it to me. I¡¯ll kill the succubus.

    ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt! You have no idea the pain, the evil-¡±

    I was tricked. The sister of my soul was consumed by a succubus and I failed to notice! No pain or damnation or hellfire could make me suffer more than I already have.

    Diana let out her breath, and peeked up Ashera¡¯s skirt. A gasp escaped her lips when she recognized the damage of a forced birth. Seeing blood drip from above she lifted the hem past her distended belly, letting out a whimper when she saw the double mastectomy. Letting the dress fall she took a moment to smooth the wrinkles on Ashera¡¯s tattered clothes, pondering the evils she had endured.

    ¡°I see¡­ Listen well, this weapon is cursed. Mother gave it to me and ordered me to charge it with the souls of the damned. It will grant you the ability to use magic, so long as you add more souls. Did you weave magic while you were living?¡±

    Loki would not have accepted a powerless mortal as his champion. You say feed it souls, but what you mean is that the weapon hungers for souls, damned or innocent.

    Diana let out a pitiful laugh, a half hearted ache of sorrow. ¡°The weapon is the summation of Oathinao¡¯s fallen gods, divinities that no longer wander creation. They forged this weapon as their last gasp, a last curse before they fell into oblivion. Their hunger is boundless, the souls they claim are infinite. This power will consume you, be it today or a millennia from now.¡±

    Give me their epitaph, I wish to thank the gods who will grant me vengeance.

    Diana sighed, her last warning falling on deaf ears. What had she expected, the woman in front of her knew the meaning of woe, her wounds were evidence of a succubi¡¯s mission successfully accomplished. A family -a lineage that might have birthed a Seraphim- had been truncated by the endless plotting of Hell¡¯s succubi, leaving behind a revenant where there should have been joy.

    ¡°Fine. What is your name?¡±

    Ashera.

    Ashera, what a fitting name for the relevance of vengeance. In the distant city of Quar that name would be misunderstood as ¡®Lady of Ashes¡¯, an epitaph fitting of the hell she would soon have to endure. Diana paused as she recalled the weapon¡¯s epitaph, she had not been its keeper for long and the words were older than the continent of Oathinao. Diana opened her mind and heart, preparing her soul for revelation. Like an itching fire the Mother whispered the words into her waiting mind, and Diana prophesied.

    ¡°The weapon has no name, some have called it soulsucker, Thanatos¡¯ sphere, or the orb of death. Regardless of providence it was forged by the fallen gods who smelted their souls, distilling themselves into corporeal essence. Guided by Nyx, Hephestus condensed Thanatos, Erebus, Moros, Hypnos, Morpheus, Eris, Nemesis, Oizys, Geras, Deimos, Phobos, Thanatopsis, Keres, and a dozen others whose names have been lost to war, the rider of apocalypse, into this singularity. Will you accept annihilation to join the gods of oblivion?¡±

    As long as I can kill her I will accept anything. When oblivion claims me I will greet her with gratitude, so long as Geruvah is destroyed, wiped clean from existence.

    No sooner than she thought the words a black sphere zipped through space, flying from the pouch in Diana¡¯s hands to Ashera¡¯s right eyesocket. It pushed aside the dust and coagulated ichor to nestle itself inside her skull, warping it so the fist size orb appeared as a normal eye. Granting her a new form of vision.

    Her body burned as the orb of oblivion¡¯s gods rewrote her nervous system, reforging her body and mana circuits to accept its annihilating power. Her pelvis cracked, popping into place as a hundred souls willed her to be whole. Ashera smiled through it all, accepting the pain. She had failed her god, her family, and everything she had ever stood for. She deserved the pain of reanimation. Diana covered her mouth, recoiling from the crucifixion as Ashera¡¯s body began to twitch.

    She shook her head. No mortal should watch a destroying angel come into being, whatever taboos had tortured the revenant into existence would not be cured by her observation, so she fled. Leaving the orb to empower a new reaper. Four nails would be nothing more than splinters, and Diana was not foolish enough to face a starving ravager. So she ran into the forest, returning to the Mother who had empowered her. This Lady of Ashes might claim a million souls, but hers would not be among them.

 Chapter 9 Lokiâ€™s Return

    Souls Absorbed: 88

    A singularity of forgotten gods now dwelt in Ashera¡¯s skull. Power filled her body, flooding her body with the familiar sensation of magic. She guided it through her, from her eye into her mind, then down her neck into her heart. Along the way it rewrote her mana circuits, the structure of her soul-body that allowed her to wield the excess will of her spiritual source.

    It felt like she was gargling lava.

    Heat came from excess power, rampant mana that refused to circulate according to her will. It was made from gods, why should a sublime creation bow to the will of a mortal girl? Ashera ignored its voice, there was nothing sublime about failure, these gods were dead.

    Do not mingle your failure with my vengeance. We are going to kill a succubus.

    The orb scoffed at her, reversing the flow of power back into itself. She felt the energy retract. Her vision faded as the dead gods retracted their power.

    No no no no NO!

    Ashera refused to see her vengeance disappear, her soul reached into her eye socket and grasped the essence of Olympus.

    Where do you think you are going? We are done when I say so.

    You speak of failure as if you have achieved anything. Where is your family? Where are your friends or followers? We persist while you are a corpse.

    Their backtalk triggered her memories, painful recollections she thrust into the orb¡¯s throat. Gods or essence, they would come to know her suffering. She recalled the weeks leading up to her death, the love she held for Tristan, the laughter she shared with Lorelai. The orb resisted her emotions, sensing the trap in her joy. Pain could only bring you low if your natural state of being was above it, so they resisted her joy. Fought against the thoughts of Aleyander and her hopes for him.

    The orb tried to recall her death, fighting her visions with a picture of her on the cross. A single snapshot against the torrent of her memories. It echoed the words of Lorelai¡¯s betrayal again and again. Stabbing them into Ashera¡¯s soul like the heart shattering weapons they had been. They bore down on her, dislodging her soul and draggin it towards the orb, if they could absorb her soul then the crucified body would belong to them, her body would be theirs to command and she would just be one more soul inlaid onto the oblivion of forgotten Hades. The shadow of gods began to savor their victory, cackling as they dragged her soul into contact with the orb. Her mind connected to theirs, a soul to soul contact that stripped their egos and laid their ids bare.

    You gods are so cute, if my soul wasn¡¯t already shattered you might have had a chance.

    They screamed, a thousand souls begging for release as Ashera pierced them with shards of her soul.  Her love for Tristan was now an onyx blade, one that pierced Nyx¡¯s intelligence. Ashera grasped the shards of her sisterhood and lacerated Deimos, chasing Phobos into the darkest depths of the orb. Where the gods should have been strongest. Yet, none had suffered as fresh a betrayal as she had, none had loved as deeply as she had. The human souls within the orb began to shift in her favor, the sixty one souls who had followed her into Ellin Forest bent to her will once they saw the truth of Lorelai¡¯s corruption. Her admission of guilt played within the orb, turning the tide against the deities. Eighteen unknown souls joined them, slain humans lost to Ellin.

    Forgotten once more the deities waned, consciousness fading as Ashera¡¯s determination sundered their power from them. It slammed into Ashera¡¯s corpse, empowering it and continuing the process of unification. Other souls resisted her mission but soon her purpose overrode their transient wills, guiding their powers and adding them to her own. All the while Ellin Forest drained them both.

    Days and nights passed as Ashera became the shark, devouring one fleeting soul after another. Each of her teeth was a memory of pain, or betrayal that sliced through the scales of hardened hearts until none remained.

    So what if you were forgotten, join me and our wrath will be immortal.

    Dead souls flocked to her new purpose. Their lives were gone, but through their new wielder they could act. Darkness claimed Ashera, conquering her mind as the orb integrated with her soul.

    We will make Lorelai Geruvah feel the sorrow of Ashera. We will take our vengeance.

    ¡ª

    A pale figure stood in front of Ashera¡¯s cross. One hand on a jewel encrusted hilt of his sword and the other on his angular jawline. He shifted his sword hand, retrieving a silver coin to roll across his knuckles. There he stood, like the statue that should have been, instead of the odious thing Ashera was nailed to.

    Eight hours passed with the pale stranger standing in front of Ashera. Rows of half eaten corpses lined the bone village, a graveyard to match. The sun rose high above the forest yet the stranger did not move, he was an immortal, unafflicted by the trivialities of warmth or cold or time. He could wait for Ashera¡¯s soul to mollify the implanted curse.

    Eventually, Ashera became aware of his presence. The black orb that served as her only eye focusing on the pale figure.

    ¡°Just look at this mess. I can¡¯t leave you alone for a single lifetime without everyone dying!¡±

    Ashera raised her head, her once rotten muscles trembling. It would take more magic than she had to mend her corpse into a functioning husk, magic regenerated over time, but the blackwood blight drained magic just as quickly. Heal her body or save her strength and escape the cross, those were her two paths, and only one led to Lorelai.

    Come to taunt me? Ashera thought, knowing the pale man could hear her.

    His jaw clenched. ¡°Do you remember our covenant? The three things I can never abide.¡±

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    She answered his question by recalling the day he found her.

    We would be what the other needed, you would give me the family I lost, and my line would worship you. As for the three things, they are angels, demons, and whatever thing annoyed you last.

    One corner of his mouth twisted upward into a lopsided grin. ¡°Angels, demons, and malice.¡± Without a word he stepped forward and yanked the nails out of Ashera, withdrawing when she crumpled in a heap on the itchy grass of Ellin Forest. He kept on walking, fully intending to leave the forest.

    Loki¡­ Why didn¡¯t you save me?

    The pale man slowed. Half turning to meet Ashera¡¯s empty eye sockets. One black sphere stared into his soul, the shadow of an abyss. Leaning back he placed both hands behind his head.

    ¡°You served me well for thirteen years, why did you turn your back on me two years ago?¡±

    Two years ago¡­? Oh¡­ The answer did not need to be stated, Lorelai had fallen two years ago, she had poisoned the well of their covenant so thoroughly, so totally, that even now when god and disciple met face to face they could not heal the chasm. No words could bridge the gap, no actions could resurrect the fallen.

    ¡°You¡¯re dead. Along with my seventy seven hopes. Without your covenant I cannot endure the tides of Hell and must withdraw. I will never again walk the shores of Oathinao.¡± Loki said, running his fingers through his black hair.

    I¡¯m sorry.

    Ashera knew she had broken their covenant. Lorelai¡¯s machinations had ensured every promise was broken, every component twisted, and every soul that should have supported Loki could not.

    How bad is it?

    Loki shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s no big deal, I¡¯ll just head to Jaflin and start a gambling cult. The Seraphim have a hundred lineages there, if nothing else I¡¯ll be protected. Ha, even their king is a Seraphim, and Valerian lives there, he owes me a few favors I intend on cashing in.¡±

    Ashera hung her head, pondering the term ¡®no big deal¡¯ when it was anything but. Loki had fallen, he was an immortal but his divinity had been stripped from him by the same whoring cunt that had robbed Ashera. Sensing her thoughts Loki spoke.

    ¡°Divinity cannot be so easily lost. But my powers¡­¡± He shrugged, a false grin on his face ¡°Are as potent as a field mouse, or maybe a frog who has been trapped in a chamberpot.¡±

    If Ashera¡¯s body functioned, she would have let out a strangled laugh, then wept for her impotent savior. As she was the cold animus of undeath guided her.

    Come with me. Help me kill her.

    Loki did not hesitate. ¡°No. I will not lose myself to wrath as my brothers did. Ashera, my Lady of Luck, please listen to me, I do not harbor any ill will for you. Geruvah is mightier than myself, in my golden age I might have parried her malice, but now?...¡± He shook his head slowly.

    ¡°Do not let your sorrow condemn you. No matter how far you fall there will always be a road back for you. Come with me, forget about Geruvah¨C¡±

    NO! How could you even ask me that? I¡¯ll never forget that whore. Loki! Look at me! I¡¯m dead. My family is in a fucking pickle jar or in her bed! Jude is gone! Ephraim is¡­

    What had Lorelai said about Ephraim? ¡®Leave him behind¡¯ and ¡®let Ashera find him when she gets off the cross¡¯...

    ¡°Ashera, do not seek him out, let me shield you from that suffering at least. Geruvah hid you from me. Now that she is gone I know you were tricked and not apostate. Two years of broken oaths, let me apologize for my weakness. Do not reopen old wounds. Forgiveness can often be the most excruciating road, but it will lead you to joy instead of sorrow.¡±

    She struggled to rise, her pelvis may have been bolted together, but her hips were loosely connected and her feet popped with each step. A reminder of how badly the crucifixion had damaged her limbs.

    Walk alongside me one last time. Ashera implored, extending one hand to Loki, the other pushing against the cross.

    He rolled the silver coin across his knuckles and caught the coin between his index and thumb, raising it to cover half his face. Ashera tried to smile, her undead face spasming. She would have drooled but all her spit had long since dried. Attempting to hide her face she raised her fingerless hand to cover her mouth, immediately regretting her action.

    ¡°If it¡¯s any consolation¡­ When I see what they did to you, a part of me wishes I were a god of justice like my brother Thor, or our father.¡± Loki whispered.

    If Ellin Forest had been a normal forest, his words would have been drowned out by chirping birds and humming insects, but it wasn¡¯t, and his words found their way through the soulless land to Ashera.

    Flip the coin before I die of old age.

    Loki flicked the coin, sending it twenty feet above them. ¡°Heads and I remain true to myself. Tails and I forsake my divinity to join you.¡±

    They watched the coin sumersault through the air, holding their breath ¨Cnot that a god or undead actually needed to breathe¨C as the coin landed.

    Heads.

    Ashera¡¯s heart fell, Loki was the god of mischief and luck, games of chance were his forte, the bread for his mischievous butter.

    ¡°Hmm I am bound by my nature, but maybe I can aid the lady of luck even if I do not accompany her.¡±

    Loki snatched the coin and chucked it into the air, higher than before.

    ¡°Heads and I will aid my lady of luck from afar. Tails and I cut my losses.¡±

    The orb in her skull focused on Loki¡¯s hand, ignoring the toss as it identified the blue energy shooting from his palm. Magic was a blatant manipulation of the roll that made Ashera¡¯s mouth tug upwards. He was trying to alter the toss, trying to guarantee a heads up. Loki may have been bound by celestial laws, but bending the rules to fit his domain was a favored past-time.

    The coin landed in a patch of brown grass.

    Tails.

    Loki cocked his head at the disobedient coin. Ashera bit her lower lip, fighting back a smile.

    Looks like you are running out of luck. You sure about opening up a gambling hall?

    ¡°Oh hush.¡± Grumbled Loki, retrieving the coin and hurling it into the air.

    ¡°Heads and I ¨C I, uh¡­¡±

    Heads and you go to Jaflin. Tails and you name the gambling hall after me.

    He snorted, covering his face with both hands. ¡°Leave or leave. That¡¯s not even a wager!¡±

    The coin flew high enough to slap one of the rare sparrows of Ellin Forest, sending the sparrow plummeting into a nest of mistletoe. Redirected by the hapless avian the coin careened out of control, bouncing off the nearest bone hut ¨Cthe one everyone had died in¨C to land on the statue of Ashera. Somehow managing to wedge itself between her wooden cleavage.

    ¡°Oh what the fuck.¡± Shouted Loki.

    Throwing his hands up he stomped towards the statue, hoping the coin was tilted one way or the other. Meanwhile Ashera was left feeling deeply conflicted, wanting to laugh at the absurdity of Loki¡¯s fortune but reminded of what Lorelai had taken, what Balorian was pickling.

    ¡°Knock it off. I can hear your memories¡­¡± Loki chided. After a moment he added ¡°Watching them once was enough for me.¡± In an almost inaudible whisper. One that Ashera wasn¡¯t sure if it was meant for her to hear. She scanned the world, seeking some distraction for her to latch onto and only finding Loki staring at the unfortunate statue. His face was meer inches from the coin.

    See something you like?

    ¡°Eugh.¡± Loki said, gagging at the thought.

    ¡°Morning or night, I have enough wood. Thanks for the concern.¡± Loki said, a smile crossing his face.

    A moment passed in silence, his face falling into a pool of severity. ¡°Hey, lady of luck. When you finish your business here, come see me in Jaflin.¡±

    Ashera nodded her head. It¡¯s a promise, although you might have to lend me a few nickels to rub together.

    They both knew the promise would never be kept, that fact didn¡¯t matter to either of them, one little white lie between family. Their only concern was to lessen the other¡¯s sorrow. Loki extracted the coin, pinching it so a hole formed at its center, silver wire appeared and pierced the coin.

    ¡°A band of moonlight for the winner of my gambling hall¡¯s first coin toss. This one¡¯s on the house.¡±

    Ashera couldn¡¯t help but grin stupidly as he slipped the necklace over her head. Loki¡¯s jovian nature always seemed to infect her. She stepped around him to retrieve the coin, ripping it out of the statue.

    Hey Loki, Thank you- She tried to say.

    But Loki was already gone. Not even a waft of smoke remained in his place.

    Relief flooded Ashera¡¯s mind, Loki was no fighter, he was not a god of thunderbolts or hammers, but he was finally safe.

    I¡¯ll be the one to kill her.

    Then we¡¯ll meet in Jaflin.

    An omniscience smiled down on the wrathful undead, laughing at the irony of her statement. Maybe in an eon my daughter of woe, but first, come meet me in Baphomet¡¯s Ruin. You can¡¯t kill Geruvah alone.

 Chapter 10 Sloth Meets Wrath

    Ashera followed Loki¡¯s example and wasted no time leaving the village. The Seventy Seven had betrayed her, burying them would be a waste of her time.

    Vesper and Rowan¡¯s corpses were gone, her only defenders. The rest deserved to rot.

    A glint of steel caught her eye, a spearpoint half caked in blood. Kicking the body that pinned the spear she considered taking it, deciding quickly she extended her right hand, the one without fingers.

    The hell am I doing? I have four fingers and two thumbs. Magic, this eye- or sphere or soul orb, is the only weapon I have! And it requires souls to wield, I need to find a battlefield with dying men- No, dying mages. I¡¯m not getting any power from normal humans. Back to war¡­

    What happens to the souls I put in the sphere?

    I¡¯ll kill her, then figure it out.

    She packed quickly, only slowing to bandage her wounds and change her clothes, sensing the need to blend in with humans. Bundling her head in bandages she realized that the orb in her socket could see through the cloth, wrapping her head two more times she wanted to smile at the absurdity of her new weapon. So this is how the angels perceived the world, try hiding from me now Geruvah. Asher searched her home, most of her clothes were gone, probably thrown out by Tristan or given away by his new whore. One of Lorelai¡¯s dresses remained, but the thought of keeping anything relating to her made her undead stomach churn. Besides, Vesper was a closer fit for Ashera¡¯s build, simulacra fidelis, so it was Vesper¡¯s clothes she borrowed.

    A tumultuous thought entered her mind, she was undead, how was she going to reap souls without drawing the attention of an inquisitor, or worse one of the Seraphim. They wouldn¡¯t waste a moment obliterating her, she might be able to fight an inquisitor if she collected enough souls, but the Seraphim¡­ No matter her excuse they were pure beings, abiding evil was not within their ken. Entering their domains would be impossible.

    Fight outside their fortresses, outside the cities. Alone.

    It would never work. A single mage against the hordes of hell? It would be easier to slay a river or drown the sun. Whispers rose in her mind, echoes of souls contained within her sphere eye.

    Take their souls.

    I¡¯ll kill her.

    Grow stronger.

    Kill Geruvah.

    Kill Lorelai.

    That¡¯s right, I¡¯m undead. ¨CDefiled¨C. Pain is a thing I''ve left behind, as is my chastity¡­ Not even a hellspawned demon would lust after me now. I may pass through their legions as an ally.

    Remind me to thank Lorelai for giving me Satan¡¯s hall pass.

    Now for the gathering of souls, there were three cities near Ellin Forest, Gerscav, Juyoma, and Nao. Fortified Gerscav was closest, built by the dwarves to trade their forgecraft with the humans who had once inhabited the capital of Dureasu. Distant Nao whose vigil over the Nao and Oathi rivers ¨Cfrom which the continent derived its name¨C had endured ten thousand years. And finally Juyoma, whose only claim to note was its association with Lamenter¡¯s lake. As a suburb of the capital the city had effectively bled out and died when the Hellgate opened. Farmlands fell barren, seeds refused to propagate in corrupted soil, the forest fell ill, spontaneously igniting until ash perpetually rained in a mist of mild sorrow.

    Ashera knew her goal instantly and started walking.

    Recalling the words of her enemy, ¡®mother has need of your suffering¡¯; Juyoma would be her aim. Death and suffering ¨Ca demon¡¯s sustenance¨C would abound in Juyoma. Nao was too far and could call upon the Keresh Reavers or the city states of the Nao Delta to defend them; it also had one of the Seraphim as its lord. Geruvah would never tempt fate so blatantly, not when there were easier targets far closer.

    Though she might stop in Gerscav¡­ Ashera began to run. If she went straight to Juyoma, if she ran through the nights, she might just be able to catch the succubus unawares. An excellent opportunity to ambush Nerus or Balorian.

    Wait¡­

    She was forgetting someone. The last member of their mercenary band.

    Lorelai had said to leave Ephraim, she needed to find him before the wolves came back. How had he survived the first attack? Was this just one more of Lorelai¡¯s torments? Another game of suffering for her to enjoy?

    Ashera moved through the village, fury and fear mingling with peace as she passed Vesper¡¯s home. Two freshly dug graves, marked with rocks, lay outside their home, the final resting place of her final allies. She paused for a moment, leaning down to touch the stones.

    Thank you Vesper. You deserved better than a naive friend like me. I pray that Rowan finds you in heaven.

    Her face itched, a twitch from tear ducts that held no tears. Ashera couldn¡¯t stand the itch and ran, fleeing towards Ephraim¡¯s farm. For some reason he had decided that the most difficult farm was the right one for him, closest to the blackwood and furthest from the village center. A dozen stumps marked his labor, heralding the effort he had once put into clearing the land, an effort that stopped several months ago. His hammock sat suspended between two trees, weighed down by a vaguely Ephraim shaped weight.

    Ephraim!

    The lumpy hammock swayed in the wind, he was alive! Ashera wasn¡¯t alone, there was one ally who would hate Lorelai for the village¡¯s doom. Her undead lips cracked into a smile. Around the hammock a dozen trees bore half hearted axe marks, as if someone had hit them a few times then gave up, only to assault the next tree.

    Strange. Thought Ashera, reaching Ephraim¡¯s hammock, she looked down at him, expecting to find her little brother safe and sound.

    What she found instead made her wish that Ephraim had never been born. Flies and maggots covered his body, writhing alongside black millipedes and red centipedes. His skin was gone, as was most of his muscle. His chest rose a half centimeter, breathing through a tongueless mouth¨C

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    ¨CEphraim was alive.

    The rest of his face was gone, eyes pecked out, and nasal cartilage rising from a skinless face like a snow covered mountain.

    Ashera¡¯s undead body gave no reaction, she wanted to cry or scream, she wished her heart would skip a beat or bleed, yet nothing occurred. She was dead, like Ephraim should be. His state of suspended suffering confirmed what she already knew. Lorelai was a true demon, with all the powers that came with the blessings of Hell.

    One of their most profane powers ¨Cand thus the mostly widely feared¨C was the ability to trap a human soul within a body or object, the antithesis of banishing. They enjoyed this power, leveraging it to heighten human suffering to the level of commercial agriculture, trap a soul then torture its body until every nearby demon could feed off the suffering. Just like Ephraim was being eaten alive, ten million bites from venomous insects, yet he still drew breath.

    Ephraim had been eaten alive for weeks. Paralyzed, he was nothing more than fuel for Lorelai¡¯s escape. Ashera¡¯s baby brother had been degraded to the level of a battery. Undead Ashera calculated leaving him in that state ¨CLorelai would know if she tampered with his body, warning her of Ashera¡¯s release¨C she would feel a sudden loss of power from the village and know death was coming for her.

    Let her hear me. I am going to kill you Lorelai, and set anyone who follows you free.

    Her dagger appeared in her hand, blade tip aimed at Ephraim¡¯s heart.

    I¡¯m sorry, please forgive me for bringing you into this forest. She thought.

    The dagger plunged into his chest, piercing his heart with each thrust. She stabbed him again, planning to repeat the coup de grace until Ephraim stopped breathing. Steel severed the Aorta, punctured both lungs and still Ephraim breathed. Mortal weapons were not enough, Ephraim would suffer until a greater bane was brought to bear against his body. Burning him would work, but life in Ellin Forest¡­

    Steal his soul and the demon¡¯s spell will fail. Whispered the orb.

    But he is my brother! I can¡¯t trap him in¡­ in whatever you are.

    Can¡¯t you hear his screams? Turn him into the weapon that slays Geruvah. It is what he would want. He would feel blessed to join the weapon that slays her.

    Ashera shivered, hating everything the sphere in her eye said. She wanted to scream, to rip it from her skull and smash it into dust, she wanted to find another way. However, what she wanted was not what she did.

    Placing one hand over Ephraim¡¯s heart she crushed a dozen centipedes, scattering earwigs and millipedes under her hand. They bit her, tasting undead flesh and dying, the other bugs scattered as she called on the Soul Sphere. Show me what you can do with a soul. Mana, raw magical power flowed from Ephraim¡¯s soul up her arm through her heart and into the Sphere, when his reservoir ran dry the sphere caught hold of his soul, aspirating his essence through Ashera¡¯s mana circuits.

    The entire process lasted seconds, yet Ashera felt as though she had walked a thousand miles past her morality.

    I¡¯ll kill her. Was all she could think as she set off after Lorelai.

    Ten feet into the woods she found a second cross.

    Blood stained the wood, running from eight holes ¨Cas if the wood itself were weeping blood¨C in the wood half-tainted with blight. This is an old cross, one used over a month ago¡­ The Soul Sphere activated, showing her a vision of the past. Tristan and Jude stood in front of the cross, Geruvah wearing Ashera¡¯s face, between them. Lorelai was present, nailed to the cross, mouth gagged and bound shut, a fire lapping at her feet and up her calves.

    The vision blurred, scrolling through days in seconds, Ashera caught glimpses of tortured months with the fire only growing taller as it scarred Lorelai iron brands scalding Lorelai¡¯s delicate skin, flesh melting as Jude pressed the brand into her, smiling as she made Lorelai suffer.

    ¡°Just give in Lorelai, come to our side, help Ashera ascend.¡±

    ¡°What happened to you Jude? Your strength used to give me hope, but now¡­ you¡¯re nothing more than a demon¡¯s whore¨C¡±

    Jude stuffed the red hot rod down Lorelai¡¯s throat, emitting a hissing scream as the woman¡¯s body was obliterated, then repaired with a touch from Geruvah/Ashera. Tristan joined in on the torture, violating Lorelai in unspeakable ways, with Jude enthusiastically adding pain to every torment. Mana flowed from Ephraim¡¯s carcass to Geruvah, fueling the loathsome torture for weeks.

    Lorelai endured it all, her filial love for Ashera granting her an unconquerable will to endure. Two months passed, with Geruvah, Tristan, and Jude inventing ever more depraved torments for Lorelai. They captured rats and had them burrow through her lungs, when that failed to sway her they made her swallow the rodents, forcing them to burrow out of her. During the day they enveloped her in flames, Geruvah¡¯s profane healing keeping Lorelai alive.

    Watching the Hell her friend had endured broke Ashera¡¯s undead heart. She loved Lorelai, and knew Lorelai loved her in return, but watching her endure drove the unthinkable home. Their love had been as a twin loves their other half, pure, unblemished, constantly reinforced by common interests and desires. Yet the depth of Lorelai¡¯s faith surpassed the deepest oceans and laughed at the shortness of the tallest mountain, rising past Heaven even as her body was dragged into Hell.

    In the end, Lorelai defeated Geruvah.

    The Soul Sphere showed Lorelai¡¯s death, her soul escaping the flames to heaven, and leaving her body behind for Geruvah to work her evil.

    Lorelai¡¯s love cemented Ashera¡¯s heart. Nothing would stop her from returning every one of her torments to Geruvah.

    I¡¯ll kill her.

    ¨CDays passed¨C

    Ellin forest faded as she ran, sparse trees afflicted with blackwood blight gave way to the ashen heath of the eastern woods that had become known as Baphomet¡¯s Ruin. Nothing grew here, nor did animals disturb the limbo of Gehenna. The land was shunned by all, a memorial to demonic pride, or a testament to how much raw power, hellfire, or magic the blackwood blight could absorb.

    The blight might leech living souls, but it could only grow in live wood and the burnt trees around Ashera provided no shelter. They were deader than her innocence. Puffs of ash rose behind her footfalls, whispers of demons slain by High Lord Inquisitor Valerian and his Seraphs before they had returned to Jaflin.

    White dust coated her body, superficially bleaching her clothes and hair. If anyone saw her now, they would thing a spurned ghost was haunting the ruined heath. Not that Ashera cared about other¡¯s anymore.

    There was no room in her heart for pity. Another day passed, her undead body kept up the pace, leeching power from the death sphere to sustain the endless marathon. All souls generated mana, though few could wield the power and even fewer could produce more than a candling flame a year. A thousand human souls was little more than a trickle of mana, less than Ashera¡¯s own soul generated while she still lived.

    And a succubus has more power than any human ever could. I¡¯ll need thousands maybe even tens of thousands of souls.

    Ashera felt nothing as she weighed the cost of souls against her desire for vengeance, if it meant Lorelai¡¯s destruction then she would gladly borrow millions of souls. The inquisition would notice her eventually, and when they did they would be compelled to send an Inquisitor, most likely a Seraph with the angel eyes. A gift of heaven that allowed the bearer to see things as they truly were, to find the truth regardless of the illusion or lie. They would know she was undead the second they laid eyes on her.

    Gather souls, and we can hide your death. Whispered the Soul Sphere.

    How many souls will I need?

    That depends on the eyes of the beholder, you were human once, restore your body, mend your fingers and regrow your eye. Then it will be easier to mask the truth.

    Regrow your eye, that thought alone almost sent Ashera into a nearby tree. She knew healing magic, but regrowing eyes required finesse she lacked.

    It does not need to work, the eye just needs to be intact. Answered the Soul Sphere.

    Ashera could guess what it meant, she needed to look as human as possible, each wound, every cut or bruise would be one more deception that needed masking, increasing the illusory costs and creating one more lie for a Seraph to see through.

    No time like the present¡­

    Slowing to a walk she focused on her missing pinky, tapping into the power of her soul she channeled magic through herself, muttering the incantation of healing. Power, raw and foreign, scalded her eyesocket, flowing from the sphere into her brain, down her neck, shoulder, arm, forearm, and hand to pool at the nub that had once been her pinky finger. Skin wiggled and extended, dead cells dividing under the motus of akashic energies.

    The flow of magic dwindled, the Soul Sphere drained of mana. With her good hand she probed the finger, where there had been half of a knuckle she now had a knuckle and a half.

    Ha, all my power for half a finger.

    Gather souls¡­ Whispered the Soul Sphere, voice fading as it slipped into the trance of sleep.

    Dying really sucks. She should have been able to heal at least her own pinky with her intrinsic powers, but something about undeath had robbed her of them. This wasn¡¯t a second chance, it was starting from nothing.

    Strength evacuated from her limbs bringing Ashera to her hands and knees.

    What happens when an undead runs out of mana? This can¡¯t be how I die again!

    Ash greeted Ashera¡¯s face, cushioning her nosedive into the ruin. There she lay, hours passing by as souls regenerated her Sphere, conscious and dead. Her mind fell into a gray malaise. Without mana her undead body could not propel any part of her, not even her thoughts.

    Night fell, young darkness cloaking Ashera¡¯s folly. She rose from the ash covered dirt and continued on her way, cursing her weak body for the loss of time. She needed to get close to the succubus, find her and pick off her allies one by one.

 Chapter 11 The ArchQueen of Archangels

    The blanket of ash that lay over Baphomet¡¯s ruin thinned, giving way to grassy plains as Ashera trudged onward. She lacked the mana to run, as well as the patience to stop and recover her strength. The sun rose and set on her path, days blending into weeks, the further she marched from Ellin Forest the better she felt. Its leeching effect dwindling as her Soul Sphere left its confines. How many weeks had it been since her death? It didn¡¯t matter, the only thing that mattered was catching up to Lorelai.

    I¡¯ll kill her.

    Her body had no need for food or water, a small boon that allowed her to cover ground faster than she ever had in life. When they had first trekked into Ellin forest they had taken over a month to get their wagons through its miring ash. Now it took her days to escape her new namesake, arriving at the Gin-Ger river. The name was a dwarven joke that she never understood, something to do with the excretions of Khachugin building Gerscav. Or had they called it the extrusions of Khachugin?

    Ashera couldn¡¯t care less.

    Stripping naked she swam across the river ¨Cdead as she was¨C the icy mountain runoff did not trouble her in the slightest. Ash mingled with reactivated blood, the water washing away any evidence of her lost humanity and leaving behind a broken porcelain doll. An ash-covered woman would stand out in Juyoma, spurring questions regarding her origin. She considered bathing in the river, but it was a common trade route for barges journeying to Takioomi from Gerscav. Floating down the Gin-Ger river to the greater Biwako where they could travel to Nao or a tributary that led to Takioomi.

    Logic intervened, Takioomi was conquered. A fallen city that exported sorrow or refugees that were somehow lucky enough to escape hell on earth. An increasingly common occurrence as the demonic legions crept across the continent. Trade diminished with every fallen city, fields went unplowed as men were thrown into the grinder of perpetual war, and demons infiltrated trade cities. Waiting for the day they could aid their allies by opening a locked gate or corrupting the right leader. Gerscav belonged to the dwarves, a race that could not mingle with the Seraphim and was thus declared ¡®unworthy¡¯ by the Inquisition. They would not risk trade with a corrupted city, not when it meant allowing demons a path to infiltrate their holds. They would batten down the hatches and eschew any vagrants along their path, meaning Ashera had nothing to fear, besides an unpleasantly dwarven side eye.

    Let them look. She thought darkly.

    So she took her time, examining the damage Lorelai had done to her and bandaging any open wounds. Her chest had to be padded and bound, stuffing her bra reminded her of the brothels back in Takioomi, ¨Cdens of lust she had been forced to hide in more often than she cared to admit¨C though her friends there were far more adept at the verbose ¨Cverbusty-- deception than she was. Her face came next, tying her hair back she considered trimming Lorelai¡¯s hack job into something passable, only to stop when she realized any strand of hair she lost would be gone forever.

    I¡¯m going to go bald¡­ That will be¡­ inconvenient.

    Bald women were considered unclean, plague carriers, or daughters of misfortune. They could seek relief from the Inquisition where happy endings were as common as executions, but that would require an interrogation ¨Ca trial that would reveal her undeath just as surely as if she ran streaking through the capital with a sword through her missing bosom. Without an inquisitorial pass she wouldn¡¯t be able to enter any walled city or town that posted guards. Maybe she could use illusion magic to regrow hair? She had tried to give her hair more volume and virility with magic, but never to regrow it entirely.

    Can healing magic grow undead hair?

    After the pinky healing incident she was not about to try. Continuing with her cleansing she bandaged her hand, mouth, and eyes. Feeling like a burn victim with a few days left to live she tied her hair into the shortest ponytail of her life. Ashera¡¯s hair had always been long and full, unlike Jude¡¯s thin locks hers were full and messy¡­ Jude¡­

    Memories of her older sister brought her to the brink of tears. Jude had fallen, watching her die on the cross. No, Jude had enjoyed the crucifixion, the only atonement for her elder sister would be a swift death. An end to her malice before she could inflict her despair on other souls.

    I¡¯ll kill her, and set you free Jude.

    A tingle of power set off warning bells in Ashera¡¯s mind. Something was coming and it was far more powerful than she had ever been. Fear wrapped its clawed fingers around her heart. There was nowhere to hide, a few sparse trees grew along the rivers edge but she was sitting in the shallows, looking at her reflection in the water.

    White mana spun in the air behind her, spinning into a gilded excretion disk. Golden silver magic could only mean one thing. Seraphim. One of the angels was opening a portal not twenty feet away from her. Ten mountains would not be enough to hide, so Ashera held still, hoping they would take pity on her or better yet, ignore her existence. The portal¡¯s spinning slowed, solidifying into a circle that seemed to melt the air, opening into a mirror that displayed two figures.

    The first figure stepped through the portal, a knight in armor so polished that he may as well have been a second sun whose presence made the dirt tremble in awe. River water flowed away from him, parting of its own accord to avoid hiding the Seraphim knight. A spear of blonde wood was in his right hand and a round shield covered in runes adorned his left arm. His glowing white eyes met Ashera¡¯s gaze, twin gateways into the afterlife.

    I can¡¯t die here, I haven¡¯t killed her yet.

    His knuckles tightened on his spear as her thoughts reached him. He extended his shield hand, empty palm rising to eradicate Ashera from existence. She knew what would happen next because she had seen it before. Seraphim favored a form of white lightning as their offense spell, it was magic unique to the angels that seemed to test the morality of those struck by it. Any malice or sin would crack a spirit open, giving the lightning direct access to their soul and exterminating it. Dematerializing the incorporeal from this life and the afterlife. The knight¡¯s hand aligned with Ashera¡¯s torso.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    If you kill me, slay the succubus Lorelai Geruvah.

    His face twisted into a grimace at the name, recognition dawning in his gold irises.

    ¡°Lower your eyes. Do not gaze upon my queen or offend her in any way or I will intervene.¡±

    Every word was brimming with power, as if a legion of knight carried it on their spearpoints. The second figure stepped through the portal, a woman with sparkling green eyes, a dress to match her twin emeralds and a suppression collar around her neck. She made an arcane sigil with her hand to dismiss the portal, a casual gesture that made Ashera shiver at the impossibility.

    Suppression collars were uncommon devices, they had originally been conceived as a way to imprison mages by limiting their ability to channel magic. A role they failed out of when heaven and hell began their war millenia ago, now the collars were commissioned artifacts. Used in special cases when a mage had to restrict their powers.

    Movement on the Queen¡¯s stomach pulled her eye and the Queen¡¯s hand to where the baby had kicked. Her face, ¨Cno, her eyes, had been so luminously gorgeous that Ashera could not notice the baby bump until it moved. Instantly explaining the suppression collar with a shiver that blew ice through her vertebra.

    The Queen did not wear the collar to suppress her own powers ¨Cthat was only a minor side effect¨C she wore it to suppress the powers of her unborn infant. An antediluvian practice that only the grandest of immortal beings found necessary.

    Ashera had never felt so outclassed, not as a mage or as a woman. She could feel the raw power of the beings in front of her, making her wonder if it would have been better to never be born than to face them here and now. Her Soul Sphere warned her not to look at the Queen, so she craned her neck forward, practically face planting into the river. The Queen laughed, a joyous sound that brought tears to Ashera¡¯s eyes. Her heart beat with rapt bliss.

    Have I been¡­ She was scared to even think the word. Resurrected?

    ¡°Captain Liam, can¡¯t you see you are scaring the poor girl. Give us some space. Us girls need to chat.¡±

    ¡°My Queen, please do not send me-¡±

    ¡°Did I stutter?¡± Asked the Queen, shooing away her knight with one hand.

    Captain Liam ¨Cfuming¨C snapped a salute and marched perpendicular to the river. Running water parted for him, silent trees sizzled and evaporated in his wake, and loose loam compressed into stone under his greaves.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been watching you since that prayer of yours, daughter of woe.¡± Looking down she saw Ashera¡¯s face in the water. ¡°Child, get out of the water and come chat with me.¡± Said the Queen, patting a nearby rock.

    She sat on a second boulder several paces away, close enough that they could speak freely, yet far enough that they would not risk touching one another. A subtlety that was not lost on Ashera. She moved slowly, hesitantly obeying the Queen¡¯s command. Who was this woman?

    ¡°Just this once you may call me by my name. Lily. I am wife to the Archon Uther. Oh and be sure to heed my words, if we meet again I¡¯ll kill you.¡± The Queen smiled warmly as she spoke, as if they were sharing tea and cookies instead.

    Gears spun in Ashera¡¯s mind, syncing as she heard ¡®Archon¡¯. The spouse of the Seraphim¡¯s High King was sitting across from her. Not five feet away from an undead sat the High Queen of Heaven.

    ¡°Titles like that are so pretentious, I¡¯m no god and don¡¯t you go about trying to make me into one. We only have a few moments to spare.¡±

    What¡¯s the rush?

    ¡°You are. If I stay here too long you¡¯ll crumble into dust, a most undesirable end for the Lady of Ash.¡± Said the Queen, winking at her.

    Uh¡­ Yes, Lady Lily, uhm- how can I be of service?

    The Queen¡¯s grin took on a sly cant, a giggle escaping her lips at Ashera¡¯s thought. ¡°Seraphim do not demand service, we serve. You cried out to all angels and demons, myself included. Though, I would not be here if someone more crucial had not heard you first.¡± Her hand fell across her baby bump as she spoke.

    You¡¯re here because your¡­ baby? Fetus? ¨Cyou can¡¯t be six months pregnant¨C heard my prayer? Thought Ashera, her incredulity twisting her undead face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t overthink it, my son will inherit this world and for some reason he decided that the first person he would speak to is not his mother or father, but you¡­ A broken saint of a dead god.¡± Said Lily, her tone turning so cold that Ashera¡¯s beating heart froze once more. Riverwater chilled to cold sweat.

    Did you kill Loki?

    ¡°Oh dear, you misunderstand. I meant metaphysically, Loki the god is dead, not the Loki you know.¡±

    That doesn¡¯t make any meta-sense! Eek, don¡¯t get quippy with the High Queen of mother-fucking HEAVEN. Thought Ashera, trying to keep her thoughts internal.

    Lily¡¯s dimpled smile told her that no thought was private.

    I¡¯m sorry, how can I serv- uhhh, how can¡­ you serve me? Thought Ashera, stuttering her thoughts.

    Lily placed a hand on the suppression collar, mana flowed through it igniting the runes and making it glow with Heaven¡¯s light. ¡°Despite this collar I am plagued by visions of the future. Every night I am treated to the play of ten centuries. A thousand years of events that always end with my son¡¯s death. Your suffering is not unique, you are but one of the millions of victims, but you are one of the rare beings who defy their fate. None of my visions showed you as the revenant you are now.¡± Lily started, squeezing her eyes shut abruptly as her baby kicked.

    Her belly wiggled, moving more than Aleyander had at any point during Ashera¡¯s eleven months with him. Though, what did Ashera expect? The High Queen of Heaven¡¯s child would possess the power to level mountains with a sneeze.

    ¡°That may be true, but in every vision I see he always dies. I will not allow that. Which is why he led me to you.¡±

    Me? I¡¯m no one, a dead mage with a vendetta. Not god¡¯s wet nurse!

    ¡°You¡¯re certainly missing the equipment for that calling.¡± Said Lily, her relaxed gaze hiding the joke for an instant too long.

    Uhm¡­ Thought Ashera, working her jaw as she looked down at her bandages.

    ¡°I try, but Uther always says my humor is like a tsunami of cleavers-¡±

    Ashera could only agree with the Archon.

    ¡°Hush you! No more pleasantries, just look at your hand.¡±

    She glanced downward to see that her fingernails were discolored in a harlequin. As if they were metal losing their temper in a fire of coals.

    ¡°Listen, in hundreds of futures my son will lose his way three times, first when he discovers his heritage, second when he learns his nature, and thirdly when I lead him astray.¡±

    Discovers his heritage, why keep it from him in the first place? Raise him yourself and prevent the future you see. You are the High Queen, if there was any malice in you the Archon would have rejected you. Raise your son as you see fit, teach him to be honest, and do not conceal your love for him.

    ¡°Your faith in me is comforting, if only it were as simple as you say. Indeed I am the High Queen, beacon to humanity and enemy of half the universe. Our enemies must kill me for him to survive. There is no future where I am allowed to raise him, in every vision I try to keep him safe he falters, digging his own grave alongside mine. Ten thousand visions, nine thousand, nine hundred, and ninety nine deaths. A fate I know you can relate to.¡±

    Ashera shivered, wanting to gag at the profane blasphemy she was hearing. Lily continued without missing a beat, voice tensing as time ran out.

    ¡°Naomi will raise him, and as one who has accepted her boon you will be bound to aid my son.¡±

    Naomi? I¡¯m not Naomi¡¯s servant¡­ A migraine slammed into Ashera¡¯s mind, recoiling from the verboten knowledge as she came to know the Huntress¡¯ first name.

    Of course Lily is on a first name basis with the grandmother of humanity.

    ¡°Of course I am.¡± Said Lily, nonplused at the idea of name dropping primordial gods. ¡°Now do you agree to my terms?¡±

    Wasn¡¯t sure I had a choice¡­ Thoughts of Aleyander entered Ashera¡¯s mind. Choice or not she could only answer in one way. Aleyander and Ephraim¡¯s eyes compelled her from on high.

    As you wish, I will aid your son.

 Chapter 12 The Gift of Sight

    ¡°Excellent, now bleed on that unlucky coin of yours and pass it here.¡± Ordered Lily, removing her suppression collar.

    A very confused Ashera did as she bade, tossing the bloody coin to Lily. The coin landed perfectly flat in her palm, as if it had been called home without so much as a jitter. Blood, red and vibrant as the sun dripped from Lily¡¯s finger onto the coin. Silver metal flowed like liquid forming a perfect sphere of white metal, the hole Loki had pinched in the coin became its pupil with a starburst of striations rivuletting away from the orifice. Lily¡¯s hand extended towards Ashera and the sphere floated through the air, landing in Ashera¡¯s face and nestling itself within her eye socket. Bandaged flesh cooked as the silver sphere cooled, ensconcing itself within Ashera¡¯s mana circuits.

    The itch to blink had never been so overwhelming. Ashera squirmed, trying to blink her nonexistent eyelids as her natural vision restored itself then sharpened. The world focused in ways she had never imagined, colors were more vibrant, shadows were darker yet more transparent, the glare of sunlight on the water was visible to her enhanced eye, but so was the bottom of the river. Displayed in pristine visual acuity, as if it were inches from her face.

    ¡°Good, it¡¯s been years since I¡¯ve worked such fickle magic I was worried it might pop your skull like it did to the last mortal. Glad to see you are still with us.¡±

    Pop my skull?! What the fu¨C

    ¡°Our pact is now sealed in blood, death may claim your body, and hell your soul, but those are trivialities for my son to deal with. You will teach him the price of vengeance and be his destroying angel if the need arises.¡±

    All that and you want me to kill your son?

    ¡°Death seems to be working out for you.¡± Answered Lily with a shrug. She ran her fingers over her pale neck and clamped the suppression collar back into position, locking it in place with the flick of a finger. ¡°That eye will lead you to the succubus, it shows you the world as we Seraphim see it, so be conscious of where you look. Except when it comes to my children and the Seraphs, the eye contains a message for them.¡± Said the High Queen.

    Ashera¡¯s mind raced with revelations. A message from the second most powerful being on Heaven¡¯s side. In exchange for a single death? This deal seems weighted in my favor¡­ One life has no price, thank you Lily! But¡­ I¡¯m still confused, my body and soul has already been promised twice over, the King of Hell himself would not accept a thrice promised soul. So why would you?

    Lily held one finger over her lips and for one thousandth of a millisecond allowed her visual illusions to drop. Ashera did not blink. What she had seen made her question everything she had ever thought she understood. If she still had a beating heart, it would have stopped ¨Cand stayed still.

    ¡°As you can see my dear Ashera, it''s complicated. Let¡¯s just say our claim to your soul may rise to the preeminent claim instead of the tertiary. As for collecting on our pact, well, his blood mingles with my own.¡± Lily patted her stomach. ¡°He will collect on our threesome pact, even if you are dragged into the pit.¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

    Your humor needs professional help.

    Lily laughed, sounding more like a dozen distant church bells. ¡°I suggest you go find an animagus to rebuild your body, you¡¯re positively leaking mana. Get patched up dear. Then keep your vengeance pure. That orb in your other eye will try and make prey of the innocent. Do not allow it to best you or it will be your soul that suffers the price.¡±

    Yes, High Queen Lily.

    Thank you. For everything.

    Ashera used her new eye, setting off after the red cloud she saw in the distance. She would never be able to explain how she knew the haze was Lorelai¡¯s malice, she just knew that her enemy would be on the other side of the crimson mirage.

    ¡ª

    Lily stepped through the portal, not wanting to remain on Oathinaoin soil for a second longer than was strictly necessary. The whole continent wreaked with a thrice cursed mockery of life. Hell owned this land and the people who thought they were free of corruption were being raised like free ranging cattle. Growing fat on a diet of peace and familial love as the demons culled their numbers one city at a time.

    The portal opened onto the fertile gardens of their Sororian palace, the winter home of the Archon¡¯s court. Captain Liam fell into line behind his Queen, exuding a shadow of annoyance at the liberties she had taken.

    ¡°Out with it.¡± Ordered Lily, refusing to let his anger simmer.

    ¡°My queen, why give her your blood? She will see things as we do! Our Seraphs struggle with that power and you gave it to a revenant! An undead who understands nothing but the ill will that birthed it! Without reason and compassion our sight will drive her to madness and butchery. I do not understand what would possess you to amalgamate such an abomination.¡±

    Lily grasped his wrist and leaned heavily on him, as with all things he supported her, lowering her onto a nearby marble bench with a gentle touch.

    ¡°Thank you for trusting me Liam. I know your quarrel with the undead and how your nature would see her destroyed but in this case I had to bend the rules. Please forgive me, but Ashera cannot become one of us, she would grow in strength as an avenging angel to lead our armies through the night. Eventually she would surpass even my own ability for violence.¡±

    Liam was not at all pleased with her answer, his jaw clenched and a vein in his neck began to bulge, an odd emulation from his human life. Seraphim had no physical bodies yet their body language transcended death. ¡°Lily, why -in all that is holy- would you prevent an ascension!?¡±

    ¡°Because she wasn¡¯t enough. In ten thousand futures she was defeated. No matter how quickly she rose, or how much favor we gave her, she always failed to save my son. I explored elevating her into the Archon and she still fell short. Heaven itself granted her power but it was not enough for what is coming.¡±

    ¡°So you damned her soul? We are already losing this war Lily! You should have let her ascend, join our ranks! None of us are enough, but together, with Uther, Valerian, you, and your son we might be able to-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve decided on his name.¡± Said Lily, interrupting him.

    Liam¡¯s face turned cherry red, furious at having his opinion requested and dismissed before he could say his peace. His fury reminded Lily of his mortal self, when he was just her brother and not the High Queen¡¯s Knight Captain ¨Ca fancy title for a queen-sitter.

    ¡°His name is William, because his will shall decide our fates, and he¡¯ll need an uncle to look up to.¡±

    Joy and fury wrangled Liam¡¯s face, carving canyons as they fought a war of emoticons. His back straightened and he stepped back, taking several moments of heavy breathing to collect himself. When he finally spoke his face had cooled to the cherry red it had been moments ago.

    ¡°I¡¯m flattered.¡± He said, his tone dryer than a summer in Keresh.

    ¡°Ashera¡¯s path has only begun, even I, with all my foreknowledge, cannot say that her death prevented her ascension.¡±

    ¡°We must die before we can ascend, this is written on the gates of heaven.¡± Began Liam, citing the first meaning of the phrase. ¡°But none have ever returned from undeath! Her soul is claimed, not to mention fragmented! She would have to recover the pieces and- and¡­¡± He gesticulated by slamming both hands into each other violently.

    ¡°Heal her broken heart.¡± Said Lily. ¡°I know, and have seen a way it is possible. Though she cannot do it alone, no matter how many battles she wins, or how high she stacks the mountains of corpses, she will need William¡¯s help, else she will trip and flounder on the final whore.¡±

 Chapter 13 Paved with Good Intentions

    Ashera removed the bandages from her unlucky silver eye, its power could see through them, but the crimson mirage was a faint illusion, a will-o-wisp of malice that winked and shifted. In the morning dawn it seemed to be ahead of her, only to fade to the north by noon, and saunter through the evening dusk to end up in the south.

    No wonder the Seraphim are always on the move, I can¡¯t make any sense of this eye!

    It needs more power, you lack the strength to wield it. Whispered the Soul Sphere.

    Sure thing boss, i¡¯ll just nip on down to the soul market and pick up a few thousand extra mage souls, i¡¯m sure they have those just lying around. Grumbled Ashera.

    The Sphere quieted, with so many disparate souls bound within it, there was rarely a consensus on any course of action. Gathering souls and increasing its power seemed to be the only unifying purpose behind its constant nagging. But it still pissed her off when the damn thing kept repeating orders she was trying to follow! There were no nearby souls, her unlucky eye could see clearly enough for that.

    Until the crimson haze began to fade once more, this time the cloud shifted with her thoughts, settling over a distant hillock. Two unassuming hills smashed together, with a faint animal trail piercing the cleft. Ashera paused her march, waiting for the haze in her left eye to shift or clear. A half hour later it was still there, staunchly settled above the two hills.

    Movement broke the statuesque silence, as a brown wolf trotted down the narrow trail. It stopped, raising its snout into the air. Immediately the wolf¡¯s demeanor changed, eyes flick open and tongue running across exposed canines. Saliva dripped from its maw. Crouching low the wolf unzipped the hills with its tail, dashing out of sight between them. A yelp of pain echoed to Ashera, and the wolf reappeared with an arrow sticking out of its hide.

    Thunk

    A second arrow impacted the wolf¡¯s skull, piercing into the creatures¡¯ skull.

    On reflex the beast fled, sprinting away from the crimson hills, no doubt to die under a bush soon after. Ashera¡¯s curiosity piqued, demons and thralls preferred to see their victims bleed, eschewing bows in favor of blades. Meaning Asher had found a human camp.

    Lorelai and the four cardinal traitors were not skilled in archery. Rowan was the best archer among the Seventy Seven, Ashera grit her teeth. Rowan had been the best archer.

    Not wanting to spend another second thinking about her dead friends she marched towards the hills. The crimson fog faded as she approached, fading into invisibility as she entered the fugue. When she glanced back the way she had come the haze loomed to her left and right, a bloody igloo of malicious clouds.

    Hmm, the closer I get to the target the harder it is to find it. Feels like the back alley discount angel vision.

    Or you lack the power-

    Ashera interrupted the Sphere by reaching up and flicking herself in the black eye.

    Shut up. Lorelai could be in those hills, do not distract me or you¡¯ll never get your souls.

    She would be a better-

    She flicked the Sphere again, channeling it¡¯s magic to empower her flick. If I die, the last thing i¡¯ll do is shatter you with your own mana.

    The Sphere crunched into her skull with the force of Chuck Norris¡¯ roundhouse, finally silencing the purgacious souls as she hit the world with her cheeks. Ashera was thankful for her undeath, knowing the pain would have been unbearable, if she could have felt it. Rising from her ass she strode between the hills. Her fingerless hand found the hilt of Vesper¡¯s dagger, making Ashera snarl. Determined not to erroneously use her crippled hand she stuffed it into pocket, locking her elbow and gripping her dagger with her left hand.

    Blood coated the ground in front of her, a crimson arrow pointing at a young girl -no older than seven- holding a crossbow. She was looking down at the blood, eyes focused in wide eyed enthrallment. Ashera¡¯s shadow fell across the object of her obsession, startling the girl. She jumped in surprise, leveling the crossbow at Ashera with a shaky hand.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± She cried, voice more a whimper than a challenge.

    ¡°I¡¯m Aaaaayaaaaa.¡± Groaned Ashera.

    Her cleft tongue garbled her name, failing to communicate anything other than her first and last syllables. The girl¡¯s grip on her crossbow tightened with fear, accidentally sending a bolt racing through the air. Close as they were, she had no time to think, no time to duck or dodge or evade. A half second and the bolt pierced her hood, narrowly missing her throat.

    She raised her hands, showing that she meant no harm. The girl¡¯s mouth quivered with fear, she thrust the crossbow into the ground, cranking on the inbuilt wheel to cock the string. Her little arms struggled with the mechanism, taking more than a full minute to rearm.

    I could take her soul¡­ I should¡­

    <ol>

    <li> She¡¯s a child! If she were a mage then there would be no choice, but a powerless girl? I can¡¯t. </li>

    </ol>

    you should¡­ Whispered the Sphere.

    Ashera snapped her fingers, drawing the girls attention back to her.

    ¡°I¡¯m Aaya.¡± She said, sticking to phonetics that did not require the front half of her tongue.

    Now I know why Queen Lily told me to get patched up by an artificer. I sound and look like a ghoul.

    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

    ¡°Aaya?¡± Said the girl. She looked down at her half cocked crossbow, then up to Ashera¡¯s hands. ¡°What are you holding?¡± She asked, looking at Ashera¡¯s fingerless hand.

    With the sun to her back, her fingerless hand appeared closed. She twisted it back and forth, so-soing her appendage so the girl could see the truth. When she did her face fell, confusion evident in her next question.

    ¡°Why did you eat your fingers? Those are important!¡±

    Ashera¡¯s dead throat rattled with laughter. She nodded and pulled back her hood, displaying her bandaged head and awkwardly trimmed hair.

    ¡°Eemuus¡­ eee mmm nnn.¡± Ashera groaned, trying to pronounce ¡®demons¡¯.

    Fear brightened the girl¡¯s eyes and she cranked desperately on the crossbow, finally reaching full draw and loading a bolt from a quiver on her belt.

    ¡°Are you a demon?¡±

    Ashera shook her head, no, wondering how much a crossbow bolt would hurt her. Probably not much, but it would be another hole she would need to fix, and Vesper would be pissed that she put a hole in her dress¡­

    ¡°Show me your face! Why do you talk funny?¡± Demanded the teenie tyrant.

    Ashera considered a sleep spell, or an illusion, something small like a bird flying at the girl¡¯s nose could distract her long enough to¡­ Kill her? Deciding against violence Ashera gestured to her severed fingers then back to her mouth and covered eye. Her silver eye was uncovered, but there was nothing she could do about that now. With enough time ¨Cread as mountains of gold, and years of magic¨C Artificers could create prosthetic limbs, but she had never heard of a prosthetic eye.

    The girl¡¯s face softened ¨Ccrimson light surrounded the girl in varying strength, collecting heaviest around her torso¨C mouth forming an ¡®O¡¯. ¡°The demons cut your face and ate your fingers?¡±

    Ashera nodded ¡®yes¡¯.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Aaya, my name¡¯s Sara. Come see Grandpa.¡± Ordered the girl.

    Her hand found Ashera¡¯s and the girl half led, half dragged the woman along the thin trail, chatting as they entered a forested valley. From the exterior it had appeared as though there was nothing of note within the hills, but now Ashera could see the underground creek that dumped water into a hidden calley, shielded from the wind trees and shrubs grew freely forming a dense valley with a dozen wagons at it¡¯s center. Men moved around several fires smoking white meat and drying local fruits.

    They watched Sara and Aaya with hungry eyes that wandered across her padded bosom and wide hips, though what surprised her was how their eyes lingered on her distended belly. She had tried to hide it, but bandages and belts could only conceal a small portion of her paunch.

    Men were simple creatures, when they lacked companionship they became feral, crimson light collecting around all of them as Ashera passed. No women were visible, maybe it is a custom of theirs? The women of Keresh conceal their faces around anyone who isn¡¯t their family. But they did not know I was coming¡­

    An older man tended three fires, roasting large slabs of rump roast from what appeared to be a large boar, filling the air with the aroma of well cooked meat. Sara bounced with glee, licking her lips at what would be her dinner. It was then that Ashera realized how thin everyone was, no, not thin, gaunt. Sunken cheeks and knobby elbows peeked at her from every angle. Sunken eyes were lusting after her fat, jealous of her apparently healthy body. If only they knew I¡¯ve been dead for a few weeks.

    ¡°Sara, why did you bring such a strange stranger to us?¡± Asked the elderly man.

    Several men slowed their work, keeping a surreptitious eye on the stranger with the silver eye. Gazes flicked across her hands and belt, noticing the multiple daggers and shortsword there.

    Sara pouted, stomping her foot. ¡°You told me I should help people grandpa! Aaya needs help. Demons ate her fingies.¡±

    The old man looked expectantly at Ashera, she knew what he wanted but feared to comply. There were dozens of men in the village, and she was a lone woman, showing weakness could lead to unfortunate misunderstandings that would see more than one hole put in Vesper¡¯s dress.

    Thinking quickly Ashera weighed the cost of lying to them, at best they would kick her out, at worst¡­ they would peek up her skirt and realize she was undead, or try to use her and discover that fact when they tried to bump uglies. Truth it was, just how Ashera preferred it. After all, half truths made more mischief than a lie.

    Reaching to her face with her fingerless hand, Ashera lowered the bandages covering her mouth, when she stuck out her shredded tongue ¡®grandpa¡¯s¡¯ already sad gaze winced in sympathy, dispersing the crimson cloud that had been gathering around him.

    ¡°I see¡­¡± He said, stroking his unkempt beard. ¡°And the bandages over your eye?¡±

    Ashera drew her dagger and aimed it at her eyes, she spun the blade in small circular motions aimed at her right eye, then her left, sheathing Vesper¡¯s dagger immediately after. The message was clear, ¡®my eyes were cut out¡¯. Grandpa circled Ashera, noting that she was following his movement with her blind gaze.

    ¡°They were cut out, but you can still see through that silver one?¡±

    Ashera nodded, pinching her thumb and index together ¡®a little¡¯.

    ¡°Intriguing, I have seen the Seraphim artificers manufacture replacement hands and feet, but an eye? Never in my life! We do not have much, the siege at Juyoma was only lifted a few days ago so we are on our way to Gerscav, but we have been blessed today,¡± He indicated the roasting meat, ¡°and would be happy to have you for dinner.¡±

    If Ashera had still been alive and not numbed by undeath, her skin would have crawled. Everything about the man, the caravan, and the pocket orchard felt wrong. As if she were viewing the world through a mirror, movements were normal, but twisted in a facsimile that was no less accurate than the prime subjects. Ashera nodded, accepting their good will a millisecond before she cursed her birth. What the hell happens if I try to eat?

    Sara left them, returning to her post between the hills. A few hours later two men relieved her, sending her back to Ashera with a jackrabbit, two squirrels, and the dead wolf. Every man applauded her efforts, warmly encouraging her like a dozen uncles. Two of the men finished their duties and joined grandpa, taking over his fires.

    ¡®Grandpa¡¯ spent the time conversing with Ashera, her damaged tongue leading to hours of inquisitive charades. His annoyance at their game finally peaked when Ashera held her fists to her head with thumbs sticking up, her attempt at warning him of Lorelai¡¯s succubus nature.

    ¡°Bah, I¡¯ve had enough of this hullabaloo! Come here and stick out that damn tongue.¡±

    Ashera¡¯s spine tingled, glancing at the two nearby men before complying. Her magic had not yet recharged, if it came to a wrestling match, she would lose. Badly. She swept aside the bandages, sticking her tongue out for the old man to see.

    ¡°Kneel.¡±

    Her legs tensed as her fears came true.

    Let them touch you. Said the Sphere. Skin to skin contact is the second best way to absorb their souls.

    Loathing every second of life she, Ashera knelt in front of the old man, tongue extended. Grandpa¡¯s hands touched her cheeks, lifting her chin as his fingers slid to her mouth. Ashera¡¯s hand found the hilt of Vesper¡¯s dagger. Grandpa closed his eyes, remaining motionless for several moments. Air ionized, converting into ozone that stung Ashera¡¯s nose, making her taste buds tingle. Mana flowed from Grandpa into her shredded tongue, cells ¨Cenergized by a living soul¨C found the memory to repair, joining sister cells they had not seen in biotic eons.

    Ashera blushed with self disgust. These people had been nothing but good to her, they had welcomed her, put up with her dumb pantomime, and offered her their last rations. Why did she suspect them of being capable of assault?

    One word rose from the depths of her id.

    Lorelai.

    Stinging mana faded, Grandpa had exhausted his magic, the two men who had stood alongside him stepped forward, catching their patriarch as his body collapsed. They had come to lend their strength, not suppress Ashera¡¯s. Red shame shattered any vestige of pride. Broken did not begin to describe the state of her soul.

    I¡¯ll kill her.

    ¡°Thhhhank you.¡± Ashera said, feeling out her healed appendage.

    It strained and ground against itself, Grandpa wasn¡¯t half the healer she was, he had stitched her tongue through its center, creating a sort of soft skeleton that would press the torn ends of her tongue together. A crude but mana efficient healing spell that would have been sufficient if her body had any ability to repair itself.

    ¡°I¡¯m alright, Kai go grab my reserve.¡± Said Grandpa.

    Kai frowned, opening his mouth to protest.

    ¡°Don¡¯t give me no backtalk boy.¡±

    ¡°Fine.¡± Grumbled Kai, disappearing into the nearest wagon, sounds of a metal lock clinking open and a trunk lid slamming open echoed shortly before Kai re-emerged with a jewel wrapped in silver bands.

    Ashera recognized it as a mage¡¯s reserve, its size and silver banding meant it was most likely an import from distant Jaflin, city of artisans. How it ended up in Oathinao a continent away was beyond her imagination, but she didn¡¯t care. Grandpa was a mage.

    He breathed easier the moment the reserve touched his hands, mana flowing from the storage device into the mage who had charged it. Within seconds the man was glowing with blue power, his had found Ashera¡¯s cheek and the stench of ozone filled the air once more, knitting her tongue together once more. Now knowing what to expect, Ashera channeled her own mana, Grandpa¡¯s body tensed at the interference then relaxed, allowing her to guide their combined mana. In seconds her tongue was unified, made new by her knowledge of undeath.

    ¡°Euugghhhhh meh.¡± Ashera worked her tongue, blabbering incoherently for several moments to try and remember what speech felt like.

 Chapter 14 The Road to Hell

    Grandpa¡¯s name turned out to be Shin, he wasn¡¯t Sara¡¯s biological grandpa ¨Chaving taken her in during the siege¨C since her parents were long gone. They had left their home one day and never returned, having died or abandoned Sara. Ashera knew the distinction did not matter, she knew better than most how far survivors would go to endure a siege. What normally unthinkable things became daily musings, how corpses started looking. How no one would know if you took one bite. Just enough to survive another day.

    ¡°Aaya, you look scary again.¡± Sara said, while Ashera had properly introduced herself she did not have the heart to correct Sara¡¯s cuteness.

    Ashera started, sitting up straighter. ¡°Sorry, I, ahem, was thinking about Takioomi, before it fell.¡±

    She summoned a rainbow of iridescent sparkles into her hand, a mesmerizing array of color and varying lumination that stole Sara¡¯s breath and made her clap with delight. Distracting the girl from her next words.

    ¡°My illusions got us out a few months before it fell¡­ I heard one of the Princes broke the gates, walked right through them.¡±

    Shin nodded sagely, as if the ancient battlemage understood the illusions of a Trickster''s champion. ¡°You must be a far stronger mage than I ever was. I heard they started eating each other a few weeks into Takioomi¡¯s final siege. And didn¡¯t stop, not even after the city fell.¡±

    A frown entrenched itself on Ashera¡¯s face. True as his words might be, he should watch his mouth in front of his granddaughter.

    ¡°People find a way to survive sieges. I was fortunate enough to get contracted as a mercenary mage at the tail end of the second siege. That gave us the will to go hungry during harvests of plenty. When the demons returned during the third siege my company had plenty of provisions. Besides, those who¡­ -¡± she mouthed the word ¡®cannibals¡¯ ¡°always seemed to end up in trouble. They wouldn¡¯t come back from their patrols, or their next watch would be their last.¡±

    Shin¡¯s face closed in a way that Ashera couldn¡¯t understand.

    ¡°My apologies, I shouldn¡¯t have mentioned the ugliest thing first. I served under Inquisitor Gaheris during the first and second sieges of Takioomi.¡± Shin shook his head, recalling the city before the demons. ¡°We thought there was a chance after the first siege. Replanted the gardens, covered the city in food ivy and vines. When they retreated to the capital we thought it was our victory. Gaheris knew better, he imported a few hundred reserves and passed them out to every mage, he even kept a few to pass around the soldiers every night so we had the mana to resist during the second siege. A fine turd of a man, he never failed to do right, but¡­ Well, lets just say some of his deplorable orders follow me to this day.¡±

    He looked down, eyes landing on the reserve within his hand. Ashera¡¯s eyes told her what her human eyes could never understand, the reserve was three fourths full, within its crystal lattice lingered seven months of accumulated mana. A trove of power that she desperately needed.

    Take his soul. I am a better reserve than that shiny rock. Collect his soul-

    ¡°How did he die?¡± Ashera asked.

    ¡°Haha! As if he was dumb enough to get caught. Oh no, Gaheris is a Seraph, a cunning bastard too. Never entered a battle without six plans for victory. He¡¯s got the eyes of foresight, not as strong as the Seraphim, but I saw him dodge an arrow without looking on more than one occasion. Eyes on the back of your head ain''t half as good as eyes ten minutes into the future.¡± Said Shin, getting a giggle from Sara.

    She waved her hand through Ashera¡¯s illusion, scattering the lights into a column of fireworks and howling with glee at the show. Ashera¡¯s silver eye watched the mana disperse, fading from visible illusions into primordial energy that dispersed on the breeze, lost to the wind. Her fascination with her own spell caught Shin¡¯s eye.

    ¡°Speaking of eyes, I¡¯ve never seen a fancy one like that.¡± Said Shin, pointing at her face with his chin.

    ¡°Neither have I.¡± Ashera said, winking at Sara.

    ¡°A Seraph, no, a Seraphim put it in my skull. Took a silver coin and squished it into my eye. Hopefully it''s as pretty as my last pair of eyes. I don¡¯t think I''ll get a third pair. They are a little more difficult to swap out than socks.¡± Said Ashera, trying to lift the mood with all her guile.

    Sara¡¯s laughter did the heavy lifting, bringing smiles to Shin and Kai¡¯s faces. Ashera¡¯s silver eye witnessed the crimson mist fading as they laughed, their good natures combatting Lorelai¡¯s influence.

    When was she here? What did she leave behind? Shin and Sara are good people.

    ¡°Dinner is ready. Come get it while it¡¯s hot.¡± Shin called, passing out plates with the freshly cooked hind quarter.

    What happens when an undead eats¡­ Crap! If I can¡¯t digest it then I¡¯ll try throwing it up after they go to sleep¡­ Gross, but I can¡¯t exactly turn them down now! That would be too rude, and Sara looks like she is really enjoying the meat¡­

    Crimson mist darkened around them as Ashera took her first bite, the meat had been cooked in a familiar way with a seasoned crust and juicy interior. Familiar spices greeted Ashera¡¯s tongue, she jerked in surprise, knowing she had tasted this mix somewhere else. It was delicious. After her death she had never expected to find enjoyment in food, how had these refugees fed her something suitable for an undead pallet?

    She swallowed.

    ¡°Shin, this is great. What seasoning did you use? I feel like I''ve had this somewhere before but I can¡¯t place it.¡±

    Shin laughed heartily. ¡°Oh a little bit of this and that. We used to only use salt and one or two other spices, but we ran into a band of refugees who had a cook by the name of¡­¡± Shin stroked his chin stubble, ¡°Valerian¡­ Bearian? No. bah, I can¡¯t remember. Strange man but he sure could cook! Showed us how to use the seeds we found in this oasis and grind them into a fine paste. We have some purple chili peppers, worryweed seeds, a root that he called noseburn, and a few others.¡±

    ¡°Any chance his name was Balorian?¡± Asked Ashera, already feeling sick.

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    Shin pounded his fist into his open palm. ¡°Eureka! That¡¯s it! Balorian fancy-pants Lysandro. Ah, if you know his name have you encountered him before?¡±

    Balorian Lysandro taught them how to cook. That spoon licking backstabbing son of a bitch taught them how to cook while I died on the cross!

    I¡¯ll kill her.

    He has Aleyander¡¯s body, I need to find him before¡­ before¡­

    Ashera didn¡¯t dare think the words, refusing to conceive the thought. If she ignored that possibility, so might Balorian. Shin sat on a stump, watching her think.

    ¡°You look conflicted, was he an ex lover of yours?¡±

    Ashera couldn¡¯t help herself, she howled with laughter, making full use of her repaired tongue. Tears lubricated her synthetic eyes, she cleared them by blinking them away. Crimson mist collected around Shin and Sara, pooling strongest near their stomachs. Raising her fingerless hand Ashera spoke.

    ¡°He is a companion of mine. Damn chef was lucky enough to go on a trading run the day before this happen-¡± Ashera froze.

    Stunned by her fingers extending as she spoke. Her silver eye showed her the flow of magic, and her Sphere eye confirmed it, but she had not channeled any mana, neither had Shin. Crimson mist collected around her fingers, drawing something from within Ashera to repair her lost digits. She blinked, realizing it was more than her hand, her eyelids had been shredded when her eyes were taken ¨Cby Balorian¨C yet here they were, intact and functioning.

    Undead healing without magic¡­ Ashera looked from her fingers to the plate, crimson mist swirling through the air into her hand, her mind raced.

    What kind of undead was she? Lorelai and Lily had called her a revenant, but she had never heard of those. Vampires could heal if they drank blood, but she couldn¡¯t be a vampire, they only drank blood and hunted during the night, where Ashera had endured the sun for weeks without a hint of spontaneous sparkling. Liches were casters who had accepted undeath willingly, that was close to what she was, except she seemed to have no innate power. Though Ellin¡¯s leeching might have siphoned off that portion of her undeath.

    Ghouls and Ghasts could heal from consuming human flesh¡­ Ashera looked at the plate, then to the crimson mist gathering in Sara¡¯s stomach. Shin¡¯s earlier questions about surviving through a siege, little Sara¡¯s immediate attempt to kill her, the malice and lustful looks she had felt since entering the grove, everything lined up.

    Shin watched her fingers regrow and Sara clapped, her open mouth laughter as sinister as a banshee¡¯s wail. ¡°Looks like you just needed a good meal, You¡¯re certainly a stronger mage than I ever was.¡± Shin Said.

    Behind him, Kai stiffened, rising from his seat towards a distant wagon.

    They had been sizing her up to eat her. There were no women left because they ate the more tender sex first, Sara was too small ¨CAshera saw the girl tear into her second helping of human¨C for eating, and had probably escaped being dinner because she was good at disarming others.

    Channeling Sphere¡¯s magic into her silver eye she empowered the weapon, granting it the ability to decipher the crimson mist. It drained a negligible amount of mana, so small she barely felt it. Her silver eye deciphered the crimson mist, actively communicating what it had been showing passively. Cannibal corruption levels appeared near Shin and Sara, Shin¡¯s level was around three fourths, and the expected transition into a cannibal thrall would occur once he consumed fifty more pounds of human flesh. Sara was much closer to the conversion point, two more pounds of human flesh would complete her de-evolution into a thrall.

    Cannibals. She was having dinner with cannibals.

    Take their souls! Before they try to eat us! Screamed Soul Sphere.

    Kai emerged from the wagon, carrying a bottle of wine so thick with foreign alchemy that it might more accurately be called jello. Ashera considered their plans forming her own as she plotted, cannibals would not poison a victim, they would lure them in with hospitality and offers of kinship then put them to sleep. Then the coup de grace would come, fear gave the meat a bitter aftertaste ¨Cat least that¡¯s what she had been told in Takioomi¨C.

    How far will I go to kill Lorelai?

    Ashera steadied her face, slicing off another piece of the ¡®boar¡¯ on her plate and chewing it. She swallowed again, smiling warmly to Shin. ¡°After my tongue¡­ you know¡­ I forgot what real food tasted like. Thank you Shin.¡±

    ¡°You flatter me! Please, don¡¯t stop.¡± Shin said with a toothy grin.

    ¡°Although, I do have one complaint.¡± Ashera began.

    Shin¡¯s mouth fell open and Sara cocked her head to the side, chewing another morsel of human. Puzzlement plagued her face, as if she were trying to say ¡®it tastes fine to me¡¯.

    ¡°There¡¯s no wine to pair with the meal.¡±

    Snorts of laughter burst from the men around them, Ashera had been so focused on Shin and Sara she had failed to notice the three men sitting behind her, savoring their own vile vittles. The loudest snort belonged to Shin, whose shock seemed more pronounced than the others.

    ¡°Great mages think alike eh, Kai, where is our wine?¡±

    Kai was there before Shin finished calling for him, alchemical wine and several small cups in hand. He served Shin first, who made an all too deliberate show of drinking the wine, he even made sure that some whine lingered on his upper lip, a wine stache that Sara giggled loudly at.

    How many times have they performed this rouse? Is it even a lie anymore, or do they enjoy killing others. Like a hunter filled with satisfaction at a successful snare knowing their planning will feed their family.

    Continuing on, Kai served Ashera next, giving the bottle of sludge a concealed shake before pouring her an overfull cup. She downed it in one go.

    ¡°Delicious.¡± She lied, holding out for another.

    Kai¡¯s eyebrows flew away, ¡°Tis strong lady mage, ar-are you sure?¡± He stammered hesitantly.

    ¡°Scared I can¡¯t hold my liquor?¡± She said, wrestling the bottle from the overlarge cannibal.

    How many people have you tricked?

    Discarding her cup she settled into her meal, asking for seconds and drinking straight from the bottle, giving the cannibals the last spectacle of their damned lives. Sara wasn¡¯t immune, and soon found herself staring at Ashera with an empty plate and eyes wider than dinner plates.

    ¡°What?¡± Asked Ashera, holding out the bottle of wine she added. ¡°You *hic* want some?¡±

    Sara glanced at Shin, fear evident in her eyes --she knows it¡¯s poisoned¨C the small gesture strangled Ashera¡¯s last hope for the girl. Shin nodded.

    ¡°It¡¯s alright, you can have a taste. Just keep it to a Sara sized bite.¡± Shin said, holding his thumb and index apart to show how small a ¡®Sara sized bite¡¯ was. With a smile on her face she climbed into Ashera¡¯s lap, pressing herself into the older woman as she snuggled.

    My lap isn¡¯t for cannibals, your kind took my nephew and my son. I¡¯ll kill her.

    Raising the bottle to her lips Ashera helped her take a sip, receiving a wrinkled nose and much lip smacking as her reward. Sara¡¯s full faced wince made her push the bottle away.

    ¡°Eugh!¡± Groaned Sara, pushing the bottle away with both of her petite hands. ¡°It¡¯s icky-bitter! How do you enjoy that?¡±

    She buried her face in Ashera¡¯s padded bosom, clinging to her as if she were her own mother. Rowdy teasing began in earnest as the cannibal men mocked Sara. Ashera for her part patted the girl¡¯s head, taking a few moments to comb her fingers through the child¡¯s hair.

    Go to sleep little canary.

    Elderly eyes watched them, Shin feigning consideration as Sara¡¯s head nodded and drifted off to sleep.

    ¡°Her mother passed before I met her, and we are all former soldiers of Gaheris¡¯ army. Having another woman in our camp would lift my soul, is there any way I could convince you to join us? I can¡¯t offer much, but I am growing older, the day of my judgment is swiftly approaching. If you agree to look after her I will give you everything I have. Even this.¡± Shin said, raising his reserve for all to see.

    Gasps of surprise hissed through the camp at his Offer. Whatever artifice created the reserve had not been shared with the artisans of Oathinao, or any others across the world. Jaflin and the Seraphim themselves produced and regulated the trade of artifacts, turning the items into a restricted blessing that commanded a king¡¯s ransom for those who had been deemed worthy enough to purchase them.

    Old fool, your judgment is here.

    Rubbing her eyes, Ashera yawned. ¡°Ssounds great. Mhmmm dis win si tastey.¡± Ashera said, smacking her lips. ¡°Ssay, where can a girl layyy er ead *hic* fffor a nap.¡± She asked.

    ¡°You can sleep in Sara¡¯s tent. Kai will show you the way.¡± Said Shin.

    Strong hands trapped Ashera, cutting on any escape as they escorted her to a covered wagon. The ¡®tent¡¯ was nothing more than a fabric enclosed wagon for the women, dresses hung on the walls, tapestries of previous victims or trophies of prior conquests, it didn¡¯t matter. Ashera staggered to the wagon, putting on a good show for the men of the cannibal carnival. It wasn¡¯t the first time she had pretended to be drunk.

    Like Loki would patronize a champion who couldn¡¯t bluff drunkenness.

    They laid her on a bed of clothes, scooting Sara close to her and covering them both with blankets. A willow thin hand caught Ashera''s formerly fingerless paw and lifted it atop the blankets. Night fell, and men dispersed, leaving Kai and Shin as the only members on watch. Undeath had been good to Ashera, she was immune to alcohol as well as whatever alchemy they had tried to slip her. A few more hours and her plan would come to fruition.

 Chapter 15 Judgment

    ¡°We should kill the witch.¡± Said Kai.

    ¡°Sssssshhhhh!¡± Hissed Shin. ¡°Lower your voice or your throat will be the next one I slit.¡±

    He looked back at Sara¡¯s ¡®tent¡¯, appraising it with a trickle of mana to his eyes. If Aaya had heard them she wasn¡¯t stirring, in fact nothing was moving in that tent. A tingling terror dripped down his spine, the way she had healed her fingers meant she was a powerful mage. At least as strong as Inquisitor Gaheris was, and he was a full blooded Seraph, a direct son of an angel!

    ¡°Listen here you little shit. She is stronger than all of us combined and then some. Don¡¯t forget how many of us Tristan killed when you made a pass at Lorelwhore or whatever that ugly bitch was called.¡±

    ¡°Dad, that wasn¡¯t my fault! She bewitched-¡±

    ¡°I said shut up.¡± Ordered Shin, his eyes glowing with red mana.

    Fearing another of his old man¡¯s beatings Kai shut his mouth. Shin poked the fire with a mana shielded finger, stoking the coals with his bare hands.

    ¡°Eighteen, that¡¯s how many of us Tristan killed. The damn monster, if I knew he was a demon I would have let him wring your moronic neck instead of fighting back! Maybe then his whores wouldn¡¯t have killed every single woman we had! Damnit all. Do you know how hard it is to find a woman who will eat human flesh?¡±

    Kai swallowed apprehensively, shaking his head ¡®no¡¯, and fully expecting Shin to beat him senseless for the third time this week. Shin was a mean drunk, doubly so now that he had an actual reason to be angry, Kai might end up as breakfast.

    ¡°Don¡¯t touch her. Let Sara work her charms on that mutilated bitch. Maybe if we adopt her she can heal herself. The way her fingers sprouted¡­ She¡¯s stronger than Gaheris, let her go if it comes down to a fight. Tell all the men. I¡¯m going to sleep.¡±

    Shin stomped off, walking through two fires, the battle mage unhindered by the menial heat. Kai smothered the fire with dirt, he had no intention of obeying his father. One by one he roused the men, gathering a dozen of the remaining men. Mage or not, a dozen men could hold down a single woman, in the worst case scenario she might tag one or two of them, but they could always cripple her like the demons had.

    Try casting without a tongue or fingers. We¡¯ll cut you up and give you enough to heal yourself each day. An infinite food hack. Thought Kai, laughing at his own puns.

    Thirteen men approached the wagon they colloquially knew as the ¡®booty¡¯ wagon. Sara was one of the budding prizes they had taken from their victims, she had been three years old when they first found her, and Shin decided to raise her up right.

    Kai split the group into four squads, they needed to gag and bind the mage, Sara knew her roll and should have snuck out of the wagon by now, but Kai moved towards the bottom entrance, heaven help that girl. If she was cuddling with another one of their meals he was going to take her into the woods and make her cut a switch. Sara could only blame herself, he wasn¡¯t the one telling her to get attached or develop feelings for their targets. She knew what was coming. It wasn¡¯t his fault if she got too close.

    On Kai¡¯s signal the assault team ripped the wagon open, four men entered from the top and five from the bottom ready to hold Aaya down. They collided in the center, finding the wagon empty.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡±

    ¡°Where¡¯s the whore?¡±

    ¡°Shine a lamp you idiots!¡± Ordered Kai.

    Flickering lamplight filled the wagon, showing it vacant except for Sara¡¯s small body. Her face was blue, with purple bruises around her neck, fingermarks from where Aaya had strangled her in their sleep.

    ¡°She killed Sara! Find her!¡± Shouted Kai.

    His call was echoed by the others, four bands of hunters would find the ingrate ¨Cthey wouldn¡¯t even need an excuse now¨C and bring her down. Kai broke from his own group, sprinting towards Shin¡¯s tent, the battlemage specialized in fire magic, but his shields would be needed against another mage.

    Kai threw open the tent flap, falling inward onto Shin¡¯s legs. ¡°Shin! Get up, the woman killed Sara!¡± He yelled, shaking his legs.

    No response.

    Confusion filled the darkness, and blinded Kai to Vesper¡¯s dagger. Ashera caught his hair, pulling it back so the blade, enhanced by magic, could slice through his neck. Mortal flesh parted, spilling his life essence across his soulless father¡¯s corpse.

    Ashera¡¯s Soul Sphere twinkled in the darkness, absorbing one more wayward soul. She hadn¡¯t realized until now that neither her coin eye or Sphere eye required light to see, they could pierce complete darkness and highlight the cannibals with crimson mist. Mana augmented her strength, drained from her new silver banded reserve, allowing her to pull the larger Kai into the wagon, his neck snapped as she lifted him, leaving the ligaments to support his weight.

    Three murders¨C she shook her head, these weren¡¯t innocent people, this was no clandestine assassination, this was justice. Three executions had been performed, each cleaner than any fate the trio had inflicted on others. Sara went to sleep and never woke up, same with Shin.

    Placing one hand on Kai¡¯s back, she sucked the soul out of his body, a mere twig next to the ancient oak that was Shin¡¯s brilliant soul. Two years of mana circulated through her body and eye, she had never had this much raw power, she needed to use it, expend it on the wicked cannibals. Give them the slaughter they were seeking.

    Ashera envisioned three spells, casting each on a dagger in her belt. Vesper¡¯s twin dagger¡¯s lifted into the air, carried by a simulacra of Ashera, hood pulled over her face and cloak wrapped tightly around her. She removed the scent and sound illusions she might use during the day, and reduced the illusion¡¯s resolution, counting on the darkness to sell her lies. ¡°Go, slay all cannibals.¡± Whispered Ashera, issuing their raison d''etre.

    They scattered to the camp, blades seeking spines or necks. Ashera paused to cock Shin¡¯s crossbow, hoping to save some of her new power for Lorelai. How many centuries of mana will it take to kill Lorelai? Hmm, I can¡¯t risk blowing magic on these cannibals.

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    Exiting the tent she found her illusions reaping well. Six men lay dead on the ground with four idjits trying to tackle her illusions. A grin uncovered her teeth.

    ¡°Rot in hell you fools.¡±

    Sara¡¯s crossbow twanged, bolt cutting through darkness to hit a particularly gaunt fellow above his areola. Unintentionally titillating the cannibal.

    ¡°Aaaarrrrhhhh!!!¡± Screamed the man. Calling the attention of the entire camp. Men who had been asleep began to stir at the sound, blades scrapped against sheaths and several crossbows began creaking as dreary hands worked their cranks.

    Shin¡¯s crossbow twanged, this time the bolt pierced a man center mass, he collapsed, his Aorta sliced into ribbons by the bolt¡¯s broad head. One cannibal leapt from a wagon onto Ashera¡¯s illusion passing through every part of it except the blade it carried. Vesper¡¯s dagger pierced his side and stuck. His hands pinning the blade.

    Her illusions were exactly that, figments of trickery without form. They carried just enough power to swing a dagger, and even then it had to aim at a surface artery to be effective.

    Pinned in the dark, the illusion tried to hold onto the captive knife, the man tried to punch her in the face, finding his had passing through a ghost.

    Ashera had no intentions of losing her advantage, with a running start she wound up a kick ¨Chardening her leg with a month of mana¨C connecting with the man¡¯s temple. Propelled by the fury of a hung over Chuck Norris her roundhouse kick connected like a freight train. The man¡¯s skull popped open spraying gray matter across his fallen kindred.

    Enhancing her arms with mana, Ashera cocked both crossbows, nimble fingers pulling back the two hundred pound strings with ease. Darkness mocked the cannibals, and her illusions found two more throats. One of Kai¡¯s rapists remained, a man Ashera wanted to test her Sphere against.

    Her illusions circled, blocking any escape.

    ¡°What are the three things Loki hates?¡±

    The cannibal focused on her, hate in his eyes. ¡°Bitch! I¡¯ll kill you!¡± He howled.

    Ashera¡¯s pulled down her bandaged Sphere with a pinky finger, paralyzing the man as he saw a darkness that was infinitely deeper than the moonless night around him.

    ¡°Angels,¡± Ashera activated Sphere¡¯s soul stealing, ¡°Demons,¡± the man quivered unable to comprehend the agony that engulfed his body yet could not be felt. ¡°And malice.¡± Finished Ashera, ripping soul from flesh.

    Throughout the spell her silver eye observed Sphere¡¯s work. Noting the spell¡¯s limited range and ineffectiveness against wards. It also informed Ashera of how many living cannibals remained. They cowered in their tent wagons, or under them, easy prey for her knife illusions.

    ¡°I never killed cannibals during a siege, never got the chance they always defected to the demons once we found out about them. But cannibals when you have food around you? You¡¯re not even animals.¡± She called, taunting the cowards.

    One by one they died. Stabbed to death, or from a crossbow bolt to the back as they fled from the knife ghosts. Each of their souls were caught by Sphere, granting a few more minutes of mana to their executioner. By dawn the camp lay silent. Blood soaked the tents, a tribute of death to placate eternal vengeance. Ashera stepped on Shin¡¯s face.

    ¡°Enjoy your judgment.¡± She sneered, grinding her heel into his nose.

    She spent the next eight hours looting the camp, checking every nook and cranny of the wagons with her silver eye; what had once been an unlucky coin now showed her loose boards and secret cubbies with gold or daggers stored. Any meat was discarded, added to the pile of corpses along with bloody clothes. She would give the victims a burial by fire, at least then their bodies could not be desecrated further. Hitching four horses to the largest covered wagon she filled it with swords, dagger, and crossbows, selecting the choicest weapons for her coming vengeance.

    Inside Shin¡¯s tent she found the second most valuable item in camp, a dagger with a large sapphire set in the hilt, a hidden reserve that would allow any wielder to draw on the reserves¡¯ mana; including her illusions. As extensions of herself the mirror image illusions could enhance their strength, fortify the dagger, or act as a second origination point for further spells.

    An exceptionally fitting find. This will be perfect for dealing with Nerus, and I already know how to use it against Tristan.

    Ashera hefted her two reserves tapping on the mana within them, power flowed through her to fill the dagger, a single measly month of mana. While the remainder of the reserve entered Sphere, better to have the mana where she could access it quicker, and if the need arose she could sell the empty reserve.

    A muffled moan broke with the dawn. Ashera nearly leapt out of her skin, she was certain everyone was dead! What was moaning? Drawing one of Vesper¡¯s daggers she advanced towards the sound, it had come from a covered wagon she had thought was empty, crimson haze lingered over the wagon. Odd, since it had dispersed from most of the camp already, except near the pile of bodies though that was due to the concentration of cannibals.

    This silver eye seems to require some finesse¡­ I understand why Seraphs or Inquisitors seemed so fickle now. They could see some things, but the answers aren¡¯t always given to you on a silver platter.

    Swapping Vesper¡¯s dagger for the short sword, Ashera lifted the flap that covered the wagon¡¯s mouth, piercing its orifice with stealth as she slipped inside. Crimson haze rose from¡­ The floor? She tapped on the wood, poking it with her sword tip until a groan burst from beneath the wagon¡¯s floorboards. By the guiding sight of her silver eye Ashera found the trapdoor she had missed, lifting the false floor she found the source of the crimson mist. A woman lay in a narrow crawlspace between the false and true floors, held in place with foot long iron spikes, identical to the ones that had held Ashera on the cross.

    She was so stunned she could only stand ¨Cmouth opened¨C and gawk at the cannibal¡¯s work. The woman was in a sorry state, dried blood covered her, skin a patchwork of different tans, as if she had been left to dry in the sun, with pieces of flesh cut off her, then healed.

    ¡°How are you alive?¡± Wondered Ashera, her words snapping her out of the trance.

    Leaping into the crawlspace Ashera tried to free the woman¡¯s right wrist, she pulled on the iron spike fruitlessly.

    Damnit, i¡¯m a weak little bitch, and they drove these spikes in deep enough to hold a Lycan!

    Craven sigils on the spikes caught her eye, runes, etchings that guided mana and could enhance the properties of whatever they were carved into. It gave her an idea, channeling mana through her limbs she empowered herself, ripping the spike free with brute force. Ashera reached for the spike in the woman¡¯s hand and froze. Brown claws extended from the woman¡¯s fingertips, a Lycan.

    So that¡¯s how you survived¡­ They nailed you to a wagon and carved off meals until your regeneration ran out¡­

    If she had been alive, Ashera would have vomited thrice over. As she was, she leaned back, looking the woman in the face. The Lycan¡¯s eyes had been taken, as had her nose, ears, and lips, leaving behind a bloody wreck that moved Ashera¡¯s undead heart to pity.

    ¡°Swear by your Mother that you will not harm me, and I will free you.¡±

    ¡°nnuuu¡± Was all the woman could manage.

    ¡°What?¡± Gasped Ashera, flabbergasted by the woman¡¯s refusal. ¡°You would rather stay pinned and rotting than swear by the Huntress?¡±

    ¡°untress¡­ yes.¡± Groaned the woman, voice raspy.

    ¡°You swear on the Huntress that you will do me no harm if I free you?¡± Demanded Ashera, rising. She would leave if the woman refused, Lycans were natural enemies of demons, but they were hunters first.

    Killing one human woman was well within their modus operandi.

    ¡°...yes.¡± Groaned the woman. Coughs raked across her naked body, highlighting the patchwork skin.

    Flashbacks to the river where Ashera had seen her own stretchmarks melted her resolve.

    ¡°We have a deal.¡±

    Ashera freed the woman, removing the iron spikes in her arms and legs, as her limbs came free the woman brought her limbs into herself, curling into the fetal position. Curiously, the wounds did not bleed, but they did not heal completely, some vestige of Lycanthropic healing lingered within the broken woman.

    Her hands curled to her neck, sparkling in the crimson haze of midnight, exposed copper wires twinkled at Ashera¡¯s silver, weaving in and out of the woman¡¯s neck. If the wire had been sewn into her flesh ¨Cor tightened so harshly it cut into her then was left in place for the skin to heal around it¨C Ashera couldn¡¯t tell.

    ¡°Damn monsters.¡± Ashera swore, mana enhancing her fingers so she could break the wire.

    The woman groaned in pain, her throat too parched for anything else. ¡°Hush dear, I know it hurts now but I¡¯ll get you free. You survived. There is food and water, but no meat. Sorry but I can¡¯t trust any meat in a cannibal¡¯s camp.¡±

    A rattling wheeze escaped the woman¡¯s lips, a half laugh as she was lifted free of her metallic bindings and carried into the center of camp. Ashera clothed her in blankets and fed the woman, watching in morbid fascination as the woman¡¯s face repaired itself, nail holes in her arms and feet sealed as she ate, the meager rations enough to rejuvenate the Lycan¡¯s absurd healing factor.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± Said the woman, her voice already sounding better.

    ¡°Holy shit, I wish I could eat a few nuts and my face would get that pretty.¡± Ashera said.

    Her teasing was interrupted by a throaty growl. She turned, finding a dozen crouching wolves aimed at her throat. That wasn¡¯t what scared her though.

    The nine foot tall wolf ¨Cwith muscles that made Rowan look like a toddler¨C was a foot away from her, teeth barred.

 Chapter 16 Lying Allies

    ¡°Down Cassian.¡± Ordered the woman.

    Nine feet of rippling werewolf turned to face the woman, its throat wiggling as flesh molted to obey its whims.

    ¡°We just found you! Why do you allow an undead to care for you! Enough talk, destroy it now!¡± Shouted Cassian, roaring the word ¡®undead¡¯.

    Hackles raised as the wolves approached Ashera, their once tranquil eyes filled with Cassian¡¯s fury. She counted quickly, knowing there were too many for her illusions to work against. Canine anatomy differed from human anatomy, she was not sure where the arteries or spine was, or if there were intervening ribs or scapula.

    Escape was her only option, but she would need to enhance her body to outrun the wolves, pairing illusions to conceal her sight and scent-

    ¡°I said down. By the Huntress you will not harm this woman. Dead or not.¡±

    Wolves shimmeyed with confusion, uncertain if they should lunge or flee, Cassian knelt, breaking the lupine indecision over his knees. Lacking a hierarchy they scattered into the nearby forest, fleeing the chaos of unbelonging until the Lycan¡¯s worked out their pecking order.

    ¡°Diana, we are here-¡±

    Diana?

    ¡°Enough bitching. You left me here! Do you have any idea what those cannibals did to me? If I had the strength I would take your flesh as payment. Do not dishonor the Huntress¡¯ word any longer or I will strip your blessing.¡± Yelled Diana.

    Her angry tone confirmed it, this was the woman who had given Ashera the Soul Sphere.

    ¡°How did you get from Ellin to here faster than I did¡­?¡± Ashera wondered aloud.

    Her hand zipped to her mouth, covering her flippant blurting. Too late. Cassian¡¯s three fourths wolf head shifted in her direction, with Diana peeking over his shoulder.

    ¡°Ellin? I left the woods six months ago.¡± Said Diana.

    Understanding flicked Cassian in the forehead, his ears flicking as he blinked rapidly. His head sank in an ocean of shame. ¡°Forgive me, we were deceived. A demon mimicked your form and has been leading us since the solstice, we only understood what she was when she encouraged me to¡­¡± Cassian cleared his throat, deeply uncomfortable with what he was about to say.

    Diana bit through a roasted chestnut, famished by the toll of conversation. ¡°Where is Elara?¡±

    Cassian shut his mouth, flexing his jaw. ¡°Wounded, when my other half refused the demon¡¯s orders we were lead to our banes. Five demons, one greater, four newborns, they tore us apart with weapons that cause us to bleed even now. Elara is on the brink of death.¡± Cassian¡¯s voice caught in his throat, an overmoist mouth struggling to speak.

    ¡°We left Ellin to heal, but¡­¡±

    ¡°It might be too late.¡± Finished Diana. She washed the single chesnut down with a draught of water, wrinkling her nose at the tepidity. ¡°I lack the power, these animals¡± ¨Cshe raised her middle finger to point at the pile of bodies¨C ¡°drained my power with a reserve. Find it.¡±

    Fear trickled down Ashera¡¯s spine. Knowing that the item they sought was now in her pocket, drained of all mana, not just what had already been stolen. Her hand slipped into her dress, retrieving and producing the mage¡¯s reserve.

    ¡°Uhm¡­ I drained the reserve to kill them¡­ Sorry.¡±

    A vein burst in Cassian¡¯s yellow eye, furry-ious that his twin¡¯s cure had been consumed. He raised his head to the starry night and howled for everything he was worth, making the ground tremble.

    Diana snacked while he howled, mind working slowly from her long imprisonment. After the howl she raised one finger, pointing to Ashera¡¯s waist. Specifically the dagger with a reserve.

    ¡°You freed me and wrought vengeance on my captors. I cannot steal from my savior, the Huntress would never forgive such a travesty of justice, but¡­ Will you lend me your strength once more?¡±

    Her supplication took the wind out of Ashera¡¯s wrath, she already lacked the mana to kill Lorelai, giving away what little she had was foolish. She should take the mana and the wagon, let the Lycan¡¯s struggle on their own. They were Lycans, healing is what they did, they gave up their humanity and any innate power for the ¡®gift¡¯ of Lycanthropy, especially its healing power. Ashera¡¯s eyes fell across the silent form of Sara¡­

    We¡¯ve done enough evil for one night. She thought.

    Drawing the dagger she handed it to Diana, pommel first. ¡°While I drew breath, healing was my primary study, with illusions as my secondary. I will lend you my strength if necessary, but you will need to repay that favor.¡±

    ¡°Monster,¡± Cassian spat, ¡°You would trade our lives for your selfish greed!¡±

    ¡°Shut up Cassian.¡± Diana said, accepting the dagger. ¡°You were deceived once, consider this the Huntress¡¯ price for that sin. And remember, only the living can pay their debts.¡±

    Cassian turned, claws tearing into the ground as he sprinted into the woods, howling for the wolves to join him. Diana pressed the pommel into her bare chest, draining the reserve. Immediately her body improved, where her cheeks had been gaunt, they were now plump, her patchwork skin blended into an even olive tone, smooth and gorgeous. Enough to make Ashera blush with envy. Her eye sockets filled with repaired eyes, her nail holes healed completely, leaving behind smooth skin. Transformation complete, she began eating voraciously, tearing into every pure ounce of food.

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    Ashera sampled a few morsels as well ¨Choping to gain one thousandth of Diana¡¯s beauty¨C but found the food dry and flavorless, as if she were chomping on ashes in the desert.

    Of course¡­ I¡¯m undead. She nibbled on the raw rabbit that Sara had caught the day before, and found that its blood tasted like savory brown gravy. Without realizing what was going on, Ashera consumed the rabbit whole, animal flesh mingling with her own and repairing her body. Bandages grew tight as her missing mammories regrew, her pelvis and canal tightening, a uniquely unpleasant second puberty. She yelped and slid one of Vesper¡¯s daggers up her dress, slicing through the bandages.

    Laughter taunted her plight, earning Diana an evil glare from Ashera.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but you just gave new meaning to fucking like rabbits.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s disgusting!¡±

    ¡°Did you see what you did to that rabbit? Wolves don¡¯t eat half as violently as you just did, and they tear apart elk ass first.¡± Said Diana.

    Ashera¡¯s lips parted in laughter, covering her face at the stupid joke. ¡°Puberty hits differently the second time around.¡±

    Now it was Diana¡¯s turn to cover her face at the bad joke, groaning with laughter. Which is how Cassian found them, sitting in the dirt trading unfunny jokes next to a charnel pile of cannibals. He set Elara down beside them, using his oversized Lycan form to hold her body together.

    Dozens of open wounds covered Elara¡¯s body, oozing puss and fresh blood in an endless stream. Diana joined Cassian, pinching one of the feculent wounds closed and channeling healing mana into the wound. Puss squirted out of the wound, redirecting and wasting the healing mana.

    ¡°Stop. The wounds are cursed somehow.¡± Ashera warned, pushing Diana away with a gentle palm.

    ¡°Can you lift it?¡± Diana asked, eyes imploring her.

    ¡°No way, I¡¯m not a Seraph- I mean, I can¡¯t see curses¡­ hmm¡­¡± Ashera¡¯s voice trailed off, ideas formulating in her mind¡¯s eye.

    Empowering the silver eye she examined Elara, the wounds were indeed cursed, venting a diminutive black mist that emptied Elara of mana as effectively as it drained her blood. The silver eye guided her, and Ashera unwound the bandage from her face, revealing the Soul Sphere. Dispelling the curse was far beyond her skill, but the magic used reminded her of the Sphere¡¯s inner depths. Aiming the weapon at Elara¡¯s nearest wound she tried stealing the curse, channeling mana to mimic the way the eye stole souls. Ten thousand pinpricks of ink rose from Elara to the Sphere, absorbing the curse and consuming its power.

    The process made Ahera¡¯s eye tingle, as if needles were constantly piercing it to enter her skull, but Elara¡¯s wound closed on its own, healed by her innate power.

    ¡°Ow¡­¡± Breathed Ashera, holding one hand over her black eye.

    ¡°Please! Keep going!¡±

    Diana swatted the Lycan¡¯s snout. ¡°Cassian, I''m about to cut out your tongue, be silent. Magic isn¡¯t as easy as it looks. This would take me days, maybe weeks to heal-¡±

    ¡°Its fine,¡± Interjected Ashera, starting on the next wound.

    Following the black leaks she absorbed each curse, adding its mana to her own reserves of strength. The conversion process from curse into mana stung, but pain no longer hindered Ashera, crucifixion had cured her of that human frailty. When it was done, the sun had risen to its pinnacle, Cassian and Diana¡¯s nude bodies glistened with a hint of sweat. Cutting clean figures when they bracketed Elara blood soaked form. Curses dispelled, Elara stirred from her bloody repose and was immediately engulfed by a blanket from Diana. Muscular arms wrapped her in a hug, Cassian opening weeping at her return.

    ¡°I thought I lost you.¡±

    ¡°Ouch, Cassian, ease up, everything hurts.¡± Complained Elara, snuggling closer.

    Ashera knew her work was done and tried to stand, shaky legs hewed her sideways, sending her tumbling back onto the dirt. Shadows covered her face, Diana¡¯s hand hung over her. She laughed at how their positions had reversed so quickly, from a crucified Lycan to a tired undead, accepting the offered hand with a smile.

    They vacated the twin¡¯s reunion, Ashera silently thanking Diana for the escort. Her voice choked, remembering how Lorelai had escorted her through Ellin on the cursed day of her birth.

    ¡°Hey, Diana¡­ have we ever met before?¡±

    ¡°No, or at least not that I remember, revenants are rare undead, usually they act like rabid cats. Erratic, aggressive, and with only a shred of their living cunning.¡±

    Her words troubled Ashera¡¯s weary mind, she wasn¡¯t tired like a human would be, she was exhausted in a way that came from exorbitant mental labor. With clouded thoughts and sluggish wills.

    ¡°It would have been in Ellin Forest, I was crucified and your pack fought the succubus who did it-¡±

    Diana yanked them to a stop, turning a stern face to Ashera. Canines grew past her lips and gold colored her eyes.

    ¡°A succubus?¡± She growled.

    ¡°Uhm¡­ personal space, your fangs are showing.¡±

    Diana blushed, leaning back slightly as she wrangled her agony. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I just feel so¡­ so tricked. So used. The succubus must have worked with Shin to trap me, then wore my face.¡±

    Ashera grunted, body going ridged with shock and paralyzed with alarm.

    No, it couldn¡¯t be. Geruvah wouldn¡¯t give me the Sphere¡­ That¡¯s impossible! She killed me, and i¡¯m going to kill her! What kind of twisted stupidity is that?

    Diana wove their arms together again. ¡°Looks like she tricked you too-¡±

    ¡°It makes no sense!¡± Shouted Ashera, startling her escort. ¡°Why would Lorelai, or Geruvah kill me, crucify me then give me this Soul Sphere while wearing your face?¡±

    Darkness colored Diana¡¯s face, hooding her eyes and tightening her mouth.

    ¡°Did you say¡­ Geruvah?¡±

    ¡°What about it, have you fought her before, do you know how to kill her?¡± Questioned Ashera, picking up on the killing intent a few seconds too late.

    Claws wrapped around Ashera¡¯s forearm, making her bones creak like they had on the cross.

    ¡°OW, that hurts Diana.¡±

    Pressure vanished, replaced by the acrid scent of grinding teeth. Diana¡¯s figure shifted erratically, parts of her altering into her Lycan form, while others shifted into her human self. It took almost ten minutes for the rampaging forms to quiet, settling on the human figure of Diana.

    ¡°Geruvah isn¡¯t a succubus, she is a first daughter to the Night Mother- oh¡­ That¡¯s why you asked me to swear on the Mother instead of the Huntress. She tricked you into a pact¡­¡±

    ¡°But that makes no sense Diana! She had already tricked me into a blood pact. One where I my benefit is to kill her! There is no possible way she would give me power if that were true!¡±

    Diana worked her jaw, regenerated the teeth she had ground down.

    ¡°Kill¡­ The Night Mother¡¯s first children, her direct line, cannot be slain. Their corporeal bodies can be destroyed, but that is no hindrance to them. They may simply move into a body and possess them, or recreate their old bodies by fusing enough thralls with the desired characteristics. Fleshcraft is simple to Hell¡¯s firstborn.¡± Mused Diana, talking through the problem.

    ¡°So Geruvah raised me from the dead to¡­ Kill her worthless body? Diana, cmon. Don¡¯t be ridiculous.¡± Ashera chided.

    Silence blanketed their patrol, the ladies lost in thought as they walked through the looted wagons, this time Ashera was careful to compare the outside of the wagons to their internal dimensions, making sure there were no more hidden atrocities. To her eternal peace, there were none, concluding their patrol.

    ¡°Geruvah, that is a twisted name with a dozen interpretations.¡± Said Diana, beginning to list them.

    ¡°Geruvah, the hero, craftsman hero, hero made manifest, artisan hero, ugh¡­¡± She grunted, face curling in disgust.

    ¡°The man who makes the hero.¡±

    ¡°Okay, I think you were trapped in the trunk too long. Lets get you somewhere to cool off, you¡¯re spouting nonsense now. Succubi are female, incubi are male-¡±

    ¡°They are mockeries of humanity, they exist to twist humans until they break, and a first daughter would have evolved the most obscure jabs over their millennia of existence. You helped me, so I will commune with the Huntress in return. Mayhaps we may find a way of destroying your benefactor. Though, I must warn you, a thousand Lycans in exchange for Geruvah would be highway robbery. You seek to dismantle a primordial evil, a succubus whose powers rival the Seraphim Lords. It may not be possible.¡±

    Ashera shrugged, ¡°Take your time, I¡¯ve got all the time in the world. Whether it¡¯s tomorrow or ten thousand years from now, I will destroy the thing that stole my life.¡±

    The moon orbited in front of the sun, casting a noon eclipse across the world, at its darkest center stood the Huntress, not two feet from Ashera. Her dress flowed across reality like the starry night, hair billowing like a hundred monsoons, and her eyes dazzled with cosmic lights, sparkling galaxies that winked and spun like dozens of tiny pupils.

    ¡°And I will help you.¡± Said Humanities¡¯ Grandmother.

 Chapter 17 Grandmother

    The Huntress, grandmother of humans, patron god of motherhood, Lycanthropy, wolves, painful truths, and balance, stood in front of Ashera. Diana faceplanted into the dirt so hard that Ashera thought she evaporated. Power washed over them, instantly filling the reserves on Ashera¡¯s belt, though it avoided the Soul Sphere.

    The image of the Huntress, burned itself into Ashera¡¯s mind ¨Cand would have melted her eyes if they were still flesh¨C as it was, Ashera could smell cooking flesh, and fell to the ground alongside Diana.

    ¡°Daughter of woe, lady of ashes, you are the preparer of Geruvah. Slay her fiends, Lily¡¯s eye and your human empathy will guide you to them. There you must remember the antithesis of Geruvah¡¯s guardians and feed them their bitterest pill, the thing that their souls yearn for but can never receive from her. But know this, when you have cleaved through her thralls and stand with your blade in Geruvah¡¯s chest. Call out her name three times. That is the herald by which you will announce her executioner. Brightest soul, have patience, the call may take ten thousand years to reach his ears, and ten thousand more for him to answer. You must endure. Do not allow your fingers to slip or all will be lost.¡± Said the Huntress.

    Light covered the world, and as suddenly as she had come, the Huntress was gone. Ashera scrambled forward, drawing a dagger and carving the Huntress¡¯ words into the dirt while they were fresh in her mind.

    Ten minutes later Diana handed her a ledger, with the divination already inscribed in its cover. The book was bound with thick hide and was made of strange parchment ¨Cthat Ashera would later discover was human skin¨C an unimportant detail compared to the oath of a Goddess.

    She called the High Queen of the Seraphim by her first name. Ashera shivered. Marveling at how she had managed to stick her nose into the face of every deity she had spent her life avoiding.

    Why me? Dieties rarely showed themselves, yet Ashera had met three in as many months. Diana folded her arms, tucking her clenched fists into her elbows.

    ¡°I have served the Huntress for eighty years and she has never shown herself¡­¡± Diana whispered .

    Ashera thought back to when Loki refused to answer, at least a demon didn¡¯t torture your best friend to death¡­

    ¡°Wanna trade lives?¡±

    Diana jerked her head to the side, confused by the proposal. Ashera caught Diana¡¯s arm, guiding her back to waiting Lycans.

    ¡°It¡¯ll be simple, you¡¯ll just resurrect me, oh and my whole family can¡¯t forget them, not sure how you¡¯ll convince my husband to stop being a demon, or forgive him for crucifying me, or cheating on me with a succubus-¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve made your point.¡± Diana growled, interrupting Ashera, but Ashera wasn¡¯t done.

    ¡°Don¡¯t forget, your god has to abandon you first. Loki knew there was a demon in Ellin but didn¡¯t warn me, in fact he waited two years before talking to me. I didn¡¯t need a manifestation from Heaven, a letter would have been fine. Ellin forest is pretty hard to search, but a messenger or an answered prayer would have been enough. Something like, hey Ash, you¡¯re sleeping next to a demon.¡±

    Silence. Diana stared at the ground, eyes hooded. Fully understanding the depth of her fuck up. Wishing she could take back her thoughtless words. Ashera yanked her to a stop, planting a bone dry kiss on her cheek.

    ¡°Muwah! You¡¯re forgiven.¡±

    Whiplash nearly broke Diana¡¯s soul. ¡°What?¡±

    Ashera shot her a knowing smile, whispering into her ear. ¡°I¡¯ll never forget what the pain of death. How my lungs burned, my body failed completely, muscle after muscle refusing to obey, I couldn¡¯t even scream. There is no way in life or death I would hold a grudge against you for being snippy after your own crucifixion.¡±

    Is that the right word? It happened in a wagon¡¯s secret compartment, but wagonixion sounds like a bad martial arts trope and secret compartment ixion is too wordy. Ashera thought.

    Her intrusive thought was obliterated by Diana throwing herself into Ashera¡¯s arms, tears flowed freely, coating Ashera¡¯s neck. ¡°I¡¯m sorry! Thank you for saving me.¡± Diana cried.

    Ashera patted her back, letting her cry her way to catharsis, whispering soft affirmations in her ear. By the time Diana was finished it was growing dark, the only light cast from a cannibal fire. Wolves knawed on horse bones, cracking them open so supping at the marrow. Six horses remained, considerately left alive for Ashera to pull her loot wagon.

    Why aren¡¯t they eating the people¡­ Lycans eat dead humans all the time, they even hunt some humans. A Lycan is the one who told me young orphans make the most tender steaks.

    Seeing her confusion at the cannibal fire, Cassian spoke up. ¡°After the soul has departed a body is only meat, but cannibals¡­ These were thralls, no longer human. The demon you hunt corrupted their hearts, she broke anything pure that remained within them. Especially the girl, she fell hours before you slew her. Tis a shame you could not free her from the flesh prison she became¨C¡±

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    ¡°That¡¯s enough Cassian.¡± Ordered Diana, feeling Ashera¡¯s body tense as Sara was mentioned. ¡°We are leaving, I must communicate the Huntress¡¯ prophecy to the high priestesses and seek their council. Ashera, thank you for freeing me from damnation. I hope we meet again, as friends.¡±

    The fickle nature of the Huntress was well known to Ashera, but the prophecy was not a warning, it was a weapon that forecast Geruvah¡¯s demise. Greater demons were closer to ideas than corporeal beings, and the Huntress¡¯ words gave her the key to their locked souls, she knew how to break them open and scatter their existence. Reincarnation, possession, and rebirth would all be inaccessible then, their only freedom would come at the tip of Ashera¡¯s daggers.

    ¡°We will always be friends Diana, I will not disappoint the Huntress. My whole being is devoted to the mission she gave me, for it is the mission that kept me in this world.¡±

    Diana nodded, swallowing hard as she recalled her priestess instruction back in Ansit¡¯s landing. There, in the Huntress¡¯ grand temple she had learned many sacred secrets, like how to bless a mage¡¯s unborn child, or deliver children, the true nature of demons, why Oathinao was doomed, and how undead came to be. Vampires must give you their blood, zombies must bite then kill you, draugr are born from coalescent darkness, and revenants are created when a soul awakens to a singular purpose. A desire that drives the body beyond hunger or thirst or life itself, an obsession as well as an addiction. Should a revenant ever forget their purpose, they would cease to exist.

    Don¡¯t forget Ashera. She thought, waving goodbye as her pack jogged into the night. Human skin became a lustrous coat of fur, her arms lengthened, her legs thinned, shifting into her lupine form to run faster. They would run through the night and day to reach the high priestess, the Huntress had broken every tenet and taboo to bless a revenant.

    ¡ª

    A sigh of relief escaped Ashera¡¯s lips, she trusted Diana to keep her word, but a dozen wolves and three Lycans still put her on edge. Howls sung their travels to the moon, giving Ashera the perfect nighttime echo-mark to navigate away from.

    Channeling mana to her silver eye, Asher picked up Lorelai¡¯s trail, guiding the wagon through the glimmering night, no longer obstructed by mortal limitations.

    Days passed, with Ashera only stopping to water and rotate the six horses, she pushed them hard, hoping to close the gap with the crimson fog. Soon she found the road to Gerscav and her pace skyrocketed, encountering dozens of refugees. Merchants carried their wares, weapons, armor, and most covetously, food. Farmers ¨Cfresh from their fields and covered in dirt¨C, drove their wagons slowly, often pulling off the road to sell their harvests to the refugees. Half the wagons, scores every hour, were empty farm wagons, returning home to gather the next load. No one traveled alone, and all bore weapons to compliment their hollow faces. Ashera saw several families chewing on grass, their clothes hung on skeletal frames.

    Survivors of a siege.

    Rumors of the dark skinned Songhaians liberating Juyoma reached Ashera¡¯s ears.

    Lies, and trickery. Oathinao is a proving ground for Songhaian warriors, no Ansit deploys more than their youngest warriors to help us. And who can blame them? We lost this war when the capital fell.  Thought Ashera.

    Her bandaged eyes drew disapproving glances, but her ever deepening sneer chased away any gawkers. These people were being baited, given hope so the demons could torture them later, extracting their suffering like a farmer plucks an apple. Pain was their bread, agony their salt, and woe their dessert. Hell had deliberately lifted the siege, Ashera was sure of it, just as they had feigned retreat at Takioomi, whichever archdemon was leading them knew how to break humans on a continental scale.

    Siege a city, starve the people to the point of cannibalism, retreat from an allied force, let the city repopulate, let them enjoy real food, then return and siege them again. Ashera whipped the reins of her horses, driving them past a group of humans who the crimson mist clung too. She wanted to stop, yank the carriage to a halt and kill them all.

    But there were too many. Half of all Juyoma¡¯s refugees were covered in the crimson mist, like spiritual bloodstains it collected near their mouths and stomachs, confessing their crimes to her silver eye¨C

    ¡°Gaaahhhh! Please no! Let me leave! I¡¯ve done you no- Aaaahhh!¡±

    Ashera pulled back on the reins, slowing to watch twelve armored footmen stab a pleading refugee. Their armor was emblazoned with two black roses, crossed in an X, the crest of Juyoma, a homage to the lovers who drowned themselves in Lamenter¡¯s lake so their parents could not marry them off to foreign nobles.

    Crimson mist covered the pleading man, proving that he had indeed done someone great harm, Ashera felt no pity for the man. He was reaping the rewards of his borrowed survival. Checking his progression to a thrall, he was nearly gone, six pounds of human flesh was all he needed to leave his humanity behind. Four of the footmen alternated stabbing him, expeditiously executing the man.

    ¡°Move along!¡± Shouted a man with red lacquer on his breastplate ¨Can inquisitorial agent¨C brandishing a tattered scroll. ¡°We have a warrant for this spy!¡±

    The crowd of people that had stepped off the road to avoid the conflict scattered, loosing interest so quickly that Ashera wondered if the man had cast a spell.

    No magic, this must be a normal day for them.

    Hands caught Ashera¡¯s arm, yanking her to the edge of her seat. On reflex she resisted, planting her feet she channeled mana through her body, strengthening herself. Twisting in her seat she punched the footman in unarmed face, breaking his nose and sending the man sprawling across the highway. Onlookers scattered, no fear in their eyes. Yep, just another day.

    Vesper¡¯s dagger appeared in Ashera¡¯s hand, standing on the wagon¡¯s bench. ¡°Touch me again and you¡¯ll be lucky to lose a hand!¡±

    A woman traveling alone would be easy prey for disreputable guards, a fate Ashera had no intention of repeating. Tristan had been her only, and would remain so, even after she sent him straight to Hell. Twelve footmen surrounded her wagon, taking hold of the reins at the horse¡¯s mouths.

    Their captain ¨Cthe man with red lacquered armor¨C knocked on the side of her wagon, pointing to a symbol painted there.

    ¡°Miss, where did you get this wagon?¡± The Captain asked.

    Ashera weighed her odds, twelve footmen wasn¡¯t a guaranteed win, especially with an inquisitorial agent involved. She could use the wagon to ward them off, that would buy her the seconds she needed to kill a couple, her illusions would take another, but that left eight of them. Too many for her illusions to fight, she would have to escape and leave all of her plunder behind, all of her weapons and resources that were meant to help her kill Geruvah.

    Without the horses my speed will halve¡­

    She shrugged, then bore her teeth at the man. ¡°A pack of cannibals invited me for dinner, they were terrible hosts so I killed them and took what I wanted.¡±

    The Inquisitorial agent recoiled as if she had struck him, wincing as Ashera admitted her crime. Farmers pulled off the road, keeping a wide berth between the brewing fight and their wagons. Laughter, unfiltered and loud, burst from one of the onlookers. Face turning red with fury the agent spun on the source of laughter, ready to order the man beaten. When his eyes saw the white haired man with silver lined clothes he went white. Face deflating as he saw the Inquisitor laugh.

    ¡°What do you find so funny Inquisitor Gaheris?¡± He asked.

    ¡°She is telling the truth. Every last word. How is old Shin?¡± Gaheris asked, his glowing white eyes meeting Ashera¡¯s silver.

    She jerked away in pain, closing the eye and covering it with her hand. Mana circulated through Gaheris¡¯ eyes in the same way she circulated it through her silver eye, creating a feedback loop as the spells resonated.

    Ashera reached into her dress, retrieving the empty reserve and holding it out for all to see.

    ¡°Shin is dead. Though not before he told me you were the cause of his bad habits.¡±

    Mouths dropped at her accusation, all twelve footmen pressed forward. Spears aimed at her throat.

 Chapter 18 Inquisition

    ¡°STOP, DO NOT TOUCH HER.¡± Gaheris ordered.

    His words were a typhoon of mana, each syllable battering the footmen aside, throwing them bodily away from the carriage. Horses spooked, thrashing in their harnesses and backpedaling, Ashera anchored the reins with mana filled hands, steadying the beasts.

    ¡°Whoaaa.¡±

    She was grateful for the space his words had bought her, Gaheris¡¯ had used compulsion, one of the Seraphim gifts that allowed the owner to command humans, bind them and force blind obedience to the spoken order. Its potency shook Ashera, with a single sentence the Inquisitor could turn a city into a lynch mob.

    ¡°Have you ever eaten human flesh?¡± He asked.

    Ashera swallowed, meeting his silver eyes with her own. The light stung, but what was pain? Gaheris was truly blessed, a close descendant of heaven with the eyes to see things as they were and the voice of command.

    ¡°Shin did not tell me what he served. I cleaned my plate to create an opportunity.¡± Ashera sneered, wrinkling her nose at the memory.

    ¡°So did I.¡± Answered Gaheris, his eyes narrowing to examine her eye. ¡°That eye¡­¡±

    He was silent for several moments, long enough for Ashera to notice his companions, the first was a dark Songhaian warrior who held a forward curving sword in his hand and a round steel shield, power radiated from him. Evidence of his channeled mana. Next to him stood a middle aged woman, plate armor covered her body from toe to neck, her helmet and gauntlets tied to her backpack. There was nothing feminine about her, from her midnight skin to the black horns growing out of her skull. Hair the color of sunlight made the contrast stark, painful to look at.

    She looks like one of the Inobli, a race of nomadic warriors that Loki had shown her images of, when he was complaining about how they couldn¡¯t take a joke and had chased him for three months.

    ¡°Let me kill the waif. Then we can get back to the war.¡± Growled the woman in a voice that sounded like gargled glass shards after breakfast, and enjoyed it.

    Gaheris shook his head at the muscle mommy, ¡°That woman is the Archon¡¯s emissary. Go ahead Budresh, try to kill her. And know that when you fail I will execute you just like I did to your tribe, except this time there will be no afterlife.¡±

    Budresh went very still, slowly folding her arms ¨Carmor clinking¨C, as if the Inquisitor¡¯s words were weather chit chat. No surprises there, the Inquisition existed to hunt demons, but they had strict limits set on them from the, effectively omniscient, Seraphim. Killing a city of thousands was permitted, so long as they spared those who could be redeemed. Which came after years of interrogation, or military service to the Inquisition.

    ¡°Am I free to go? I need to kill Ger- a demon.¡± Ashera asked, tapping her foot against the wagon¡¯s boards impatiently.

    Gaheris¡¯ eyes widened, his lips pulling back to show his teeth. He facepalmed.

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    ¡°Do you have any idea what that silver eye says when a Seraph beholds your face?¡± Gaheris asked.

    Ashera shrugged, ¡°No one has handed me a mirror. So how could I?¡±

    Gaheris¡¯ face went slack, then it broke into a cackling smile. Escalating to a riotous cackle. Several uncomfortable moments passed, with the soldiers looking everywhere except at Gaheris, while his two attendants leered at their boss, frowns depending with every ¡®ha¡¯. Budresh finally interrupted the Seraph with a fist to the back of his skull.

    ¡°Why are you laughing like a maniac?¡± She shouted.

    He staggered forward from the blow, landing on one knee as he rubbed the back of his dome with one hand. Healing mana engulfed his head, leaving Ashera to wonder exactly how hard the Inobli woman had hit him.

    ¡°Ouch, I keep you around to hit others! Not me! Ahem. Captain this is where I leave you, continue your patrol and keep the peace. Kwarohn, Budresh, I hold your oaths fulfilled. You may only remain at my side if you no longer wish to live.¡± Said Gaheris, stepping onto the wagon.

    His presence made Ashera¡¯s skin crawl, like he was an entomancer and a thousand miniscule insects were running up her skirt. ¡°Ugh!¡± She cried, shoving him off the wagon.

    Gaheris plopped onto his ass, a whoosh of air leaving his lungs.

    ¡°Who said I wanted you to join me?¡±

    ¡°Fuck! What is with you bitches and hitting me! That hurts damnit! Don¡¯t you know I''m an Inquisitor, I could have you both crucified!¡±

    ¡°What did you expect Gaheris? The whores may call you a ladies man, but only after you have opened your purse. Try explaining things like a sane human and you might get a reasonable response.¡± Kwarohn added.

    ¡°There is no reason left in this world.¡± Gaheris grumbled, turning to Ashera. ¡°You need to find an Animagus right? Do you think the Inquisition left any of those masters within reach of the enemy?¡±

    Find an animagus. Those were High Queen Lily¡¯s last orders to her, find them before going after Geruvah. She ground her teeth, knowing what she had to do.

    ¡°Fine, but! Get in the back, you give me the willies.¡±

    Gaheris opened his jaw to protest, only to be cut off by Budresh picking him up and tossing him bodily into the wagon, joining him in the back a second later.

    ¡°Would you quit manhandling me you biceps-brain? It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t enjoy it, but we are in public! I have a reputation to uphold.¡±

    The silver eye detected no mana, making Ashera thankful for her undead body¡¯s lack of reflexes when she realized Budresh had tossed the inquisitor, armor, weapons, and pack, ten feet into the air on her natural strength alone. ¡®Nomadic warrior¡¯ my ass! This woman is a siege tank, an armored catapult.

    Kwarohn joined Ashera on the driver¡¯s bench, pulling an amulet with the sign of the Inquisition ¨Ca stylized red tree with an ¡°I¡± in the background¨C and displaying it for all to see. He snatched the reins from Ashera, whipping them forward. Ashera raised her hand to smack him, and froze when she saw the look in his brown eyes. She had seen that glint twice in her life, both times it came from a man who was more likely to cut your throat than utter a word. Kwarohn was not a warrior, or a sellsword, or an Inquisitorial agent, he was a killer. One whose attitude sucked, but that was to be expected from a bound Songhaian.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t he just¡­ Free you two?¡± Ashera Asked.

    ¡°Death will not free me from my oaths. Neither can Gaheris.¡± Kwarohn Said.

    Her silver eye scanned the man, no heartbeat, no bloodflow, definitively answering her unasked question as ¡®undead¡¯. Alarmed, she turned to face Gaheris, and found him watching her, chomping away at one of her apples.

    ¡°Like peas in a pod.¡± He said.

    ¡°You better pay for that, and it aint cheap. Had to eat a human to acquire it.¡±

    Gaheris coughed. ¡°Now that I¡¯ve joined your team, money is the last thing you should worry about. I have the full backing of the Inquisition, and their pockets are deeper than a whore¡¯s¨C ow!¡±

    Budresh flicked his ear, making it flop forward and hit his cheek.

    ¡°Stop making this uncomfortable. It is enough to die fighting.¡± She said.

    ¡°I would rather kill my enemies.¡± Ashera said.

    ¡°As would I.¡± Said Kwarohn.

    ¡°See!¡± Shouted Gaheris, ¡°Peas. In. A. Pod!¡± He said, punctuating each word with a knife hand gesticulation.

    I¡¯ve joined a circus¡­ Or wait, they invited themselves! A circus joined me! Thought Ashera, settling into the bench to meditate. Her eyes closed, and her muscles relaxed in the undead version of sleep, a half waking sense of suspended animation. It felt as natural as sleeping, a sensation she had not felt in¡­ a month? Two months? Ashera couldn¡¯t guess how long ago she had slept.