"Quit it grandpa." The young upstart jeered as I shook my head again in protest. "We have prepared food for you, and you will eat it."

"But I have no way of paying you." I quickly responded, speaking through the facemask in a muted voice. I looked around the small campfire at the others. Night had fallen, and I had stumbled into this little camp. The fire was grand and there were rabbits roasting over the fire. Shadows danced between the trees and on the thick tree trunks surrounding the campsite. Though the darkness scared the others around the bonfire, it did not bother me one bit. I looked at it, and the first thing I thought of when I laid eyes on that impenetrable dark cloak, I thought only one thing: Safety. It was a shroud in which to hide, and a shroud in which to wait until danger passed. Now however, there was no danger nearby. At least no danger to me.

"Then you can tell us a story." A brown-haired young boy said with a grin on his face. At least he looked a boy to me. Fifteen years old maybe. I chuckled.

"What meagre payment! A meal for a story? If only I was so lucky every night." I joked and leaned back against a tree trunk. I did not lean too hard, or else it would snap like a twig. "What sort of story do you want then young one?" I asked.

"I am not a 'young one' anymore!" The young one replied, and the rest of the gathering giggled.

"Have you been in a war?" One of the others chimed in. This one was definitely younger though, but I could never have guessed by how much. I chuckled, that was everything the kids were wanting to know about these days. Wars this, battles that.

"Nothing like I was in my youth. Or my entire generation for that matter." My eyes fell on him and the girl next to him. Siblings? "How many wars do you want to know about boy?" I asked with a laugh. They sure were spirited.

"All of them."

"Tell me your names first then. I wish to know who I am sharing my stories with."

"Kay" The first one said.

"Mile" The second boy said.

"Khrysta." The girl said, and after that, chaos descended and the remaining names were delivered as a cacophony.

"Settle down children. It is not polite to bother a stranger like this." The man giving out food said and waved the ladle at them. This was a common occurrence it seemed, for he did not spill a single drop of soup in the process. I waved at him and shook my head.

"I do not mind at all." I said. "It is the least I can do to pay for the food." The children all turned to the man and a chorus of "please!" arose from the young ones. I kicked some of the dry earth away and picked up a small dry twig. I ground it to fine dust and threw it at the fire. The man tried to resist the children, but he was drowned out. People came from the other fires as well to find out just what the commotion was about. If I could, I would have smiled, but my face remained still as stone, as it had always done. The sky was clear and stars shone down on the little gathering in the middle of the forest. A set of parents came over to join the struggling man. The children settled down a little, but I could not stop myself from laughing at the sight. The man's wife joined in, and the subject seemed to wander around me for a few seconds.

"The children don't need their heads filled with no tales of war." The wife said.

"I have lots of tales that don't include no war." I said, making sure to use the double negative. These people had probably never even heard of the word grammar. None of them could probably even write. "I can tell you about some strange creatures that roamed the land when I was young. Come close." I said, and sat the wooden bowl down next to me. The smell of burnt fur hung in the air. The children fell quiet until all that could be heard was the sound of the fire crackling, and the song of a lonely bird somewhere far away.

"It all started when I was a young boy, much like yourselves. My father had a farm far outside the city. I guess you do not know it, but that does not matter." Already the children had locked their eyes on me. "I remember those times well. There had just been crowned a new king, and he had been graced by all the five gods. Balthazar, Grenth, Dwayna, Lyssa, Melandru, and the last one you surely know."

"Kormir," One of the children said, and the others nodded. I did no such thing.

"Well, the gods do not protest at least." I muttered to myself. "Moving on! The new king, feeling generous as he was, gave offerings to all the gods, but he favoured one god more, the sixth god, and this did not go well with the other gods." I took a theatrical break and exhaled deeply. "Year after year, the king sacrificed more to the sixth god than all the others, and as their jealousy grew, so did the country become darker and darker." I paused for a few seconds to let the introduction sink in.

"What happened?" One of the younger children chimed, but all the other kids hushed at him. I turned my gaze on him, but made sure that the shadows underneath my hood covered my eyes. Leather rubbed against leather as I moved.

"It was small at first, but the farmers noticed it first. One week, I remember my father doing so, he walked into our pastures to find two of his six cows dead. Their throats had been cut and their bodies showed signs of gnawing. Their flesh was spoilt as well, for my father tasted the blood and vomited at once. It was poison from serpents. The next day, my father sent my oldest brother, Kelm, into the city to buy weapons and traps."

"Why would you need weapons? I thought it was serpents that killed your cows." Another young boy chimed in. The response was the same and he got hushed at as well. I looked up from the youngest part of the crowd, saw some of the adults there as well. Mothers were holding a hand on their children's head and their husbands stood not far behind. It struck me as odd that they were all armed, but these were uncertain times, like always.

"You are right little boy. They were serpents, but the cows had been killed by swords. Sure, they were bitten, but it was the blades that had killed them. 'Bandits or something' my father had said. My brother came the same night and we placed snares around the pasture. Father sat up the entire night watching his four remaining cows, but nothing happened. My father spoke to other farmers the next day, and similar things had happened all over the countryside. Still, all we could do was wait. We waited one day. We waited two days. Nothing happened, but when a week had passed, the bandits struck again. Two more cows lay dead on the pasture, their blood rank with poison. As we burned the carcasses, we saw smoke rise into the air from the other farms as well. The farmers gathered, and tried to make some sense of the killings. They spoke to priests who came and blessed the grounds, but when a week passed, the bandits killed again." Once again I paused to let the message sink in. The next part of the story might scare them a little.

"Are you ready for the scary parts then young ones?" I asked, and leaned forward putting my hands on my knees. They all nodded in unison. "However!" I exclaimed, startling some of them. "Old man Sabef from the next farm had seen the bandits, and ran to get us when the sun rose. All the farmers gathered 'round him to hear what it was he had seen. Some of farmers laughed, and some of them called him a fool. Can you guess what he had seen?"

"The bandits!" One of the children exclaimed.

"True, but there was something special about them."

"Did they have serpents for pets?"

"No, they did not have serpents for pets." I laughed, though the notion of it might not be so unlikely. After all, I never studied the arch-enemy to that degree.

"Were they monsters?" The girl Khrysta asked. I pointed at her with a gloved finger and nodded.

"Monsters they were. Huge serpents, slithering away from the scene of the crime and into the night. A night much like this one in fact. The same day, the farmers who believe old man Sabef set out, following the trail of the serpent-man to his lair. It was in a dark hole near the see, or so I was told anyway, that the serpent-man made his home. Where he could hear the waves crashing against the rocks. So, old man Sabef and his men laid in wait with sharp spears and axes. For seven days and seven nights they waited, until the beast emerged, and it was a terrible sight indeed! It had glowing green eyes, and as soon as it laid eyes on the humans, it drew a wickedly curved blade. With a loud hiss, it charged them. It fought without mercy and slew many of the men, including old Sabef." I took a pause, measuring the atmosphere. The parents had probably heard a thousand stories like this one, but not with serpent-people. Few these days had heard of them and fewer still knew the real name of the race. Or their purpose for that matter. "A day later, Sabef's son came crawling back, carrying his father on his back. He had spoken to the beast, and brought a message to us." I put on a strange, hoarse voice to impersonate Nat. In the meantime, the parents handed out the grilled rabbit for everyone to eat from.

"'I come bearing a message!' he said and slumped his father onto the ground. 'The beast comes from the gods! They are angry with the king, and take it out on us! Until the gods are pleased, they will keep killing our animals!' He shouted. He was bleeding from his side very bad, and my mother rushed to his side to look at the wound, but he just pushed her away. 'We killed this serpent, but he promised that more shall come.' He then fell to the ground, and stopped breathing. The children had all huddled together. I leaned back, sufficiently pleased with my little performance. It took them a moment to realize that the story was in fact over. Their scared little eyes watched me closely, hungry for the next part of the story. It was obviously never going to come. In the morning, I would leave them and walk my own ways again. When they finally caught on, Khrysta was in fact the first one to speak up. The rabbit reached me and I passed it on without even looking at it.

"What happened next?"

"That is a story for another time." I replied. Looking up at the parents, they were nodding approvingly. It was late, and the children were best sent to bed. "But what did we learn children?" I asked. It was something I had picked up from my father. He always asked what my brothers and sisters and I had learned from the stories he told, and there was always some secret or hidden meaning that only he, the old coot, knew of.

"Learn?" Mile asked, speaking up for the first time. He was a quiet kid. He sat there, unmoving all the time. "That the king was stupid, and we must respect all the gods equally?" He seemed very sure of himself when he answered. It was wrong of course.

"That is not it." I said. "Look deeper young Mile, and you might see the truth." All eyes focused on him now. His face reddened as he strained what little intelligence he had.

"That the gods can be cruel?" He said, and I nodded.

"Indeed. The gods can be cruel, unjust and angry." I answered, and some of the parents raised their eyebrows. "They are living beings just like us. Surely you all know of the civil war against The White Mantle?"

"They are too young to learn about the horrors of that war." One of the parents said, sounding bitter. The war must be fresh in his mind it seemed.

"And that is for the best." I replied, and the adults nodded. "Now children! Find your blankets and go to sleep, the hour is late and you should have been in bed already." The children pleaded for one more story, but their parents shut down any attempts at rebellion. The children were all sent away. Some of the eldest, like Khrysta were allowed to stay. She seemed deep in thought, and that was well. A challenged mind able to change was exactly what I was looking for. Silence settled until the children had all fallen asleep. A mother passed between them, singing a simple lullaby that I remembered well. The words were different. In fact, the song had in itself changed. There were different intervals here and there, but the tonal structure of the song was basically the same. From where I sat, I hummed the original, and then I understood the change completely. What she was singing was the version used for backing up the primary singer, the "second voice" as we called it where I came from.

"Come over here child." I said to Khrysta. She looked nervously around, but no one seemed to mind. The elders were busy talking about where to go next. They debated going to some city or fort to get help from the local garrison. She scooted over and sat as close to the fire as possible. "Are you freezing child?" I asked, but I could see her goosebumps. She nodded hastily. I threw another log onto the fire and pulled my cloak off. "It may not be much," I said and placed it over her shoulders, "but here you go.

"Thank you." She stuttered and pulled the cloak around herself. It was mainly made of leather with fur lining and a thick woollen fur sown in on the inside. It should keep her warm. We sat there in silence, watching the flames. Her eyes were empty and tired, but for some reason she had not gone to bed like the others. In fact, there were no one else at her age who was still awake.

"What are you running from child?" I asked.

"Why would you care?" She asked back.

"You remind me of my daughter." I lied. "She looked almost like you, but she had dark hair instead of golden, like yours. Your eyes are the same though." She kicked a small rock and sighed.

"Centaurs attacked." She said. "We were sent away, before the attack happened." She sniffed a little. "Mum and dad haven't told us anything, but I think our houses are burnt down." I put my arm around her.

"Do not cry little Khrysta." I said while trying to comfort her. "You can rebuild, and the centaurs will pay. Evildoers always pay." I said, and now I did not lie. It seemed to be the truth of this world. Those who did evil was conquered, usually by some upstart hero with an unshakeable moral compass. So why had we been defeated? My people and I. All of us, defeated. Our leaders were slain and became scattered by the winds only to be hunted. Luckily, I still remembered the times when we ruled the seas and travelled by its surface.

"The army surely won't help us. We're just simple farmers." She said, trying hard to hold back the tears. I pulled her close and let her rest against my arm.

"You may not need the army." I said slowly to her. None of the adults seemed to pick up on the conversation. "Have any of you heard about the War of the Six Gods?" I asked, speaking up so that all of the adults heard me. They turned their heads with a puzzled look on their faces. One of the women turned their eyes on Khrysta and back to me with a suspicious look. "Her mother then." I concluded.

"None of us have. We're have not one scholar amongst us." The first man I had first spoken to said. His name was Owyn Hammer, and his wife sat next to him. They were both brown of hair and wore tattered clothes. Underneath his left shoulder I noticed a small bandage. "But please tell us of it. We need some stories too." He said and let out a small laugh. My crowd was a bit smaller, but I would indulge them my services.

"It is actually the continuation of the story I told your children." Looking down at Khrysta, I just hoped that my clothes made my stone-hard features soft enough to rest herself against.

"So you speak the truth?" The man asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Of course I do. I delve in mysteries, not in lies." I answered sharply. I straightened my back and assumed my full height, assuming the posture of a warrior, not that of a beaten old human. "As time passed, the serpents grew stronger and attacked in numbers beyond the power of mere farmers to fend off. We turned to the local army, and they were defeated too. I enrolled into the army then, and served as a warrior on the frontline. I was among the First Seared, under the command of Captain Keme. Heh... Our job was mainly to die holding the serpents back until the slingers could throw rocks at them. I remember it well. At the battle of the Velvet Gate, I was first in line... It was the fifth day, and the serpents had broken through the gate the day before. They came pouring at us through the gate and we held the line. They hissed obscenities and called us heretics. I slew more serpents that day than I have any other day. I remember how they came charging in their golden armour with their weapons raised high. Spears rained, and we were driven back between our houses and our homes. The day was theirs, and we lost the city. Mitanni it was called, and we sailed away from it as it burned. The First Seared was broken, and I and five others survived. Their names were Jokut, Akhentan, Seti, Tentamun and Manyx. Captain Keme fell on the pier buying us time to escape. Our rest was short. Having taken Mitanni, the serpents fell upon our capital city, Nubya. We were rushed off the boats and onto battlements anew. The walls of Nubya were taller and made of stone, and our king were there with us, but we were not the only ones with a strong position. The serpents had drawn out their full strength. Mighty siege-weapons flung rocks and bolts flew at our walls, but we were good builders, their weapons often got hit by our weapons as well. The siege lasted for two years, and during that time, we saw that worshipping the five 'true' gods of old got us nowhere. They had turned deaf ears to our prayers. Our prayers all went to the sixth god. That just made the serpents angrier and stronger. Every day the rocks rained over our city, but their siege-weapons were in larger numbers than ours. In the third month of the second year, the walls fell. First, the western wall fell, and the breach was painted red with our blood as we fought desperately to hold it." I paused the tale as the memories washed through my mind again. The blood of my comrades on my hands, the screaming of those who were captured, begging us to kill them. I had killed many of soldiers because of it. A spear through the chest always did the job. Khrysta seemed to have fallen asleep, but her head slipped off my elbow and she woke from the fall. Her mother still looked at me the same way.

"How many were there in the battle?" One the other adults asked.

"And your name is?" I asked back, turning my head to look directly at him.

"Gyle." He answered.

"Gyle. Tens of thousands participated on our side. The serpents must have had hundreds of thousands." I answered.

"Did these serpents have a name? Where did they come from?" Gyle asked.

"We called them The Undoers, Slaughterers, take your pick, but we never learned their true name, and no one else has either."

"If your capital fell," Khrysta said before she yawned, "how did you survive?"

"Our king was not a complete idiot, and he knew where we excelled and our enemy did not." I said, and paused. " Our king had ordered a massive fleet built, and when the city fell, he set it alight himself and we all fled across the sea."

"Were you saved?"

"Far from it dear Gyle. The serpents gave us a year before they had built a fleet of their own. They sailed after us without a single moments delay. We built strong citadels and mighty towers, but our enemy was not afraid. They crashed upon the shores, and we met them their. Like the waves of the sea, they came over us and like the rocks of the cliffs, we beat them back, but that was just their first fleet. Already they had attacked in their thousands, and on the horizon, we saw the second fleet coming in. So our lord did what he should have done a lot sooner. He pleaded to our god to give us power. And so he did. Fire rained from the skies for the first time in history, and magic was gifted to all the races of the world." The parents started laughing, and dear little Khrysta did not understand one bit. "And our Lord Jadoth smote our enemies from the seas."

"Would you have us believe you are over a thousand years old?" Owyn asked between his laughs. "We know you are an old man, but that stretches things a bit."

"Do you want your village back?" I asked him, cutting straight to the chase. They laughed even more. Ancient rage seethed, but just for a moment. Everyone laughed, except Khrysta's mother. I turned my head to Khrysta. "Do you want your village back?" She looked up at me with hopeful eyes, suddenly awake. She nodded, and a faint smile surfaced on her sweet young face. "I want only one answer from you, young Khrysta, for it is a mystery to me. If you give me an answer," I paused, looking straight into her eyes. All the energy and power I had gathered, stolen and made for myself came alive, and my eyes were beginning to glow faintly. "I will serve you."

"Ask me." She said, with a longing I had once known myself. A longing I had long since lost.

"How old are you?" The laughter had slowly died down. She looked to her mother who shook her head. Hoping she would defy her mother, I stood up, assuming my full height. My eyes were alight with purple flames.

"Seventeen winters." She answered, and the pact was written. She could not feel it, but I could. Every mystery had a price to be paid for its revelation. I myself was one such price. Though it seemed meagre, the answer to this mystery, demanded blood, for that was the agreement. I towered above the onlookers and pulled my hood back. Owyn rushed to his feet, but could not manage to move when I pulled down my mask and laid eyes on him, all six. My being was filled with released energy and it regained its full mass. I swept the leather and clothing aside, lest it burst. The parents were too scared to scream, and so was dear little Khrysta. The once soft and weak spikes straightened and hardened out all over my body, adding to the intimidating sight. In my belt hung my two daggers, Madness and Lies, ready for action. The earth rumbled as the eyes of the gods fell upon me, but there was nothing they could do. Their arms could not reach me here. Their serpentine servants, The Forgotten, lay devastated and weak. Up from the ground sprung my old sword, bound to me by secrets and mysteries long lost. On its grip there was written "Arcana Abaddon". The blade flew into my hand and I watched the grey steel twist and shape itself into its final form. Purple flames ran down my neck and through my hands, bursting through my grey armour-like skin where cracks were found. For the first time in centuries, a human laid eyes on a Margonite.

"I am yours to command."

Khrysta herself was too scared to move. She shook, almost violently. I sat down to try to comfort her, but her mother ran over to her and pushed her out of the way. Her dress caught fire, but I put it out by laying my hand on it, smothering the flames.

"Don't you dare touch her, demon." She hissed, as if she could possibly stand against me.

"No harm shall come to thee, for I am bound to her. She answered the question, and for that I must pay the price. If you cannot answer me, then I will hunt for it myself. Where is your village?"

"Why would you do this for us?" The mother asked.

"I must pay my price." I answered and turned to Khrysta.

"What are you? What is your name?" She asked, as she slowly regained her words.

"I am a Margonite. My name is better not spoken here."

"You swore to obey me." She replied, attempting to turn my words against me. The contract between us was deeper than she realized.

"To speak my name would most likely kill you, or at best, drive you mad." I answered, looking down at her and sheathed my sword. "And I am bound to you. Therefore I cannot hurt you." Behind me, Gyle had grabbed a hold of my javelins. They were the only weapons I wore visibly. I heard one slide out of the quiver and he handed it to someone else before he drew another one. I took a step to the side to cover Khrysta and her mother. "If you wish to kill me, you better throw hard!" I warned them, turned around and threw my arms out. In front of me stood Gyle and one other man I did not know the name of. I do not know whether it was fear or sheer panic, maybe both, but they raised their spear and threw them at me from three metres range. Gyle threw and missed, his javelin flew into a tree behind me. The other man was a better thrower, he hit me straight on the chest, but it was not nearly enough to puncture my armour. The javelin was bent and blunted and I felt its sting no more than a human felt a grain of sand on its clothes. I saw a look in his eyes. This man had fought before. There were bandages on his left arm and scars on his face and chest. Gyle lost his nerve and fell back, stumbling over some roots. My javelins clattered to the ground, but the children slept deeply and did not wake. The other man stood his ground.

"What is your name?" I asked the man.

"Sind," He sneered back. "And what do I call filth like you?" He spat back, spitting into the fire.

"You may call me Raithe." I answered, cocking my head. "You look like a man of war yourself." I remarked, gesturing to his scars.

"Give me a weapon and I will show you, demon." He replied. I turned to Khrysta.

"Shall I give him a weapon to fight me?" I asked, and all the parents cleared the area. Some started waking their children, telling them not to be afraid. As soon as they laid eyes on me, the youngest ones started crying. Those with common sense said they had to run away, and the fools wanted weapons. Khrysta stood still in thought.

"Do you need to ask a little girl for permission to fight?" Sind taunted.

"Do not tempt me." I growled back, silencing the fighter.

"Give him your sword." Khrysta commanded with a shaky voice. If I could have smiled, I would. I pulled Arcana out of its sheath, and grabbed it by the blade. I turned around and found Sinds hand already waiting to receive the blade that would destroy him. Without hesitating a second, I gave him the handle and took a step back. The sword was really too big for him, but as he held it, the weapon changed its shape. The blade slithered and melted into a curve, the guard vanished and the grip went from being metal to wood. The blade itself turned silver with a bright reflection, but everywhere there were dark spots.

"Now this is a fine blade!" Sind said, testing the balance for a second before he turned to me. As I drew my two daggers, I started counting, wondering how long it would take before Arcana broke him. I had both daggers in hand and gave him a slight nod. He returned it, and lunged for me. His strike came nowhere near me, but I guessed that he was just testing the blade. As the point passed me, it left trails of purple that were only visible to a being with my eyes. I stayed my hands and waited. His next attack came closer, almost scraping along my chest, but for good measure, I parried it with my dagger and countered him. I attacked just for fun, but he clearly did not expect me to be able to move so fast. I raised my dagger high and thrust it downward, missing his chest on purpose and lunging Lies straight into his left thigh. Dodging his counter was easy, and I danced away, stopping in the middle of the campfire. No attack from my part was necessary. Sind however, could not stay his hand, but I danced away from the blade. He did a half-step, closing the distance and brought his blade up again. A loud metallic ring filled the air as the blades met, and I stopped his attack.

"Not bad for a farmer," I said, holding my face level with his. "Let us see you dodge this!" Having warned Sind, he jumped back, but he was still within reach. I had yet to see a man who was able to dodge this attack. The Blade That Cuts Rain, it had been called by my master, but today it would cut flesh. Moving forward in circular motion, the attack was filled with blind-spots and openings for counters, but they never came. Though the blades were short, Sind was well within my reach and the blades flew across his skin, giving him nicks and cuts everywhere. Had he been a real enemy, he would have been dead by the first two strikes. For good measure, I planted a cut above his left eye to blind him. To onlookers it must have looked like a hurricane of blades, but to Sind, it must have looked like his death. I lowered my guard to study my opponent. There would have new scars to show his wife after tonight, but Sind was a tougher man than most, and charged right after me. Shifting my weight and I avoided his simple stab. As he came rushing by me, I raised my daggers to cut his leg again, but he, quite literally, fell out of my way and away from me. His wounds were dirty now and he was caked with dirt and sand. My counting had reached twenty-six, and I stopped counting. Arcana had taken him. His eyes became empty as if he was loosing focus. His mouth opened and closed in quick, spasming movements, almost like a shark. The clicking of his teeth sounded all around. I sheathed Madness and Lies.

"You... You... You..." He stammered, sounding unsure what he wanted to say. "You are... are flawed." He said, finally able to finish the sentence. Nodding slowly to himself, his eyes had gotten a tint of purple.

"We are all flawed." I answered him.

"Nothing l... L... Like..." He started stammering again. I could only guess at what Arcana was doing to his mind.

"Like the gods wanted." I finished for him, and took a step forward. He nodded again, and opened his mouth to speak. He stammered and stuttered like an old man.

"I don't sound right." He said, and Arcana started shaking. "Why don't I sound right? My head..." He whimpered.

"It has changed, has it not?" I asked, but no answer came. He started gibbering and Arcana shook violently, like him. A tear ran down his cheek as his eyes darted all over the place, not settling in one place for longer than a second. His eyes stopped at me, and he steadied his hand. Rage settled, before it disappeared. Anger came back and went again, like the crashing of waves. I stopped in front of him and grabbed Arcana by its blade. He let go of it willingly. The purple in his eyes had gone away, but he gibbered on, speaking only in utterances or single words that made no sense. I knew, for I had spoken them myself at one point, or at least similar words. Maybe it would have been a mercy to kill me then? Maybe it would be a mercy to kill him now? It would take years before his mind found its way and then he would not be the same man at all. Arcana changed its form in my hands and I fastened it to my belt. Before I turned to Khrysta, he spoke one word that seemed to clear his mind for a fraction of a second, but his mind returned to madness and chaos before a thought could form in anyone's head.

"What have you done to him?" Khrysta demanded with anger on her face. She was safe from my weapons and she knew it well.

"Nothing more than you commanded dear Khrysta." I answered. "I gave him my sword."

"And what did your sword do to him?" She asked, catching on quicker than I'd like.

"It showed him secrets and truths. It pulled back the curtain of lies forming your lives and shaping your days. It drove him mad." She sent him a worried look.

"Will he get better?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

"He will." I answered. "His mind struggles to sort what is in his head. Imagine someone spilling thirty barrels of different seeds onto a floor and telling you to sort them all." I explained after having a quick think. It was the best way to formulate the change.

"That would take time." She said, and took a step towards him.

"And then you can think that what is going on in his head is worse, thousandfold." I placed a hand on her shoulder. She was taller than I had expected, reaching me almost to my shoulder. "There is nothing anyone can do to help him. I could ease the process, but it would hurt him. Badly."

"Then don't," She commanded. We said nothing for a while and only watched the newly maddened man. He sat in the shadow of a large rock, speaking madness to himself. The problem was not as much having new information in your head. It mainly consisted of finding words again. Proper words that fit the new reality he had caught a glimpse of. There was another path his mind had to walk as well, but that path was unspoken, for there were no words that fit, not by a mile.

"The mystery still demands payment." I said, making Sind flinch at my voice. "Show me your village, so I can cleanse it."

"Can we take him with us?" Khrysta asked. "I made him this way. I feel like I should take care of him."

"That duty lies not on you." I replied. "His fate was a mystery to you, and you had not paid the price to know it." I answered. "Though, I can make use of him, and he will live, do not worry." I said, and picked up my quiver. There were three more javelins in there and one stuck in a tree. "When do we leave?"

"In the morning."

As it turned out, Sind had lost his wife in the attack. It explained his rare courage at least, but it left him as my responsibility. All the other shied away from him. Probably thinking I had cast a curse on him, possessed him or something else devilish. I had to stay away from both him and the rest of the people. I was commanded to, but it was highly understandable. As the night dragged on, I sat alone by a fire I had made for myself. Only extreme cold could hurt me, and fire was no necessity, but I had taken the time nonetheless to make the fire. I gathered all my belongings and picked up the ruined javelin after pulling the other one out of the tree. The one in working order went back into the quiver. The other one, I stuck into the fire. The night dragged on as I worked the metal. Where the coals of the fire failed me, I used magic, and when morning came, a dagger was ready and I was sharpening the blade. The handle was made of wood and soft braided bark. I was in the process of carving a proper sheath when the people started waking up. None of them said a word to me, they just got their fires going and started making oatmeal. I noticed that they were careful with their choice of firewood, making sure to make as little smoke as possible. They all sent me nervous glances, but none dared stare for too long. The meal was eaten quietly. Some of them spoke in hushed voices about home and if I could really take it back for them. After having eaten her share she came over to me, half a moment after the sun had risen above the horizon.

"You do not eat do you." She commented, more than she asked.

"I have no need for food." I replied.

"Who's the dagger for?"

"Me." I answered. "The idiots broke my javelin, and I wanted to make use of it. Every weapon I can get my hands on will be of use today. I trust your village is not far?" She shook her head. "How many centaurs? Fifty?"I asked, preparing for the worst. A full tribe could have hundreds of centaurs.

"No more than twenty." She answered. "I'm not sure though." It could have been a lot worse.

"How far to your village?"

"About five hours walk to the south."She answered.

"Then bring your people with you. Your village will be cleared before dusk."

"I shall hold you to that." She said, and left me there to tell her people. Again, they showed signs of fearing me. Not a single smile came when she said they would get their homes back. They probably doubted me and my abilities, despite the duel last night. When the time came, Khrysta nodded to me, and we started walking. She led the way, and I walked next to her. The people were unsure whether to stick close to me or stay away. In daylight I could see that they were clearly armed. All the men and women wore quivers with javelins, but only the men had weapons for close combat, and their weapons were not much to brag about. There were mainly axes for chopping wood or fishing-spears. If they had been attacked by a full centaur-tribe, they would never have survived.

Having trekked through dense woods for three hours, everyone human was thirsty. We stopped by a shallow stream, no more than three metres wide in the middle of a small hidden valley, no more than thirty or so metres wide. I took up position in the valley-side, overlooking both humans and the direction where their village lay. After having almost drowned herself while drinking and refilling her waterskin, she my way.

"What should I call you again?" Khrysta asked when she walked up to me.

"Raithe." I answered her. She offered me her waterskin, but I waved it away.

"Will you be able to defeat twenty centaurs?" She asked. "Alone?" I let out a deep chuckle.

"They shall be no problem. I have slain in greater numbers before. However, I do have my worries." I replied. "Sind!" I said loudly, and the cackling man snapped to and came running. He cringed at being near me, but he would have to suffer me for now. I pulled the copper dagger out of my belt and handed it to him. He did not want to take it at first, but when I grabbed a hold of him, meaning to force him, he snatched the knife out of my hands quicker than a bird flies.

"What do you want with him?" Khrysta asked.

"Sind. Watch of Khrysta until the centaurs are dead. Any damage done to her, I shall inflict upon you as well." He nodded understandingly and shuffled closer to her. There was fear in his eyes as well as purpose. "Get yourself some water and bread." I said, nodding towards the flock who was breaking out the food. It would just be a simple lunch, but we were wasting daylight.

"I will." Khrysta said, and left me behind with a stuttering Sind. I turned my head to him. He looked ready to sprint after her.

"Jog on." I ordered, and he literally leapt away from me, almost falling down the hill. I chuckled again and waited patiently. Half an hour later, we marched on, People were more on guard now, always a hand on a weapon or a weapon in hand. Nervous eyes turned everywhere. No centaur would sneak up on us easily. The only one with some calm in her blood was Khrysta, walking right in front of me. Sind followed close to her side and even his crazy mutterings had quieted down. His mind had been given focus. Looking up I saw a pillar of smoke in the sky. It was too thick and black to be the product of burning wood. The centaurs were burning corpses. Sind saw the same it seemed, for he took two steps closer to Khrysta and remained within striking-distance the whole time.

"We are close." Khrysta said. I sensed death long before she said it. The air was thick with anger, loss and death. There was something else on the air as well... Power. Arcane power. As I looked around I notices small specks of dust-like energy floated through the air, drifting slowly towards the pillar of the smoke. The dust was green, white and blue.

"A spirit of nature." I guessed. "A ritual sacrifice." I concluded. I had witnessed them before, but not to such a weak creature. "I guess you can sacrifice to anything these days." I thought, sounding more tired than I would have liked to. The world was truly godless. I raised my head, smelling the air. The spirit was weak, or did not even exist yet. Being able to sense the direction where the enemy was, I saw no reason taking the villagers any further. "Stay here. Sind will look after you."

"The village is about half an hour in that direction." Khrysta said, pointing towards the south, and towards where the specks of energy were slowly drifting.

"I know." I replied, unsheathing Arcana. The walk was long, and I made sure to scout the village, flanking around on both sides, taking a good look at the attackers. It had been a much larger village before the raid. A wooden palisade with stone-foundations surrounded the village. The houses were mostly built out of sandstone or other local types. Wooden huts were seen also, but they were few and far between. The granary was large and the farm-fields, both inside and outside the palisade, were large and well irrigated. temple left a little to be desired, but they were large enough to satisfy the gods who cared little for them. There must have been at least a hundred and fifty souls living there. Now they were all piled up in the middle of the market, being hewed onto the fire one by one while the centaurs danced. Khrysta had either lied to me or been wrongly informed. There were more centaurs than she had told me. They were close to thirty in number, but it made little difference. The sun was at its highest when I walked onto the dirt road and followed it into the village. On the way in it struck me that I had never learned its name. I chuckled. "A mystery for another time."

Bells rang loudly when I came into view. The centaurs had men standing vigil as the ritual was performed. Having sheathed Arcana, I raised my hands as one did when one wanted to parley. I had nothing to give the beasts but their continued existence, but that would have to do, for they had nothing to offer me. I felt the tremors in the earth before I saw the centaurs through the broken gate. The sound of dancing, song and chanting still rose through the air as the warriors came galloping to meet me. They were all armed with spears, swords and javelins and their bodies were adorned with armour of leather and bones. I could not help but notice the presence of esoteric runes and amulets on every single one of them.

"I have come to negotiate!" I shouted at them as one of the stronger-looking centaurs strode forth through the gate. "You are the chief I presume." I said to the centaur.

"I am High Priest Sooth, the voice of our god." The centaur spat drawing its weapon. "Why do you defile this land, Servant of the Dead One?" it asked, making sure to insult me. It was however, well informed for a centaur, and that piqued my interest.

"I ask that you leave this village alone for I have sworn an oath to reclaim it." The centaurs all laughed at my request, but I remained still, looking into the eyes of the high priest.

"We are many, and you are only one." High Priest Sooth stated with a smirk on his face. "What have you to offer us?"

"I offer you your lives." I said, provoking yet another round of wild, savage laughter from the tribe.

"Kill it!" A female shouted from the wall as she banged two javelins together.

"I intend to." The High Priest replied, raising its voice. "Unless it has something else to offer us." The High Priest took a step closer.

"I know the workings of your rituals. The wisdom of the Dead One guides me still." I said. "Though your god might be strong, I sense that it still lies dormant." I pleaded, while I slowly accessed my energy-reserves. The chances of a parley had been slim all along. My purple flames grew stronger, and I could almost already hear their dying screams. Their future was no mystery no me. The wall were high, but I could easily through a javelin over it. The gates were already broken down, but if the beasts had any knowledge of common defensive tactics, they would have materials nearby to build a barricade. I counted all my enemies quickly before I met the eyes of the High Priest again.

"So you offer us nothing we will be gifted by our god?" The High Priest smirked.

"I offer you to live." I said. "Take it or die." I offered. The High Priest drew his sword, and there was no turning back. I drew Arcana in the flash of an eye and charged. My first shot was parried, but the High Priest could not counter me. Drawing Madness with my right hand, I thrust it straight into the chest of the High Priest, driving him further back. Corrupt energy streamed in through the dagger. His counter glanced off my skin, and I pushed him away. The centaurs on the wall raised their javelins now that they had a clear shot. None of the javelins wounded me. Their stone-tips shattered against my skin, and I charged again. The High Priest barely got his sword up in time to block my first blow. I pulled Madness out of his body, extorting a pained howl. Corrupted blood seeped out of the wound. The High priest would die within seconds. With his last strength, he threw a last desperate strike at me, but I raised Arcana. Our blades met and the sound was like the bells of a cathedral. As I raised my head, the High Pries fell over, choking on his own blood. A howl of anger rose from the crowd, and I shouted back. A loud growl, fuelled by corruption and unholy wrath met the mourning cries of the centaurs, shaking them to their core. Weaved into the massive expulsion of air came also energy. Taking on a life of its own I saw tendrils shooting through the air into the centaurs, rattling their minds, driving them to fear. Javelins came flying again as a reply. Again they either missed or glanced off my skin. Orders were given, and before I could get through the gate, they had rolled a wagon into the opening, shutting me out. I plunged Arcana into the ground.

"So that is how the half-breeds want to play." I said and raised my hands. I had seen my lord do this once, but I had never tried it myself out of fear that my body would break. Now when I was at my full strength, I let the energy loose. I opened my palms, fingers up, and a wave of pure power blasted out of me. I was positively alight. However, the power was almost beyond my control. Words would have failed the best schooled poet in the world if he tried describing the raw power and emotion washing through me. The wagon was thrown down the streets in a million tiny pieces. Now dead centaurs were flung into the air and onto roofs or the same way as the wagon. When the energy was spent, I was forced to the ground. Never in my immortal existence had I felt this tired and weakened. The wails of my enemy barely reached into the shell that my mind had retreated to. Having wielded His power only made me feel more respect for my dead god. Willing my mind out of its protective shell, I struggled up on my feet. Arcana had not moved, but stood still as if it had been shielded from the blast. I locked my fingers around the grip and ripped it out of the ground. "There is still work to be done." I said, feeling my mind envelope itself in haze. My vision blurred and I walked shakily through the gatehouse, feeling my way along the wall. Arcana trailed along the ground behind me, leaving a distinct trail in the sand. The ground was soaked with blood and some other substance I could not recognize at first. I leaned down and 'inhaled' the scent.

"Cooking-oil." I muttered and straightened back up. Around me, the survivors were gathering in a semi-circle. They were all bleeding. One of the centaurs on the ground had half a wheel stuck inside its upper body. It was no longer breathing. Looking up, I saw eight enemies, with their weapons ready. They were all wounded and bleeding. As if sensing my weakness, they attacked first. The first one charged straight past me and out of the gate. The next one thought differently and charged up to me with a pike. I dodged under it just as the next centaur readied his weapons. However, he did not attack when he saw that I was ready for him. A large female with an enormous two-handed sword charged at me next. Seeing my break, I raised Arcana with both hands. The centaur received the blade, and passed me with a long open cut along its left side. The female tried cutting my head off from behind, but I dodged under her blade. She was badly wounded, she collapsed inside the gatehouse, blocking the hotheaded ones out. The attacks poured on me like rain, leaving me no chance to attack, but I stood my ground. Just before they cleared the gatehouse behind me, I struck the foot of one of the centaurs and it fell on the ground in front of me. It screamed as I plunged Arcana into its chest. All but one of the Centaurs watched helplessly as I skewered their friend to death. Before I even managed to look up, I felt an enormous pain shoot through my chest. A spear stood straight through my chest. As I looked up, my vision was obscured by a pair of hooves colliding with my face. The impact shook me all the way down to my feet, but the beasts had yet to even scratch the surface of my limits. Angrily I pulled out Madness and Lies and plunged them both into the centaur. It had been bleeding after I blew the barricade apart, my daggers would be the death of it. As I pulled the daggers out of its flanks I watched the light leave its eyes. The centaurs behind me charged through the gatehouse, smacking me with their weapons as they passed. Out of all the dumb luck possible one of them tripped and stopped for half a second next to me. Having a spear through my chest made my attack a bit awkward, but I felt satisfaction when the half-breed stumbled away, screaming its lungs out. One of them threw a javelin, aiming for the already weakened spot in my chest. I felt my skin crack as the cold steel made its way into my chest. Though it hurt, they were still far away from bringing me down, but the centaurs were not backing down. Another charge came and I felt two different weapons cleave into my right shoulder. Howling with rage, I pulled Arcana out of the centaur on the ground and lunged out for anything within reach. I wounded many, but killed none, and their rampage began again with renewed fury. Having Arcana back in my hands, I met their weapons and parried them blow for blow, but the javelin thrower felt he was onto something and threw another one. He struck true. The javelin went through my right foot, further immobilizing me. Letting loose a howl, I attacked again, finally seeing an opening. The centaurs were hardy creatures, and I failed to fell a single one of them. Having learned another mystery I was paying the price for, I realized that the strength of centaurs came not just from speed, but also from their numbers. A stray thought chastised me for not having taken Sind with me at least, but I locked the though away. I raised my blade in time to intercept the next attack, but it was no good. The centaur had gone down the street to get speed, and the momentum carried his attack through my block. Sparks flew as his axe slipped past my blade and into my chest. My armour failed, but he could not cut deep. The other centaurs saw their chance and struck as well. Blow after blow rained down upon me, causing little damage, but the blows were stacking up. In a fit of rage, I broke the spear that impaled me and forced my right arm to heal itself. With both arms working again, I raised my blade and let it fall into the circling centaurs. They were too slow to react, and by the time the beasts realized I was mobile again, three centaurs lay lifeless on the ground. They dissolved as a coherent fighting force and simply pummelled me. I vented my anger, slaying one of them with a downward slash, severing its hind legs and hips from the rest of the body. Blood and intestines ran freely from the gaping hole. The remaining two exchanged blows with me, but they were no match for my skills. Three strokes in quick succession left one centaur without is harm, with an open belly and without a head. The last centaur jumped onto me, trying to use the advantage of weight, but I grabbed him by the face and threw him to the ground with demonic strength. My blade followed close behind, ending the beast and the fight. I took great pleasure in watching the half-breed choke and beg for mercy. Begging me to let it go, that it would never hurt anyone ever again. Its begging fell on deaf ears and I watched as life slowly seeped out of its body.

As the noise of battle left my head I realized how surreal the situation was. In the distance I still heard the sound of dance and chanting. It sounded almost like a summer fair, with merrymaking and feast. It would have to end though. The specks of energy I had seen in the forest was converging by the market, and the pull was much stronger here. Small clouds of energy, the size of large oranges floated gently through the air. I slung Arcana over my shoulder and followed the floating oranges. It was laughable really. Such sounds of happiness and there I walked, expecting a war-party to descend upon me at any moment. I was no healer, but I forced my energy to my wounded areas, healing it me least temporarily. The beasts had weakened me more than I had anticipated. I felt the cracks in my skin begin to mend, but there was no way a dabbler like me could heal this kind of injury. It would take time. Tall houses towered over me on both sides, and I passed the temple on my way to the market. Nothing was pillaged or looted. Weapons lay on the ground where their users had dropped dead. This raid was made exclusively for the sacrifices. The market opened up before me as I came to the end of the street. It was large and square but there were no stalls or kiosks to be seen anywhere. In the centre there was a large fire, bilging out smoke. Around it danced six centaurs, three males and three females. The orbs of energy were swirling violently around the entire market. The centaurs noticed me, but did not stop dancing. They were either truly happy or complete idiots. The ritual had been completed, and they were victorious. The energy was drawn closer and closer to the fire, and I watched the ending stages of the ritual commence.

"You may want to step aside." I told the centaurs, but they laughed me off. "They have never done this before then." I concluded, and stepped behind the corner. I started counting down, judging by the speed of the energy. I started at sixteen and made my way downwards. The centaurs never suspected a thing. Energies of all kinds came flying faster than the eye could see, and when I reached five, I could feel the ritual try to pull energy away from me. I simply stepped further away and counted down. I reached zero and started counting back up again to see by how much I had been wrong. I reached four when the entity took its shape its shape and the world imploded around it. Half a second later, pent up and surplus energy was released in a glittering explosion. The closest I came to a comparison was Canthan fireworks. No centaurs went flying, for there was nothing left of them. They had probably been sucked into the implosion. Again I felt the touch of a foreign will, but it did not try to pull my energy from me. It was merely reaching out, sensing the world for the first time.

"Hello?" A crystal-clear voice said from around the corner. The voice itself was angelic, being echoed and reinforced by the very nature of its source.

"Hello." I replied and stuck my head around the corner. What met me was the most beautiful sight this world had ever seen. Glowing vines and and wood made up the body of a human female. Its dress was made of leaves of different kinds, some I knew, some did not even exist anymore. The market around it was destroyed, but the scene of destruction was insignificant to the beautiful face staring back at me. Her hair was braided from the freshest grass and flowers, coloured like golden honey of finest quality. Its hair fell below her shoulders and out of my view. I drank in the sight of her, stepping out from cover behind the corner. Her nose was sharp, and her eyes were changing between ocean-blue, dark-spring green and grey. Her mouth was perfectly shaped with clear lines and a beautiful red. There was not a single thing about her I would have changed if I could. Everything looked as if it was planned by the teacher of the greatest artisan that ever would live. Not a single shape on her body was superfluous, but at the same time if someone added something new or changed it in any way, the beauty would be lost. Just like I was lost for words. I never heard Arcana fall to the ground, and before I knew it, I was halfway across the ruined market, stumbling towards her.

"Hello." She said again and smiled. Her eyes shone like the sun after having spent an eternity in the Realm of Torment with Abaddon. I could not bring myself to answer. My voice would sound like a broke lute compared to hers, which sounded like a choir worthy of the gods' ear. "Who are you?" She asked as I came up to her. There was a crater behind her, but I did not notice it.

"M-margonite." I stammered, as if such a thing was possible for a being of my power. She smiled, and I was lost again.

"Margonite." She said, making the word sound like a blessing. "I am pleased to meet you. You are the first living thing I have met." She laughed and looked up and down my body. "You look wounded." She said, but I felt no pain. She reached out to lay her hand on my chest, but I stepped back.

"You cannot." I managed to say, taking another step away, making sure I was out of her reach. She looked quizzically at me before something dawned on her.

"Demon." She said and the smile went away, leaving me feeling cold, like a naked man dropped into icy water midwinter. "The forest speaks of you." She said, looking up and down my body again. "The roots and leaves speak of your heavy footsteps. The birds sing of your strength and power." She went on. My senses were trying to come back to normal, but they were fighting an uphill battle.

"I am sorry." I replied, not having anything to be sorry for.

"Do not be. They know your kind well my Margonite." She said, managing a slight smile. "They tell me you are not like them. You bring no death or corruption. I see that you lock it within you now."

"What is your name?" I asked her, wanting desperately to change the subject.

"I have none, Margonite." She sighed. "Perhaps you can give me one?" She asked, taking a step closer to me. My legs did not obey my commands, and I remained still. Her very presence washed over me, driving my senses into full retreat.

"I have none to give you." I answered.

"Why is that?"

"Because words pale in comparison to your beauty." I answered, and the smile returned.

"You are not all evil after all." She said, and closed the distance between us, being careful not to touch me. "What is my name?" She asked. No... She did not ask, it was a demand. I racked my mind, searching every single nook and cranny of what I had stored and locked away. I looked to my weak vocabulary, trying to find a word, or combination of words, that would serve her at least some measure of justice.

"Kireina." I said, finding a simple word from my own mother-tongue.

"Beautiful?" She asked, translating the word immediately. She was brimming with knowledge, some of it lost to the humans scholars. "Do you think it fits?"

"No." I answered quickly. "But it is the closest fit I found." Then I noticed what I was looking at. She was beautiful, but she was something else too. A very specific and dangerous thing. She was a mystery. What she was, what she could be and what she could do... It all lay in the shadows. The dice were not yet thrown, but I looked at her, and I saw what I feared most. I saw power, and a mind not suited to shoulder it. I stretched my hand out behind me and Arcana flew into my grip. Her eyes shot open and she stepped back.

"Why are you arming yourself?" She asked. In face of my hostility she did nothing to defend herself. The vast stores of energy at her disposal lay dormant. Perhaps she was unable to defend herself? With Arcana in my hands, I felt my purpose renew itself and my resolve strengthen.

"You are strong." I said, holding Arcana with both hands.

"My strength is not for battle." She said, raising her hands to shield herself. I knew nothing of her, but I hoped her flesh would be as easy to cut as normal flesh. "I have done nothing wrong." Kireina pleaded, balling her fists angrily by her sides, like a defiant kid.

"I know." I replied.

"I am not like you!" She shouted. "What right do you have to say who lives and who dies?" I held up Arcana so its blade lay horizontally in the air.

"I paid the price for this sword and its mysteries. I was taught a valuable lesson from it, and it is from the authority of having lived for over a thousand years that I deem that you should die. This world does not need another powerful being. We do not need another Mallyx."

"How can you say that I will become a monster?"

"Because power corrupts." I answered, lowering Arcana again.

"But I haven't done anything wrong!" The spirit pleaded.

"I know dear child." I replied. "But I do not fear what you are. I fear what you might become." I gently stroked its cheek. A gesture I had not done in over a thousand years, influenced by feelings I had never known before. "So for the safety of your beloved forests. Die." She unclenched her fists with a sad look on her face and leaned into my hand.

"I am defenceless." She said. "Can I ask you for a favour? One monster to another?" She asked, spitting out the word 'monster'. I nodded. "The wood speaks of what holding your sword did to the young man, Sind." She said. "And I wish to hold Arcana before I die."

"Why? So you can strike me down?" I asked, not the least bit suspicious. Unless she was a legendary swordswoman, I could have killed her without a weapon.

"I want to understand why I have to die. That sword gives understanding, correct?" I nodded. A few seconds of silence passed between us before I took Arcana by the blade and handed it over to Kireina. Carefully she reached forward and laid her hand around the grip. Arcana responded immediately and began warping and shaping, melting into something new. As Arcana struggled to find its new shape, I was once again captivated by Kireina. Instead of resisting the effect Arcana had on her, she embraced it. Arcana never settled, but laid in her hand like an ever-changing grey mass. Kireina's eyes settled into a bright purple and her glow changed. It was as if she was becoming a margonite. Wings of purple flame burst from her back and fluttered gently.

"You are flawed." She said with a smile on her face. "Just like your decision." She said and laid her hand on my shoulder before I could answer. She was still pure, despite the corruption and darkness. Revelation after revelation passed through her, but she smiled. "Your decision is coloured by your subjectivity. More than you believe. I will not become what you fear. Not every mystery has a price that needs to be paid."

"How can you tell?" I asked back, resting my hands on Madness and Lies.

"It would be like telling you that water is wet." She answered and laughed. "Your sword taught me nothing I did not already know." She said and held Arcana by the blade, offering it back to me. Arcane had never settled on a shape, but as soon as I touched it, it fell back into its normal shape. I was unsure whether to sheathe it or not. She changed back to her normal self when Arcana left her hand. Both versions of her were beautiful in their own right. The one version I wanted to settle down on a farm with. The other I wanted to conquer the world alongside. She had great power, but no malice. I felt it, just like Arcana her felt it.

"It would indeed." I agreed, and sheathed Arcana. "It is best if you leave." I said.

"Why can't I stay with you?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. She looked down at my weapons again and up to my face. "I think it might be best if we split up here." She said after some thought.

"But we can meet again of course?" I asked, sounding more hopeful than I wanted. Her smile broadened a little.

"Of course we can my Margonite." She said, as if she had claimed me somehow. She grabbed me by the facemask and leaned in close. Her next words came as a whisper, but I felt the air tremble around us as she said them. "My Osiriax." My entire being vibrated, every single cell and atom of my being was standing at attention. I felt her face brush against mine and she let go of my face. Her warmth faded from my skin, and I wanted it back. "Close your eyes." She commanded, and I closed all six of them.

"Promise me you'll meet me again." I demanded and reached out for her.

"I promise." Her disembodied voice said. I counted to five and opened my eyes again. Where she had stood moments before, there was now just a taunting emptiness. I sighed mentally and returned to the task at hand. To the contract. Clearing out the village was a butcher's work. Nothing but dead or dying centaurs to clear out, and I threw all of them onto the fire to let them burn. When night came, the villagers returned to find their village safe and secure. They found me waiting on the temple stairs.

"Your village is safe. If you wish then I shall remain here to guard it." I said to them as they gathered around me in silence. "At least for a little while." In the far left, Sind stood side by side with Khrista, keeping a close eye on her still. No cheer erupted. They just kept looking around at their village and what remained of it. One by one however, they came up to me and quietly offered their thanks. "Think nothing of it." I told them. By the time the stars were starting to shine, Sind and Khrysta were the last villagers in the street. Everyone else had returned to their homes.

"I found something." Khrysta said as she sat down next to me. "I think it belongs to you." She said, and pulled something out of a pouch in her belt. What she had picked up from the ground was a piece of my shoulder-spikes. Reaching back to where it was supposed to be, I found that there were three spikes missing. "Do you want it back so you can repair your armour?" She asked gently. I chuckled.

"No. My skin is my armour. New spikes will grow back." I said and folded her fingers around the spike. "Keep it, and do with it as you please. It is quite durable."

"Thanks." She said, immediately putting it back into her pouch. "How long will you stay?"

"Until my skin is mended and until I am sure that you need not fear the centaurs any longer." I answered her.

"Will you kill all of them?" She asked, sounding hopeful and vengeful at the same time. It really did not suit her.

"I will do no such thing. I will make them keep their distance, and that is all." I said. "Should it come to battle, I will slay them." I added to at least give her some satisfaction. "You should both go to sleep." I said, leaning back onto the stairs and looked up at the sky.

"I will." Khrysta said, and I dismissed Sind afterwards with a simple gesture. He maintained high speed down the street until he was safely away from me. My contract was fulfilled. In reality it had been an unfair deal. Almost thirty souls for a persons age... The warlocks and ascended would have laughed at me, but there were none of them left to laugh at me. Our armies were crushed and we had been hunted down, either to be killed or turned into Spirits of Truth. As I sat there, I was unsure whether I wanted more margonites to be alive or not. Some of us had been agreeable. Others had lost their path seeking power. I had never understood Mallyx or his kind, and I was glad that I did not. Looking at the stars we had once tried to reach, I was glad I did not understand. I let the cold night and silence fill me with peace, and I began mending my armour.