Chapter 9

NOW

It was deafening.

The maw of the cave was blocked by a thunderous waterfall, the cold mist spraying us as we approached the seemingly dead-end.

I held the metallic helmet before me, the metal cool against my feverishly warm skin.

The fight had been a hard one, Valen once again taking the brunt of it. He didn't seem too worse for wear and was currently sipping a watered down healing potion.

The duergar's bodies lay scattered behind us, four of them in total.

Their leader, Yorag, had addressed Valen, rapping his helmet and questioning where the tiefling's own was. In a tone better fit for discussing the weather, he'd warned us against the mind flayer's inability to tell the difference between slavers and slaves — this bit openly addressed to Nathyrra and I. He'd stressed the importance of flashy headgear like his own, in protecting against the creature's probing.

It had been one of his friends — who'd stood back with a crossbow trained on Valen — who had caused the inevitable trouble. He'd chimed in with a frown, proposing they just do away with Valen and sell us themselves.

Now, Nathyrra had stripped them of anything of worth, before handing me their leader's blood splattered helmet, somewhat begrudgingly.

I took a deep breath, placing the heavy helmet on my head and pretending I couldn't smell the previous owner's sweat and blood. I turned fully to face my companions.

"How do I look?" I opened my arms to my sides, giving a slight tip of my too-heavy head.

"Like you're in charge." Nathyrra nodded her head, arms crossed atop her chest. "Since you wear the helmet, the illithid with consider us your thralls. No self-respecting illithid would lower itself to probe the mind of another thrall."

"So we will be safe, so long as you do not remove your helmet," Valen interjected. "Otherwise they will think nothing of invading your mind and leaving you a slobbering mess of a human for your remaining years." He shrugged casually, as if he'd just told me that rain was expected.

I rolled my eyes, hidden as they were by the helmet.

"So," I smirked, remembering how this conversation could go. "Since you're my thralls, can I get you to do all the cooking and cleaning next time we break camp?" I perked up, pointing a booted foot their way. "I could do with a foot massage!"

Nathyrra groaned, rolling her eyes, but I could see the faint hint of a smile on her lips.

Valen surprised me by offering a short chuckle, quickly looking away and rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I…" he coughed. "I don't think I would make a very good thrall. My demonic blood makes me surly at the best of times."

I lifted an eyebrow at his first open mention of his heritage. He paused, dropping his arm as if noticing his error.

'And if I like my men dark and brooding?' Enserric suddenly shouted at me from the recesses of my mind, causing me to jolt in surprise. 'Say it!'

I spluttered, covering it with a cough, suddenly very uncomfortable. Shut it, Enserric.

"Yeah," I coughed again. "I had noticed that…" I finished lamely.

Valen frowned suddenly, noticing my sudden shift in tone. The water crashed against the rocks behind us, filling the awkward silence.

He saved me from my discomfort, motioning towards the waterfall with a flourish. "Please… let us just deal with the situation at hand."

'You're no fun,' Enserric moaned at me. 'Are you at least ready to kill some tentacle-faced monsters?' The longsword continued to me hopefully.

"We'll see," I muttered dismissively to the longsword under my breath, facing the waterfall once more.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, stepping through the illusion.

The water pounded all around me, the air impossibly cold, but when I stepped out into the cavern beyond I was as dry as a bone.

Valen and Nathyrra sidled up to me, equally untouched, taking in the entrance in silence.

Zorvak'Mur, the illithid trading post.

Humanoids of all races milled about aimlessly; eyes vacant and faces slack-jawed. A drow woman passed us by, undeterred by our sudden presence. She'd once been beautiful, but now her leather armour was no more than torn strips of material that hung off her starved body. Her once white hair was grey with grime and shorn to the scalp. The haunty expression I'd come to expect of her race had been replaced by a horrible carelessness for everything around her. She carried a basket of cloth in her hands, idly walking up to a crate and storing the belongings within. Task now complete, she sat on the floor with crossed legs and stared ahead aimlessly.

Tents and lean-tos were set up all around us, hazardously close to the cliff's edge and the black nothingness below. Torches lined our way from the waterfall illusion, leading to a spiral staircase. It was cut into the edge of the same cliff, disappearing into the Underdark's depths. More of the glowing purple crystals that littered Lith My'athar were present here, growing in intensity the closer we got to the staircase.

I gulped.

Two lumbering giants with beetle-like faces and forearms the size of tree trunks stood guard. They stood alongside what could only be a mild flayer.

Its long grey arms ended in black clawed tips, almost lanky enough to graze the knees of its long blue robe. Its skin was grey and mottley, with a sheen that looked like it was damp. But it's face? Its face was the stuff of nightmares, bald and veiny, with milky white slits for eyes. Where its mouth should have been were four long tentacles, all ending in red-stained tips.

The tentacles twitched towards us in nervous agitation as we approached, its long clawed hands clasped behind its back.

It spoke directly in my mind, its hissing voice a booming echo through my brain — where Enserric was a whispered chat just out of view — jolting me in surprise. Neither Valen nor Nathyrra seemed to notice. I shied away from it, momentarily losing step as we approached.

'These are the caves of Zorvak'Mur,' its tentacles reached out to me. I stopped just out of its reach. 'What business do you have here?"

The giant hulking beasts shifted to watch us, their tiny bug-eyes narrowed into red slits. The pincers, which made up the bottom half of their faces, snapped open and shut in quick succession.

I could hear Valen's tail as it lashed about, hitting the floor in a sharp rhythm; the only hint to his discomfort. Nathyrra crossed her arms across her chest.

I gulped.

"I've come to purchase thralls from your actions," my voice bounced back at me inside the helm.

I could hear the controlled, calming breath Valen took by my side.

The mind flayer slowly considered my word before I felt a gentle push on my mind, as it tried to probe my thoughts.

Despite everything I knew, the helmet still didn't feel like it would be enough.

'It is rare that we have human buyers for our thralls, but you would not be the first,' its tentacles all straightened, reaching for my face. 'But your thoughts are hidden to us. You will have to remove your helm before I let you in.'

I held my breath, not expecting such a request.

I racked my memory for what happened next, pushing through the fog.

Did I remove it? I thought I only removed it when I met with the Elder Brain…

I could hear the growl growing in Valen's throat, in reply to the tense set of my shoulders.

'Why are you even considering this, you imbecile?' Enserric's voice suddenly cut through the haze the mind flayer had created.

I shook myself out of the stupor, tightening my grip on one of my knives hilts to keep me grounded.

Enserric sighed in relief. 'Little do they know your mind would make a terrible snack for them.'

"I'm here to buy thralls," I insisted to the mind flayer, with only the slightest waver to my voice. "Not become one."

Enserric gave a content humm. 'Much better.'

I held my breath.

Then, laughter.

It sounded like it came from all around me and yet nowhere, all at once. 'You cannot blame me for trying,' the mind flayer told me lightly as if he's just asked me to pull his finger. 'Very well. You may keep the helm.'

It motioned behind itself with a clawed fingertip, robes shifting as if made from water. 'I will allow you to pass into the outer ring of Zorvak'Mur. But know that the Elder Brain is aware of your presence and knows your thoughts.' You can hear its annoyance. 'Even if you are muted to me.'

We cautiously passed the lumbering monsters — 'Umber hulks', Enserric helpfully supplied — before descending down into the darkness of the outer ring.

The stairs were perfectly sculpted stone, the handrails cold metal twisted into vine-like patterns. I held them in a death-grip as we descended into the purple haze below.

"I do not like the incessant silence," Valen admitted quietly to my back.

I could hear Nathyrra's humm of agreement.

The light grew brighter as we reached the bottom, the glowing faerzress scattering the ground. They formed a luminescent path towards a carved bridge of stone, which stretched across a short chasm. The darkness seemed to press in on all sides.

We crossed the bridge in silence, bypassing an open gate.

A domed purple building, carved entirely from stone, loomed ahead. Small round windows were spaced around the base of the building, yellow and fogged with age. I could see the outline of a great lumbering shape within.

The symbol of a drink was painted onto the timber door.

I'm going to need one of those later.

We passed the building, moving carefully through the merchant's compound. More of the witless thralls were milling around, moving items from one place to another with no sign of emotion.

Most of the mind flayer merchants ignored us as we passed, only one nodding his head in greeting. His tentacles remained still against his robed chest. We continued past him in silence.

We need to find the Elder Brain and get this over with.

The path forked and we chose the one on the left, following the sounds of idle chatter, a welcome break from the oppressive silence of the city.

A group of duergar were bidding on a young human male, his expression completely uncaring to his imminent fate. His skin was grey from too long beneath the surface, and his face was lined with dirt. The skin on his chest was thin, showing his ribs, and his stomach was swollen with signs of starvation.

I hurried, hoping to involve myself in this line of bidding. I could see only one more thrall up for action, a young woman whom — for the right price — could be saved and sent to the Seer, to become a loyal follower.

If I made it in time, did I have enough coin to save another?

I needed a new bow, so badly, though…

I shied away from the utilitarian thought with a grimace.

The bidding was done by the time we arrived, the young male disappearing in a blinding flash of light much to the glee of the helmed dark dwarves.

I found myself relieved I didn't have to make the decision between a weapon upgrade and a human life.

They pushed past me, muttering about getting to the 'The Pits' in time.

Ah, the Fighting Pits. The fate that awaited the last human up for auction.

"Surely there are better pass times for the Seer's Saviour than the human trade?" Valen muttered, his voice a low hush.

I frowned at his disapproving tone. "Better us than them, hmm?" I tilted my chin at the mind flayers, eyes on the final human up for auction today.

The auctioneer led her onto the raised platform, only her waist down covered by loose dirt-covered rags. Blood covered her bare feet and her once blonde hair hung in tattered clumps. Her eyes were vacant, but she still had a warrior's body, her muscles moving beneath her dirty pale skin. It didn't look like she'd been a slave for too long. And if so, they'd kept her active.

I shivered at the thought.

We approached the platform, standing beside two other mind flayers who observed the offering in silent contemplation.

They stepped aside at our arrival, tentacles reaching out to me in interest. I could feel the faint touch of their minds seeking out my own. When they sensed the defenses of my helmet, they withdrew begrudgingly.

'Greetings,' one of them hissed in my mind. My eyes snapped to the one furthest away on the stand, its eyes calculating and tentacles reaching for me. 'It is not often we see one of your kind on that side of this platform.' I could hear its amusement. 'No doubt you are here for the auction?'

I wondered briefly if Valen and Nathyrra were currently privy to the conversation and glanced at them. Valen was tense as ever, his blue eyes darting between each of the mind flayers, hand on his flail. Nathyrra was rolling her shoulders slowly, appearing completely calm and collected.

I felt Valen shift at my glance, fingers twitching towards his weapon with a questioning tilt of his head.

I shook my head.

Hopefully, it doesn't come to that…

The auctioneer stepped back, projecting his thoughts out to me and the others if Nathyrra's surprised gasp was anything to go by. 'The next thrall for bid is a human female, quite remarkable for her species. She comes from good healthy stock and would put up a decent fight in The Pits,' it waved a hand at the woman.

I worried at the inside of my lip, grasping my coin purse tighter.

I could afford no more than 2,500 gold pieces for her. I reminded myself.

If it is not enough, it is simply not enough.

There are other places my money needs to be spent.

'So cold,' Enserric hummed.

I bit my lip, ignoring the amused longsword.

'We will open the bidding at 1,000 gold pieces.'

I held back a hiss at the steep starting price. I could feel the other mind flayers reaching out to me, curious. I held strong, attempting a more relaxed stance.

Eventually one of them raised a long tentacle. '1,000 for the human female,' it said.

A beat, and then I rose my hand, with a noncommittal shrug. "1,100."

One of them looked at me. 'You must see something worthwhile in this thrall. I offer 1,500.'

Shit. Just what I wanted to avoid.

The woman stared blankly ahead, chest rising and falling evenly as if we weren't currently bidding for her life.

The auctioneer seemed pleased, reaching out a tentacle and resting it on the thralls chin, tilting her head up for better viewing. '1,500. But surely there is another bid out there.' It looked directly at me. 'I hear 2,000? 2,000 gold for this thrall?'

I raised my lips in an annoyed snarl.

The other mind flayer was quick to meet the offer. 'I'll give you 2,000.'

Double shit.

I bit my lip, watching the blank-faced woman and begging her forgiveness for whatever was to happen next.

I held off for a few moments and then had to fight the smile that tugged at my lips when one of the mind flayers stepped back with a shake of his head. 'Too steep for me. I drop from the bidding.'

The winning mind flayer's tentacles shivered in excitement.

The auctioneer stared directly at me. 'Can you beat that offer? Do I hear 2,250?' His tentacle dropped lazily from the woman's chin, slipping down her neck and reaching out for me again.

I gritted my teeth, locking eyes with the remaining bidder as I said: "2,500 gold."

With my words, I felt Enserric blaze from his place on my back, a blinding flash of bright red light that caused the mind flayers to take a surprised step backwards.

"And you'd be smart not to outbid us again, you overgrown calamari," Enserric threatened in a rare show of openness, his voice booming around the cavern.

Valen growled deep in his throat, suddenly right by my side; shoulder to shoulder.

I gulped, tightening my grip around my knife, taking a step back and bracing myself.

God's damn it, Enserric! I cursed, hoping the weapon could hear my frantic thoughts. I can't risk everything just for a stranger.

I felt him tutt at me, like a disappointed mother hen. 'And what would Emma do, hmm?' He admonished me. 'A mantra I've had to hear from you every single second of every single day, since the moment we met.' I felt his annoyance.

I ignored the sword as I took everyone in. They were all frozen in place, bathed in the red magic of my sentient sword.

Surprisingly, they didn't attack.

My competition, tentacles shifting in a steady pattern again, considered me briefly. Then, shaking his head, he waved a hand dismissively.

The auctioneer, seemingly unfazed by the almost-fight, threw up his hands and stared directly at me. 'It looks like we have no more bids. The thrall is yours for the price of 2,500 gold.'

In a trance, I stepped onto the platform, passing the coin to the mind flayer and ignoring the penetrating stares of the others.

As soon as the gold touched his clawed hands, the woman shook her head, a small gasp escaping from her lips.

I tilted my head at her and motioned to a spot to the side of the platform. She followed slowly, head held high and taking us all in with narrowed eyes, the defiance clear. We moved away from the platform and those that would deem to listen in.

She kept her distance, taking us all in with displeasure as she rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, doing her best to hide her bare chest from view. Valen's gaze was politely averted and Nathyrra was already sifting through her pack.

I swallowed, surprised we'd made it to this point.

I opened my mouth, ready to talk before she cut me off with a snarl. "So, you're the one who bought me?" She poked a strong finger into my chest, eyes wild. I stepped back and she threw her arms up, motioning all around. "So what do you plan to do with me, then? Send me to the pits, like they did my husband. Want me to fight for your amusement, huh?" I swallowed the lump in my throat as she spat at my feet. "You disgust me!"

Nathyrra quirked an eyebrow at me over the woman's bare shoulder. She held one of the Duergar slaver's enchanted cloaks in her hands, her expression defiant. I could see her daring me to challenge her. I nodded once.

Nathyrra reached out carefully, her expression kind as she draped the material over the woman's flailing arms. She shied away from the drow's gentleness at first, before collapsing in a heap of tears at our feet. Her body shook with wrenching sobs.

I knelt before her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

I felt the tears threatening, and wondered how I'd ever intended to let this poor woman die for the sake of a few hundred gold.

"What do you intend to do with me?" She finally managed through her heaving sobs. The cloak hung limply across her shoulders, doing nothing to cover her bare chest. She was beyond caring.

Valen cleared his throat.

I pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulders, reminded of a time Emma had done something similar for me. Enserric was right; Emma would have saved her. I could feel the sword's smug satisfaction in the back of my mind.

I took a shaky breath. "I'm going to give you your freedom."

She shook her head roughly, tears spilling onto her cheeks and creating tracks through the dirt.

It was as if she hadn't heard me.

"Please," she begged, grabbing desperately at my hands and holding them in place. "At least give me a weapon if I'm to fight. I can make you lots of gold. I just need a fighting chance." Her eyes were frantic. Her face a mess of tears, snot, and dirt.

There was no calming her down.

She might not have been under an enchantment anymore, but she was still a slave.

I needed to go about this differently.

"I need you to do something for me," I started slowly.

I felt Valen and Nathyrra lean in closer at my words.

Her sobbing quietened into small gulps of air, as she took my words in.

"There's a drow outpost, called Lith My'athar. Its a couple of days south of here," I cupped her chin with a hand, forcing her to look at me. "I need you to deliver something to the ruling matron there. She'd known as the Seer."

She sobbed again, nodding her head as tears dripped from her chin.

I tightened my grip on her face, pulling her closer to me. "If you do not deliver this, I will know. And I will find you." I tightened my grip on her chin. "Do you understand?"

She nodded again, her whole body shaking.

"Good."

I pulled away, sifting through my satchel for my notebook and pencil, trying to hide my shaking hands. I flicked through the pages before landing on a blank one, where I started writing my letter to the Seer.

Once happy with it, I tore the page free and folded it in quarters, handing it to the woman.

She took it with trembling hands, nodding her head enthusiastically through her silent tears.

"I won't fail you, mistress," she managed through her hiccuping gulps of air.

I winced at her words.

Nathyrra set her up with some rations and a weapon, before she scurried away, running at full speed into the darkness, her new cloak billowing behind her.

I could only hope she successfully completed this one final task as a slave. She would be valuable when the Valsharesses army brought the fight to us.

'Careful," Enserric hummed to me, delighted. 'you're going soft.'

I rolled my eyes and motioned to the others that it was time to move on.

Valen looked openly shaken, but I could see approval in Nathyrra's steely gaze when I glanced her way.

We retraced our earlier steps in silence, crossing a small naturally formed bridge to a wide, circular platform. A portal glowed ahead with a sickly yellow light, guarded by two more umber hulks and a singular mind flayer. The portal was decorated on all sides by stone carvings of giant illithids, all holding chains between them in their clawed grasps.

The mind flayer that guarded the portal met us half-way, its steps rushed as it attempted to cut us off.

We were in the right place.

'This is the entrance to the Elder Concorde, the sanctum of the Elder Brain,' it hissed. 'You are not allowed here, surfacer. Go back to the centre of town, with the other thrall races.' It waved a dismissive claw at me.

I straightened my shoulders. "I'm here to speak to the Elder Brain," I insisted, proud of how my voice carried.

I could feel it attempting to probe my thoughts, hoping to gain some sense of my intentions.

'None of the thrall races can speak to the Elder Brain,' it insisted. 'State your business and I'll relay your message.' It shrugged it's bony shoulders. 'If worthwhile.'

"I've come to speak about the Valsharess."

Immediately, the mind flayer went into some kind of mental trance. Thin white lids hooded its eyes as it telepathically communicated with the Elder Brain.

Mere seconds later, it gave a surprised start, the communication abruptly ending.

It seemed unsure about what it said next. 'The Elder Brain says you are to be given access to the Elder Concorde.' It held up a finger in warning. 'But, you cannot enter while you are wearing the helm that shields your thoughts.'

I bit my tongue.

'Not this shit again,' Enserric huffed indignantly.

I pushed his concern aside as I felt Nathyrra shift her stance.

This time I'm sure it's the right choice.

It didn't make removing my only source of protection any easier, though.

I pulled it from my head, pushing aside the damp hair that was now plastered to my forehead.

"Here," I shove the helmet into its awaiting grasp.

I held my breath as it contemplated me, my helmet firmly grasped in its claws.

Then, finally, it motioned with its free hand to the portal. 'Move to the central pad. It will teleport you to the sanctum of the Elder Brain.'

With no further fanfare we all stepped on, Valen and Nathyrra poised and ready for an attack. I shifted my shoulders, preparing for the sight that I knew was going to great us.

There was a low hum and then the world shifted, dissolving around us before rebuilding as something different.

Different and horrible.

The grand hall was almost entirely filled by the mass that was the Elder Brain.

It was as the name suggested, a giant brain — with pulsating blue veins running across the spongy grey surface — which floated in the centre of a stone pool. Water lapped and spilt over the edges of the pool each time one of the long tentacles shifted in the water. Foam floated on the surface.

The floors around us were slick with a sticky substance and water pooled around my feet. Everything smelled damp and rotten.

Suddenly, I could sense a strange alien presence in my head. Poking and prodding.

I could feel it trying to tell me something.

I tilted my head, straining to make it out, but I couldn't hear it clearly.

And then suddenly, everything was too loud.

I clamped my hands to my ears, desperately willing the noise to stop.

Memories that weren't mine flashed before my eyes. Thoughts that didn't belong to me insisted on being heard.

Enserric shouted out desperately, but he was too far away.

I don't know how long passed when I came back to myself with Valen's hand on my shoulder. It could have been only a moment, it could have been an hour. I felt like I'd just woken from a neverending nightmare. Sweat beaded on the tiefling's pale forehead and he breathed deeply. Nathyrra stood back from us, a hand propped against the wall, eyes wide.

I was on my knees in the filthy water.

I pushed back to my feet with a disgusted groan, legs shaking.

I could feel the voices again, but this time they were further away.

They began to shift and merge until, eventually, they formed a single voice. A single entity.

The Elder Brain.

Its words echoed as if spoken from across an endless void. 'You have been given access to the inner sanctum — a rare privilege for a thrall.'

Valen's grip on my shoulder tightened momentarily in a comforting squeeze before he let go.

'We can see many of your thoughts, thrall,' it said. I swallowed nervously. 'We see you are an enemy of the Valsharess, and you know the illithid are her allies. Is that why you have come to see the Overmind of Zorvak'Mur?'

"Yes," I fought for a steady voice. "I want you to withdraw your support."

It seemed unsurprised. 'Zorvak'Mur is only a small part of a larger whole. Throughout the Underdark, the Overminds of many illithid pools have pledged allegiance to the Valsharess. We Overminds now act as one Elder Concorde. Only a consensus of all the Overminds linked through the Elder Concorde can end our alliance.'

"And what do you want from me to convince you?" I pressed, already aware of the price.

I could feel it weighing my pack down.

I suddenly thought of my parents and my dog, walking through the sunlight. I bit my cheek against the threatening tears.

I would see them again.

Laughter echoed all around us. Mocking. Knocking.

I pushed the thoughts of my loved ones aside, locking them in a box — away from the creature's prying eyes — along with everyone else I had lost.

'A thrall could never convince the Elder Concorde of anything… but we of the Zorvak'Mur Overmind could sway the Concorde to abandon the Valsharess.' It seethed. 'The illithid detest the drow; they are not fit to serve as thralls. Yet we have been forced to follow the Valsharess and her army of dark elves despite our hatred of them.'

I narrowed my eyes, waiting.

'We illithid only follow the Valsharess because many of our pods are not strong enough to stand against her pet. If you gave us the power to oppose her, we could withdraw our support.'

"And how do I do that?" I shifted the weight of my pack.

'We once had a winged elf from the surface join the ranks of our thralls. Strange how an entire village of winged elves found themselves below the surface.' I could feel its satisfaction. 'But you already know this.'

I pulled my pack carefully from my back, mindful of the water at our feet, gently removing the wrapped bundle from within.

'The magical mirror the elves used to spy on their enemies would give us the power to stand against the Valsharess,' it hummed in satisfaction, as I unwrapped the bundle, presenting our prize.

"I give you this mirror, I have your word you will not move against Lith My'athar?" I pressed, mirror in hand.

I passed my pack to Valen and stepped towards the murky depths of the pool.

'We would not waste energy lying to a thrall,' I could hear its disgust. 'But we ask one more thing of you. A sign of good faith.'

This stopped me short, mirror poised above the pool.

I wracked my brain for what they could want but came up short.

I did, however, remember the outcome if the deal it didn't go well; the mad fight out of our own minds before trying to escape the city.

And with nothing to show for it, too.

No, we need this deal to happen.

'Your ring,' it insisted, giving me pause.

I looked down at the cursed ring on my hand, frowning. But I couldn't remove it…

I could feel its dissatisfaction. No, it didn't want that ring.

"My…" I started, blinking in surprise. I lifted a hand to my chest, where my ring sat on a chain.

The only thing I had left from home.

Valen approached me, my pack slung effortlessly over a broad shoulder. He silently took the mirror, freeing up my hands. A gentle frown — filled with concern and curiosity — marred his features.

I shook my head minutely at the monster before us, clasping my chest.

'We need a sign of goodwill,' the Elder Brain insisted, uncaring. 'The artefact from your world will do nicely.' It paused, before humming. 'And we admit; we're curious.'

In a daze, I loosened my armour, reaching into my neckline and pulling the chain free. I lifted it over my head, hands shaking.

The silver chain caught the dim light of the room, and the white gold band gleamed at me. It was as untarnished as the day it was given to me.

I ran a finger over the engraving within — Always — biting my lip against the rush of emotions it brought. I scrunched my eyes against the sight of the writhing mass before us.

I'm sorry.

'Jane…' Enserric started at my pain, his voice gentle.

Not even my real name, spoken for the first time in over a year, could shock me out of my daze.

When I opened my eyes again, they were hard and dry.

I pulled back my arm and tossed the ring and chain towards the pool with a snarl. It sunk into the murky depths and disappeared.

Without looking at him, I snatched the mirror from Valen, ignoring the satisfaction that oozed from the Elder Brain.

I placed the mirror in the pool, sickened at the thickness of the water.

My ring's final resting place. Here; amongst all of this evil.

I shook my head, hissing only; "Here."

The mirror floated for a brief second on the surface of the pool's lapping goo. It quickly began to melt and dissolve, the water bubbling all around it. Soon, there was nothing left.

'Return to your Seer, thrall,' the Elder Brain was done with us. 'Inform her that the Valsharess no longer has the support of the Elder Concorde or the illithid.'

I should have felt satisfaction; our first big win. But I felt only numb. All of the power had leached from my body. This world — full of darkness and death — had taken the only thing I had left from my world.

And then, the room dissolved before us as we were teleported away.


THEN

The weeks passed, and then the months. Early autumn turning into winter. My training became both more demanding, yet easier to face.

The roundness fell away from my face and I learnt to sew, taking in my jeans at the waist, before giving up on them entirely and buying a new pair of leather breeches.

The leaves fell from the trees and then it started snowing in earnest, a constant blanket of white covering the town and never letting up.

With the snow came a stronger determination to train.

It wouldn't be long.

I hunted regularly with Farghan and his winter wolf — definitely not a dog. Our prey moving on from rabbits and deer to feral wolves and giant spiders. The latter dealt with, with equal levels of determination and shrill screaming.

I'd continued training with the guards, but had taken up archery practice in place of the blade with Misha.

Every now and again I would still run drills with her and the others, using one of the small knives Farghan had crafted for me, instead. I'd occasionally use them for their intended purpose; throwing. But I hadn't taken to it like I had archery and it fell further and further down my list of priorities.

Every day that I wasn't out with Farghan, I would head out with the guards, running the path between Hilltop and Blumberg in the freezing cold, lungs burning with cold.

Autumn held very little excitement, but as winter settled in, the forest's inhabitants started getting braver.

It was on one of those trips that I was in my first real fight, hiding behind a row of armed guards with my bow in hand as I watched them take down a band of attacking goblins. One particularly agile one had managed to get behind their lines, Misha felling him as I fumbled with my knife.

The second attack I was more prepared for, getting off a couple of shots and taking some of the shrill little goblins down. I'd celebrated in the 'Hall with some of the guards that night. They'd shouted me an endless supply of ale, and I'd tried my best to pretend that I hadn't just killed something. Most of the evening was a blur, but I still faintly recalled attempting to teach the song Wonderwall to some of the more vocal guards towards the end of the night.

When we were eventually attacked by a party of kobolds on one of our runs, I was ready. For the first time, I was an asset in the fight, killing my share of the scaly reptilian creatures, with a cold and detached determination.

After that fight, I took a particular interest in their bodies, spending as much time as I could studying them as the other guards cleaned up and I collected my arrows from the dead.

The next night I went out on my own for the first time, sneaking past our guard on watch, and tracking the few creatures that had escaped the fight to a nearby cave. I'd crept in, slaughtering them in their sleep.

The first one had been the hardest.

I spent hours looking over their bodies for weaknesses, studying my enemy so that they couldn't ever get the drop on me. I left before the sun rose, Emma's hawk — now a constant, if distant, companion — dipping in and out of the trees ahead of me as I snuck back into camp and pretended to wake with the rest. I'd washed their blood out from under my nails before breakfast.

At the school, Drogan was as distant as ever.

He would occasionally task me with something mundane whilst he trained the others with a heavy hand. The closest I got to his particular brand of training was on a particularly cold winter day. I was tasked with tying Misha's hands behind her back so she could complete a stupidly dangerous task for him. We'd watched her, on the outskirts of the town — an arrow nocked to my bow, just in case — as she'd charged her way through a band of goblins to collect a particularly ordinary rock Drogan had requested.

Once she had the rock in her mouth, she'd charged right back at us, unscathed.

Dorna, Xanos and I had finished them off, protecting Misha in her vulnerable state.

I stockpiled my coins, picking up as many odd-jobs as I could around town in my limited free time. I collected hides for the tanner, meat for the tavern's cook, herbs for Farghan, poisonous plants for the shady merchant at the 'Cauldron, and crafted arrows for the militia.

I travelled back to the kobold's cave three times more — careful never to be stuck out there at night, alone. I took everything of worth from their corpses, selling them to Fiona, the smith. She didn't ask where they came from. I didn't tell her.

The third time, on my way back, I'd heard a horrible scream in the distance. At first, I'd frozen, fearing the worst. But then I realised what it was.

It was an animal in pain.

I felt my heart clench and considered my options for only a moment.

I'd dropped the kobold's belongings in the snow, and had darted through the trees towards it, drawing my bow as I'd run, slowing only when the sounds had suddenly stopped.

I'd held my breath, listening for any clues as to what I had heard.

Then, a twig had snapped and I realised I was being attacked. No time to counter, a woman had pounced at me from the shadows.

A dryad, I now knew.

She'd pinned me to the ground, her tanned face an inch from my own. Her impossibly green eyes had borne into my own, her bark-like hair tickling my face. She'd been smiling, mirth in her eyes as we took each other in.

We'd stared at each other in silence before she'd given me a kiss on the cheek and thanked me in a soft lilting voice. With a laugh, she'd disappeared as quickly as she'd appeared, leaving behind a chalice made of wood — the same tint as her skin — in the snow beside me.

I'd searched for the source of the initial noise, but had found nothing.

I'd relayed my story to Drogan that same night, who had listened intently. He'd looked my chalice over with a critical gaze, before taking a tentative sip.

I'd been shocked at the sound of him swallowing, despite it having been empty a moment before.

He'd dragged a hand over his smiling mouth, handing it back to me. He patted me on the back, a rare show of appreciation.

"You must have done something right, to have gained a dryad's favour," he admonished. "She must have been testing you. Keep it. It will grant you greater endurance when you need it."

I discovered that a single sip — all that the chalice would give, once a day — helped me through my afternoon slump, pushing me through my increasingly long days.

I'd found myself in a rhythm of sorts, always preparing myself for the impending fight, so that I could survive it. Always at the back of my mind was the hope that when this was all done and dusted, I could return home.

Now, I sat at The Caldron on a rare night out, thinking over how far I'd come — and how far I had to go — with a drink untouched in hand. Home not far from my thoughts.

Xanos and Dorna sat across from me, onto their second or third round. I listened as they jested about "dear Misha" failing her latest test, a smile lighting up Xanos' face at the young woman's misfortune.

I grimaced, remembered the sound of her slamming her door across the hall from me earlier that day, as I'd prepared to go out for the evening.

So that's what that had been about…

"Like you'd've done better!" Dorna scoffed at him, motioning to the bar wench, Jill, that she was almost ready for a top-up.

Jill's usually pale cheeks were flushed red, as she motioned in annoyance at the busy table she was currently serving.

"Can't get good service," Dorna muttered as Xanos spoke over her.

"On the contrary! I tend to do exactly what Master Drogan asks me to do. If he says to rescue the goblin child, then I'll rescue the goblin child. It is not so difficult." He puffed his chest out.

I scoffed, remembering a time not so long ago when he'd used up all of his focus crystals teleporting out of a sticky situation he kept charging back into. After the third one, Drogan had told him he would get no more, in front of everyone.

I'd caught him trying to jimmy my door open that night and had made sure to keep my own single one nearby ever since.

He glanced my way, frowning at my open scoff.

"Hmph," Dorna jeered. "I somehow doubt Drogan would ask you to rescue anything that he didn't expect you to try to rob, first." She looked over her almost empty glass at me, no-doubt remembering the same night.

He threw back his head and laughed, patting Dorna on the back a little too roughly. "You're the aspiring thief here, Dorna. Not I!"

"Oh, we know," I muttered into my cup with a smirk, earning a mischievous grin from Dorna.

I finished the last of my drink and placed it roughly onto the table with a smile at the two of them.

"Well, thanks for shouting the drink," I started. They both scoffed. "But that's it for me. I've got an early morning with Farghan."

Dorna wolf whistled whilst Xanos groaned.

"I like a man with scars," she hummed with a cheeky grin.

I lifted an eyebrow at her, before standing.

"Typical Emma," Xanos said. "Ready to go before the night has even started." He rolled his eyes towards Dorna. "At least you know how to have some fun."

I very pointedly did not put any coins down on the table before leaving, their undignified shouts following me out.

I grabbed my cloak from the rack by the door and rugged up, before pushing out into the chill.

The wind howled at me, and the snow crunched underfoot. I could faintly make out the lights from the school in the distance.

Nobody was around. Nobody was stupid enough to be caught outside long, in this cold.

Despite all of my hard work, I still wasn't prepared the next morning, when we were attacked.

But thank shit I wasn't hungover like those idiots were.


NOTEBOOK EXTRACT

A dirty page, once torn from the notebook, has been wedged back into place. The edges of the paper are frayed and stained with what appears to be droplets of water.

There's a note, written in Jane's messy scrawl. It's harder to read than usual and looks like it's been written with a shaky hand.

Seer,

This woman was being auctioned off in Zorvak'Mur.

Pleases give her sanctuary. She needs help. The kind I think you can give.

She appears to be a warrior. Imloth will be able to put her to good use.

Thanks,

Emma