An unknown time later, Matiya awoke to a stealthy sliding noise. Upon waking, her eyes stayed closed and her body gave no indication she was conscious. She instinctively geared herself to reach for the White Sword first, but then remembered it was of no use to her in it's current condition. Instead, she redirected her attention to the other sword she carried. It was close at her right hand, she could sense it there. She could also sense Achilles awake as well. Whoever was sneaking up on them had no idea what they were screwing with.

The sound grew closer. Whatever it was tried not to make any noise at all, and actually succeeded rather well. If the two of them had not been Champions, they probably would have been overtaken in their sleep. Her thoughts now turned to Malachai. Was he between the sound and her and Achilles? No, she remembered he had slid his bed closer to the fireplace, and furthest from the door.

Now a sound like slow, scraping, sliding feet started up. Sliiide-step. Sliiide-step. It was almost within killing distance of her sword. Just a couple more slide-steps, and it would be in gutting-range. Before she could react she heard something whizz through the air, make a meaty impact into something else and a ululating squeal cut the air. She was up in an instant, fast enough to see something retreating out the door. Something pale and thin and...dead-looking. From above her in the rafters she heard a low, harsh voice whisper in contempt, "Amateur."

Achilles was up and next to her by this time, and they both peered into the dark rafters above their head. A form moved up there, then swung down, stepped onto the fireplace's hearth and nimbly shimmied down it to the floor.

"Mal! What were you doing up there?"

He smiled eerily and said, "Watching." He looked at the door and calmly added, "I need to retrieve my dagger from whatever that was. It won't be far."

"Hey! You can't just...aw fuck." Matiya groused as he walked out the door, strangely without fear or concern. Achilles was already out the door behind him.

The inn was engulfed in complete blackness, and utter silence again. Suddenly, a clatter from the end of the hall by the stairs, an angry human growl, and then the high-pitched howl of the creature from earlier. A thumping-bumping sound followed, as if someone...or ones...were falling down the stairs. Matiya and Achilles headed for the sound, swords drawn. They about ran into Malachai who held the dagger in his hand.

"It's gone for now." He said, and went silently past them back to the room.

When they returned to the room, he was stoking the dying fire in the fireplace. "He is NOT alone. I have seen more from the windows. They come out of the woods, from under houses, from holes in the ground. I know not what they are." His tone was matter-of-fact, and devoid of fear.

He wiped his knife off, there was a strange black liquid on it. "You think they're...human? Something else?" Matiya asked.

"They are very thin and pale, with no hair. They are unclothed." He paused for a moment and frowned before saying, "They were the people that lived here."

"How are you in knowing of that, Malachai?" Achilles asked.

"Because they know this place well. Stay to it and defend it." He looked to both his companions at this, "And they will return in greater numbers, soon." He went to gathering his pack and weapons, preparing for a fast exit. "They are human, without being human. They look and feel like…husks."

Matiya snapped her fingers in recognition and exclaimed "The Soulless! They should only be in The Depths, that means Eridus has something to do with this. So close to Schilliner...Gods!"

Before any of them could say another word, several sliding thumping noises began downstairs. It sounded like a number of the things were now inside the inn and slouching towards the staircase.

"I'll not allow these filth to trap me like a rat!" Achilles said angrily. He picked up his shield and sword and strode through the door to the stairs. Once at the top, he gave the shield a turn and one of it's more unique traits manifested itself: a beam of brilliant white light shone forth from the shield, illuminating the scores of creatures that clogged the staircase below.

He beheld an assembly of truly wretched humanoid beings. Dozens of points of orange light reflected back to him from their unnaturally large, dead eyes. Their toothless mouths hung open giving them a vapid appearance. The light made them shrink down low to the floor and look away from it.

"Part! Immediately! Let us by, do you not know what we are?" he roared. Some of them hissed at him, while others shrank back and covered their smooth heads with stick-like fingers.

Matiya appeared next to him, and before she could speak, their attention snapped to her in unison, like a flock of birds flying in sync.

"They're drawn to the White Sword. Eridus' blood taints it. Fuck!"

Malachai came up them behind them carrying a torch made from a bedpost and bedsheets and threw it down into the horde of creatures. "BURN!" He screamed, and they all scattered, some of them on fire. They got only a few shuffle-steps before they dropped and simply burned to nothing but fragile bone-dust.

"That's our only way out, Slim! What the hell ya doin'?" Matiya exclaimed. The dry wood of the inn was fast to catch fire, and the burning creatures spread flame to other surfaces in their wakes. Most of the creatures now seemed to be inside the Inn, and fire jumped from one to the other just as easily. Soon the horde of them were on fire.

He ran back in the room and Achilles and Matiya followed. They grabbed their packs and Malachai said, "Here!" pushing open a window. Beneath it was the roof of the general goods store. They each crawled out onto the roof and then dropped a short distance to the ground. The fire in the inn was quickly spreading, and the way the buildings were close together, most of Killingham would probably be a smoldering heap by morning.

"Not out of danger yet!" Achilles called and motioned for them to follow him. They dashed after him, and all three of them headed for the road at top speed. White shapes appeared at the edges of town, and Achilles once again called the light to his shield and pointed it at them. The horrible pale things shrunk back from the light, blinded and dazzled, but closed in behind them as they ran up the road.

"Stay close!" He yelled and ran in front, while Matiya and Malachai kept close together and attempted to keep up.

They broke out on the road and passed the black and red sign that read "KILLINGHAM". The pale things from the town were no longer following them, unwilling to leave what they knew so well. The only thing they knew at all anymore. Achilles paced angrily back and forth for several seconds before slamming the edge of his now-dark shield into the sign and shattering it.

"Their souls were TAKEN!" he raged. "STOLEN! And the bodies used like cattle! They were people! Mothers, fathers, children. Now they are nothing. There's nothing in their eyes. I saw, I saw..." Achilles knelt on the ground and pounded a fist into it, overcome. The voracious blaze at the inn, fully visible through the trees, silhouetted his form.

Matiya patted him on the back, "This is what I'm trying to keep from happening everywhere. Would you want to go into Schilliner and find that? I don't think I…" she paused and swallowed hard, "…I don't think I could take that."

She allowed him a few minutes to compose himself and then quietly said, "Come on. Let's find a safe place to camp for what's left of the night." They moved on from the depressing remains of Killingham, weary and heavy of heart. Each of them were lost in their own concerns and memories. Malachai thought of Gatlin and Ruth and wondered what would happen if this started to occur in the mortal realm. What would become of her? Conversely, what if he himself fell victim to it? Would she come across and find him a pale shell of a creature? He finally thought of the enormity of such a thing happening on a grand scale in this realm. What would happen to those in the mortal realm when they Became? Instead of a transitioning, they'd fall right into a hell of servitude and hopelessness.

Matiya thought of her people that had already fallen victim to this, and of the people of Killingham themselves. She had just gone through there, and stayed at that very inn several times during her travels in this realm. She wondered how this happened to them so fast? There had to be some reason for an entire town to fall to this...taint! They'd always been a rather standoffish lot, sometimes downright unfriendly, but everyone always chalked it up to how isolated the town was. They mainly grew and raised their own food, they barely associated with anyone. There had to be something about THEM that caused this, something that made them turn away from the Gods, and gave them some kind of false hope, that played on their insecurities about outsiders. Something...

"We gotta go back." Matiya said, stopping suddenly.

"NOW?!" Achilles looked at her in shock. He didn't EVER want to back there.

"No man. In the morning. After Sol rises." She began walking again. "Lets make camp right up here, that way it's not too far."

"Are you mad?" Achilles exclaimed. Even Malachai was looking at her strangely, but didn't say a word to the contrary.

"No, this time I'm curious. Something caused that entire town to turn, and I want to know what it was." She gestured towards Achilles and then pointed back at the dead town, "You know where Soulless come from, and it's not from the middle of quaint small villages in the sticks. They're just as afraid to leave their town as they were in life, so some of their…humanity…is still left. This happened fast. Why them? Who was Eridus' hand in this? He didn't do this himself."

Malachai was trying to find a comfortable place on the ground, though listening intently, "There's more like this? Where do they come from?"

Achilles sighed, "The Soulless actually started out as, well...leftovers. They were not intended to go outside of The Depths."

"They're kinda like zombies, Mal. Sometimes when very bad or disturbed people die in the mortal realm and Become, a part of them still attempts to continue doing whatever it was they did as humans. This stubborn part was separated from the pure soul so they could receive piece. The stubborn parts were contained in the deepest part of The Depths, as these leftover husks and allowed to expire. They weren't meant to go anywhere else." She looked over at Achilles, and noted his upset expression, "Hell, these weren't bad people, or disturbed people, they were just plain people. This is an unnatural thing to happen here. Fuck that, it's downright disturbing.

"Stubborn parts…" Malachai said. His brows furrowed slightly then he added, "Like cutting out the rotten part on a piece of fruit or tearing the mold off bread?"

"I'd say that's a close approximation." Matiya agreed.

"They were called 'Soulless' because they no longer had a soul of their own?"

"Essentially." Matiya watched him with narrowed eyes. He was working things out in that head of his. She wondered if perhaps this would be enough to send him back to Schilliner, and she wouldn't blame him. She knew the Soulless were out of control in The Depths, but she hadn't seen them infiltrating here yet. This chilled even her jaded bones.

"But these people had souls already? Were they…aware of what was happening to them? Did they consent? Did someone lead them to think this was right?" His questions sounded more like statements.

"I certainly hope the answer in all these questions would be 'no'. I fear, however, that the real answer is more heartbreaking." Achilles stated as he searched for a comfortable place in the tall grasses.

"We have to go back, indeed." Malachai huffed, allaying Matiya's fears about the Fire King losing his nerve. "That is nothing short of theft! No, even worse than murder! How would one punish the theft of a human souls? We must find out how this happened." He looked to his companions with wide eyes.

"I believe that is the question that led to the Prophecy coming about. That type of punishment is best left to the Gods for those of their own ilk, since they're the ones perpetratin' shit like this." Matiya looked over at Achilles, "So, you're in agreement to go back and check it out?"

Achilles ran a hand through his hair in frustration and nodded in the affirmative before laying down to make an attempt at sleep. Matiya followed suit, and ended with, "Sleep tight, everyone. At least we got the morning to look forward to."

They slept fitfully the rest of the night. The morning found them still tired and upset. They made a fire, and shared a meager breakfast, though no one had much appetite. Achilles and Matiya shared a smoke, and didn't say much. Dread of the return trip to Killingham spoke louder than any words the three travelers could say. Finally, they packed up camp, and trudged back up the road to the cursed village.

The narrow road leading up to Killingham in morning daylight was slightly less unnerving than at dusk, but still felt off somehow. Malachai said he didn't feel watched this time, and Matiya and Achilles agreed. They saw the smoke rising from the clearing before they reached it, and smelled burning wood. When they finally arrived at Killingham itself, they found most of the buildings on the inn side of the village burned. Fire still guttered in some of the buildings. The inn was little more than a pile of charred wood. The houses on the other side of the village's clearing remained intact.

"Lets go through some of the houses. Maybe there's some clues to what happened here." Matiya suggested. They split up and each entered one of the small houses.

Achilles soon came out and yelled, "Nothing in this one!" and moved on to the next.

Matiya came from the blacksmith's shop and yelled, "Nothing in the smithy." And went on to a house a bit over from it. Malachai still had not come out from the first house he had entered.

Eventually his companions noticed this and began calling his name. Finally, he peeked out of the doorway of the small house he'd entered and said, "Come here and see this."

They headed over to him and went inside. The interior of the house was very small and cozy. Little more than a living and kitchen area with a bedroom attached. Malachai motioned for them to follow him into the bedroom. Once there, he sat down on the bed, and showed them a handwritten book he'd found.

"Where was this?" Matiya asked, after reading for a couple seconds.

"It was lying open under the edge of the bed. Here..." he pointed to the side nearest the door.

"What is it?" Achilles looked over Matiya's shoulder. The words and writing were odd. The beginning of the book started off as a farmer's journal, giving very detailed information about the weather and the 'waxing' and 'waning' seasons in this realm and what type of plants grew during these times. It spoke of the positions of Sol and Grol, times of days, and was a wealth of information for anyone with an interest in the agriculture of this realm. This information is what had piqued Malachai's interest at first, and then the book had taken a strange turn. Amid all the treatment of cloud patterns, wind direction and temperature a mention of a man visiting town came up in the author's otherwise factual narrative.

It was from this portion of the journal Matiya read from now, "'He come by his own, with no food nor water.'" She read, concentrating on the wispy handwriting in front of her, "'He have no horse or sword, and we felt no threat. He spake of the drought in Schilliner and death and bid us ask the clouds for favor lest it visit us.'" She stopped at this point and looked up. "There was no drought in Schilliner! Ask the clouds for favor? What the hell?" Matiya exclaimed. "Who was this guy?"

Achilles took the book from her, scanning the pages, and then flipping through a few forward. More about the weather. Heat, rain, wind, nothing more about this man until several pages in. The writing slowly transformed from the wispy, careful script to more careless and scribbly writing. "'Calenthis led us in prayer to He Who Shapes the Clouds. We renounced Chimus, who has destroyed Schilliner, and only know He Who Shapes the Clouds. We reveled in His name tonight and made offerings! We have renounced all but Him, and shall not suffer unbelievers! Praise God! Praise the Lord!'"

Malachai drew back and seemed disturbed by the last lines Achilles read; then sat down on the edge of the bed, frowning.

"Calenthis. Was that the dude that came in town or someone else?" Matiya asked, reading over Achilles' shoulder.

"I cannot tell. It is not clear."

"Destroyed Schilliner…shit." Matiya said in wonderment, "They were so entrenched in here they had no idea what was going on anywhere else, to know what was true and what wasn't. Nobody would stop in here anymore either, so they were like sitting ducks. Easy pickin's."

Achilles went to flip to the next page, and the book happened to slip in his hands and flipped to a worn part that looked like it had been open and set down at that point. It had probably fallen on the floor that way, and was how Malachai discovered it. Both pages were covered with scratches in what looked like dried blood and what words were there looked like they were drawn by a child, the writing and spelling almost unreadable. The only words they could discern were:

N PANE! HRT! HUNGER! LEGS R DED!

"What the fuck..." Matiya whispered.

Malachai spoke up, "'In pain. Hurt. Hungry. My legs are dead.'"

The three of them looked at each other. "They felt themselves…turning. They weren't dead, weren't ready…weren't…" Achilles finally said in horror.

Matiya sat down on the bed and stared at the floor, angry. Then she stood up and walked outside. She stood in the courtyard and called out, "FUCK YOU, ERIDUS! We know about your bullshit! Why don't you send your traveling salesman here now?" Stood there for a moment and added, "Why don't YOU come out now!"

At first only echoes answered her, followed by creepy silence.

"You're not going to DO this to people here! I won't LET you get away with it!" She began looking around. "Help me find something to make a torch with. The rest of this place gotta go, all this shit, down to the ground."

They grabbed towels or curtains and sheets, broke several pieces of furniture and made torches, which they lit in the fires still going at the inn and surrounding buildings. They lit the remains of poor, beleaguered Killingham on fire and watched it burn.

"Chimus, please forgive them. Mother, please find them and guide them to peace." Matiya felt anger and sorrow as she spoke these words. Achilles openly wept, and Malachai stood staring at the scene in a kind of trance.

"This was Gatlin." He finally said. "And these people were us. We didn't look like this, but our minds were dead. Isaac knew though. He had to know what was happening to us when we gave ourselves to the 'Lord'." He shook his head and looked up into the sky. "He Who Shapes the Clouds...He Who Walks Behind the Rows...bullSHIT! It was all bullshit."

Two tears fell from his eyes and he wiped them away angrily, then turned and stalked off up the road. He was done with Killingham. Achilles and Matiya were soon after, giving him a little recovery space. Matiya hadn't seen this much anger from him since he'd first came out of the cornfield. She certainly couldn't blame him. She'd been there too. More importantly, she'd been where Isaac was too. She hadn't made his acquaintance yet, but she had a small hope she'd be able get through to him before he was lost. If SHE could be saved, then others like her should be able to as well. It was opening their eyes that was hard.

The rest of the day's journey was mostly made in silence, the three of them completely lost in their own thoughts.

"We've lost some time." Achilles finally said as the shadows grew long. "But there's not much to be done. I say we make camp and try to rest."

The others agreed and they made their camp for the night. Matiya produced a flask of northern whiskey Lena had given her for 'emergencies'. She decided this was enough of an emergency and shared the flask among them. Even Malachai had a few swigs, though the first made him grimace. Achilles packed a pipe from one of the velvet pouches, which were apparently his emergency contingency. Malachai declined, he still had no desire for smoke, but Matiya and Achilles partook with relish. They laid back on their packs and blankets and watched the strange colors in the sky as day became night, and Grol's eye sparked angrily in its home overhead.

Their sleep was very deep. If there were dreams, none of them remembered them the next morning.