Warning: this chapter includes more violent content than previously seen in the rest of the story thus far, and could be viewed as disturbing or inappropriate for younger audiences. Reader discretion is advised.

Hi everyone! We're in the middle of a second semi-lockdown in the Netherlands over here. 5 weeks of sitting at home, all public locations are closed and only the essential stores remain open. But at least this means I have time to work on my at-home projects. The vaccine will be here very soon! Until then, please stay indoors as much as you can and stay safe!

"Come on, get up. I said get up!"

"Wa—" Asterix groggily rubbed a tired eye. He had woken at least twice overnight. Again, by the same dragon friend that haunted his dreams. He swore, those nightmares became more vivid and real every time he had them. He even began to wonder if one of those Elder Dragons was deliberately pestering him for entertainment.

This time though, he was rudely awakened not by a dragon, but by an impatient sylvari. He had already packed his things, and was now tirelessly prodding and pushing the poor Gaul. The bear received several pokes as well, who responded with an annoyed growl.

"I'm awake, I'm awake. Sheesh…" Asterix groaned. His back ached in discomfort when he sat upright. He must've moved and laid on the cold ground for some time. He was going to start his day with one of those bland ration bars, but discovered much to his surprise that his backpack was packed for him already, aside from the sleeping bag he had slept in. The campfire was doused with water. Bohan shot a somewhat irritated glance and tossed him his black tunic, now dry once more, but cold and still smelly.

"Let's go. We don't have any time to waste," he said in an unusually peppy tone as he turned and headed out. The mixture of emotions baffled the Gaul, who was still trying to register what just had happened. Had Bohan just woken himself early just to prepare everything for the next search? Asterix appreciated that he allowed him to sleep while he packed. He would have to return that favor.

But it was still so dark in here. So peaceful. He was still so tired.

He sighed and quickly pulled the tunic over his head, then he woke Bobbo with some pats on the head and a whisper. It took a little while, but the grizzly was eventually convinced and slowly rose to his feet. He rolled up the musty sleeping bag to store it, and before heaving the backpack onto his back, he quickly dug out two ration bars. Taking off the wrapper more easily than he did the first time, he offered a bar to Bobbo, who happily accepted it. The other he would eat while they traveled. He knew one small bar meant to feed a person wouldn't feed a bear, but Bobbo thankfully had the convenient tendency to scavenge his own food as he followed. He just felt that the bear could use a little boost.

He then wondered if Bohan had eaten yet as well, and decided to take out one more just in case. The bag was heaved onto his back, and he went outside. He was anticipating the sun to blind him in his first step outdoors, so he had a hand raised to block the incoming light.

But that light never came as he walked outside. The moon was hanging low, and he could see the black and blue sky, with indigo hues creeping in from the horizon. Here and there were blobs of smoke reaching to the heaven. And there was a light chill still in the air. It was far too early, but Bohan stood there, impatiently tapping his foot against the ground rhythmically, his folded-up map in hand. The Gaul did not appreciate that they were heading back out at night, when they agreed with going at dawn. The Mordrem were most active at night. But he also understood the reason behind that choice. Time was still of the essence, so he decided not to press the issue. He offered the bar as he caught up with the sylvari instead.

"Did you eat yet?" he asked.

Bohan looked down at the object, at first irritated, but then he took it and faked a smile. "I haven't, actually. Thanks."

Asterix smiled back, but recognized the forced grimace on Bohan's face. He knew the sylvari wanted to find his friend soon, and the stresses of fighting his own kind as well as constantly being painted as a traitor by strangers must have given him a shorter fuse than usual. But he wondered if there was more going on. Pocketing the ration bar as if Asterix wouldn't notice, the sylvari gazed at the stars, and then unfolded his map. He skimmed it impatiently, and them almost immediately looked back up and pointed towards a direction. "That way," he said, and started walking in large strides without any time to waste.

He didn't even bother to read his map. He just somehow knew, but still bothered to try and fake it like he didn't. Try. Asterix still noticed.

"You alright?" the Gaul asked as he quickened his pace to keep up. Bohan hummed and stared at his map, ignoring the question.

"No strange thoughts? Any urges?" he tried again. The sylvari halted and looked at Asterix with obvious shock and betrayal on his face.

"You think I'm turning."

"I'm only looking out for you," the Gaul answered honestly. "You've been acting strange, and we're still dealing with a jungle dragon here."

"You don't need to remind me. The dragon isn't important. Liliwen is."

"The dragon is important," Asterix stressed. "It might be affecting you without even knowing it."

"My mind is my own," Bohan said with a darkness to his voice. "If you don't trust me, then I'll go alone." And the sylvari started walking again. Asterix stood in place for a moment, a bit dumbfounded. His impatient self would indeed let Bohan go alone at this point. All he needed to do was walk back into the cave and wait until morning. Maybe take the extra nap he so craved. Bohan would be gone by the time he was rested, and he would be free to go his own way. Get out of this miserable jungle with its awful mosquitoes and pocket raptors, and least friendly of all those Mordrem.

"Afraid I can't let you do that," he grumbled, and pressed on. He was probably just imagining things, he thought to himself. If Bohan really was turning, he probably would have already murdered him in his sleep. It would have taken far less effort than leading him into a trap, that much was certain. Asterix quickened his stride, catching up with the fast-walking sylvari, and made sure to check if Bobbo was also keeping up.

Sometimes it felt like the jungle looked the same everywhere. Perhaps it was because the small group was now exploring it at nearly twice the pace. And it was still dark, so things looked similar much of the time. Asterix noticed that Bohan, while he led on, no longer made zig-zag patterns to cover more ground. Their direction was always the same, leading straight forward, further due south. The thought that they were headed straight toward a dragon worried Asterix.

No, it scared him. There was an unsettling feeling forming deep from the base of his spine and crawling upward slowly. That physical feeling when he knew he was about to do something he was afraid to do. Looking down a cliff, imagining that he could so easily fall, would trigger that feeling too. He had no idea how far away that dragon was still, but he knew that he didn't want to meet it. But he did wonder what it may look like.

Would it be easy to tell if they met it? Is it just a big traditional winged lizard, or would it be made from plant and bark, like its minions? How big would it be?

Then an even scarier thought crossed his mind. What if they were walking on its back right at this very moment? Would it have noticed them? He shivered and wanted to cast the thoughts away, but the worry continued to gnaw at him. He was surprised they didn't run into any ambush yet.

As they ventured further south, the nightsky gave way for dawn. Thank the gods, he thought. Daylight. He was glad it didn't take any longer than he thought it would. He could already hear the earliest morning birds sing, which would soon turn into a cacophony the more joined.

Suddenly, Bohan stopped. The concerned Gaul slowed his pace, staring at the sylvari like he had turned to stone. "What's wrong?" he inquired.

"Look." The sylvari bent over, scanning the ground. It was only then that Asterix noticed the tracks. It looked like there had been a fight, or perhaps a struggle. Some of the tracks were small and thin; perhaps someone light on their feet. Then there were many clawed humanoid ones. The enemy's, obviously. Finally, there were more drag marks and traces of blood. But the blood was red. It came from a fleshy being that wasn't sylvari. A Mordrem patrol must have caught another victim for one of their horrible blighting trees. When he then looked higher up, he noticed a few Mordrem arrows lodged in the trees.

They had to be careful here.

While he inspected the arrows to determine where they had been shot from, Bobbo inspected the ground with his nose. He wondered if the bear's sense of smell was as keen as a canine's, or if he was just looking for more grubs in the earth. Bohan picked up a lone dagger off the ground, recognizing the pattern on its handle. Its blade was broken off, and the blood on the piece of that was left was muddy and discolored. The sand stuck to it like a glue.

"It's hers," he exclaimed, raising the knife up to his face. "Look!" he yelled as he turned toward Asterix. "She's here!"

"Quiet," Asterix hissed, startled by Bohan's racket. "The tracks are fresh. They might hear us."

But Bohan, yet again, did not listen. Instead he bounded recklessly toward where the tracks headed, calling for her name.

"Bohan, wait!"

Forced to give chase, he called for Bobbo to heel. The bear followed, and Bohan had already vanished between the bushes. Asterix tried to listen as he traced the tracks leading further away, but he heard no voices. Only the rustling of the leaves he swatted away as he came crashing through them. Finally, he found him again, in an entirely new open piece of glade.

"You're nuts!" he gasped as he tried to catch his breath. When he was yet again met with no response, he began to get angry. That is, until he noticed what Bohan saw.

Mordrem. A small company of four who had been dragging a fresh victim to their blighting tree.

And she was there, with those other three.

It was still easy to distinguish her from the Mordrem they've seen before, like she were a fresh recruit. Her leafy fronds on her head in place of hair still had their deep blue ocean color, but they were withering and flaking off. Her originally pine green skin was in the process of forming itself to become bark, tough and grey-beige, losing color. Her face, of all things, was the only thing still the same. When she looked at them, she smiled, surprised.

"Bohan? You're really here!" she laughed childishly. "I was almost beginning to wonder if you would ever find me."

That was all the confirmation Asterix needed. This was indeed Liliwen. Was. She looked at him too, and had a smile on her face, surprised to see him as well. It looked so genuine, so her, it was almost enough to convince him she may be still in there, deep inside. But it was a farce. Fake. The creature had her personality, but Liliwen was long gone. Even Bobbo knew not to trust it, and he rumbled a growl as the fur on his back stood upright.

Bohan, he stood still. Staring at Liliwen, his own coloration turned pale, nearly white. He didn't want to believe it. Then, like thunder, it crashed down on him, and he fell to his knees and started to wail.

"Monster!" he cried. "You promised! You promised she'd be okay!"

It took time to settle, but then with shock, Asterix realized who he was screaming at. He did listen to Mordremoth. He was following it, chasing empty promises that the beast fed him. That's why he was suddenly so sure about his directions. It was the dragon all along.

Liliwen grinned. "I don't know what you mean. I feel fantastic!" She laughed, and then approached them. Bobbo started baring his fangs at the Mordrem that closed in, and Asterix pulled the straps of his backpack to drop it to the ground. He drew out his sword and revolver without asking any questions, which only made Bohan withdraw further. He did not want to kill her. Anything but that!

"Liliwen…" he sobbed quietly. "Please…"

"Come Bohan." She gave the other sylvari a soft smile and reached out her hand towards him. "You don't have to be alone. Please, join me."

Bohan stared at her beckoning hand with small, tearful eyes. He wanted to stand up and take her hand. "…I…"

A short pang suddenly interrupted the scene, and Liliwen cried out when she was struck in her shoulder by the bullet. She gripped at the wound and bled golden sap. Bohan immediately knew who. He turned and watched the smoke bellow from Asterix's gun.

"Don't listen to her," he warned. "She's already gone." Deep inside Bohan knew that.

But how could he?

"You… After everything I did to help you," Liliwen snarled at the Gaul. She drew her dagger, the twin to the broken one, and shouted. "Mordremoth is infinite. You'll join him too!"

After her war cry, the other three Mordrem guard jumped in as well, joining Liliwen in the assault. The bear charged them first, fangs biting and claws swiping as he began his frenzy against the enemy. Asterix and Bohan looked for a mere second at each other.

"I'm really sorry…" said the Gaul at the sylvari, grieving the choice he was making. He broke eye contact to join Bobbo in fending the Mordrem off. Bohan knew he was expected to help them. He looked at his axe hanging from his belt, and then at the skirmish happening in front of him.

Asterix is right, he told himself, taking the hatchet into his hand. Liliwen had to be dealt with now. It was better for her. The quicker, the more merciful. But his feet refused to move. His hand unwilling to take action. He was frozen in place, unable to think straight. Doubt gnawed at him. He could only watch.

Bobbo was holding well on his own, already overwhelming the weaker two of the Mordrem, slamming down one and crushing its head underneath his paw while batting away another forcefully with his other. Before the second Mordrem could stand up, Bobbo was already onto the victim, mauling. Meanwhile, Asterix was dealing with the third, taking on a hulking creature wielding a hammer carved from stone. Its head was his size and three times his weight, but he slipped past each swing just barely, striking the behemoth with swift jabs each time he met the opportunity. While he fought, Liliwen came up behind the Gaul without him noticing, smiling wickedly when she grabbed him and forced him down to the ground. Asterix, taken by surprise, felt the air get knocked out of him when he hit the ground. His sword slipped out of his hand. He was pinned down by Liliwen, sword out of reach, and he could only stare at her murderous, manic face.

"Hush now, don't scream," she whispered, raising the dagger to bring it down.

As if called by the gods, the great grizzly roared and came up from behind Liliwen before she could bring the blade down, clamping his jaws down on the Mordrem's bleeding shoulder. She screamed and struggled, and plunged the dagger into Bobbo's neck multiple times in a panic. But it was too late. Teeth dug down deep, the bear lifted himself up on his hind legs, raising her into the air, and he started to shake her violently like a rag. Asterix rolled away as quick as he could to avoid getting caught in the onslaught. The violence went on for several seconds, until Bobbo could no longer go on and he let out a pained moan.

He and Liliwen both suddenly went limp like ragdolls, and the bear toppled over. They dropped to the ground with a resounding thud. The final Mordrem was caught under Bobbo's bulk and his own hammer. The bear's weight pressed the hammer's handle down on his throat, squeezing the windpipe until finally, he too stopped the struggle.

Shocked and disbelieving, the Gaul stared out at the pile of bodies. It all happened so soon, and the fight was already over. He could barely grasp a thought or recollection. He felt the adrenaline burn so hotly still.

"Why didn't you help?" he suddenly snapped, turning towards Bohan. Immediately he regretted saying that. He couldn't control the tone of his voice and the question was blurted out with obvious anger. But the sylvari ignored him. Yet again.

"Liliwen…" he whimpered. Slowly, he shuffled his way toward the bodies, straining like an old man. Nothing else mattered to him anymore. "Oh, Liliwen…" He pulled her from the dead animal's maw and held the limp body toward him. "Why did you run ahead? We were supposed to stick together…" he whimpered, and he gently stroked her wilting hair. "Look at you now."

Ashamed, Asterix urged himself to look away, almost feeling unwell from witnessing the scene. He knew, Liliwen was no longer Liliwen after she had turned. But it felt like they killed her all the same. Killed a friend.

And poor Bobbo… Margrit loved him so. All he did was defend him…

But the mourning had to wait, when suddenly, the voice from last night came back. A tremor shook him out of his stupor. When he started looking around, the Gaul saw the trees around him bending and shaking, creaking and actually forming words as the ground underneath them shook and heaved, like taking a deep breath. Terrified by the violence, he forced himself to the ground and prayed nothing would fall on him. He heard words he couldn't understand, but he could tell they were words. It was unnatural. Trees did not speak!

Mordremoth spoke.

"Don't listen to it!" he called out to Bohan, but his voice was drowned out by the dragon's. The sylvari did not see what happened around him. He only could look down at Liliwen's frozen face. He did not feel the tremors, only her pale cheek against his fingertips.

Then it all calmed down. The jungle went silent.

"You're right, it…it doesn't have to be this way," Bohan laughed to himself quietly. "It's alright. It is fine."

Asterix, still shaken, rose to his feet. The tremors had gone, but he still felt the shaking in his legs. "Bohan," he tried to call again.

"You can fix her. Everything can go back the way it used to be. And…we'll be together again. All I have to do is…"

"Don't do this." The Gaul made a step back.

"…give in."

Bohan stood up, dropping the body carelessly like an unimportant bag of sand. When he turned to face Asterix, he showed no expression. He took his hatchet into his hand.

"It's okay, don't feel bad. You can be part of it too. Mordremoth doesn't discriminate." Bohan squeezed the grip of the axe and his face curled into a twisted smile. "We'll all be together. He unites us."

Asterix took another step back. Bohan made two steps forward. He had hoped that Mordremoth's betrayal towards Bohan would have strengthened his resolve, that he would have blamed the dragon and resisted harder. But it seemed he had given up instead. He accepted the call, and there was only so much Asterix could do to pull him back before he was completely gone. He didn't want to kill the sylvari, that was the last thing he wanted.

"You've got to snap out of it, Bohan," he begged. He quickly picked up his sword as he worked to make distance. And yet still the manic sylvari drew closer. When the two locked eyes, Asterix noticed the expression on the sylvari change into a terrifying, smug look of a sadistic killer. That was when he realized it was all over for Bohan. He was gone.

He was afraid to break the eye contact. Yet that face scared him.

And just like that, Asterix was alone. Facing an enemy he didn't want to fight. Bohan looked so proud, to see his victim squirm and stumble away. So proud to be part of this new 'great purpose'. He knew his enemy hesitated, and he enjoyed every moment of it.

"I only want you to take part in Mordremoth's plan, Asterix." Bohan raised the hatchet to his face, breaking eye contact to look at the blade with fascination. "You won't be dead long, I promise," he taunted as he tested the edge's sharpness with his finger.

"I'd rather be dead than a dragon's puppet," the Gaul spat. Seeing his chance, he immediately went into a sprint toward the Mordrem, throwing all his weight into the charge. He shouted the best war cry he could muster, hoping to take Bohan by surprise. And it worked. The Mordrem convert had little chance to react. He swiped the axe blindly in hopes he'd hit the attacker. But it was the sword that made contact first. Bohan cried out in pain and anger when it bored itself into his shoulder.

The axe sliced Asterix next, and the pain came sudden and fierce. He didn't know yet where or how deep, the only thought he could collect was of dread and terror. He couldn't die now, not here! His body then collided into the enemy, forcing them both to the ground. He rolled for a bit, and when he stopped, all he wanted was to locate the pain.

It was his chest, Gods, don't let it be true. He tossed himself over to sit up and see the wound. His old tunic had a terrible rip, and he saw a thin line of red form underneath. The cut was shallow, but long. It wouldn't be enough to kill him outright. Suddenly he realized he was missing his sword again.

"You jerk!" cried a frustrated sylvari. Asterix scrambled to his feet while he watched Bohan look at him furiously. His shoulder had the extinguished blade lodged into it, bleeding the same golden sap over his longcoat. He growled and hissed when he grabbed the sword by the grip, setting it ablaze once more, and pulled it out. Now the sylvari had one useless arm, but he had his sword. He started to approach him like a maddened zombie, making animalistic grunts and gasps. Asterix took out his revolver next, still loaded with bullets, and pulled the gun's hammer down and aimed. If he went for the head, he would stop him.

The first shot hit the ground far behind the approaching enemy. He cursed and tried again. The second hit Bohan in his stomach, but he still walked. The warrior began to panic at this point, and unloaded all of his remaining ammo into the Mordrem. It was slowing him down, but he still approached, now looking much worse.

"Just die!" they both cried at each other in sync. In a bout of frustration, Asterix threw the empty gun at the still approaching Mordrem, only for it to hit the ground uselessly.

Then the idea hit him, and he hurriedly rushed for his dropped backpack and opened it.

Where is it? Where is it?! He frantically searched, noticing Bohan closing in from the corner of his eye.

"There!"

He snatched the page and shook it until it unfolded itself and placed it down on the ground. Bohan was no more than eight feet away from him, and he started to clumsily swing the sword around in a fit of rage. The Gaul could nearly feel the heat singe his hair. It was now or never.

He pressed two fingers down onto the signet, then grasped the paper up and held it aloft, pretending it was a shield. He waited, fear gripping his throat as each second went by that he waited. Then there was a sudden and powerful reaction. It felt like thunder coursing through him, but not actually striking or hurting him. He shut his eyes tight out of impulse. The signet's sketches lit up, and as if it were Taranis striking his fury upon them, an ear deafening explosion rang through their ears, and the flash was so bright he could see the light shine through his eyelids.

Dazed, he dropped the page. Or did it disintegrate? He couldn't feel it in his hands anymore. It was simply gone.

In fact, he felt nothing at all. Not even when his hands hit the ground when he nearly collapsed.

Slowly he recollected his thoughts. He wasn't dead. He could tell by the loud ringing in his ears and the nausea. The sting that still lingered on his chest, now dull. Between the panic, he was grateful that he closed his eyes. That spell would have rendered him completely vulnerable if he didn't. His sight was only a little woozy when he let his eyes flutter open again.

Bohan did not close his eyes. Or he tried, but he was too late. Asterix looked at him, kneeled down on the ground, wailing. Blind. Deaf. He had dropped the sword.

Slowly, Asterix picked himself up, approaching Bohan. He then took his sword back into his hand, and tried to ignore the torturous cries.

"I'm so sorry," he grieved, and his blade struck the Mordrem directly in the head, between his eyes. In an instant, Bohan's face became peaceful. Life left his eyes.

No more pain. All was quiet.

Exhausted, he let the sword slip out of his hand after he pulled it out. It dropped into the sand with a dull clatter as the flames went back to sleep. Bohan's body lay slumped nearby.

He wanted to go home. But he didn't deserve it.

Not after this.

He just sat there for a while, broken. He had just done something unforgivable, but knew he had no other choice. He didn't even know the man that long, but he was so sure of it. Bohan couldn't possibly falter to Mordremoth… yet he did. Both he and Liliwen did. He watched it happen.

As his hearing returned to normal, he heard small pained whimpers. Turning to see where it came from, he saw Bobbo trying to rise to his feet, and slumping back down when his strength faltered. "Oh no." He already felt the pain and guilt build up to reach his limits; tears forming behind his eyelids. What if he had to end his suffering too? He anxiously rushed to the bear, trying to gauge his injuries.

"Hey, it's okay," Asterix muttered while he gently stroked the grizzly's bloody matted fur. He couldn't see the wounds underneath his thick coat. Couldn't even part the fur to reveal them in fear that the blood would flow quicker. "It's okay. You're okay. Bobbo, get up…" He tried to push the animal a little so that he would try to stand up again, but the bear simply huffed a miserable moan, after which, Asterix repeated right after him, sobbing.

"You can't die too. I promised…"

Cut off by the sound of rustling, Asterix turned carefully to look behind him. He prayed, please, let them be allies. He saw something he hadn't yet seen before. Not up close.

A giant frog the size of a man, colored blue like the sky, and standing on two long and thin legs, gazed at him with huge bulbous red eyes. It was wearing tribe-like leather clothing, and held a bow and arrow in its strange hands. Perhaps it was weary of him, or perhaps it was an opportunist, about to kill him for food. It broke eye contact with Asterix to look at the scene around it, and seemed like it tried to replay the scene in its head from visual cues alone. Mordrem bodies were strewn all across, golden and crimson blood staining the ground, and there, in the center of the glade, two survivors, cowering and dreading the fact it had found them here. Realizing this, the creature gently lowered itself to a squat to place the bow and arrow on the ground.

Feeling a little hopeful again, Asterix's tensed posture relaxed a tiny bit. His hand shakily slipped as he took a breath.

Finally, the frog-man began to speak a language the Gaul has never heard before. It sounded like a mixture of gibberish, croaking, and odd, throaty noises. Asterix stayed quiet, unsure of what to do. When the frog didn't get an answer back, it tried hard to formulate its words into a language he could understand.

"Do you understand me?" it asked slowly.

"Y—Yes, I do now," Asterix stammered back slightly.

"Do, you, need help?"

"Yes…" It surprised him how quick he was to answer. He didn't even bother to think. He needed help. Bobbo needed help. That was all he cared about now.