Historians and lore-seekers would have many questions to ask about the motives of Master Logarius of the Executioners. Knowledge of the Healing Church's secret practices, their ultimate goals, and the truths behind the public face of blood healing would raise all kinds of questions as to the real reasons for their hatred of the Vilebloods of Cainhurst. The concept of spiritual or physical impurity seemed laughable to someone who understood the kind of experiments the Church performed, the blasphemies they indulged in their search for evolution beyond human limitations. Yet the practices of the Vilebloods, their decadent society, their hunts for Blood Dregs and craving for Queen Annalise's own tainted blood, spoke no better of them than did the insults of the Healing Church's propagandists.

Some people even let their gazes linger too long on portraits in Cainhurst Castle's dining hall, thought on the visages of certain beings who still walked the tomb-labyrinths of Pthumeru, and asked questions about family resemblances and blood-relations. Many dismissed these questions as madness, but those steeped in the arcana of the Great Ones knew well that sometimes it was a maddened brain that provided the keenest insights, and they wondered.

What no one doubted was the sincerity of Logarius in following those motives. Not content to merely slay the residents of Cainhurst and seal up the immortal Queen, he had remained atop the castle roof so that when Annalise's power managed to venture beyond the sealing mask and the bounded rift of time itself to bring rescuers to her side, they would have to face his sword and scythe. The martyr's body had withered to a hollow shell, yet there he stayed, eternally vigilant.

And eternally effective, Balyn thought glumly as he pulled himself up the last rungs of the final ladder. Snow swirled around him, crunching under his boots as he fought for footing on the slanted slates. Once, he'd slipped right off and fallen all the way to the courtyard below, an embarrassing end for the hunter, but he'd gotten plenty of practice and now was nearly as sure-footed as he was on flat ground.

Logarius, after all, had been sure to give him that extra practice.

Whether it was exploding skulls formed of dark, arcane energy, swirling swords raining down from above, or the simple, brutal efficiency of a scythe-blade buried in his body, Balyn had met his grisly end nearly two dozen times at the martyr's hands. But he wasn't going to quit now. After all, he'd been embarrassed nearly as badly by much unworthier foes!

…Possibly I should rephrase that when I tell this story to the Doll later.

The Hunter shrugged, tightened his grip on his saw cleaver, and jogged for the archway that led to Logarius's throne-like seat (which Balyn had no issue with; if a man was going to wait in one spot for decades or centuries or however long it had been, he deserved a nice chair). He burst through the fog as Logarius was shuffling back towards that seat, only to turn at Balyn's entrance.

For the barest instant, there was something like puzzlement on the mummified features. In the next moment, though, Logarius was whipping his scythe in a cutting arc that sent a spread of arcane skulls flying at the charging hunter. Balyn tried to drop and roll under them, but was caught off-guard by the sudden attack and mistimed his evasion, leaving him completely at Logarius's mercy.

As might be expected from a man who felt strongly enough about not letting people past that he sat out on a roof so long that he decayed into a zombie, he didn't have any.

~X X X~

"Welcome home, good hunter?"

"Um, is something on my face?" Balyn asked. "Wait, you guys didn't go and get somebody else to do this because I'm taking so long, did you?"

"I don't think that can happen," the Doll said. Balyn decided not to think too hard about the hint of disappointment in her tone.

"It's just that you seemed kind of surprised to see me."

"Ah. That is because it does not seem like it has been very long since you last left. Now, time can pass strangely in a dream when compared to the waking world, but it does seem that it is sooner than I expected."

"That Logarius guy seems to have some problems understanding who's supposed to die when somebody's a martyr," Balyn grumbled.

"Usually, though, when you start having these…problems…successive attempts take longer for you to come back."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause I start learning stuff and last longer. But nah, that's not it. Logarius is up on the top of this huge, frozen castle, and I used to get lost on the way back to him. Hey, that must be why he looked so surprised the last time, too. He didn't realize that now I know the path back through Castle Cainhurst cold!"