"Tell me when you two are ready," Kalyah said with a harsh frown. "I want you to know I disapprove of this, but I’ll still help."

"Noted," Warren said, closing his eyes.

Rosetta's hands rested in his big mits, and he closed his fingers around her small wrapped hands. The healer had just finished mopping the sweat from the Sorceress's brow, providing her with more water to fill in what she lost. Diana could see what was burned away from Rosetta's belly because of the slack wrappings. Not long ago the Sorceress would've quit after that dangerous dip into her own mind. Even a day ago she swore the woman would surrender to the weakness and take a nap. The Paladin's effect on her was great, Diana thought, I hope she knows how proud I am of her. Hopefully she doesn't get lost in there, she hoped as well.

Kalyah etched Sanctuary symbols around the couch Diana and Jonah sat at. Out of them rose a bubble of transparent magic, cutting out what little sound could come in. Straightening out her vestment skirts, the Priestess sat down beside Diana. The Pixie elf shook her head, looking over her shoulder at the pair.

"Risky, far too risky," Kalyah mumbled.

"What happened?" Jonah asked.

"Mental magic," Kalyah said plainly. "It's dangerous to not clear your mind before linking them. Warren has to be an expert at it, but Rosetta clearly isn't." She took a deep breath. "He asked her to build a landscape and a room, but she nearly got lost in her own head. You need a haven to keep your mind separated from another person's thoughts." She shook her head again. "This is why I never went past basic defenses…"

Diana turned to the still confused Jonah. There was indexing going on across his eyes, but his frown said his results weren't to his liking.

"The mind can be a turbulent place," Diana explained. "Warren's diadem, the spiked circlet, is one of the symbols of Psyin. It represents a painful clearing of the mind, a leveling of the mental landscape to build back only what is important. Rose didn't keep hers clear and by the shouting of my sister's name, I suppose that she was haunted by her."

"Is that why you're struggling with the Crown?" he asked, then added, "Sorry…"

"No. It's alright, it's a fair question," she said, setting her hand on his. "No, the Crown is a part of the ether, held in place by my mind's will. I wouldn't struggle in the same way they are struggling now. That is unless I tried to draw memories out of the depths of someone's mind. I couldn't beat Angelina on the ship because her defenses were far too strong. And I was only trying to read her surface thoughts then."

"Even if you can't send, you can defend," Kalyah added, watching the Paladin and Sorceress with an angry look. "What's taking so long? Jonah, should the Witch return, we need to practice your defenses. Diana, you should practice with him, it will be good for both of you. I'm sure you know the Mind of Stone technique, right?"

Diana felt the shadow cross her face. The last time she scanned a mind had been traumatic. She should just tell Jonah, talk it out. Maybe then she could do more with the Cloud school besides a pathetic spawning of a hand.

"We don't have to," Jonah told her.

"We should," Diana said plainly. "Fia was willing to violate your health, she wouldn't hesitate to violate your mind the next time."

Kalyah put her knees up on the couch, staring at the two guardians. "What's going on in there?"

Warren’s mental landscape was a wide open prairie of endless green grass, stretching for countless miles in all directions. Rosetta stepped through the short twiggy shrubs in the bright daylight, feeling the grass stream against her legs. Between the lengths of green were the occasional flowers, little bursts of yellow and purple, but there wasn’t a tree in sight. This had to be his homeland, the Dry and Marsh isles. Compared to the tree filled lands of the Magi kingdom, little of worth grew here, but it was still beautiful. All her bitterness and self hatred seemed to melt away here, she momentarily forgot herself.

Thinking about how happy she was brought the menace back. Rosetta imagined her safe again, holding it against her chest. She had placed all her horrible thoughts inside it once more. All her desire seemed tiny compared to the guilt. She kept walking, imagining more chains around the safe. Soon her feet touched barren ground and she feared that her rotten feelings had managed to corrupt Warren’s landscape.

She stood on the driveway of a great manor. It was made of baby blue walls and white trimming boards. It hadn't been there a moment before, as it cast a heavy shadow on her. There weren't any signs of weathering on it or a speck of dust. Of course the man would imagine something so pristine. The sheer size of it was amazing and the detail of its smooth walls and soft features. She made her way closer to it, finding the air smelled of aged wood and what must have been freshly baked cookies. The front door, lined at the top with a heart shaped window, creaked open for her. Warren stood on the threshold, smiling.

“Come on then, drop off yer things and let’s get to it,” he said.

Rosetta stood on the shaded porch of the manor, looking all around her. She had barely managed a tent and a few trees. How pathetic. She held her safe tighter, thinking that she should just leave now.

“Do yah even need mah help?” she asked, her mental connection growing weaker.

Warren caught her projection by the back, pushing her towards the house. The sensation of his hand was strong, almost like the real thing. Her safe puffed out like the gut of a fat man. Desperately she tried to squeeze the elastic metal back into place. From the crack came a simple statement, “Fuck me, you giant man!”

Heat rose in her real cheeks and Rosetta squirmed in his hold in reality. Warren smiled down at her with a snort.

Another chain secured itself around her safe, cinching up the steel. She was stuck in place herself, unable to move after something like that. She had been very direct before, in the temples she could have whoever, but not now. Those days were long behind her, or so she thought.

“Please, spill something, something equally fuckin’ embarrassin’!” she yelped. “That’s the only way I’ll take another bloody step!”

The Paladin sighed, leaning his shoulder against the trimming of the door. He looked her over in a way that made her feel dirty. The heat flashed again to her cheeks, she loved feeling dirty and worthless, but not the latter all the time like she did now. This felt special, like when he crushed her into a hug. Warren’s dark blue eyes shined. “Yer a cute little thing, I'm flattered… and not against the idea," he admitted with a laugh. Then his face grew serious. “Some other time though…”

“Well aye…” she mumbled, unable to look at him.

“Come on, we need to get to work,” he said, beckoning to her again.

She followed him through the entry hall, past the two rooms off of the entrance. They were an elaborate sitting room and a nicely lit dining room. Straight from the entrance were stairs against one wall. Along the upper wall was a collection of frames without any pictures in them. Rosetta paused by them, looking at the fine casing of them and the blank glass that reflected her projection back at her.

“Some people are better at hiding things,” Warren stated. He caught her by the arm and dragged her up the stairs. She ended up floating after him. They landed in an office of oak paneled walls and a solid dark wood desk. In the corner rested a gun safe, securely shut. He released her and pointed to the space beside his safe. She gently set hers down next to his.

“Imagine it larger next time, more secure,” he said, leading her out of the office.

She watched as he shut the door and locked it.

“Are yah sure mah shit won’t pollute yer head?” she wondered.

“It’s a room within a room,” he said, gesturing to the walls. “I’ve had to hold a lot more graphic shit in my head than yer guilt and lust. Ya feel bad about Luann, I’ve had to hold onto the happy thoughts of murderers. I had to keep that from corrupting me. Yer thoughts aren’t gonna shake my foundations.”

“I am weak…” she whined.

“I’m a trained Paladin of Psyin…” he started to snap, then took a deep breath, speaking softly, “It’s fine to be weak, a weak person can always get stronger. You've been mighty strong before, ya can be that again."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

She smirked. "Thank yah…"

"Ready?"

"Aye."

He held her shoulders. Together they zoomed out of the house, the door slamming and locking on their own. They were out in the open field. “Kalyah is warned, are you sure?”

“Aye,” she said, standing up straighter. She repeated his strengthening statements like mantras. She could get stronger. She could pick herself up again. She could set goals and do better. The chains of the safe rattled in her head, but she had them tucked away in sturdy metal. They were held beside his secrets, and he knew how to keep the dangerous thoughts locked away.

Warren and Rosetta entered the mind of Susan with ease, but instantly faced difficulty. The Paladin wore his full armor, including his open eyed helm and crown of thorns. His coat whipped in the cold night wind and Rosetta struggled to stay airborne in the gale. Faintly they saw lights in the distance, but there were rocking trees and the brambles interlaced between them and the faint glow. The thorny vines were moving out of time to the trees. A crackling filled the air as the brambles tightened across the bark of the trees.

The two of them stood out like drops of pigment in tar. There was no clear source of illumination around them, but they could see each other. Rosetta feared the oddity, finding her burgundy coat washed out and her bound fingers had gone gray.

"Holy shit, I ain't seen a mind this turbulent in years…" Warren shouted, putting his sleeve up to his face. Bits of bark and the occasional twig scraped or broke against his coat.

The Sorceress guarded herself as well, freely spawning a shield of chains in the air. She could see the steel for only a moment before it too was consumed by the shadows. "Why is it like this?" she shouted back.

"Ash Maker minds are openly hostile to magic," he said, drawing his greatsword. He spoke a word of elvish and ran his gauntleted fingers along the etchings of the blade, bringing out a series of sparks. It lit up with a rich golden flame that extended out wildly for a foot around it. Each flicker of the fire fought to stay bright, but the world struggled to turn it to gray.

"One of the many reasons people think they're cursed," he added.

The weapon showed that not only was her shield made dark, but it was being eaten by some insect. "Whatever you make, either leave it or make sure ya can keep it up." He thrust his sword into the spanning web she'd made, causing the tiny winged beasts to sizzle on contact.

Rosetta flung out her limbs, manifesting a ring of fire around her body. Before the black bodied and red eyed flies could touch her, they turned to ash. She saw several up close, illuminated by her fire and his. Their red compound eyes were like ruby orbs and their legs were sharp hooked talons. Their mandibles’ sound was a snake’s rattle, clicking constantly. The hissing of their deaths was a piercing sound. They swarmed her in retaliation, but she quickly dealt with them.

Keeping the fire ring about her, Rosetta spun it around her like a circus performer. Below her was the start of a road and she pointed it out to Warren. He nodded, starting forward with trudging steps and the occasional swing of his sword, which he used with extreme accuracy despite the dim light. The twinned sources of flame made many of the hissing insects ashes, their jeweled eyes shone brightly in the fire light. On the edge of the dark another set of much larger eyes popped up on the outer limit of the light.

“There!” Rosetta shouted, pushing forward a section of her ring into a fireball.

The eight large orbs moved back perfectly, long arachnid legs exposed by the ball of fire. It skittered to the right of Warren and Rosetta called out again its location. The Paladin saw it, catching it between the eyes with a mighty thrust of his greatsword. In the strike, the sizzle of hairy flesh lit up the inky shadows. The burning spider-like body showed that many of its brethren lingered in the darkness.

“Run!” Warren called.

Rosetta zoomed forward as Warren’s boots ate up the earthen trail before them. His sword was resting on his shoulder, the fire not burning its master. Focused only on the flashing of light before them and the skittering legs behind them, Rosetta ran into the first layer of brambles. She was rushing ahead and they tore so strongly on her skin that she felt herself almost jerked out of the dream. She flew backwards so hard her real body took flight and she nearly fell out of Warren’s hands.

“Yer armored, remember?” he said to her, dragging her backwards.

What a fool she had been, not wrapping her face though. She felt gashes across her cheeks, blood dripping across them in reality and the dream. Far off she felt the hands of Kalyah touching her. The Sorceress heard the healer call out for the Goddess to mend her, the sound like a faint echo. Her body was resistant to the ways of the other gods, and Corpine wasn’t a fan of those blessed by the Chained god. It was a blessing and curse to have her own healing factor.

“Stay here, I need ya here,” said Warren, holding onto Rosetta tightly.

Keeping her eyes closed so hard that she felt the pain in her brow, Rosetta looked out onto the dreamscape again. Her fire had fallen and Warren’s flaming sword was the only light around them. The gold flames made the spider eyes clear, they were circling them like wolves on the hunt. Warren was warding them off like his greatsword was a torch, but they both knew that he couldn’t cut them all down. Out of nothing but sheer will, Rosetta screamed and created dozens of shooting chains. From the air they shot like cannons, the ends of them armed with spear points. They plunged home to many of the spiders, right through the eight jeweled eyes. As the gushing insides of the beasts turned into nothing but slimy shadows and their eyes went dark, Warren turned to the moving bramble vines.

Rosetta struggled to stay airborne from the drain of that one attack. In the old days that would be the opening of a grand display of her and her brother’s power. The two of them would continue on for a whole half hour afterwards. She was already starting to get tired now. How pathetic…

“Come on, they keep growing!” Warren yelled, catching her by the arm. He threw her arms around his neck. Sweat mixed with the blood on Rosetta’s face, both in the dream and out. She held onto his neck as he swung his sword through the vines. They snapped like the taut strings of a violin and moved to mend back together like the striking of a biting snake. She fought to hold on as his guarding strikes took him through a variety of stances, throwing her aching legs around his core.

Slice after slash, finally they could see the source of the lights. It was the glass lamps bordering the front door of a giant red bricked building. The dead trees around it were twisted and warped, refusing to fall over. The many arched windows held the ghostly images of moving people within them. As the brambles snapped together again behind them, Warren froze before the tall brick steps of the building. The wind had stopped blowing as if this was the eye of the turbulent storm.

“I don’t think the little lady is this twisted,” Warren said, a note of fear in his voice. “It has to be her Ash Maker nature fighting us…”

One of the figures had stopped within the window. A gray skinned girl not much younger than the owner. Her eyes were black and sunken, staring down at the pair below. A high pitched scream broke through the night, but that little girl’s mouth stayed closed. At the end of the cry the girl vanished.

Rosetta hovered off the back of Warren, looking into the other windows. Within the portals of black she saw little. The figures stopped moving and the glass bloomed into shadows. Another scream tore through the night, then many more. Then all was silence again.

“Wot she saw, wot happened to her,” Rosetta said with a shiver.

“Yer right,” Warren said with a nod. “It’s been a few years since I had to go in the mind of a victim of something like this.” He made his way to the top landing, sheathing his sword. “Come on, no sense delayin'.” When she was beside him again, he twisted the knob and pushed with all his might. The door didn’t open. He looked about. Then an echo came again, him in reality wondering, “How is she doing? Okay?”

“Susan? She’s fine,” came Kalyah’s echoing voice. “Keep calm, Rosetta, your face is trying to heal from whatever cut you.”

“I’m alright,” the Sorceress told Warren.

“Watch my back,” the Paladin nodded at her. He set his hand on the knob and spined branches of golden magic rushed out of his wrist. The lights on either side of the door flickered faster than before. Behind them Rosetta heard the rapid thudding of a heart. The Paladin groaned, the vines twisting about as he supported his magic casting hand.

“Careful!” came Kalyah’s cry. “Her heart rate just spiked.”

Warren paused, the vines moving slower. “She’s young, but the whole ordeal has made her weak,” he whispered. “I just wanna see yer pain, baby, nothing more. Ya could help us if ya just let us in.”

The sound of moving tumblers filled the air. Along with it came a melody of rapid breathing and another of fast heart beats. The three sounds were a sharp harmony of stress, building into a crescendo as everything sped along. Added to it was a chorus of Warren saying, “Come on, come on, come on…”

Rosetta watched on helplessly, then she turned around to a new sound. There were winds closing in on them. The spiral tightening around the building and waving of the dead trees unburdened by the brambles. The dead branches swished through the air, the gale was coming for them. Out there were the spiders, the door lights shining on their glowing red eyes.

“Warren! She can’t take much more! She's gonna wake up if I don't put her under deeper…” came Kalyah’s voice again.

Finally the tumblers clicked and the door creaked. Warren snatched up Rosetta’s arm and dragged her into the doorway. They entered a hallway with debris strewn across the yellowed floor. Many doors went off in both directions from the hall, and hundreds of feet in front of them was a tattered stairway up to the second floor and then the third. A fine mist hung about the floor, disturbed by Warren’s boots.

In the first door was a room full of thin steel bed frames. The Sorceress finally connected the dots on what the building was. An orphanage. Of course the poor little scrappy twins were orphans, she thought. She was torn from her thoughts by the half scraping sound of Warren drawing his sword from its sheath.

The blade was half drawn, half phased out, and she saw why he drew it again. There on the stairs stood a bluish skinned man with slicked back black hair and a pointed beard with a curled mustache. On his full bright red lips sat sharp canines, shining like the many rings on his clawed fingers. Out of his trouser legs came more of the mist, spilling over the stairs in a great waterfall. His broad breasted coat of many gold braids was belted at the waist. From that belt hung a saber encrusted with jewels on the hilt.

“Come out, come out, little Ash Makers, my bats need food,” he said with a thick Tsarinian accent. Rosetta knew by his appearance that he was a Vampire. By the blue tinge of his skin, a very old one indeed. The hall was filled with the sound of bat wings moments before the beady eyed creatures polluted the air around the monster. They were no normal mammals, but spawned by the beast himself. Their teeth were just as sharp and as large as his, dripping drool, hungering for blood. They were much larger as well, their wings spanning as wide as Warren’s sword.

“That’s what’s been causing her so much trouble,” Warren said, holding up his sword in a defensive stance by his face. “So she did see him. She’s lucky to be alive at all.”

“What do we do? That isn’t the real thing in here… Right?” Rosetta wondered.

The Paladin shook his head. “No, but defeating him will bring her some peace though and give us some answers.”