“How do you know all this? About, you know, the inquisitors—and everything else,” I asked, suspecting there was more to her acquisition of knowledge than simply knowing or being told by her acquaintances; for the moment earlier when Gwyndolin detected the presence of oncoming visitors still remained fresh in my mind, incessantly occupying my thoughts; which were fueled by burning curiosity as well as a petty sense of pride that I didn’t quite know I possessed.

Although, to say it was the most troubling of concerns on my mind would be wholly wrong, and I understand a large part of my asking this question was to distract my mind from the more daunting worries—the ones which my subconscious worked hard to ignore and let me remain ignorant in the process.

“Oh, uh, better than outright telling you…! Let me introduce you to someone,” Gwyndolin explained with a sudden fervour as if excited for us to meet, but I only felt a looming sense of regret wash over me while I tried not to show that on my face. I hardly wanted to meet another here, for it was very likely that said ‘person’ would be an aberrant; especially so if her words in her and myself being the only humans present were to be believed.

Before being given any more time to brood over what I could not change, Gwyndolin suggested I use the time she was gone to mull over everything and come to a decision. “At your own pace of course,” she added.

It was clear Gwyndolin wanted me to co-operate in some way, having mentioned the shared need to escape this forest. However, she had not been entirely clear on what I would be doing; so it seemed she was merely leaving me to decide whether or not I was willing to work with them at all. That is what I was suggested to think over.

In the end I was left with only the ability to do as she had suggested, with not much else to do otherwise since I lacked access to any other options or ways in which I could pass the time. Resigning myself, I leaned against the wall and sighed.

I had already come to understand Gwyndolin was putting a fair modicum of trust in me, allowing me to stroll into this location behind her without any trouble and being left alone like this. However, she was even going so far as to reveal her secrets and potentially important information by letting me meet one of their aberrants.

The weight of her trust was no small labour to carry and I wanted nothing to do with it frankly, but she seemed keen on our cooperation. Although, on that note I knew not as to how I could possibly contribute; it was a mystery as to where my presence and compliance was necessary or what effect it would have. Perhaps it was purely to keep tabs on me, and were I anyone else other than myself, with relations to Gwynevere and thus indirect relations to Gwyndolin, I may have just been silenced directly instead.

I found myself taking a deep breath and letting out an involuntary sigh as I looked up at the ceiling, patterns and symbols I failed to recognise littered across it; seemingly obscured by both dust and deterioration.

Whether it was the degeneration of the ruins that was responsible for my inability to relate the design on the roof’s surface to another known design or whether the design was simply new and entirely distinguishable was unknown to me; but whilst thinking about it, I quickly realised how I had been once again running through unnecessary distractions in a futile effort at escaping the relevant issues at hand.

After a few more seconds of dull and numbing silence, I decided I could no longer ignore them. I would much rather formulate some semblance of how I wished to approach this than end up being cornered by time and haphazardly rushing into a decision pressured by Gwyndolin’s return along with what other manner of creature would be joining us.

Now that I was finally reconnecting with these emotions, I felt that hollow burning sensation well up in my stomach once again; a primal feeling of slow but long, irritating, and intense rage, the kind of which could never be generated over any small duration.

It had always burned, constant and unwavering, grasping at my very heart; but it was feeble and I had withstood the lingering affliction. However, it would only remain in its feeble and unmatured state so long as it was never spurred on by the necessary fuel, with which it would develop into a truly disastrous flame.

In the deepest depths of my heart, that space is occupied solely by two figures; of equal importance and relevance, both so vitally precious to me. It is they that provided me the strength to persevere and triumph the greatest of difficulties. Yet they were also contained well within the walls enclosing my heart, protecting what makes me whole, and in the event they were to betray me, I would be nothing more than a frail child so easy to violate and ravage.

Memories of my mother are few and far between, for it is not often the younger years can be recalled upon. But where they may lack in quantity, no doubt are they made up in quality; for the cherished memories continue to shine like gold in my heart even after the long decade in which we have been separated.

I know that if it were not for her courage and bravery, and her long period of self-sacrifice until we found sanctuary in the village, then I would have died long ago in the barren, harsh confines of the Fraylands. My mother… she was a sweet soul… and was undeserving of such a cruel and sudden death. If karmic retribution did exist, then my one hope was that she is given the best in her next life. For I know she deserves it.

At the continued thoughts of her, my legs grew wobbly and gradually weakened before I sought the solidarity of the wall behind me, using it to support myself to no avail as I slid down its surface and entered a crouching position. In my dead and unkindled eyes, I felt tears beginning to well up and I hurriedly sought to push them back. Now was not the time to cry.

I looked up at the ceiling once again, not caring anymore if it was a purposeful attempt at distracting myself. Gwynevere was the next immediate visage to appear in my mind, the image of her gentle smile and warm presence fresh as if newly made. A feeling of calm briefly washed over me, but it did not last long; for I started to shake and breathe heavier as emotions overwhelmed me in that instant.

Gwyndolin—Gwynevere’s sister. They were near enough identical, to which I wondered if they were twins even. To look at the possibility they were not related at this point would only be deceit. I needed not any more confirmation on that front.

The concern now was the present situation, in which it had become evident that Gwyndolin was allied with the aberrants—the same aberrant army which had mercilessly slaughtered my village and murdered my mother.

Gwynevere, did she know? Was she involved? From the very start, from the very beginning was she involved in this? Anger welled up inside me from an unknown source and before long I found myself grasping at the knife hidden in my coat.

Littering my hand and upper arm were the unholy phantoms tempting me towards vengeance. Gwynevere’s face never left my mind and a new sensation built up in my eye; not one that warned of imminent tears, but one that simply ached.

My eyes ached so bad and I clutched at them frantically, letting out a low groan that felt more like a growl. I shut my eyes and squeezed them tight, hoping and near-outright begging that the pain would disperse.

I opened my eyes a few seconds later, and when I did I was met with an unexpected but nostalgia-inducing acquaintance; or perhaps I should say acquaintances. They clung to me, mostly to the feathers on my coat and the cloth of my robe underneath it—the small imp-like creatures I briefly interacted with before, their skin just as pallid and transparent, and their eyes hollowed out still with their tiny little bulbous heads.

Their outer appearance was just as freakishly other-worldly as I remembered. But their presence seemed to mollify my intensifying emotions and bring some semblance of peace to my mind, if not for a brief moment.

I hadn’t been sure if I would meet this strange new form of the villagers’ spirits again, but in their ugly visages I found an odd glee and comfort that caused me to involuntarily smile. Their feelings were more pure and clear than the dread-inducing form of malevolency they had taken in the years prior.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Indecision still plagued me, and that was clear because both forms still held firm in their existence, yet I felt a little more resolute in my own ability to choose for myself which path I would walk upon. I took a deep breath, looking up one final time with just a short glance before looking back down.

Nothing remained on my person and I was the only one present in the room. I stood up and looked over towards the large crack in the wall Gwyndolin had left through some time ago. I almost walked over there myself until I saw shadows cast themselves upon the floor and walls, followed closely by Gwyndolin entering along with someone else behind her.

Time seemed to freeze in that moment; yet I did not avert my eyes or seek refuge in unacknowledgment. No great time passed before Gwyndolin and I met each other’s lines of sight. We reciprocated stares for a moment before Gwyndolin turned away as the corners of her mouth raised ever so slightly, seemingly satisfied by something that I did not care to analyse too extensively.

Once Gwyndolin entered, her gaze no longer directed at me, I moved my focus over towards her rear; which is where I watched as a figure slowly emerged from the wall that was obscuring it.

Just like the aberrant soldiers I had witnessed so far, this one looked humanoid mostly; and if not for my own unique vision I may have mistaken it for a human altogether. The uncertainty and uncanniness in the deceitful visage, not entirely monstrous nor human, just like the cold attitude the two escorts had treated me with, felt much more unsettling than if a hulking animalistic frame had walked in instead. The true form of the aberrant was revealed the longer I observed it.

“Julia, meet Evelynn. Evelynn, meet Julia…!” Gwyndolin’s playful tone was just as unwelcome as it usually was, and like that I was forced to meet and exchange names with the one named ‘Evelynn’. She, as I supposed its gender to be—that is, if aberrants even had a concept of gender beyond sex—wore a cloak that concealed the majority of her frame, the only segment of her body fully exposed being the head.

However, the head alone left much to be digested. Her facial features looked human but minimised, showing a compact and recessive nose with small holes for nostrils accompanied by a likewise unusually small mouth; said mouth was only just big enough to not seem too unnatural compared to the size of her face as a whole.

As for the eyes, she seemed to completely lack any, only leaving a creased patch of skin where her eyes otherwise would be. But the most glaring feature had to be her ears, of which were very much akin to that of a bat; being two large appendages protruding from the top of her head, both pointy and sitting multiple inches above her scalp.

Hair follicles covered the exterior skin of the ears, blending into the rest of her darkened hair; which fell below her shoulders into her cloak and beyond. In that regard, she more resembled that of a human.

“Hello, it is a pleasure to meet you.” To my surprise, not only did she speak Christeyeran but she also spoke with an eerily polite tone. It contrasted greatly compared to Gwyndolin's, like how her and Gwynevere’s speech mannerisms differed considerably.

“I am Evelynn, acting advisor and lead scout for this operation.”

As she introduced herself formally, Evelynn curtsied and lowered her head slightly. That was strange in itself, but what took my attention in that moment was the beginnings of movement in her cloak; which seemed to move impossibly on its own before splitting into two and spreading out.

Her ‘cloak’, which I had failed to immediately recognise as anything else, opened up and revealed itself to be a pair of large bat wings spanning her entire height except for that which was above the neck-line.

Encounters with aberrants were sparse and infrequent in Christeyeres’ territory, as they are expected to be, and so the sight bewildered me in my own inexperience when meeting such an organism; even more so when I had a much greater insight on the spiritual constitution of the flesh and below it thanks to my special sight. Taking a deep breath, I attempted to reciprocate her greeting. “Julia… is my name, as Gwyndolin just said. I am a wandering traveller and an old friend of Gwynevere.”

“Old friend? So distant sounding… Is this teenage angst…?” My attempts at having a respectful opening to what I assumed would be a very laboursome conversation were quickly torn apart by Gwyndolin once again. Frustration flashed through my eyes, luckily hidden by the blindfold, and I held back the temptation to raise my voice or act impolitely.

Evelynn held a wing up towards her mouth and a faint sense of quaking was visible from her shoulders, so at the very least this one seemed amused at Gwyndolin’s odd quirks and sensibilities.

I supposed that someone kept so close by her side perhaps would be influenced somewhat, or at least would need to find her personality tolerable; which I found impressive to an extent, knowing I would not be capable of the same. “Commander, there are serious matters to discuss. It is not the time for jokes,” she said, once her shoulders were done quaking that is.

“Commander? You are, Gwyndolin?,” I couldn’t hold myself back from asking in a bewildered tone.

“She is. The Commander is quite capable, contrary to initial expectations,” Evelynn responded.

“Contrary? Is that the impression I give?” Gwyndolin was genuinely shocked, evidently lacking self-awareness.

Evelynn turned to face Gwyndolin as if to cheer her up, “I find you quite formidable—but alas, not everyone is me.”

“Hmm, you reap what you sow I s’pose…” Gwyndolin nodded along, becoming evidently unbothered at a terrifying rate. The speed at which she recovered was amazing in a way. It was almost unnerving how little she seemed to care about this supposedly sudden revelation.

“Anyway, Evelynn here is my informant. She gets me all the information I need to know, and largely tells me what to do with it. Big problem now is mostly what I’ve told you. Sizeable Christeyeran forces have appeared at our doorstep and we want nothing to do with them. They don’t know what we’re doing here—though it’s pretty obvious they know we’re here—and we don’t want them to find out.

Gwyndolin sighed regretfully, “A clash with the regular soldiers on top of the inquisitors is the last thing we want, because frankly we’re not equipped for it. You’re in the same situation as far as I believe. They’re looking for you and they aren’t going to be nice about it when they bring you in. Though I have a feeling you don’t care about being treated rough, you just have somewhere you need to be and can’t spare the time getting arrested and questioned.”

In the gap of Gwyndolin’s speech, Evelynn continued, “We need to create a distraction somehow, one that is sufficient enough to allow our forces to retreat without being chased down. From what I’ve heard about you, the commander and I concluded that you would be capable of creating that distraction, and your help would be no small favour. You do not have to help—we can find another way—but this plan is the least likely to result in casualties, and you would be able to escape without concern for getting caught as well.”

I had long been wondering in what way I would be able to assist in escaping from the soldiers, yet I was uncertain I could do as they said or if I even desired to play such a role. “I just want to reach Cherepakha, that’s all,” I responded with a sigh.

I agreed with them to an extent, but stubborn doubts filled my mind and I felt reticent; but I was unable to express my doubts or put them into words. Something beyond logic made me want to refuse without even considering it.

I had always yearned to be treated as an adult—and with excessive introspection I viewed myself as being mature for my age, hardened by harsh experience—yet my troubled childishness was clearer than the cloudless sky. Every child wishes to be treated like an adult. I was no different.