IN WHICH FRIENDS BICKER.

Every single letter of the word had been cut deeply and precisely into the pale flesh, but it was rendered illegible by blood all the same. The wounds had bled profusely, so the letters must've been etched while the heart still beat. Now, the blood was dry, a crackling brown stain across loose and icy skin. The body hung by the left leg, part way up an old beech tree, the branch was covered in the bloody handprints of whoever had dragged him up there and clambered down again.

Keller's hands were clean. Very, very clean. He had scrubbed under the fingernails, washed and dried the sleeves, scraped the top of his boots, snipped one lock of hair.

"He bragged about it to his fellows." he murmured, looking up at the tree, but not at the corpse. "They laughed. They all laughed. I should've killed them all. But we need the swords they carry. To protect us from things like that. Apparently." He spat towards the base of the tree. "Gods be good. I hate this. When it's HIS crawling wretches, I can cut them down by the dozen and work up a sweat. Now I have to be a soft touch with the people that choose, to be monsters."

A little bubble of guilt slipped through my guts. I'd tell him about the weird meeting I'd had with the creation that wished to parley. Soon. It had been such a weird and rushed time, after they'd found me surrounded by eviscerated bodies, I hadn't had the words to bring it up. Bit I would, soon. Really soon.

I waved two fingers at the glowing orb floating behind our heads. It clicked off and settled in my pocket, putting us back in the pre-dawn grey gloom. In the almost dark, the tree was laden with a huge, indistinct fruit. I worked my right hand open and closed, it had been a few days since Zephyr reversed the detaching enchantment, but it still didn't sit with me somehow. Just like this situation - I had known it was going to happen eventually, Keller had spelled out his exact plan to me, and here we were: in the dark, splitting justice down the middle.

"Well... I for one think you did the right thing. No judges of the peace out here. Just us. What will you, do, about the other soldiers?" I said, working through the thought as I went. Keller shook his head.

"I'll have a quiet word with John. He'll set the lot of them to patrol this part of the forest." It was too dark to see his face, but I caught a grimly toothsome grin. "I'll cut it down afterwards, do a proper burial. No need to leave it where a kid might see, and it'd be an absolute pain to get haunted by that dickhead."

"John could exorcise you if that ended up happening, but no scummy fifth-rate soldier is going to leave a ghost."

"Yeah. He sure could exorcise me." I didn't like the sound of that, not one bit. It seemed like Keller was still sour about Johns taking command. "But whatever. Bad to leave a body out in the open this time of year. You get wolves, or a wight, or worse."

I took him by the arm and lead him back towards camp, leaving the unwholesome fruit to swing behind us. "You'll find no argument there from me."

----------------------------------------

We heard the settlement before we saw it. And it really was a settlement now, brute labour with magical assistance had sent crude huts shooting up like lopsided autumn mushrooms clear across the campsite. Plenty of us could still sleep out around campfires, but plenty more desperately needed some kind of shelter against the achingly cold nights. We passed a bashed together fence, sticks in a circle, ostensibly marking the boundary between the wilds and safety. The real border was behind us, deeper in the trees, a line of runic defences that blasted anything that moved through them past sunset. The runes were installed in grand old trees that were dying a little more with every zap, and they hadn't caught much more than scrawny foxes. Still, there had been that one sneaking creation that had been scorched to a cinder, the runes were likely warning off others from trying anything.

The bonfire that had burned hot and bright all through the night had been allowed to ebb, and almost half of the camp was gathered in prayer. Some gods bid their people to solitary meditation, to contemplation of the higher mysteries, to quiet charity. Some gods glutted on mortal blood, a tithe for protection. Some gods were venerated by song and dance, bright lights and leaping laughter.

John was the chosen champion of Her Radiance, the Dawnbringer. She preferred to hear her supplicants beg for their miserable lives.

Grim faces, tight with cold and hunger and fear. The bleeding firelight cast more shadows than light, throwing jawbones and clasped hands into dark relief. Silence, as John spoke, then shouted responses from the masses. Once, these chants has echoed through the vast, stained-glass cathedral in the West Citadel, to remind everyone that the good times would not last the turning of the years, to support each other through hardship and sorrow, to watch for the coming dark.

Now, that cathedral was a pulverised ruin, folded in half by great stone jaws and sucked deep underground in the work of a moment. All that glass, ground up into a glorious rainbow, flesh shredding mess. I wondered if anyone had fled into the cathedral, to escape the falling furnace fireballs and clear sky lightning. I wondered what it would've looked like, from the inside.

John could overhear the prayers sent winging towards Her Radiance, and had felt a million dying breaths as the West Citadel has been ravaged. I could tell he had been worried, that the Radiant faith had been totally destroyed along with the cathedral. Keller would've said something like "disaster is like bullshit, if you plow that into the soil you'll get a bumper crop of belief."

And here was John - reaping.

"You have all heard my words, and I speak only the truth! And I say, unto you! We are doomed but for Her mercy!"

"WE ARE DOOMED."

Hands were clasped, shaking with cold and fervour. The responses were said just shy of shouting, coming out of hundreds of mouths towards the sky in the smooth roar of regular practice.

"Her mercy comes to all of you, each and every one us! But are we grateful?"

"WE ARE GRATEFUL."

"No, no! No we are not grateful! We take Her grace for granted, each and every day!"

"EACH AND EVERY DAY."

"So please! Please! Your Radiance, please have mercy!"

"PLEASE HAVE MERCY."

Keller and I had slipped away at the start of the dawn ceremony, to see the body. They had been chanting since then, and now voices were beginning to shake and break. The gaunt cohesion slipped, individual sobs and desperate begging broke out here and there.

"Have mercy on us sinners in the dark, in the darkness of our own making! In the dark!"

"IN THE DARKNESS. HAVE MERCY ON US SINNERS, IN THE DARK."

"We are in the dark, we ungrateful sinners, and without Her we are doomed to pain, to endless pain! To endless death! But despite our sins, despite our blindness, each and every day, She comes forth! She arises to forgive us! To redeem us! To SAVE us! SHE ARISES! SHE IS HERE!"

A single ray of dawn light cut through the canopy, straight through John's outstretched, beseeching hands. It set the dust motes dancing, slid across dazzled grey faces, touched frozen, doubting hearts with a burst of warmth and faith.

Everyone fell to cheering and hugging, crying with sheer relief, holding each other and praising Her for forgiving them, for Bringing The Dawn once more. The ceremony was over, but John stayed atop the stump he was using. He wasn't exactly a priest, and it wasn't exactly a pulpit, it was just somewhere he could stand so everyone could see him clearly. But if it wasn't exactly a pulpit... it was close enough for me.

Despite the general furore that swirled before us I leaned in close to murmur in Keller's ear. Never could be too careful. His cheek was practically radiating heat in the crisp air. "Couple times, I've seen some something weird with John's eye. You seen that?" Keller nodded once, leaning towards me, one hand on my shoulder.

"I asked Zephyr, it had already been checked out. Remember that blinding curse HE hit John with? Something about that." Of course.

"Right, most spells fade after the caster dies, but hexes linger in a remnant form."

"Some remnant. Looked like his whole eye was rotting in the socket." Keller moved to itch the corner of his eye, but clenched his hand away instead.

"I guess if Zephyr has checked it, then it must be fine. Oh, here comes John." I waved at him as he hopped down off the stump and came sauntering over. He was beaming from ear to ear, a twinkle in both eyes. If his flock hadn't been mingling and parting before him, I had a feeling he would be whistling in a very undignified manner.

"Good morning Susan. Good morning Keller. And what a fine morning it is, I hope you slept well."

The sun was gently rising between the trees, illuminating John from behind and washing the underbellies of the clouds with glorious golds amidst the red sky. The air was fresh, the soft breeze bitterly cold.

"Why, John, it certainly is a fine morning. Your own work, I take it?" said Keller.

"Ha ha, please, I could hardly take credit."

People were streaming about us, some heading to prepare breakfast or draw water from the well Zephyr had dug, others to try and get another hour of sleep before the sun was all the way up. There was one disturbance, something was sending survivors skittering about like frightened birds: Alaxoria, with a brace of ducks in one hand, her axe in the other, and a Look on her face. Those eyes...

"Why, Ala, you've been out hunting early!" exclaimed John.

"No." she replied. "Late." Keller looked from the brace of ducks, to her bloodshot, bloodthirsty eyes, then back to the ducks.

"You mean, you've been out hunting all night?" said John, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ala, that is- very diligent of you. You alright?" While he had been speaking, her head had nodded down very slightly. She jerked it back up, and fixed him with a long stare. And dropped the birds to the ground. "Going to bed." she muttered, stalking off towards the den she had made for herself at the very edge of the settlement. John quickly stooped to collect the ducks, all of them fat, glossy, and good eating. Unless of course, you had to split them amongst hundreds of people. "Please, take these to the cooks," he said, handing them to a gawping man.

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"Out hunting all night... and just that to show for it." I said under my breath. I looked about the swirling mortal masses. "We've cleared the forest out. There's nothing left."

John was counting on his fingers, looking up at the reddened morning sky and figuring his own sums, he had kept the closest eye on the food stocks.

"We have, well, a few days left. We can put people on half rations right now, stretch that out further, but it's not like we are expecting the hunting to suddenly get better if we can just survive a few extra days." Keller shook his head.

"And even if we did, I seriously doubt that would work the way you hope. These people aren't soldiers, you put them on short commons and they'll panic, hoard, fight, and flee. Sometimes even in that order. So-"

"We need to move." finished John. Keller narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, we do need to move. We need to split these people up into two groups, maybe three. Send one south, try and get to the coast, or at least do some hunting further afield. One up-river, like Susan was planning, even if the fields are burned there will still be something for them. And, yeah, three groups, the slowest and weakest will stay here with us, or at least nearby. If we can find a way to get them across the river, Ala can start hunting there instead."

John didn't even shake his head, just put that beaming smile back on. "No."

"No? Pray tell why, John. If we can't keep these people fed here, then we need to get them to better foraging."

"No. If you split my people into three groups, you doom two of those to death. Or worse."

"Your people, John. Your people?"

"Our people, I meant. At any rate, sending hungry people foraging in winter just leaves bellies empties and cookpots dry. We need to send these people home."

"John. The citadel is done. You have to see that. I know it was your home-"

"Is. It is my home. HE couldn't take it away from me, not with all the hellfire under the world! And neither will-"

Zephyr blasted out from beneath the ground sending dirt all over the three of us. Keller reeled back, John had his sword half out.

"You are both insisting on this, this," the wizard conjured three hands just to shake them around in confusion and disarray "this blatant, flagrant, irresponsible, inefficient allocation of resources! There must be a way mortals would say this idiomatically, Susan, do you know?" I flicked a chunk of dirt out of my hair, and shrugged helplessly. John and Keller seemed inclined to go at this until a fight broke out. Trying to intervene would make the fight stretch over long and dreary days, constant snipping instead of coming to blows.

"Well. John, during the village evacuation, your behaviour was consistent with sensible thought processes, but since then you have been wretchedly mismanaging this whole thing." John didn't bother arguing his case. When Zephyr was inclined to rant, the rant was going to happen. "And you Keller, you explicitly planned a cull of elements not compatible with the survival of the remainder, and then- do nothing! It is not predicted. The plans you espouse are all steps in the correct direction, but you remain stationary. To do nothing is a valid path to pick, at times, when either no action is preferable, or required, or while awaiting a specific occurence. But to dither! For no reason! It is- it is unreasonable!"

"I haven't been doing nothing, I've been-" said Keller, then looking around. The campsite was.

Well.

To say people were paying attention would be an understatement. John's voice carried. Zephyr gleamed and pulsated with every word. The whole settlement was holding its breath.

"We should, we should take this elsewhere," said Keller.

"No need." said Zephyr, then spat out twenty seconds of smaller spells. They wove into a dense, pale-black pyramid of swirling air. Suddenly, our breathing seemed loud and rasping, bouncing off the enchanted surface. "Please, continue."

"Well - I've killed one of the soldiers. For a crime I overheard confessed, and deemed, unforgivable." said Keller, holding his voice very even. John nodded three times, eyes closed, and gave Keller a quick clasp on one forearm.

"Yes, social cohesion, very important to maintain under conditions of deep unrest, particularly in large groups as this," replied Zephyr. "Would you do so again."

"Yes. If I needed to."

"Would you do so before such a crime was committed?"

"I-"

"If you knew for sure, for certain, that it was going to be committed."

"...If I knew for sure, for absolutely certain..." Keller seemed almost pained. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know, I'd tried to stop it happening before I killed someone pre-emptively."

Zephyr nodded, accepting the caveat. "Assume that you had tried everything, and your last option was to kill them before it was committed. A, an unforgivable offence, as you call it. Would you take that option?"

Keller just nodded back.

"And what if that crime was: to kill a quarter of these survivors we have been protecting, over the course of winter, and then another quarter before the spring growths begin in earnest, and to scar and weaken the remainder, emotionally and physically. Likely leading to further deaths, potentially the the dissolution of the survivors, and even the complete loss of a self-sustaining population in the long term. This is also likely to drive Alaxoria to her death in the process, given her current state of mind."

"Zephyr, where are you going with this?"

The blue glowing creature didn't answer my question, or wait for Keller's response, just merged every limb into a single faceless blob and rotated. "We do not understand. We do not understand! The stated purpose of your mission, John, Keller, Alaxoria, Susan, was to defeat HIM and protect as many of the mortals of the West Citadel and surrounding lands as possible. We burned that village before they could be captured and weaponised, sacrificing innocents to protect many others. This is understood to be sad, but necessary, and sensible. And now, now! Now we snatch food from healthy individuals to feed almost-corpses that will not survive the year's turning! It is madness!"

"Zephyr, you are out of fucking line." said someone.

Keller, John, and Zephyr all turned towards me.

"You, just, you can't-" I said, realising it was me. "You can't just leave the elderly to starve in the fucking forest! You're talking about culling family members! Innocent people that have done nothing wrong, that have been through the worst thing that has ever happened to any of us, who have cherished their children and-"

"Would you sacrifice yourself to save a child." interrupted Zephyr.

"I, what?"

"Would you sacrifice yourself to save a child. Hypothetically, your own child. Or your grandchild."

"..."

"If you asked any of these people, you specifically, if they would throw themselves on the stabbing blade of a creation, to save their child or grandchild, they would say yes. Not as just some kind of, strange philosophical quandary to thrash about in a den of smoke and books, to pose and postulate endlessly. If they would actually fall upon the knife to spare their own child."

"And, so what, then we tell them to give up eating and go starve to death by themselves in the woods?"

"Of course not. We assess the survivors based on age and versatility and long-term viability, those that are deemed an unnecessary burden will be given the choice to leave or pass peacefully with the full rites befitting a Radiant martyr, and then we-" Zephyr turned to face John. "And then the rest of us will see some more dawns."

"If you do this thing Zephyr, these people will call you a monster, and rightfully so." I said, trying to come to grips with the way they were thinking, to argue on their level. The goal is to protect as many people as possible, so... "They will flee and die in the woods and by the river, feeding nothing but knot-fish and the dirt. Or, they'll try and kill us. Probably both."

"They can try."

"Sure! They can try! And you can hit them in the head with a chained lightning, and, I don't know, maybe a greater cleaving! Oh, I bet they won't be expecting that one, no way, no counterspells prepared today by any of those schmucks!"

"Susan, the goals you say you aim towards do not match the actions you take or the opinions you disagree with. The reliability of our predictions of your thoughts is decreasing."

"Fuck you, Zephyr. You can kill as many of these people as you want. It's not like any of us could stop you."

"That is precisely the opposite of stated short- and long-term goals."

Keller tapped on the side of the black pyramid. "Zephyr, mind turning this off? I think we all need to cool off - get some fresh air." The spell ended the next moment, letting in a cool breeze and the excited yammering of the settlement. Hedda had been standing right next to it, worry etched deep between her eyebrows.

"Susan, what was, going on in there? I went to get some sleep after the sermon, and they said you four were, all fighting?"

"Hedda, I really can't talk about it."

"But, what about? Is everything ok?"

"Hedda! Please. Just-"

John stepped between the two of us, grabbing me firmly by the upper arm, before I could give Hedda a shake. That was what did it. The cold metal of John's gauntlet wrapping around my arm was just like HIS, on that night, on that tower, in that place, I can't go back, the citadel's burning, the library is alight, the castle has been filled with blood, the walls are patrolled by dead men screaming in the air, nobody made it out alive. We all died, some quick, some slow, some rotted in the fire, some starved in the woods, we killed each other. But we were all dead, or near enough it made no difference.

"You have lived through an era that will be forgotten."