I stand near a lone, unassuming tombstone, weeping. Only a few know of the importance of the one buried inside.

“A life of a human, even if a sorceress, lasts only that long if one is unwilling to open her mind towards ways of necromancy…”

It was always a bone of contention between us. Sometimes, I wondered, whether my self-imposed exile wasn’t only an attempt to run away from this moment? To lessen the pain to come? Would I have found the resolve for my penance if there was a chance for us to be together?

“Yet, you have fulfilled your dream. I have travelled through the Realms and I can assure you that they are almost like before…”

Without the Overlord, what remained of her dominion when the civil war subsided split again into small nations. A dream of those who had never remembered those times.

Was it really worth it?

“Clerics’ prayers are now answered by the Gods once more; before, it was something recounted only in the eldest legends of my people…”

I highly doubt it’s a consequence of our actions, but it is one of the changes that affected distant lands of elves the most.

Maybe a more definite divine guidance would change this world for better? Maybe their meddling into the affairs of the mortals stops ours? Now, the possibilities and dangers of truly researching other planes of existence lie closer than ever…

“The Realms of Mortals managed to establish diplomatic channels with our countries. With each cycle grows the number of our youths who wish to experience the ways of life of humans. To meet our wild kin native to their continent, so different from us after grand cycles of isolation…”

The Realms of Mortals. Was it even the proper term now, when the deities returned?

“No oppressing tyranny anymore. No knowledge forbidden.”

Even if some was destroyed, deemed too dangerous to remember. However, the elven ways of utilising magic are now entwined too much for human spellcasters to simply abandon them.

How would their recklessness serve to progress the magic? Only time will tell.

“Now, the Realms have new myths. A history of an evil Overlord. A fable of a just ruler, whose kingdom collapsed. A legend of great heroes who fought a tyrant and emerged victorious. Of power-hungry wizards, betraying their suzerain, levelling all she had built, leaving the world shattered. All fairy tales to scare children.”

Which was true? Which is now? Does it even matter anymore?

“Whichever deity took you, I hope you are content watching this world. It was your dream which shaped it for cycles to come…”

- Ion’s dream journal

“Why are you still opposing us, girl? Your struggles are vain,” the annoying voice calling in Reria’s mind grew only bolder since she’d been forced to hide within the protective spell Ion sustained around them.

It can’t be real. How were the cultists able to conjure a being so powerful, its energy so vast that it was blinding her eldritch sight? Why Ashara hadn’t warned her?

“You should be fighting alongside us, not against. It’s your last chance. Run a knife through the heart of the wizard standing next to you. Kill the girl attacking the priest. You will be forgiven… and welcomed.”

Reria looked around, seeing the entity that possessed Josh easily holding back its opponents. It was barely wounded, if at all.

She should have only searched for a kid Ashara was interested in. Not trying to earn more favours by first destroying the cult set up by her opponent.

The girl felt a tinge of hope when she noticed that Friedrich, after using so much mana on the summoning and the recent spellfight, was currently struggling against Sae’s attacks and Ion’s spells. The voice that has been talking to Reria must have seen this as a threat too.

Friedrich began to call for help in panic. Maybe they still had chances?

“You’ve made your decision,” when Reria heard the voice again, this time she noticed that not far from the priest, near the wall stood one more person, wearing robes similar to his acolytes. With long hair flowing like on the wind, a face contorted in a mild annoyance and her arms crossed, the woman looked out of place.

Her gaze, like two holes to the abyss, was affixed on Reria, “so enjoy your death, worm.”

The eye contact was broken and the woman disappeared as Thaleus flew before Reria's eyes, hitting the wall, and lying there unmoving. Within seconds Josh killed Niklas, and moved towards her and Ion, casually shrugging off attacks directed against him.

Once more she returned to her home, only to find her family’s mutilated corpses.

When the figure left the wicked flames Ion had conjured, her mind gone blank.

Reria shrieked in horror as the thrown spear pierced Ion, pinning him to the wall not far from Thaleus.

Staring like a frightened animal, she prayed that Josh passes her, not noticing. The worst memories of being at the mercy of murderers of her family returned to her.

“Ashara, save us.”

****

“Why isn’t this working?” Friedrich cursed. “Sudomeas, grant me the strength to finish thy enemies!”

Sae only smiled when the man began another incantation. The incantation that, as memories from before – however hazy they were – screamed, she used to fear. Of the magic spellcasters used to make their enemies into prisoners inside their own bodies. Hold Person, as Ion called the spell.

Seven years ago, Sae would have struggled. Her will, her control over mana within her body squaring against the foreign spell invading her. Now, however, she could ignore it. She felt the spell passing through her, searching for parts it could affect and block. And then dispersing, unable to grasp anything its pattern recognised.

She continued her assault. Just before her shortswords hit the barrier protecting the priest, she focused, channelling energies of her psyche to sharpen the blades. A short, high-pitched screech followed, as she failed to mask the effect of the manifestation. It was quickly covered by a loud crack as one of the defensive shields collapsed under the assault of the now faintly glowing blades.

The Council always emphasized the importance of remaining hidden. But between risking being revealed and dying, the choice was obvious. Even if the former was often quickly followed by the latter if one wasn’t quick to cover his traces afterwards. If the humans had learned about them, they would have hunted them. Out of fear. Out of jealousy. Something she could completely understand. After all, as far as she had remembered, it was her jealousy and curiosity that had driven her search of them.

And the current situation could easily turn ugly. The possessed kid was much stronger than anything she expected them to find here. With Ion’s support, they should be now able to finish the priest in the next few seconds. Afterwards, they would try dealing with the biggest threat… or slowing him down and run.

Sae saw Friedrich releasing a group of fiery rays at her and immediately moved out of their trajectory. A fraction of second later the man did as she has foreseen. Extending her awareness to gain a tiny glimpse of the future was taxing, even more since she began to also channel energy to her swords, yet the advantage it gave in a fight was immense.

She whirled, one of her swords penetrating the barrier, another reaching the man, scoring a glancing blow before he managed to sidestep. Pushing forward, she managed to shallowly cut his chest, hopefully piercing a chainmail the man wore under his robe, before rolling sideways as she predicted him to evoke a small shockwave in front of himself.

“By the abyss, why must you laze now, Ion?” she noticed Thaleus sprawled near the wall; hopefully the stubborn dwarf would get up soon. Ion must have decided to help against Josh again.

Sae attacked again, yet the priest had enough time to refocus his barrier. Seeing the shallow wounds she inflicted so far, the girl cursed herself for not having any poison on the blades. Yet the alchemical silver they have used to cover their weapons had an unfortunate effect of neutralising most of the magical ones – not that she had any at hands – and most of the regular ones was far better suited to poison food than blades.

Maybe they should have tried to poison supplies of the cultists? How well would have that worked?

“Semora, don’t just stand here, help me!” she followed the gaze of a panicked priest as he desperately struggled to stop her attacks with magic.

The acolyte who stood there snorted.

“You ignored my advice. Surely you manage to follow your own plan now.”

The woman was strange. Even now, seeing her, Sae was completely unable to feel her presence. Not to mention she completely eluded all her senses up until now.

Warily looking at the acolyte, the rogue continued to push the cleric back. She was surprised to see him drawing a sword that up until now only rested in his scabbard. More of an ornate weapon than a real one. The man must have grown desperate after she pierced through his protective spell once again.

Yet, looking at his measured stance and a sure grip on the weapon, she grew cautious. After all, ridiculously ornamented weapons sometimes turned out to be magical ones.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Sae feinted an attack, then doubled back as she heard panicked shouts growing louder coming from the entrance to the hall. She turned just in time to become momentarily blinded by the short explosion of blue flames converging over Josh. She had a sudden bad premonition when his slightly battered figure emerged from them. She released her hold over the energies she channelled to her swords and thrust with her mind, but the being remained unaffected by her desperate mental attack. She could only watch as Josh’s spear pierced Ion, unable to do anything to help.

“Sudomeas is with us!” Friedrich exclaimed, charging at her with renewed, fanatical zeal in his eyes.

The man assaulted her like a berserker, his movements incomparable to the sluggish movements of the spellcaster just a few moments ago. She forced discipline on her mind, not allowing the unwanted thoughts to distract her. She had to fully commit her awareness to her opponent, to let her see his attacks before he made them to successfully counter him.

After her shock subsided, she managed to find openings in Friedrich's stance. A few times her swords barely missed one of the vital areas unprotected by the priest’s chainmail.

Suddenly, despite a tumult caused by ongoing fights, a silent, raspy voice was clearly audible. Sae shuddered when the word Ion spoken reached her ears. Even if it wasn’t addressed to her, the sheer amount of power filling every syllable made her feel tiny and fragile. She expected the voice to bear malice, to herald the destruction so much mana would bring to the world. But there was none of it. Only a calm, uncaring finality of the statement.

The moment passed.

And Josh’s body simply fell. Somehow, Sae knew he would never stand up again.

She expected the magic to turn him to stone, burn him in flames, grind to dust and scatter on the wind. To cause the fiend possessing the boy to scream in pain, in anger, or both. To do something palpable, something that could explain what had just transpired. But none of this happened. It only made the experience more terrifying and unreal.

“No. Impossible,” Friedrich stuttered in shock. Sae used a moment of his distraction to run him with the blade.

“Sudomeas, why have you forsaken me?” the priest called, as if still oblivious to his mortal wound.

Sae slit his throat with the other blade and charged against the acolyte who still watched the unfolding fights, disbelief clearly written on her face. Her silhouette started to fade.

“Lord Sudomeas won’t forget this interference,” she said, forcing a grin onto her face.

Sae stuck with the blade, only for her weapon to pass through her not finding any resistance. The acolyte laughed until her illusion completely unravelled.

Had she run or just waited for an opportunity to strike? She decided it wasn't the latter; she could have used far better opportunities earlier.

Sae looked around.

The hall was a mess, blood and gore sprawled everywhere. With Friedrich and Josh dead, most of the remaining cultists fled. Some tried to surrender, yet not all soldiers seemed eager to accept after all that happened.

Petra sobbed over Niklas’ body, while Dorian and Ciros were checking over Ion and Thaleus. The five remaining guards and militiamen tied a few cultists that were still alive and kept watch over them. Especially over the four unconscious apprentices, still lying around the ritual circle.

Sae went towards her friends. On her way, she took a glance at Josh’s corpse. His leather armour was battered, yet she couldn’t spot any wound on his body. She would have thought the boy to be sleeping if not for the absence of the pulse. Once again a feeling of wrongness at the whole situation emerged within her. She shook her head standing up.

“How are you?”

“The last time I felt so bad was when the corridor we’ve been digging collapsed,” she smiled hearing the dwarf’s response.

“Don’t speak, one of your ribs must have punctured your lung,” Ciros chided him. “I’ll need some time to properly treat it.”

Her smile immediately disappeared when she saw Ion. He was unconscious and still pinned to the wall by the spear. She could barely recognise him. His face became sunken as if he hasn’t eaten for months, skin so pale and thin that every vein was clearly visible.

Reria was pressing scraps of cloths drenched with healing potions around the wound in his abdomen to stop the bleeding while Dorian was focused on chanting spells.

“Wouldn’t it help to remove the spear before healing him?”

“I doubt he’d survived this,” Dorian said in between his spells. “We have to wait with removing it until his body gathers enough energy to help with the following healing,” he furrowed brows. “I’ve seen wizards who overchannelled before, but never to such degree.”

“We should take him to the village herbalist. She must have stockpiled herbs that could aid him in getting better faster,” Ciros said.

Sae reached for Ion’s spatial bag and quickly rummaged through its contents. She briefly considered trying to use the energy stored within her crystal pendant to heal him but was unsure how it would have worked on someone not of her kind. Finally, she managed to find alchemical ointments Ion had produced while they stayed with Silverfords.

“It won’t hurt to also try those,” Dorian nodded as she began preparing more dressings for the wound.

“The spell Ion used, what was that?”

“He only said something, I don’t think it was even a real incantation,” Reria said unbelievingly. “And just like this, something we weren’t able to even scratch died.”

“He should have used the spell before the spear pierced him.”

“You can’t be serious, Thaleus. Casting it almost killed him. And judging by the way he looks, still might. Burning through one’s mana reserves like that is even more dangerous than just being impaled,” Dorian said. “He must have thought he’s going to die anyway.”

“Speaking of dying, do you have any more of those gems you used after the attack on the caravan?” Sae whispered to the paladin.

“They immediately collected them once we finished. Not that revive is fail proof spell and always works.”

“Still, we should consider buying some just in case.”

“Are you going to rob a merchant guild to pay for them?”

“Who knows? Yet I believe that now we might have enough coins,” her gaze moved between the spear piercing Ion and the ornate sword Friedrich had used. “Or if we’re really lucky one of the gems adorning the sword would suffice.”

“Are you really considering selling that spear?” Ciros exclaimed

“Of course,” Sae and Thaleus immediately answered.

“It’s a fiendish creation! It might be cursed! And I told you not to speak for now!”

“All the better, there are many collectors willing to pay more because of that! We have to take it with us to the village,” she pointed at Ion. “Surely, you wouldn’t leave a cursed object in the town full of innocent farmers.”

After they stabilised Ion enough for Dorian to allow them to move him, they used a broken door as a stretcher for the wizard. They did similarly for the four corpses of their fallen and ordered the captives to carry them. Thaleus, feeling better already, scratched a few runes on the wood, to make carrying everything lighter.

“We’re doing this to reduce the weight of ores in our mines.”

They quickly checked the room, but except for a small coin pouch Friedrich carried they didn’t found anything worth mentioning. They gave it to Petra to be split between soldiers and militiamen; after all, they already claimed the sword and spear. Sae supposed there were more treasures to be found somewhere in the fort, yet even if not counting Ion’s wounds, they were too battered to risk exploring further.

On the outside of the building, they found oxen and a cart the cultists used to transport the materials from the town. They loaded it with the wounded and fallen; also those they left before entering the building and headed back to the village.

On the way, one of the previously unconscious apprentices tried to cast a spell, only to be immediately executed by Petra. Her vindictive stare directed at the cultists convinced the others to not try anything stupid.

By the time they have returned it was already dawning. The villagers warily greeted the returning group, even more so when they have learned that eight out of fifteen militiamen who joined them died fighting, and most of those who stayed alive returned heavily wounded.

No one was openly hostile to them. After Petra showed the townsfolk corpses of a few mutated cultists they had slain, they even received some skittish thanks.

Over the next day, rumours about the fight spread around, drunken militiamen and soldiers most likely culprits. Along with a single dwarf.

Soon it becomes widely believed that cultists were far more numerous, with legions of summoned fiends at their command. Only heroic deeds of the militiamen who assisted in the fight stopped the invasion. In the villagers’ eyes, Ion’s condition became the effect of the curse one of the stronger fiends cast on the wizard as he slain him.

By the end of the first day of the treatment, the village herbalist was forced to remove the spear lodged within Ion’s wound because of the spreading infection and high fever her patient had developed. Extensive use of healing spells cast by Dorian followed the process, and they managed to close the wound. Yet it still took two more days until Ion woke up.

***

“No Sae, we’ve already discussed that; we’re not returning to that fort.”

“Just to check where they hid their gold; they must have had more coins…”

“Which the cultists who fled surely already took. Don’t forget the other fiend. You said yourself she also must have fled. If its anything like the one possessing that boy, it’s too dangerous to risk fighting it.”

“But we’re stuck in this village with nothing to do!”

“The fort aside, what are we going to do with the soldiers? Petra told me that yesterday she received an information from House Faranger. They dispatched troops here. They should arrive the day after tomorrow.”

“Perfect! Did she mentioned something about them rewarding us for protecting the village?”

“You know what he meant. With what had happened in Leisha, wouldn’t it be wiser to leave before they arrive?"

“Why? We are heroes there! Half of the village girls try to hook up with our two elven errant knights! Reria's fine too; she has a huge group of admirers... They are all shattered by the fact she seems to actually prefer sitting around with children. To think you like them younger, huh?”

“It’s not like this. They are simply less bothersome.”

“Surely.”

“It’s not like they aren’t after you, Sae. I bet they consider it safer to try asking you out than me."

"Well, you've burned a few houses the first day we've arrived, it might have something to do with that."

"Speaking of witch... Sae, do you remember Tim, the guy who sparred with you yesterday? He promised me a keg of ale if I ask you-”

“Of course he did. Well, I'm afraid you would have to manage with beers bought for you by other villagers. Anyway, considering Ion’s condition, disappearing now would be far more suspicious.”

“Actually, I agree. Even if they don’t pay us above what we’ve already received from the villagers, as a mercenary, having recognition from one of the noble houses might be useful in the future.”

The voices of people seemed to drift in and out of Ion’s focus as he tried to understand what they were talking about. After titanic efforts, he managed to open his eyes. The room was filled with light and smelled with numerous herbs.

“Ion, are you up yet?”

He tried to answer, yet was too tired and fell asleep again.

***

The room was dark when he woke up again. Not far from him, seated near a lamp which cast a dim light, slept Dorian.

Ion forced his hand to touch the part of his abdomen which has been pierced by the spear. He mentally sighed in relief feeling the wound was gone.

Never in his life, he felt so tired. Just willing his arms to move exhausted him.

He called Dorian yet the only sound his dried throat produced was faint wheezing. It only caused the paladin to stir slightly through his sleep.

Ion looked around, noticing a wooden cap near his bed. Gesturing towards it, he focused mana and levitated it to his hand. It’s been a while since casting a Mage Hand felt so complicated. Ultimately, he succeded and would be able to sate his thirst. He greedily downed the water and called Dorian again. And again. But nothing happened.

With panic, he realised that he’s unable to produce any sound.

“Ion, are you alright?”

The concerned paladin approached him; his thrashing must have awoken him.

“Do you hear me?”

Ion took some deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. He had an idea, but someone must have taken his arcane focus. Fortunately, parts of his bedding were made of fleece. They should suffice as a material component. He grabbed them in one hand and gestured with another, casting another cantrip, Minor Illusion.

“I can’t speak.”

“What?”

“I can’t speak,” he projected sound again. “I’m using a spell. Where’s my arcane focus?”

Ion felt dizzy again.

“Don’t cast! You heavily overchannelled when you used the last spell against the cultists. You must rest.”

Ah. The fight. This spell. His exhaustion. It actually made sense. Or didn't. Just thinking about the word he had spoken caused him to feel pain as if someone tried to cave his brain with a knife. He had no idea how he managed to cast it. And even less how he survived.

“As for the focus.. this pendant of yours?” Ion nodded. “Don’t worry, Sae took it, along with your spatial bag.”

The bag! Without him sustaining the core, the damage to it might be irreversible!

“How long was I out?” he casted again.

“By the morning it will be the fourth day. Don’t use spells anymore for now. I will try to heal your voice”.

It could have been worse. He expected a few weeks or months. Despite this, he would need to take care of the item as soon as possible. Some damage was probably already done.

Dorian held his hands above Ion’s neck and whispered a short chant. He felt a warmth spreading over his throat. Afterwards, he tried to say something, but without any effect again.

Furrowing his brows, Dorian started anew, this time his chant somewhat longer and more elaborate.

“How about now?”

After a try Ion shook his head.

The paladin chanted again, this time his prayer lasting for a few minutes before he released the spell. Still no effect.

“This was a healing spell of a third circle. The highest I’m able to cast. We’d have to look for a priest to help you.”

Ion wanted to scream. It’s not like 4th circle clerics trained in healing magic were readily available for everyone wanting to be healed. And he had a sinking feeling that 4th circle spell might not be enough.