Nocturne emerged from a cloud bank, its massive wings flapping lazily in the warm air. Nidalee and Malachi sat atop of the griffin, looking down on the landscape as the creature circled over the vast desert.

"Do you see anything?" Nidalee asked, shielding her eyes from the sun as she gazed down on the endless sands.

"I'm not sure," Malachi said, the oracle glass over his left eye flashed white as he spoke. "There's a trail of dead blight fiends, leading north."

"A trail? That could mean anything."

"But it's the first sign we’ve had all day," Malachi said, "I'll circle around for a closer look."

Nidalee nodded and Nocturne gave a screech as Malachi tugged on the reins, angling the beast into a steep dive. The griffin descended like an arrow, its great wings tucked tight against its body as the ground rushed up to meet them.

Nidalee held on for dear life, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the leather harness.

"Hold on!" Malachi shouted over the roar of the wind.

They were less than a hundred feet from the ground when Nocturne pulled up, leveling out and slowing its descent.

It looked like a blighted hyena, its body picked clean by scavengers.

"Follow the carcasses," Nidalee said, looking up ahead.

With a mental command from Malachi, the griffin beat its powerful wings, and continued on. They followed the trail of bodies for hours until they reached a mountain, where it seemed like a war had been fought. Hundreds of giant scorpions lay dead, their bodies broken and twisted.

Amongst the blood, chitin, and carnage, they found a monster, a beast unlike anything they had ever seen. It looked like someone had crushed a dozen of the scorpions and shaped the pieces into a rough approximation of a human, only it stood twenty feet tall, and its pincers were the size of a horse.

It was dead.

"How is this possible?" Nidalee asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I have no idea," Malachi said, his knuckles white as he clutched his cane.

"Bastion was Obsidian, a few days ago," Nidalee said, "It would take ten Obsidian mages to take down a monster like this."

"I don't know. Maybe he's gotten stronger, maybe there were more people fighting."

"Maybe. But I still don't think he could have done this, not by himself."

They searched the area for some time, the stench of the dead beasts was almost overwhelming. There was no sign of Bastion, and no clue as to what had happened.

Finally, after hours of fruitless searching, they found what they were looking for.

"Footprints." Malachi pointed to a set of deep impressions in the sand, leading away from the mountain. "It looks like some large animal picked him up and carried him off."

"Where do they lead?"

"South, back to Misty Hollow."

"Then that's where we're going," Nidalee said, a grim determination in her voice. "And this time we do whatever it takes to stop him."

"Whatever it takes," Malachi agreed, he looked back at the mangled corpse of the giant monster and swallowed the lump in his throat.

***

The sun bathed the cobblestone streets in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows upon Misty Hollow. It was late afternoon, the time when farmers and fishermen returned home, but the streets were empty.

As I walked those streets, my pack weighed heavy on my back and the feeling of dread grew stronger with every step I took.

Finally, I found myself standing in front of my home. The door was shut, the windows closed. I knocked, hesitated and then entered.

The wind picked up, and the door slammed shut behind me. I took a deep breath and stepped into the living room.

"Mom," I said, my voice trembling as I spoke.

I took another step forward, my eyes scanning the room, searching for what they feared they would find.

But there was no blood, no stench, no flies.

"Mom!" I called again, louder this time.

Still no answer.

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I stepped into the kitchen and a ray of light shining through the window illuminated my mother. She looked like she was sleeping. Her head rested in her arms, the basket she was weaving on the table in front of her.

Tears ran down my cheek as I touched her shoulder and felt the coldness of her skin.

She was dead. It looked like she had simply stopped living.

I had lost a lot in life. I’d lost my family on Earth and everything and everyone I had ever known, but this hit me harder. My mother, she was all I had, and now she too was gone.

Someone had done this to her, someone had come into my village while I was away and taken everything from me.

My fingertips touched the dagger on my belt.

"I’ll come back soon," I said as I stepped out of my house.

I looked back, seeing my mother looking so peaceful. I closed the door behind me.

Somebody would pay for this.

I headed to the village square, hoping that the smoke, that guided me like a beacon, would hold answers to the myriad of questions bombarding my mind.

I passed the butcher's yard and the tannery, both were empty, the doors hanging open as if they'd been looted while everyone was away.

The Waystone Inn was gone, burned down and nothing left behind except charred timbers and ash. Everywhere I walked I found the dead. They were all the same, no cuts on their bodies, no signs of sickness or disease.

Death had come to Misty Hollow.

Was it a plague? Or was magic behind this?

Through the open door of the blacksmith's shop, I caught sight of Gabbro, he sat in his favorite leather chair. His calloused hand clutched a well-worn book. A crystal-clear glass of wine rested on a polished side table.

"Gabbro?" I said softly, moving forward.

I entered the house and froze as the stench hit me.

Gabbro's once lively eyes were now wide and glassy, frozen in a fixed stare. Blood, dark as the richest wine, stained his white beard and pooled in the crevices of his neck and collarbone.

His wife Griselda lay at his feet, her skin pale as death, her mouth open, like a fish gasping for breath. A bottle of medicine was clutched in her fist.

She died trying to help her husband.

The scene sickened me, and I backed away quickly, stumbling into the street. As if waiting for me, the wind whipped up, blowing dust and grit across my face, mingling with the tears that rolled down my cheeks.

I sat for a while in stunned silence, and then finally I wiped my eyes and looked up at the sky. The smoke rose steadily from the market square, and I moved towards it, slowly, carefully, keeping my eyes on the road in front of me.

I passed a wagon, full of dead bodies piled up ready to be taken to the morgue. Chadley Mews, the mortician, was slumped over in the driver's seat, his eyes wide with fear.

My mind whirled, grasping desperately for any explanation that might explain what had happened.

Was there plague?

Maybe a monster infestation?

Or were we under attack by card mages?

Whatever the cause, I could only think that it was my fault. If I had stayed, maybe I could have helped my mother, or Gabbro. But no... I had left to get stronger.

What was the purpose of strength when there was no one left to protect.

***

As I drew nearer to the center of the village, I saw them, crows, perched atop roofs, cawing as they watched me. Their beady blue eyes narrowed as they peered down at me, and I shivered, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.

Those eyes, they were hungry.

This was it.

This was where I'd find the answers.

A pyre burned brightly on the far side of the market. The flames crackled and popped, sending up showers of sparks.

As I reached the square, the smoke swirled around me, chasing away the cold wind. The smoke cleared, and I looked out at the corpses arranged in neat rows.

A crushing weight fell on me and as I fought to keep myself from falling apart I heard the faint sound of weeping, coming from a nearby building.

Penny, a young girl, her hair wild and unkempt, sobbed into the arms of her mother.

The smell of burning flesh still hung heavy in the air, but this time I didn't gag.

"Penny, Lillian, it's me, Bastion," I said softly, wiping away my own tears. "Can you hear me?"

The old woman's head swung to look at me, and I gasped as I stared into the holes that used to be Lillian's eyes.

She was dead but reanimated the same way my teacher, Tommelkins, had been.

The little girl, Penny, stared blankly at me. Finally, she blinked, and recognition dawned in her eyes.

"Bas," she croaked, voice hoarse.

"Yes. It's me."

I took her by the shoulders and pulled her away from the living corpse that had once been her mother. The undead woman merely rocked back and forth, moaning softly.

"What happened here?" I asked.

Penny didn't respond, but after a moment she began to shake.

"It's okay, Penny. You're safe now."

Eventually, her sobs subsided. She relaxed, letting out a slow breath. "They just started dying. Mama told us to hide under the bed..." Her voice trailed off, and she buried her face in my chest again.

I held her tight. I wanted to say something comforting, but there was nothing I could say that would fix this. Nothing anyone could say.

After a few minutes, she raised her head, wiping her teary eyes with dirty hands.

"Nobody knew what was happening. We thought maybe it was an illness. Maybe we could cure it somehow... but there was nothing anyone could do. Not even the card mages."

I stood up and took her hand. "Come on, let's go somewhere safe," I said.

She shook her head. "No. I have to stay with mama."

"That's not—" my words faltered.

I didn't want to tell her that her mother was gone forever. I knew what that felt like, and I didn't want to inflict that pain on her.

"We can come back for your mama," I said, glancing at the undead woman from the corner of my eye.

The little girl turned away, looking back towards the pyre. "The crow man told me that if I left mama, she'd die. I have to stay."

"What crow man? Who is he?"

She looked into my eyes, and I saw pain, anguish, and sadness reflected there. Then she pointed across the square.

I followed her finger, scanning the surrounding buildings, searching for an answer, and then I saw it.

A man dragging two bodies towards the pyre. A crow perched on his shoulder, and his multicolored robes billowed in the wind.

"Patches," I breathed.

***