I drifted back to consciousness slowly, like a swimmer rising from murky depths. The first sensation I felt was the softness of clean linen beneath my body. My eyelids felt heavy as I tried to open them, each attempt sending dull waves of pain through my skull. The air hummed with magic. Someone nearby was chanting softly in an ancient tongue. The voice sounded familiar, but my mind was still too rattled to think.
When I finally managed to force my eyes open, I found myself staring up at a vaulted ceiling of polished obsidian. The familiar architecture told me I was back in the Thirteenth Aurorium, though in a chamber I hadn’t seen before.
I lay on a raised bed draped with black silk sheets. The private chamber was a circular room with walls of the same shadow-veined stone I’d seen throughout the underground temple. Purple flames flickered in wall-mounted braziers, providing the only sources of light. Shelves lined with bottles, herbs, and healing implements surrounded me. The air carried the distinct scent of medicinal herbs—a mixture of lavender, sage, and cloves. Beneath that, I detected faint traces of incense that permeated the Thirteenth Aurorium’s halls.
Every breath I took sent spikes of pain through my chest. My entire body felt as though I’d been trampled by a herd of horses. My chest throbbed with each heartbeat, though the pain was dulled by whatever healing magic had been administered to me.
High Acolyte Vesper stood at my bedside, his hands hovering over my chest as he continuously chanted prayers of healing. Purple energy flowed from his fingers and seeped into my wound. The magic felt simultaneously like fire and ice. His ornate black and silver robes seemed to absorb the light from the braziers, and his holy symbol of Valic around his neck pulsed softly with each word he spoke.
Corvus sat in a chair near the foot of the bed, his blindfolded face turned in my direction. His favorite crow was perched on the stone ledge behind him.
I tried to speak, but all I could muster was a dry rasp. Vesper paused his chanting and reached for a cup of water on the bedside table.
“Slowly,” he cautioned, bringing the cup to my lips.
I took a small sip. The water was cool and carried the taste of mint and hints of other medicinal herbs that offered some relief to my parched throat.
“How long was I out?” I managed to ask once I could speak.
“Several hours,” Corvus answered.
I tried to push myself up to a sitting position, but Vesper’s firm hand on my shoulder kept me in place. “Be still. The wound was severe, and though the worst danger has passed, you need more time to heal.”
Fragments of memory flashed through my mind—the fiend’s transformation, the haunting symphony of stolen souls, the Serpent’s Fang plunging into corrupt flesh. But they were jumbled and disconnected like pieces of a shattered mirror.
“Evangeline,” I said suddenly, the name bringing a surge of panic. “Is she...”
“Alive,” Corvus said. “Though, like you, she requires time to recover. The fiend’s grip on her soul was particularly strong.”
Vesper’s expression grew solemn as he continued his healing application. “The lady bard is in isolation while she recovers. Unlike you, her body has little natural resistance to infernal powers. The fiend’s attempt to consume her soul left... deep wounds.”
A chill ran through me at his words. “What kind of wounds?”
“Think of it like severe burns, but on the soul rather than the flesh. The fiend’s touch corrupted and damaged the very essence of her being. It will take time and careful healing to restore what was nearly destroyed.”
Relief flooded through me, though it was quickly followed by frustration and rage at my own inability to protect her. How could I let this happen? “I need to see her,” I said. Despite my body’s protests, I had to force myself to remain still under Vesper’s ministrations.
Vesper shook his head. “Not yet. In her current state, exposure to any negative energy—even that which flows through your veins—could disrupt the healing process. You must be patient.”
The rational part of my mind understood the wisdom in his words, but something deeper and more primal rebelled against being separated from her. She was mine to protect, mine to care for.
I seethed in frustration. “How long must I wait?”
“A few days at least. Perhaps longer, depending on how her spirit responds to the treatments.
I closed my eyes, fighting against the urge to ignore his warnings and go to her anyway. The thought of Evangeline lying alone in some isolated chamber, her soul bearing the deep scars of that monster’s touch, was unacceptable. But I couldn’t risk causing her more harm through my own impatience.
“Tell me everything that happened,” I said finally, trying to piece together my fragmented memories. “After I... after the fiend...”
“You nearly died,” Corvus stated bluntly. “The wound you inflicted upon yourself, while cleverly placed to avoid immediate death, was still grave. Had we not reached you when we did...” His words trailed off, but the implication was clear. His crow let out a soft caw, as if emphasizing the point.
“I must commend you on your courageous actions,” Vesper said, his tone carrying a hint professional admiration. “Your self-inflicted wound was precisely placed. Had you struck just a fraction deeper or to either side...”
“It was necessary. I had to make the fiend believe it had won.” I paused and managed a weak smile at Corvus. “I merely created an opportunity, as you had taught me, brother.”
Corvus nodded. “A calculated risk.”
“Ramon’s basic knowledge of healing magic proved invaluable,” Vesper added. “He helped stabilize you long enough to be brought here. Consider it his way of making amends for his part in all this.”
“I’ll remember to thank him sometime,” I said in a sarcastic tone.
“Though his assistance was welcome,” Vesper added with a stern note in his voice, “it does not absolve him of his crimes. The theft of the Serpent’s Fang caused considerable chaos and put many lives at risk.”
“He helped stop a powerful fiend,” Corvus countered, his blindfolded face turning towards the cleric. “Surely that counts for something.”
Vesper nodded once. “Indeed, and that will be taken into consideration. But actions have consequences, brother Corvus. The sanctity of our holy relics must be maintained or order breaks down. Ramon will face appropriate punishment for the theft, though perhaps not as severe as initially planned. He has agreed to seek atonement from Lord Valic for his transgressions.”
I frowned, trying to remember more details of the battle. “And what of the dagger?”
“Safely returned to its rightful place,” Vesper assured. “Though its power seems... different now. Changed by its encounter with such ancient evil. Our scholars will be studying it carefully.”
A moment of silence fell over the chamber, broken only by the soft crackle of the braziers and the continuous hum of Vesper’s healing magic. “What about the other bards?” I asked.
“All alive, though, they, too, require time to recover,” Vesper said. “Some were more deeply affected than others. The fiend had been slowly feeding on their souls for months, perhaps years. Last night’s ritual was merely the manifestation of the fiend’s consumption. The damage will take time to heal.
“The guests and other victims survived as well. The city’s temples have taken them in. Clerics from various orders are tending to their recovery. The trauma of having one’s soul partially consumed...” He shook his head grimly.
I struggled to organize my fragmented memories. “Did I really destroy the fiend?”
“Its physical form, yes.” Corvus nodded. “But fiends of that power can’t be permanently destroyed on Aetheria. Its essence has been forced back to its home in the Infernal Realm, where it will take centuries for it to reform. And even then, it will most likely lose rank amongst the fiendish order and be much less powerful than before.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Even so, its hold over Ebonheart is broken, at least,” Vesper said, his hands still moving in intricate patterns as purple healing energy flowed into my wound. “The corruption it spread through the city is already beginning to fade. The people are awakening as if from a long nightmare.”
I grimaced. “But what about all the souls it consumed?”
“It appears they were returned to their rightful owners. However, the experience has left its mark on them. Particularly on those who were bound the longest, like the bards.”
“What kind of fiend was that we faced, anyway?”
“From what Corvus had described to me, it sounded like a masphroth,” Vesper explained. They are ancient beings, usually a low-ranking commander for an archfiend’s army. It seems this creature has been planning its infiltration of Ebonheart for a while.”
“The magistrate’s position was perfect for its purposes,” Corvus added. “A role of authority that allowed it to slowly corrupt the city’s power structure while maintaining a façade of order and justice. The very opposite of what true justice should be.”
I remembered the creature’s perfectly maintained aristocratic appearance, how it had fooled nearly everyone. “But why Ebonheart specifically?”
“Location,” Vesper replied. “Ebonheart is one of many places that sits at a confluence of ley lines—channels of magical energy that flow through Aetheria. The fiend sought to use these power sources, combined with the stolen souls of the bards, to establish a permanent foothold in our realm.
“The creature was attempting to transform Ebonheart into a mirror of its own domain in the Infernal Realm. Had it succeeded, the city would have become a beacon of corruption, spreading its influence across the entire region.”
As I absorbed this information, I tried to piece it all together with my fragmented memories of the battle. “So that means order has been restored in Ebonheart?”
“Quite the opposite,” Vesper said grimly. “The city is in absolute chaos. However, it’s the chaos of awakening, of throwing off chains that many didn’t even realize they wore. The fiend’s influence ran deep, corrupting not just the obvious seats of power, but the very fabric of daily life. It will take time for Ebonheart to fully heal and find its balance again.”
“You knew, all this time,” I said, my voice hardening despite my weakened state. “You knew what that creature was doing to the city, yet you chose to do nothing.”
Vesper paused a moment. “My position as High Acolyte requires certain... discretion. The aurorium must maintain its neutrality in civic matters, lest we become entangled in political struggles that could compromise our sacred duties.”
“Neutrality?” I scoffed, then immediately regretted it as pain lanced through my chest. “While that thing corrupted everything it touched? While it stole people’s souls?”
“You don’t understand the delicate balance we must maintain. The aurorium serves a higher purpose than mere temporal politics. Our duty as clerics is to preserve the sacred mysteries, to maintain the rituals that keep darkness in check.”
“And yet, when Ramon stole the Serpent’s Fang, you were quick enough to act then.”
Vesper shook his head. “That was different. The theft of a sacred artifact directly threatened our order, and our ability to fulfill our duties to Lord Valic.” He was silent for a long moment. “But perhaps I was... overly cautious,” he admitted quietly. “When the fiend first arrived, it seemed wiser to watch and wait, to gather information rather than act hastily. But as its corruption spread, as it sank its claws deeper into Ebonheart’s core...” He sighed. “By the time I realized the true extent of its plans, it had already amassed too much power and influence. The theft of the Serpent’s Fang, your arrival, and all that followed... perhaps Valic himself arranged these events to force our hand.”
“And now?” I asked. “What becomes of Ebonheart?”
“The city must find its own path forward. Already, various factions vie for control of the power vacuum left by the fiend’s destruction. Some seek genuine reform, others merely wish to claim the creature’s abandoned throne for themselves.”
“The people deserve better.”
“Perhaps,” Vesper conceded. “But it is not our place to decide their fate. The aurorium will return to its proper role—maintaining the sacred rites, preserving the ancient knowledge, and serving Valic’s will. The politics of Ebonheart must be settled by others.”
Too exhausted to argue further, I conceded this losing battle against the stoic, headstrong cleric and changed the subject. “Tell me more about Evangeline’s condition. I need to know exactly what that creature did to her.”
Vesper pursed his lips. “Her physical recovery progresses well enough. But the spiritual damage... that’s another matter entirely.”
“What does that even mean?” I tried to sit up again, but Vesper’s firm hand kept me in place.
“It means you need to focus on your own recovery first,” Corvus broke in with finality. “We can discuss the bard’s condition later.”
I growled in frustration. “I’m not some weak initiate who needs coddling. Tell me what’s wrong with her, damn it.”
“Enough.” Corvus’s tone brooked no argument. “You’ve done what needed to be done, brother. The fiend is banished, the souls are freed, and Ebonheart is delivered from its corruption. Now you must rest and heal. We need to return to the Dreadspire Sanctum as soon as you’re able. Malachai must be informed of what transpired here.”
Something in his tone made me uneasy. Perhaps it was the mention of Malachai, or something else entirely. “You mean our job is done here?”
“For now,” Vesper said with a nod. “You have completed your task way beyond my expectations. The Serpent’s Fang is back where it belongs, and I have personally affixed my seal of completion to the mission brief.”
Corvus flashed a rolled-up parchment from beneath his cloak.
The sight of the parchment stirred something in my gut. Yes, we had completed our assigned task, but so much more felt unfinished. To leave Evangeline in her current state, without fully understanding what had been done to her...
“Your dedication to the bard is admirable,” Corvus said, as if reading my thoughts. “But remember your true purpose, brother. You are a servant of Valic first, a warrior of shadow and order. Personal attachments must not interfere with your duties.”
Vesper’s healing magic pulsed one final time, and then he concluded his prayer and lowered his hands. “You should be fully recovered by mid-afternoon. The wound was severe, but your natural connection to shadow has sped up the healing process.”
“Good,” Corvus stated. “Because we must return to the Dreadspire Sanctum by midnight tonight.”
I furrowed my brow. “Tonight? That’s barely enough time to—”
“Malachai expects our return,” Corvus cut me off firmly. “He will want a full report on what transpired here.”
“But Evangeline…”
“Your duty to the order comes first. Always,” Corvus reminded me, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I clenched my fists, feeling the dark energy pulse beneath my skin. She is mine to protect.
“She will be safe here,” Vesper assured. “The aurorium’s wards are strong, and I will personally oversee her recovery. No harm will come to her.”
“Brother,” Corvus said, his voice softening slightly. “I understand your feelings for the bard. But remember who you are, what you serve. Malachai’s summons cannot be ignored.”
I closed my eyes, trying to master the conflicting emotions warring inside me while fighting off my body’s creeping exhaustion. The rational part of my mind knew they were both right. My duty to Valic and the order had to take precedence. But another part of me, the part that had claimed Evangeline as mine, rebelled against the idea of abandoning her.
“At least let me see her before we leave,” I pleaded, my voice tight with suppressed emotion. “I just need to know she’s truly safe.”
Corvus folded his arms across his chest and frowned. Vesper looked at the blind warrior, as though he were considering something.
“Perhaps...” the cleric said at last, “once you’re fully healed, a brief visit might be possible. But you must understand that her condition is delicate. Any strong emotions, any surge of dark energy, could disrupt the healing process.”
“I can control myself,” I insisted, though the pulsing of my dark veins betrayed my agitation.
“Can you?” Corvus asked quietly. “When you see her lying there, still bearing the marks of what that creature did to her soul? When you feel the lingering corruption that taints her essence? Will you be able to master your rage, then?”
His words cut deep because I knew he was right. The mere thought of seeing physical evidence of the fiend’s violation of her spirit made my blood burn with fury. If I actually saw her in such a state...
“We leave in the afternoon,” Corvus continued, his tone gentler now. Apparently, my silence was enough to answer his question.
I lay back against the pillows, feeling the weight of duty and desire pressing down on me like a physical force. “Must we tell Malachai everything?”
“I will be the one delivering the primary report to him. As your senior, it’s my responsibility to provide a thorough and unbiased account of the mission’s events.”
I swallowed once. “And what exactly will you tell him?”
“The truth,” Corvus replied simply. “That we successfully recovered the Serpent’s Fang, uncovered a fiendish plot to corrupt Ebonheart, and eliminated a significant threat to Valic’s order. The technical details of how we accomplished this will, of course, be included.”
“Just... don’t mention anything about Evangeline and me,” I said, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
He tilted his head in a way, as though he were giving me a dubious look through the blindfold. “You know Malachai will discover your attachment one way or another.”
“Not if you keep your mouth shut.”
Corvus let out a harsh laugh. “Brother, very little escapes his notice. He has ways of discerning truth from lies that even I don’t fully understand.”
I clenched my fists in frustration. “What will you say, then?”
“I...” Corvus hesitated, clearly struggling with this admission. “Your attachment to her is... concerning, and I cannot deny that it played a role in our victory. But Malachai will not see it that way.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“I suggest you prepare yourself for his reaction,” Corvus said grimly. “He views such connections as weaknesses to be exploited or eliminated. When he learns of this—and he will—there will be consequences.”
Vesper, who had been quietly observing our exchange, spoke up. “I will send regular updates on her recovery to—”
“The truth,” Corvus interrupted sharply. “That she was instrumental in exposing the fiend’s corruption, and that she now requires time to heal from her ordeal. But make no mention of...” he gestured vaguely in my direction, “...personal entanglements.”
I wanted to argue further, but exhaustion was creeping back in, making my thoughts fuzzy and unfocused. The healing magic, while necessary, was draining in its own way, and my body felt drawn back towards sleep. My eyelids felt heavy, and the purple light from the braziers seemed to blur and swim before my eyes. I tried to resist the growing heaviness in my limbs, but it was a losing battle. My last conscious thought was of Evangeline and the mysteries that still surrounded her condition. Then darkness claimed me once more, and I slipped back into dreamless sleep.