Erex's mood was as dark and stormy as the weather as he sat in misery within the cook tent. Several warriors sat with him awaiting an early breakfast. Normally the first hot-meal on enemy land was cause for carousal and storytelling. This time there was only silence around the cook fire and Erex hated feeling responsible for that. Erex's gumption as a warrior-skald was wavering, as was his self-confidence.

His mind kept reviewing events leading up to this moment as if it sought an alternate ending. Erex was young for a skald, unproven in battle and unrenowned in his oratory skills. Thus it both pleased and surprised him greatly so be selected by Briax for this raid. Erex remembered the day well.

In the weeks before their launch, Tarax's death was big news. Well-respected O'Skals didn't die every day, especially not from shellfish poisoning of all things. Dreaded as he was, foul play was an obvious conclusion, prompting an investigation by the Morgons. When no arrests took place everyone watched and waited to see how Briax and his half-brother Athryx would react.

Athryx and Briax were never close growing up, often quarreling. Most expected a duel between the brothers for rights to all their father's property. Local gossip favored Athryx, Tarax's younger son, to win such a fight. He had the same cruel reputation and penchant for violence as his father. Briax was an unknown, reputed to be more of an explorer than a warrior. Rumor had it Briax preferred to sail around the island on shore-hugging trade ships rather than raiding.

Thus it was something of a disappointment, if not a surprise, to hear Briax settled for less than half of what he was entitled to as the eldest son, giving Athryx the lion's share of their inheritance. What was surprising is how Briax sought out skalhood and traveled the land seeking warriors, instead of simply summoning them as other well known Skals were known to do.

Kurg was the first to join his banner, a fact that prompted a great deal of interest in his command because Kurg never agreed to go raiding before. Other warriors convinced Briax of their worthiness in one way or another, but Erex himself was the last to be chosen, and it was never made clear to him why he was chosen above others? The question mulled over in his mind now once more, as it so often had.

Erex knew Briax had already met with other skalds in the days leading up to their launch; skalds with more experience and skills than he. He also knew skalds earned an extra share of spoils writing ballads that promoted further raids for the crew. Thus, Erex made an effort to speak with the other warriors for this purpose, collecting details he could later use for such ballads during their long days at sea. He recalled now that not one of these other warriors were married or otherwise well-ensconced in the Morg community. Some were too young and unproven, others too old and disgraced, which was perhaps exactly why they were chosen! A realization suddenly came to Erex in between spasms of pain.

Briax chose these warriors for his crew his ship precisely because they had nothing to lose if they didn't return! The thought angered Erex even further. He'd actually believed Briax saw something unique about him; some special quality that made him worthy of this raid. Now it occurred to him that the truth might be precisely the opposite.

Why was he intrigued by this idea of occupying the enemy homeland when so far, all he had to show for it was a lost eye! Nevermind that one-eyed Morg were capable of living long, fulfilling lives. Erex knew several tales that proved that in fact, but right now none of them brought comfort. His blood was up and the only thing he wanted was things to make sense.

It irked him that he actually expected Briax to punish the sorceress on his behalf. That's why he tried to demand justice, something akin to an eye-for-an-eye. Thinking back on it, Erex wasn't even sure why he spoke up for Briax when he did? He must be in denial. Perhaps Olaf was right; this raid was cursed! Erex's thoughts were interrupted as Vog, the cook, placed a bowl of hot gruel and flat bread in his hands.

"Try to eat something." He said in a comforting tone. Vog was a stout veteran of many raids, almost as old as Olaf and clearly past his prime. His portly gut and love of rum didn't help him swing an axe or charge up a hill to be sure... but he knew how to make the best of scavenged food and treat wounds which earned him a lot of appreciation.

Erex stared at the food, feeling his stomach growl while also dreading the act of chewing while his head ached so painfully. After a moment he passed the food over to the others who silently divvied it amongst themselves. Vog placed a bottle of rum in his hands instead and Erex uncorked it with the tip of his dagger gratefully.

"I'll fashion an eye patch soon lad." Vog said while the others ate. Erex was close to drinking half the bottle when Belisheri approached through the downpour in a hooded cloak. Erex's headache worsened as his hands clenched at the sight of her.

The Sorceress paused beside the cook tent carrying the still and lifeless Torok with a broken neck. For a moment the warriors stared and no one said anything. Erex was pleased to see the Torok dead and mangled, he wondered who did it? Yet that creature's death wasn't quite enough to balance the scales of resentment in his heart.

Erex imagined how satisfying it would be to smash the bottle of rum across Belisheri's face, perhaps blinding her in the process! That at least would be justice! Sensing his anger, Vog placed a warning hand on his shoulder.

"Would you like some gruel?" Vog asked the sorceress respectfully.

"I would speak with Erex."

All the other warriors stopped chewing.

"Speak then!" Erex spat, surprising himself with the heated tone of disrespect that soured his words.

Belisheri clenched her jaw, "I wish to apologize for the wound my Torok inflicted." She said at last, clearly struggling with how she just lowered herself to addressing a mere Morg like an equal.

Erex blinked... an apology was the last thing he expected! Belisheri continued.

"My familiar was only acting as it was trained to do... yet Briax demands I make amends. What is it that you want?"

Morg hardly ever had a chance to ask for something from a sorceress. This gesture was unprecedented! Erex stared at her, still seated, but far from calm.

Custom did not stipulate that he had to accept her offer, yet refusal would almost certainly stir bad blood between them and things could quickly get nasty. Erex knew this. Part of him relished the idea of giving into his anger instead of playing this game. And yet, playing this game better than she did may be the best way to get even! Slowly he rose, still holding the bottle.

"Teach me the secrets of sorcery. I wish to be a spell-caster!" Erex demanded, prompting the other warriors mouths to fall agape. Such a request was unheard of! Belisheri furrowed her brows towards Erex with a dangerous expression. The other warriors feared another confrontation about to take place!

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"Follow!" She said curtly, whirling about and stalking on towards her tent.

Erex was too stunned to react at first... he didn't expect her to actually agree... if indeed she did? The other warriors started to speak but Vog snatched away his bottle and shoved him into the rain after her before anyone else could dissuade him.

The lashing downpour quickly cured the numbing influence of the rum out of his head. Remarkably he wasn't even angry anymore. Now he was only curious, and determined not to make a fool of himself.

Belisheri's tent was a strange design, supported from its center by a tall iron pike poking through a circular iron ring. A ring that served as a central link to several iron chains, each with an identical iron ring at their other end supporting other iron pikes that served as the corners of the tent. The walls of the tent were made of stitched animal hides, dyed in shades of black, grey and red.

Erex knew Belisheri couldn't have managed to carry such an elaborate and heavy tent all this way from the cove alone. In fact he didn't recall her carrying much of anything when she set off to scout a location for this camp in the first place? Where did this come from? He wondered, pushing his way in behind her. Inside it was warm, smelling faintly of old candles and exotic incense.

He was also shocked to see its interior was much larger than it appeared. Indeed it was not a tent at all, but rather some small stone hut, complete with a sleeping chamber, a kitchen, and a small laboratory/study beside a cramped living area, lit by a low-burning fire in a small hearth.

"What is this? Where are we?!" He asked with disbelief.

"This is an illusion of my real home back on Morg Isle, recreated from memory and manifested by my bloodstone..." She gestured to a talisman hanging from a hook on one of the walls as she hung her wet cloak on another.

Erex was speechless, glancing about with a dizzy feeling. He concentrated on the sound of the weather pattering against the clay tiles of the roof... He wanted to reach out and touch something merely to confirm if it really had substance or not? The place felt like someone else's dream, which was also perhaps why he had the sense that he was being watched?

Sensing movement at the corners of his eyes he glanced over his shoulders, yet whatever it was vanished as soon as he glanced towards it. Erex had a very unsettled, uncomfortable feeling. However, he resisted the urge to bolt, reminding himself this was his choice to be here. Whatever happened he must stay and learn all he could, for as long as he could.

Meanwhile, Belisheri carried the Torok to a small altar featuring a ceremonial dagger and a large iron bowl stained with blood.

"What are you doing?" Erex asked.

"I am healing my familiar, be silent!" She hissed.

Erex was angered imagining that awful creature brought back to life somehow.

"That wasn't part of the deal!" He complained.

"If you want to learn anything from me, learn first never to interfere!" She warned, placing the Torok in the bowl as her fingers twitched and her voice hissed and chanted in some dark language. After a minute she lifted the dagger and sliced open her wrist, dripping blood into the bowl. Moments later the creature stirred, the crushed vertebrae in its neck snapping back into place.

It licked at her wound hungrily, but weakly, growing stronger the more it drank. When it had its fill it clambered up her arm again to sit upon her shoulder, hissing at Erex hatefully. Feeding the creature apparently took a toll on Belisheri as she suddenly lost her strength to stand, leaning forward to support herself against the altar.

"Why do you love that wicked thing so much?!" Erex asked.

"Familiars are useful!" She scoffed. "Be glad I was able to save it in time, ...or I assure you I wouldn't be in the mood to consider your request at all." She said with an apparent loss of breath.

"Is it your blood that's magic, or your spells?" He questioned.

Belisheri answered as if talking to a child. "Our blood is already magic. Sanguinarcana is the mastery of that power. With it I can heal, corrupt, manipulate or destroy any living thing that bleeds."

Erex felt a question at the tip of his tongue, one Belisheri also predicted.

"You wish to ask if I can heal you?" She asked. Erex was irked to answer that, but he couldn't help himself.

"Can you?"

"Perhaps, but that wasn't what you asked for is it? What you want is the ability to heal yourself, as I can." She said placing her dagger back on the altar before she willed her own wrist to stop bleeding somehow. "Blood is precious, never waste a single drop!"

"How can I manage that?" He asked impatiently.

"How do scabs form? It's a perfectly natural process. Your body only does it very slowly, so the healing process doesn't weaken you too much." She commented, stepping over to a high-backed chair where she could sit and catch her breath. The Torok meanwhile, leaped on top and continued to glare at Erex.

"Teach me how!" He demanded.

Belisheri sighed. "This is no small thing you ask! Only female Morg, or Morgons, typically possess the capacity for sorcery. You risk your life, even your soul, without the gifts I was born with!"

Erex shook his head. "I've studied many legends in my studies as a Skald. I would not be the first Morg to take on this path!"

"Even if I wanted to teach you, it is not permitted. Morgons will execute us both!"

"As if they don't have ample cause to do so already? At least in this, Eros the all-father gave his blessing, and Queen Kari herself encouraged it, long before the Morgons started adding amendments to his mandates!"

Belisheri snorted. This one was indeed stubborn. "All these legends, of Morg sorcerers... you remember how they ended yes?"

Erex nodded. "It ended badly for all of them, but some of them accomplished great things!"

"You do not understand the price you will pay for what you desire! Magic is not power manifested out of nothing, much as it might appear that way. It is simply alchemy of a higher form. Anything created with magic destroys something else. Can you truly accept that?"

"It is the only thing I can accept for the loss of this eye!" He spat back.

Belisheri smirked. "Why are Morg so often such great fools? Briax also desires great power, and like so many others, he's convinced himself he's more deserving of it. You both overestimate yourselves and your own worthiness."

"What power does he seek?" Erex asked, regretting it immediately.

Belisheri flashed a look of disapproval. "Shame on you, questioning your Skal like that?! Perhaps Kurg should hear of this?"

"I did not mean it that way!" Erex argued with frustration.

Belisheri leaned forward heatedly, already regaining some of her strength. "Yes you did! Do not lie to me Erex. Not here in my domain!"

Erex swallowed, suddenly overcome by a deep feeling of dread pressing in around him that tingled against his skin like goosebumps. Something else was in here with them, a presence both invisible and evil. He knew it now with a certainty that chilled his blood.

Belisheri smiled and leaned back. "I see the fear in your eyes Erex. You realize we aren't alone don't you? Very perceptive! This is a sign you may possess the gifts after all..."

"What is it?"

"A demon!"

By instinct Erex took a half step towards the door before he forced himself to stop, summoning up every bit of courage he had left to remain put.

"Why is it here?"

"It's here for me." She said matter of factly.

"What does it want?" He asked worryingly.

"It waits for you to leave us alone, as you might wait for someone to open a shutter to shoo away a fly."

"...Why?"

"Because I'd prefer privacy for what comes next. I suggest you take the hint Erex. We will speak again tomorrow."

Erex left the tent immediately, that feeling of dread clinging to him as he hurried back towards the cook tent, heart pounding in his chest. Whatever was going on between Belisheri and a demon, he was sure he wanted no part of! Skalds and shamans were better educated than most Morg, and thus were sometimes aware of queen Kari's connection to her Khimeran ancestors through demonic blood. Therefore, he supposed it shouldn't be all that surprising that Belisheri should consort with demons the way queen Kari's people did.

Few facts were actually known about demons, but wicked tales of their deeds were common enough in Morg lore. Demons were cruel, violent and evil beyond measure. They relished in suffering and torment, reveled in acts of terror. Their deeds put even the most despicable and blood-thirsty villains to shame. Those unfortunate enough to lay eyes on them spoke of forms so hideous and terrible to behold it affected madness, blindness, sometimes both. Erex had no desire to loose his mind, and he very much wanted to keep the use of his one remaining eye!

At this moment he truly did feel every bit the fool Belisheri claimed he was. It was easy enough to desire great power after all... to envy abilities like Belisheri's, so long as one did not understand what was necessary to attain them. All he knew for certain at this moment was how grateful he was to be walking back towards his brothers in arms. That's also why he was too distracted to notice Olaf slink up behind him.