“You...?” Lina said. Her voice was still, even, and almost motherly. None of the anger one might expect – but to be struck by a perceived ally was wrong. And she was filled with rightness now. No longer focused on the black wolf, but on Benny. He'd barely moved her, filled with power as she was. His hand shattered and bloodied by the contact with the barrier of the divine resting over her. Even with all his strength, he was no equal to the blessing of a god. She took Benny with her free hand by the throat, holding him aloft and staring at him, no emotion present on her face. “We are those about Her work. You would strike at Us?”

With the smallest ounce of the alien power residing in her frame, she could snap his neck like a twig. Nyx wouldn't mind. A water goddess had no love for his people. Few gods cared much for non-humans in any case. Dwarves were one of the only exceptions, but it varied.

Benny choked, barely able to speak, but she could see everything he was in that moment. Casting him to the ground and planting a boot on his chest instead. The wolf was no more a concern than an ant before the collapse of a building. She'd end it, in time, and cleanse this land of impurity as she was commanded. Without question and without remorse. Most of these wretched nonbelievers could die, and she'd feel nothing. Only the untainted would be given leave to continue on living.

“Friend.” Benny wheezed. “Wolves are friends. Okami...” Her boot pressed harder into his chest, allowing him the pleasure of feeling his sternum crack and ribs grind together. Agonizing and slow, his lungs compressed and flattened within him, cutting off any further words.

“Okami...” He repeated, choking on the blood welling up in his mouth. He could not understand what had overcome the woman, he'd simply struck her. But human women were confusing, and that's why he did not like them. Only lady Alex and her sisters could hold his attention as the beloved of his sworn brother. They were kind, honorable, and reasonable... But the rest of them...

Those words, or rather that word, seemed to amuse the great black wolf remaining still at the end of the courtyard. From beneath his feet, a puppy came paddling out to greet them. White as snow, blue eyed and fluffy. In better times, Lina would've thought it cute, but all she could feel now was a revulsion that betrayed the cool authority governing her mind. A disgusting thing, a monster, just like those she'd failed to stop in Trier.

“What is this word? Okami? A word from the language of your people?” She stomped again, smiling soft and kindly throughout. “Foul thing.” She added, her lips turned upwards splitting into a toothy grin. “Let Us wash away the impurity within--.”

BOOM.

Lina was struck in the chest by an incredible force, a bolt of lightning wreathing her body, causing her to twist painfully. The hand of her goddess fleeing as soon as she'd left the ground, sending her mind to blackness. Benny coughed violently, spitting blood onto the flagstone and groaning as his team lifted him up. They'd been so shocked and pressured by the dual auras battling against one another that they could not act. And they felt a great shame for it. Okami's distended maw was wreathed in smoke, belching loudly and snorting the vapor away.

“Thank you.” Benny lurched, stabilized by the steady claw of Kirk holding his back. Bowing toward Okami and the black wolf respectfully. “Something came over her, I think. I wish you'd not have killed her. I did not know the gods were so... Cruel?”

“I did not.” Okami spoke. Benny remained open mouthed as he continued. “She is simply disabled for the moment. And it is not her god that spoke those words, but her. Few celestial beings occupy and override the minds of mortals. What they choose to do with the power and aspect temporarily given to them is their responsibility. Nyx is a goddess of love and nurture, how that tiny woman chooses to leverage that power is of no fault of the rivers maiden.”

Belying his tiny and rather adorable form, the white wolfs voice was smooth and rumbling. Deep and masculine. The others behind them shook with fear after seeing the tiny beast sweep a blessed paladin from her feet, shying away from the 'talking animal'. As for Benny, Kirk, and the others of their party familiar with the wolf – they felt only respect. Naturally, a great and intelligent magical beast could surely speak.

“I am greatly honored that you would speak to me so candidly, great one.” Benny replied, bowing.

“You are brother to my brother.” Okami seemed to frown, if such a thing was possible. Unable to understand why anyone would be so reverent. He was just a wolf. As majestic as he was, it was hard to accept groveling, he was no alpha and did not find it appropriate. “Thus, you are my brother. I did as was right and as was sworn by my bond of souls. I could, and so I did. Called here by another friend who I do not know. A friend to the forest and the meadows.”

“I... See...” Benny cleared his throat, painfully at that. He could barely stand, and his voice emerged as a tiny rasp from his bruised throat. Thankfully, canines had good hearing, he supposed. “What do we do now?” He asked.

It was the black wolf that spoke. Not a male as expected, but a female. “I would advise that you retreat into that little den of yours. I cannot see or sense what is inside, so I leave that to you. We have given this favor, and now the pack will leave. If not for the child at my feet, I would have left all you foolish two-legs to die for the mistakes of your kin. But alas, I've a soft heart. I bid you farewell, pray that we never meet again, for mine might not be so friendly towards those who ravage mine lands.”

“...”

When the black wolf was gone, leaving only Okami, the others finally spoke. “...Who talks like that?”

“Good gods, I thought we were all dead for sure.”

“I shit my pants.!”

“What?”

“I shit my pants.”

“I heard that, but... Why are you telling us!? Oh gods, I can smell it.”

“This isn't where I parked my carriage...”

Okami shifted to his full size, his deep blue eyes focused on Benny in particular, though he nodded to Kirk and the others in a friendly sort of way. It was bizarre, seeing a horse sized wolf use such humanoid expressions. “I must leave as well. This city and its magic were disabled, but we will all be killed if we remain here much longer. Despite the matriarchs words, these creatures are impure and must be cleansed from the world before they are allowed to spread. I am sorry, friend. If I could, I would stay, you should know that. Please protect him for me.” He didn't wait for a response, bounding off at an incredible speed and leaving them alone and unsure of what to do next.

–

They felt like pack mules. Everyone seemed to be carrying something or someone. Benny hoisted Lina over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. The fortunate return of Abe and time given to them by the similarly fortunate arrival of the direwolf pack had saved them. Giving them time to heal their wounds and recover even a modicum of stamina. Yana rested in Jura's arms. Fortunately still alive, but barely.

“Pretty convenient that a whole pack of guardian beasts would show up all at once like that.” Rakkis chuckled tiredly. For all the green of his skin, he was looking a bit pale, but he'd never admit just how exhausted he was.

“The guardian beasts are named such, because they are guardians of this land. Impurity causes them a great deal of discomfort, and seeing their cousins twisted in such a way angered the matriarch. They have always been here, long before we were.” Abe frowned, it was indeed fortunate, but there was the question of how such a large group of werekin were able to pierce so deeply into republic territory without being stopped earlier. Even in all the madness, they would have been the first targets of any guardian beast in the region, of which there were many. They cared little for monsters who obeyed natural law, but they would never suffer a were.

Despite all efforts, they'd failed to close the gate behind them, but the wolves had been confident about the return of power to the city. With that being the case, there'd be few places safer than this, considering the authorities spreading news of the astral gate being closed and finally safe. Peace and an opportunity to rebuild had settled across the Republic. Hence why so many adventurers had gone, and left the city uncharacteristically low in fighting men.

“Where are the guards?” One of the noncombatants, an association bureaucrat by the look of his stained robes. Not possessive of much authority as to afford a self-repairing item, it seemed. “There should be guards at every checkpoint... This is a severe breach of protocol. Even in the event of an external attack, they must never leave their posts...”

“Maybe they ran.” Girshan shrugged, suddenly the leader again despite all the confusion. He'd gotten them this far, and even in his battle worn state he was the best chance they had at further survival. Although he said as much, he'd have to agree with the old mans assertion about the unlikelihood that they'd not be here – not even a drop of blood to signify they were there at all. The guardians of this city were not frail men, weaklings, or cowards. They were extensively vetted. There wasn't a chance in all hells that every single one of them had decided to leave so quickly. There would be bodies, but here in the cold halls, there was nothing but the long shadows cast by their flares. Open gates and locked doors to the interior chambers of the citadel. An eerie silence where there should be noise.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Was there always a corner here?” Benny frowned. The perfectly straight tunnel bent at an angle that he was sure had not existed before. It had always been a dead shot to the astral gate.

“Someone activated the defensive protocol. This is a living structure, science we do not understand, but we can use it well enough. It looks like it had only just begun before the power went out.” The same association employee from before frowned similarly, careful to always keep an eye at his back and behind the armed members of the mob he'd had the fortune to fall in with. “It's strange, though. There are no corpses or signs of battle, but something smashed through the barrier gate... I'm not sure if we should continue, anything strong enough to do that is more than what we are prepared to handle. Surely support will arrive at any time now, we should wait.”

And yet, despite his words, the tunnel remained silent. No alarms, no sounds of conflict or marching feet. There was only one way out of this place with the postern doors locked. A heavy slab of metal served as the final gate and checkpoint between them and the astral gate. Smashed into pieces and melted at the edges, scoring and burn marks up and down the walls.

“Do you think some monster escaped the gate and started what's happening outside?” Benny asked, eyeing the barrier suspiciously.

“No.” Abe shook his head. “Whatever did that, it came from this direction, not the opposite. Something went in, not out.”

“Xavier.” Girshan nodded. There wasn't much need to explain what he wanted the boy to do.

Without preamble, Xavier stepped through. Still blue and composed of that crystalline steel Tyr had given him. Feeling none of the telltale warning signs that it was fading or falling in power. If anything, it seemed to get stronger the closer he got to other sources of the ambient mana bleeding into the world. A rush of power and energy that he couldn't get enough of.

“Clear.” He called out. No threats. No monsters, humans, dwarves, beastkin of any kind based on the alarm flare he threw. They marched on for another minute, the whole facility turned labyrinthine with dozens of turns, corners, and curves. Mana pylons and cannons silent and dark throughout the length of it all. Finally, they came to the end of their short journey. The blue light of the astral gate illuminating the pitch black atmosphere of the tunnel. That's when they paused. Not a single one of them could believe what they were seeing.

Or rather, smelling.

First, it came as a stench. The stench of death and decomposition, Girshan felt his nose wrinkle at the intensity of it, wishing he could turn away before spitting and throwing a mask over his face. The others did the same with as much haste as possible. The adventurers passing out as many spares from their dimensional items as they could, though it wasn't enough. Forcing many of the noncombatants to suffer on and wretch, pulling their long sleeves over their mouths and noses to ward it off. Like honeyed ham left to rot in a swamp, it was file.

“What in the world...” Benny groaned, stepping to the forefront alongside Xavier with Lina still carried over his back. The woman fell limp to the ground in a clatter of armor as his body slackened and legs grew weak. Everywhere just before the gate was bathed in a dull white illumination. Enough to go without torches. It was like a meat grinder had passed through the place. Bodies torn asunder with extreme prejudice. Everywhere was red. Chunks of viscera and bits of pulverized skin and organs patterning the walls. Splayed about in their last moments and crushed almost beyond recognition. Almost, for their armor and the cloth that they'd once worn spoke to their identity. These were the priests that had been sent to guard the astral gate. Over fifty of them. All dead.

Only one figure stood, a gaunt and haunting figure heaving stitching breaths, still holding the upper half of a body that had seemingly been torn in half in his free hand. Spotless and clean, though the wicked cleaver it was holding was not. Breathing unsteadily with a wide and maddened look in its eyes.

“...Tyr?” Benny balked at the sight of him. Tyr looked nothing like he remembered. His cheeks sunken and body skeletal. Staring down hungrily at the remains of the fallen priests, visibly drooling at the sight of the bloody flesh patterning the ground. In any other circumstance, this would have been a joyful reunion. But this... If not for the sight of the bodies then for the look of hunger in his eyes, the long strings of viscous spittle hanging from his mouth, foaming at the edges.

“I had to do it.” Tyr said, voice cracking, manic and unabashedly insane. “I had to. I had to do it. They needed to die. I needed to kill them. I had to do it. They were impure. Unjust. I had to do it. Kill them all. I killed them all, Benny. I did it. I won. I killed them all. I've cleansed them, they are clean now.” He laughed, a cackling and maniacal laugh far past the point of madness. It made them all flinch, with Girshan and the others yet conscious drawing their weapons with white knuckled grips. Throughout it all, Tyr continued to laugh. Cackle, more appropriately. “I'm so hungry. So, so hungry. I needed them to die, they needed to die.”

“Tyr!” Girshan groaned, there was a thing about a fight. It wasn't that these priests were killed, it was the state they'd been left in that made him sick to his stomach, some had clearly been long dead and he'd continued his debauchery. Carving unknown symbols on their flesh and leaving some hanging on the walls, arms splayed like scarecrows on the pillar of deactivated mana towers. “What have you done...?”

“I needed them to die. No, they needed to die. I had to do it. I had to kill them. I won. I had to kill them. They needed to die. They were impure. I did it. I won. I won!” He cackled again, even more wild than before. Jura stared at him, jaw hanging loose and open. Tyr was cracked in the head. Beyond any kind of insanity she'd ever seen in a man. He was wholly unrecognizable form the person he was before. Both in appearance and behavior.

“Tyr...” Jura lowered Yana to the ground before leveling her spear.

“I had to do it. Please, Jura. Please believe me.”

She shook her head. “This is madness. Just lower your weapon.”

“I can't do that.” He replied, choking back his stitching laughter. “I can't stop it. I have to stay. It is my destiny. Please...” Laughter became choking sobs of mad mourning. His betrayal too much for him to handle, coming to face it. “Please...”

“I...” Jura's voice cracked as well. “You've done a terrible thing, Tyr. But it doesn't have to get worse. We can leave this place, together. You and I, and I'll forgive you. Please, Tyr. Lower your weapon.”

“I can't do that.” He repeated. “Leave here. I don't want to hurt you. I'll try not to kill you, please just leave.” Tyr sobbed, crying freely but only from a single eye, shaking violently. “If you're not with them, you're against them.”

“Who!?” Kirk shouted angrily. “Who has done this to you, my brother?”

“Gods. So many gods.” Tyr croaked. “All around us. Feeding. So many strings on me. I hate them!” He shouted, angry now, flitting between emotions as a visible pace. “I hate them! I want to kill them too! But they've got my strings! All my strings. So many strings, and the eyes! The eyes are all around me! Please...” He sobbed again. “Please...”

“What do you want?” Abe asked. His face was grim. This Tyr was like a beacon, there was so much power flowing through him that it made it impossible to see to his inner nature. He could not say with any certainty that this was the Tyr that he knew. He burned like a sun, causing all the mana sensitive personnel in their party to cringe away and itch at their skin.

“I want to die.” Tyr replied. Now, there was no emotion. No madness. A brief flicker of rationality settled on his face. “Please, Abrath An'stavid. I wish to die.” And then, the insanity again. “All these strings, they tear at me. My destiny, my destiny they keep WHISPERING IT! I hate it. I want to die! But I had to do it, and I have to keep doing it! They won't let me go! Why can't I die!?” Tyr howled, tears pouring freely from his eyes as he chokes and sobbed, shaking at the knees. “I am in so much pain. All this pain. A million years and a thousand times and all its ever been is pain. I don't want to do this anymore. She had her strings in me. The hooks. The nails. They hurt. I CUT THEM FREE BUT THEY KEEP A HOLD OF ME! So many of me, so many strings. Pulling at me. Strings, strings, strings.”

He paused. Again, still in the face. “Free me from this curse. Or leave. Or die. Three options, all as fair as you'll ever hear.” Madness again. “Flee, flee, flee. Little mirrors and they're all broken, raining glass in my EYES UNTIL I FEAR THAT THEY WILL BLIND ME SHOULD I BLINK! Little mirrors. All these strings. Kill me, kill me, kill me!!!” Tyr cackled with laughter. His body shook, but not with the exclamation. He was resisting it. That compulsion that made him see red. Girshan could feel it, the faintest presence of a nascent aura and it wasn't violent or mad at all. It was cool, composed, perfectly in control. No violence whatsoever. Just an end, death and a stillness to all things. This thing they called life clawed at it, pained it, caused it tremendous and eternal agony. And it was gone again before he could see much more. Slapping his senses away, refusing to be observed.

“This...” Benny was conflicted. The Tyr before him was not the Tyr he knew. He was a broken, haunted facsimile of his brother.

“You trust me, don't you Benny?” Tyr asked, begging. Pleading. “Help me. Help me, please. I cannot die, but we can end this. Together, we can end this. Clean. We have to make it clean again. It's all broken and shattered. Order is a lie. Light is a lie. Twelve eyes and a billion strings and a million little shards of glass. All my mirrors are cracked and the eyes are all over. Watching me... Together we can fix this. Please believe me. I had to kill them. All those strings. I cut their strings. No more strings for them, they are free now! But I'm full of them and I cut and cut and I'm never free.”

“I know, brother.” Benny replied softly, drawing his axe and turning it on the others instead of the man in front of him. With grit teeth, and predatory eyes, he joined Tyr at his side. “Together, then.”