Agerkunde, between slow, deliberate bites of bread and sips of cider, took her time continuing the story, much to Julien’s growing frustration. The suspense was killing him; he was both apprehensive and deeply intrigued, barely able to touch his meal as he waited for her next words.

"Well," she finally began, her raspy voice unhurried, "we come from a small village near the Pyrenees - or rather, from its outskirts - where we coexisted, to some extent, with the regular folk. It wasn’t too different from our life here now in all honesty, but that village was my hometown, and I cared for it deeply." She paused, as if recalling the place with fondness before her tone darkened. "Everything changed when a man appeared from one of the many caves in the region."

Arnau’s letter immediately rang in Julien’s mind: small villages, caves, threats emerging from those caves... Could it be that these people had fled the same menace Arnau was determined to defeat? But she called it ‘my kind,’ he reminded himself, growing more silent as he listened intently.

"This man could see our arima, just as you can," Agerkunde continued, "and like you, he had none. His response, however, was far more violent than yours. With an intense fire cast from his hands, he would immolate us on sight, giving no chance to fight back."

Wait… Julien’s mind raced, his thoughts now spiraling. Is the threat here… Arnau? His memory shot back to that moment in Ripollés when Arnau reduced a young goat to ashes with the same fire – and now the pieces were falling into place. Could Arnau be the one they fear? It also seemed seemed clear now that these people came from the very place they were headed toward: Zugarramurdi.

"We know what you are—or at least, we've heard of your kind before," Agerkunde’s face darkened, her expression hardening. "The ones that hunt arima-bearers like us - slashing, stabbing, impaling, burning... The danger we never see until it's too late to act. The ones we’re told to avoid like the devil flees the cross: Enochians."

"You seem quite wary of us," Julien replied, keeping his voice steady, though the tension was palpable, "It surely is surprising you allowed us to remain in your midst at all."

"I never imagined one of you would show any friendliness toward someone like us," she explained, her voice edged with disbelief, "I was told Enochians were cold-blooded monsters - ones who could never empathize with our plight."

Julien's face contorted in confusion: Enochians are clearly not the villains here, he thought. Iric corruption, left unchecked, can drive humans into madness - they're the ones who become cold-blooded monsters. He leaned forward slightly, his curiosity burning. "The things you’ve heard about us... who told you these stories?"

Agerkunde sighed, a smile creeping across her face. Her sharp blue eyes glinted with a strange intensity as they bore into him. When she spoke again, her voice was unnervingly calm. "We're nearing the reason why you may be of interest to us, Julien," she said, her tone calculating, "you see, controlling and harnessing the power of our arima didn’t come to me through dreams or divine inspiration - it was taught. Just like any other skill in life."

The young Enochian raised an eyebrow, now fully engaged. "Taught by whom?"

Her smile widened, a strange mix of pride and reverence crossing her features. "Not by any man or woman, but by a creature made of pure arima, its aura so thick that it nearly blinds me. It came from the caves during a time of great need and guided me along this path."

She paused, her eyes never leaving Julien’s. "I don’t know its name or origin, so I call it the Akerbeltz - the black goat - for the little I can see of it reminds me of the animal."

"A creature of pure arima, you say," Julien repeated, drawing from his knowledge, "he might be an Elioud... or even a Nephilim."

Agerkunde’s expression remained unfazed, clearly unfamiliar with the terms. She simply nodded and continued. "He is well-versed in the arts of arima, and over the years, he taught me everything I needed to know - so much so that I can now pass my knowledge to others who share this gift." A small smile crept across her face. "For that, I will be eternally grateful."

Julien nodded along, though his confusion only deepened. "I beg your pardon, but I still don’t understand why I might be of any use to you. In fact, everything you’ve told me only reinforces why I should be seen as a threat."

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Agerkunde raised her hand, a calm gesture to quiet his worries. "This creature - the Akerbeltz - yes, I am eternally grateful to him," she paused, her tone weakening before she continued, "but he is also capricious, with whims that come and go as fleetingly as a hare’s dash. Our small—now even smaller—community has done its best to comply with his desires, and often we succeed. But some of the tolls he demands for its knowledge... they are starting to weigh on us more heavily than we can bear."

Now Julien was fully attentive, his curiosity sharpening. He had expected a twist in the conversation, but the direction it was taking still caught him completely off guard. He could sense the but lingering in the air, as if it were just moments from being revealed.

"We celebrate two festivities each season - as it instructed us to," her tone grew somber, her voice heavy with the weight of her confession, "and during those festivities, it demands offerings from us: The offerings range from songs of praise, dances, and applause, to outright worship and adoration. Sometimes it demands the sacrifice of animals infused with arima, or grand feasts made from them. Truly, in the few years our community has existed, we’ve been ordered to revere it in countless ways."

"It sounds almost as if a new religion is forming among you," Julien observed, his voice low.

"And, in all honesty, we didn’t see a problem with that," she replied quickly, "the Akerbeltz offered us an understanding of ourselves that no priest could ever provide. We worshipped it - not out of fear - but out of gratitude." Her voice faltered, the weight of her next words pressing down on her, "but lately... its desires have become more sinister. It has taken a liking to something we find abhorrent."

Julien leaned forward even more, a dark suspicion growing within him. "Please, go on."

Agerkunde took a deep breath before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper: "It has developed a cruel fondness for... human sacrifices. Since it resides in dense forests and groves, we perform rituals for it and then send the chosen sacrifices to its den. God knows why, but they never return."

Julien’s eyes widened in shock, his gaze fixed on Agerkunde. "You didn’t… you can’t mean to say you actually went along with this? You didn’t comply for long, did you?"

"Yes, we did," she admitted, her voice tinged with sorrow and shame. "At first, the sacrifices came from within our own community - people who had their arima well under control, offering themselves willingly. But soon, it began to demand more. It wanted people with untamed arima, from outside our community, and then... people with no arima at all. Innocents, unaware of what awaited them. It even told me once that terror made the sacrifice all the more satisfying."

The young Enochian’s eyes burned with a mixture of rage and disbelief as he stared at Agerkunde, for the first time feeling like winning their silent contest of wills. "How can you live with yourself?" He barked, "has your arima poisoned your mind? Have you no consideration for human life?"

Agerkunde, her face shadowed with shame, looked down at the table. "I had no choice..." she murmured, her voice fragile, "because I had a plan."

Julien’s brow furrowed in suspicion. "A plan?"

She lifted her eyes to meet his once again, though now they were filled with a quiet resolve. "I tolerated this for years, gathering as much knowledge as I could so I could guide my brothers and sisters myself. And... eventually, so I could slay the Akerbeltz."

Julien’s expression turned to one of doubt, his voice sharp with skepticism: "It sounds almost too honorable - too convenient - that you would engage in such heinous acts just to free your people."

She lowered her gaze again, but this time, her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her voice trembled. "You... you have to believe me..." she whispered with a fragile and desperate tone, "I succeeded in my first goal – I know enough now to guide my people - but I cannot find a way to kill the Akerbeltz. No matter how strong I become, no matter how much control I have over my arima, its presence alone sends shivers down my spine. I cannot face it... at least not yet."

Julien could see the raw truth in her words, the vulnerability laid bare in her trembling voice. He remained silent for a moment, out of respect for the weight of her confession. He could feel the conflict within her, and for the first time, the corruption that swirled around her seemed less like a glistening stain and more like a burden she carried. Just as he was about to speak, Agerkunde broke the silence.

"That is why I believe fate has brought you to me and my brothers and sisters for a reason," she said, her voice regaining a quiet strength, "you, who I was taught to fear and avoid, might be the answer to my prayers. A different kind of Enochian - one who doesn’t seek to destroy us before asking questions, before getting to know us."

It was strange - almost surreal - to hear that Julien was the answer to someone’s prayers, especially from the mouth of a woman so deeply tainted by iric energy. And yet, she was at least partially right: He was different from others of his kind, or at least Arnau, who would not have hesitated to slay someone like Urraca the moment he saw her corruption; But Julien had stayed his hand, time and again, even knowing the risk. Perhaps Tariq and María were the same, having witnessed Urraca's slow descent and choosing not to act against her either. Maybe Arnau was the different one.

"So, what do you say, Enochian?" Agerkunde’s eyes gleamed now, whether from the same unshed tears or the new sheer determination she emanated. "Will you help me - no, will you help us - rid ourselves of the Akerbeltz?" Her lips curved into a bold, almost daring smile, "isn’t it your duty, after all, to slay such creatures?"