The castle of Lord Anias was a little unimpressive after all they'd gone through.

The walls were lower than Gel Carn and of a dark gray color. The towers were thicker, and the whole thing was made from large stones. Though the mortar was crumbling, there were scars on the stone. It looked like it had been attacked by arrowheads and stones many times, and there were also signs of burning. Relma guessed these were where attacks had been launched. No wonder Aunt Pan had broken off from the group to pursue another matter.

Aunt Pan had never liked violence or power of any kind. It was an odd quirk she had. She wanted the best for Relma but had different ideas of what that was. Aunt Pan had always felt power was a curse that no one ought to desire. Relma, though, wanted power to help others. So Aunt Pan had been teaching her at last, and she'd had to work harder than ever.

There was so much Relma did not know. She had to catch up on so much because of Aunt Pan's sheltering. And Relma could not quite find it in herself to not hold a grudge about being held back by it all. Though she knew that wasn't entirely fair. Estela had told enough stories about the Escorian Civil War to know Aunt Pan had a point.

Power could corrupt.

Relma remembered her lessons beneath a beating sun as she walked within the castle's shadow. The Black Marshes, which she could see in the distance over the fields, were home to many satyr tribes. They had been enemies of Gel Carn for centuries and fought many battles. Relma's own father had fought in them and been a hero.

Flies were out in force, and she felt sweat dripping down her brow from days of travel. The journey had been uneventful. However, she had seen many farmlands here and noticed the people were unhappy. The water receding had made it all the worse, and getting any at all was very difficult. They were perpetually parched and sore from the journey, and Relma was sick of it.

But there were no satyrs within sight of the farmlands today. The village was bustling, but they were given a distrustful eye as they walked. When they finally reached the large, two-story inn, Reginald went out to meet them. He was a tall, lean man with orange hair and a crooked smile. At his side was a sword with the serrated style that the De Chevlons preferred.

"Estela, there you are," said Reginald. "It took you long enough."

"We had one or two delays," said Estela. "Where are the others?"

"Varsus is reading in the inn," said Raynald, motioning. "His men are drilling in the militia training yard. Though the locals weren't happy about the fact."

"Why did he even need to stay at the inn?" asked Relma. "Couldn't he request shelter from Lord Anias?"

"Lord Anias is not what you could call a pleasant companion at the best times," said Reginald. "Varsus decided it would be best to stay at the inn."

"Well then, where did he get the books?" asked Estela.

Reginald shrugged in a long-suffering way. "He brought his own."

"Who takes books on long journeys?" asked Estela. "Especially to a place like this."

"Varsus does," said Reginald with a shrug. "They're enchanted against the elements, obviously. He paid a lot of money for that."

"So what are you doing out here, Reginald?" asked Estela.

"Watching for you," said Reginald. "Where's the half-demon?"

"Quarter demon," said Relma.

"What?" said Reginald.

"Ajax is a quarter demon," said Relma. "A quarter wolf and half... well, I'm not sure if he's half-human. I think he is. But he might be half something else." Estela looked at her, and Relma felt self-conscious under her gaze. Estela was beautiful, and Relma did not like that kind of look of disapproval. "Did I get it right?"

"Relma," said Estela.

"Oh, sorry. I uh... forgot I'm not supposed to speak," said Relma. Oh, right, she was a squire, not a knight. She'd gotten used to adventuring as an equal with Estela when she and Ronald came to rescue her from Ajax. Relma had almost been the leader then, so being outranked now was odd.

Especially since Relma was the highest-ranking person here. Even if Estela would never admit it. What was so important about rank anyway?

Reginald sighed. "Fine, where is Ajax?"

"He went on ahead," said Estela. "It turns out these satyrs who have been mustering are taking orders from Lucius. The father of all humans and satyrs. He wants to see what it's all about."

"Right, of course," said Reginald. "I'm fairly certain satyrs and humans are a different race. And their fathers are long dead."

"Well, how do you explain this?" asked Estela before walking over to the well. Plunging the bucket into it, she drew it out and raised it. Turning it over, nothing came out.

Reginald blinked. "...You pulled a bucket out of a well. Is that supposed to prove something?"

"No, it's not the bucket," said Estela. "I lowered it down into the well, but the water receded as soon as I did. We've been putting up with it for days now."

"I don't buy it," said Reginald. Then he lowered the bucket, drew it out, and poured the water back in. "See, I just got the water easily."

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"I know!" said Estela. "It just happens to us! Lucius has turned the spirits against us."

"Well, Relma's the Heir of Kings, isn't she?" asked Reginald. "Can't she just ask them to help her?"

"That isn't an option, Reginald," said Varsus, coming out of the inn. He was taller than Reginald, with blonde half to halfway down his neck. He was clad in white and bore only a dagger.

"Varsus, I see you've gotten out of the study," said Reginald. "Why isn't it an option?"

"The Heir of Kings has inherited an affinity with the spirits of the land," said Varsus with a shrug. "One that has been passed down to them through their descendant, Anoa the Bright. Anoa gained the allegiance of the various spirits through his deeds in their honor.

"That was one of the reasons Harlenor was so prosperous under his reign and that of his descendants."

"Cut to the chase; this book lore doesn't interest me," said Reginald.

"The chase, so to speak, is that Lucius has similar authority," said Varsus. "But Lucius' authority was given to him at the beginning of all races. Anoa's was gifted far later in light of services rendered. Lucius' authority thus trumps that of Anoa's. Much less Anoa's heir.

It's the difference between loyalty to a friend and a king."

"Someone can rebel against a king when he's wrong, though," said Estela.

"A just point," said Varsus. "It isn't a perfect metaphor. I'm certain Lady Pandora could tell you more."

"I could," said Aunt Pan, reappearing. "Though I am surprised at how well you grasp the subject, Varsus.

"You are right, Relma. The spirits could rebel against Lucius' authority. In fact, they have in the past. However, he is immensely powerful, and they fear him. If Anoa the Bright himself were to ask for their aid, they would probably defy Lucius. In fact, that is part of the reason I broke off from the group.

"However, you are largely unproven. Only your bloodline gives you authority."

"Well, how am I supposed to prove myself to all these spirits?" asked Relma.

"It took Anoa the Bright decades," said Aunt Pan. "And he did things to get it, which haunted him long after."

"Look, are we calling this quest off or what?" asked Reginald.

"No, we're still going through," said Estela. "The money I won from the tournament needs to get to Escor, and I'm not giving up, whatever the opposition.

"Of course, until Ajax gets back, we can't go anywhere. He's our guide."

"Well then, we have time for a drink," said Reginald. "I don't suppose you'd use some of your winnings-"

"No," said Estela.

"But there is plenty," said Reginald.

"And I want it to stay that way," shot back Estela.

"Fine, do you want to get a drink with some money that isn't destined for Escor's coffers?" asked Reginald.

"Why not?" asked Estela, hoisting her pack. Relma had wanted to take some of the weight, but Estela had insisted on carrying her winnings. No one else could touch them.

"While you are doing that, I will commune with the spirits," said Aunt Pan. "Come with me, Relma."

"Why can't I go with them?" asked Relma.

"You will need to learn to commune with spirits sooner or later," said Aunt Pan, leading her away. "It would be better if you started now."

"Alright," said Relma. Then she paused and quickly ran up to Varsus. "Wait, where is Fayn? I heard she was doing mercenary work in this region."

"Oh, she went scouting in the marshes two days ago," said Reginald. "Some quest or other for Lord Anias. I told her it was stupid, but she didn't listen."

"Is she alright?" asked Relma.

"How should I know?" asked Reginald. "If you go into those swamps and die, no one ever finds your body."

"Now, Relma," said Aunt Pan.

Relma followed. She could hardly complain about having lessons now.

Aunt Pan led Relma to the outskirts of the village and made for a hill. At the top was a series of standing stones with a table at the center. Three circles of smaller stones were around, and Relma nearly tripped over one. All of them were covered in green moss, and a buzzing was in the air. This was a place of power. And it was at the very border of the swamp, Relma could smell the stagnant water.

"What is this place?" asked Relma.

"An ancient shrine to spirits," said Aunt Pan. "One of few remaining. Many were torn down by an old Stewardess of Gel Carn."

"Now, Relma, the first thing you need to understand is this: Spirits cannot be controlled," said Aunt Pan. "Some sorcerers, like Rusara, believe in dominating their wills to bend them to your own. However, such relationships are always unstable.

"They rarely last.

"I prefer to speak with the spirits and establish a dialogue of sorts," said Aunt Pan. "All spirits want something. Fire spirits want to consume the world around them. Water spirits desire to flow swiftly and without stagnation.

"What spirits desire is based largely on what the spirit comes from."

"So how are they different from demons and angels?" asked Relma.

"Spirits have their source in this world," said Aunt Pan. "Demons and angels have their source in the world beyond."

"So does that mean demons and angels are the same?" asked Relma.

"That is a difficult question," said Aunt Pan. "It would be more accurate to say that they are opposite sides of the same coin. Angels define themselves in service to divine law. Demons define themselves by their opposition to that same law. Or at least that would have been the case at the beginning of things."

"What changed?" asked Relma.

"Hell came under new management," said Aunt Pan. "Elranor engineered a rebellion that saw the Demon King, Diabolus, overthrown. His spirit was cut into seven pieces and stored within seven gem shards worldwide.

"His children, the Seven Demonic Archons, then began ordering things as they saw fit.

Baltoth, Lord of Pride, sought to rule over mortals and use them to bring his dominion to bear over all the worlds. To that end, he overthrew Valranor, the God of Order, and took his domain.

"Lucius was one of the Demonic Archons, having been invested with the domain of Envy rather than born of it. He has created all manner of undead creatures. They feed on the living and seek to tear down what others have built.

"Zigildrazia, the Lady of Sloth, began forging machines and tools. Coinfurth forged coinage and began establishing merchant domains throughout the world.

"Fortenex, Lord of Wrath, delighted in sewing discord among the mortal races. Eventually, he merged his power with the dead god, Kreshlak. Then there was Amysta, Lady of Lust, who married Fortenex. Together, they sewed discord among mortals, tempting them to sin. At least until Zigildrazia killed her sister and took her domain."

"So the Lady of Sloth works in a forge?" asked Relma.

"Yes," said Aunt Pan. "Zigildrazia is perhaps the greatest forger in all the worlds. Rivaled only by Barden and Vrengar of the Dragon Empire."

Relma frowned. "...How does that fit her domain?"

"Well, if you think about it, the purpose of tools is to make work easier," said Aunt Pan. "And require less effort. So she expends some effort now to do less later."

"And overthrowing her sister?" asked Relma.

"Being able to seduce people lets you get them to do things for you," said Aunt Pan. "Or so I assume."

"This doesn't seem very consistent," said Relma.

Aunt Pan smiled. "Well, hypocrisy is a sin.

"Last of all, there is Typhos, the Archon of Gluttony. From her came forth all the monsters of the world. And it was she who sewed chaos into strands of fate.

"The point is that the demons these days have become pragmatic. They realize that a policy of pure evil will lead to their inevitable defeat. So they are far more pragmatic about things."

"So why do you hate them?" asked Relma.

"Because it's a front," said Aunt Pan. "Yes, they behave moderately better than the old demons. But at their uttermost source, they live to spread wickedness and destruction. No matter how many deals they honor, their objective has stayed the same.

"Father and I go out of our way to cut them out of the loop."

"You made a deal with Telix," noted Relma.

"Yes, but Telix is half spirit," said Aunt Pan. "And his children are even less than that. Sometimes, you have to compromise your principles to avert greater destruction. This was one such time.

"Either way, we should begin to commune with the spirit of the swamp."

"So, is there a ritual?" asked Relma.

"Don't be silly," said Aunt Pan before looking toward the swamp and standing tall. "Hello, Ranush; it has been a long time, hasn't it?'

The swamp's water shifted into the shape of a lion's head. It rose out of the water and eyed them carefully. Then it spoke; its voice was the gurgling of a stream and the flowing of a brook.

"That it has, Pandora. Yet we have been cast as enemies in the games of gods."

"May I ask why?" asked Aunt Pan. "I do not wish to be your enemy."

"Lucius has commanded it," said Ranush. "And I dare not cross him. He has given orders. I will plague her companions should the Heir of Kings cross the Black Marshes. I shall do so with diseases that she might be taken easily."

"The Heir of Kings stands before you," said Aunt Pan. "Did you not make an oath to Anoa the Bright?"

"I did," said Ranush. "But that was long ago. And I also have an oath to Lucius, whom I fear more."

"Ranush, I must cross the Black Marshes," said Aunt Pan.

"Then I must stop you," replied Ranush.

"Can I prove myself?" asked Relma.

"What?" said Ranush.

"Lord Ranush, I am Relma Artorious, Heir of Kings," said Relma. "I wish to prove myself worthy of your trust. Set me a task, and I will see it done."

Ranush remained silent for a moment, and at last, he spoke. "Very well. There is a part of these marshes where my waters have become stagnant. The water no longer flows. Break that which blocks it, and I shall let you pass."

Then, the water faded and returned to normal. Aunt Pan looked to Relma. "Well done, Relma."

"I thought you'd be upset for me speaking out of turn," said Relma in surprise.

"Spirits don't respond well to people doing things because they were told to," said Aunt Pan. "If you make them an offer of your own will, it means much more.

"Now, we ought to finish this quickly."

"We're going right now?" asked Relma.

"Of course," said Aunt Pan. "I want to head through the Black Marshes soon. And we can't wait for tomorrow."

So they were off.

At last.