The path showed by the vision feels eternal. The landmarks Ethan takes to locate himself move accordingly to him, but the castle's approach is slower. Something alters his perception of distance, but Ethan is convinced that he's getting closer.

The endless landscape of rocks, vines, and Draugrs hypnotizes Ethan like a long road. Remaining focused on his enhanced senses, he daydreams of the consequences of the Wolves appearance.

Their ability to spread their curse with a bite is a danger, especially since they can regenerate. He thinks, 'I hope governments have gathered enough forces to deal with them. … Who am I kidding? As if they would act to snuff them out before it becomes unmanageable.'

Water begins to appear more often, forming puddles and small streams that descend towards their destination. 'If half of the population became a Villager and given a yearly murder rate of around six for every hundred thousand people,' Ethan thinks. 'There could be fifty thousand of them. It would be less because murderers don't stop at one victim, but it could also be more with the changes brought by the system.'

The passage they tread open onto a vast lake. An island stands in the distance, shrouded behind a mist. Ethan can discern tombs on its shores. He ponders, 'Do we need to get to it? But I can't be sure that those waters are safe. It's not even real water.'

A paddle hits the surface of the lake, attracting Ethan's attention. Invisible to predator's sight, he sees a figure approaching on a small boat. Black and dusty rags cover its body, face, and even forms. A smell of rotting meat approaches with it, forcing Russ to cover his nose.

It stands alone in its empty boat. As it approaches, Ethan notices its bark-like skin covered in moss and fungi. It looks humanoid, but its head is too high, and its limbs seem covered in growths that lift its rags.

"Your pockets are heavy, traveler," the gondolier says in English, its voice wet and deep. It sits down in its boat as it stops on the shore. It moves its hand over the empty part of its ride and summons items from a glowing mist. "May I interest you in my wares? Ethan Reed."

'Stop,' Ethan orders. He leaves Russ behind as he approaches the thing. Mushroom, mush, and mold make its body, yet it feels incomprehensibly familiar. He stares at it in what should be its eyes. "How do you know my name? I didn't sense you using Insight. Did you have another way to discover it?"

"I am Decay, a servant of Kaliathra," it answers. The revelation makes Ethan ponder. It seemed as if this place wasn't hers but rather a creation based on Earth's myths. "Though our meeting here is none of her designs, I know your name for it echoes in her realm."

"Is this her realm? I thought we were still on Earth." Ethan asks. "It seems quite different to the place she summoned me to."

"This isn't your world, nor the one you visited. This is a halfway point, an ephemeral place I can reach because of its link to our essence," Decay explains.

"Then why are you here? To sell wares? It seems unfitting of someone of your name," Ethan asks, curious. "One could think that you are a danger to them, something that would want to infest them."

"The nature of things is to die; it doesn't have to be today." Its voice carries a sense of authority, like that of a teacher. "I'm only here to save the souls I can. Those coins you carry hold them prisoner, and I have a duty to grant them eternal rest."

"I'd prefer you to answer my questions rather than sell me wares," Ethan says.

"Ask, and I shall try to help you find answers," Decay offers.

"Russ has been bitten," Ethan begins. Russ whines, reacting to his name. "He is infected with the Curse of Monstrosity, and I need to know how to cure him."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Decays' Ether seeps past the control it exerts on its aura. Though it doesn't move or even shivers, a moan of pain escapes it. A thread whips Ethan's forearm, sending a burning pain into his flesh. For a moment, Ethan senses its Ether as denser than Mount Silverveil's beast. Dizziness takes Ethan, the presence too heavy for his mind. Decay calms his aura, returning it to its unreadable state.

"I cannot answer your question, for I was commanded not to. Only a god may loosen my tongue," it answers. Ethan looks to the side, pinching his lower lip as he ponders if it is too dangerous to try.

"Ans–" Ethan begins in Aetherian. The first syllable of the word spends his Ether, closing his throat as the last threads escape it. Thankfully, unlike an ability, Aetherian doesn't trigger life force exhaustion of its own.

"You are too weak," Decay laments. The comment comes as a confirmation that Aetherian is the key to its knowledge. Ethan replenishes his reserves with the surrounding threads. He tries to absorb more, pushing his limits, but his heart aches and his body expels it.

'The Ether here isn't dense enough to use it to train. And Russ condition leaves me no time for it,' Ethan thinks, his mind racing. He looks down at his hand, clenching it into a fist. 'If I can't gather more Ether, I have no choice but to make it stronger.'

He closes his eyes, tensing his body as he reaches within his memories. He floods his mind with images of the attack Russ suffered, of Tatiana killing Kyle, of the Plague Merchant's victims, and of his father's death. Wrath surges through him, drawing life force from his heart and into his Ether. They swirl together, mixing with one another. As he speaks again, the world quiets, the lights dim, and the clouds freeze. "Answer."

Ethan's Ether escapes his throat in its entirety, flooding the surroundings and Decay. It seeps into its body, vanishing into it. Ethan gasps for air. Despite having used life force to amplify the potency of his Ether, a single world left him empty.

"Life force manipulation leveled up."

"You care more about your companion than about yourself," Decay notes, his tone affirmative. "Contrary to the many other curses, that of monstrosity isn't a mortal's creation. If there is such a thing, only its creator knows of its cure. Her intents in brewing it are a mystery to even the gods, and more than one has lost a devoted follower to it."

Defeat takes Ethan; this is the opposite of what he had hoped for. The hollow feeling due to the lack of Ether turns into a shallowing desperation. He looks back towards Russ, his eyes heavy.

"However, there is a path forward for your companion. One where he embraces his curse without losing himself," Decay continues. Ethan twitches back to the creature. A glowing mist forms in its hand before taking the shape of a vial of dark ooze. Ethan places a finger on it to identify the potion.

Potion of soul purity (S)

This potion restores the soul of its consumer to its natural state, negating any mutations it may have suffered from.

Decay clutches the vial, his fingers making it clear that it is not a gift. "How much coins for the potion?" Ethan asks.

"It is something you desire deeply. My task beacons me to ask for all the souls you can spare," Decay answers.

Ethan puffs at Decay's price. It would be a ruthless salesman on Earth. He asks, "How much should I keep for me and Russ to pass the trials?"

"One each," Decay answers.

Making sure the one belonging to the young man is among them, Ethan summons nine of the eleven coins. The creature opens and extends its other hand, where Ethan places the coins. It stores them in its inventory and grabs Ethan's hand, carefully placing the vial into it. Its flesh yields against Ethan's skin with a cold and sticky touch.

"I had a vision of this place when I was … praying for a cure. Were you the one who called me here?" Ethan asks. Still looking at Decay, he stores the potion in his inventory.

"I did no such thing," Decay begins. "I heard you were blessed with a gift from God, granting you visions of both the past and future. Perhaps it helped you in that regard."

"It was different," Ethan mutters. Worried, he asks, "You know a lot about me, even things I have kept to myself. Should I expect the servants of Seraphel, or the other gods, to have that level of intelligence on me?"

"It is unlikely. You attracted the sight of many by your potential, but they all but one turned their gaze to another," Decay answers. "We, servants of Kaliathra, wouldn't betray her trust; we wouldn't share her words. Without her, we would be nothing."

"I'm I to understand she watches me days and nights?" Ethan asks. A shiver travels along his spine, spiking the base of his skull. "Please do not answer. I'd rather ignore the truth that know she is."

"I leave you to your journey," Decays says as it stands in its boat. It grabs its paddle and floats away. Before vanishing, it adds, "You need to give it to him only after the curse finished its natural progression. No matter how painful it may be for both of you."

"Where should I go next?" Ethan asks loudly for Decay to hear.

"To the castle of the lord," Decay answers. He vanishes into the mist, his voice coming as an echo. "They are waiting."