The next day dawned, and the weight of our recent adventures pressed heavily upon all of us. It had left me drained and weary, and we agreed that we all needed some rest before taking on the journey to Lottie. Jaxine, of course, wanted nothing more to leave now, but Iskander soothed her, and made her tame again.

To my surprise, I found out that even I had grown tired over thinking about death, curses, dark magic, and the demonic. For some reason, this discovery disturbed me. It should not have been so. But it did come to pass that we took for ourselves one day of rest, and I found a chance to revisit the Ironworks Bridge. The weather boded well, with the sun bright and warm, and a cloudless sky. There was only a wind that kept getting stronger as the day wore on.

Florencia wanted to visit the ocean, so we went there first.

By the time we reached there, the endless-looking harbor that stretched out on both to our left and right was all but abandoned. There weren’t many who wanted to have a walk in late autumn, with a strong wind. And because of that wind, many smaller ships decided to stay anchored in the harbor. The larger ones, those who could take advantage of it, sailed quickly into the Caffrian harbor.

However, those unfortunate vessels that had to depart from the port had to sail against those tempestuous winds, and struggled to make any progress impeded by the towering waves that relentlessly crashed upon their hulls. The stunning dance of the mighty ships captivated Florencia and me.

After walking around the quay some more, and getting thoroughly taken by the wind’s cold, we went back and found a nice cafeteria beside the Ironworks Bridge. Here, many more people were around, and they sat beside us, almost elbow to elbow, and not a few steps ahead was the busy street where countless passersby went and further still, carriages and wagons drove ahead.

A curious side effect of my exhaustion was that my extra senses were dulled, and I could be among those crowds with very little effort. If I had the powers in their full strength, I’d have to stay somewhere outside of the city.

“It’s funny. Sitting here it doesn’t look like anything is wrong. People are just going around and doing what they’ve always done,” said Florencia while sipping on mulled wine with orange and sweet peppers—one of the few imports from Valden that still came through from time to time. Though, it had cost a whole ten cuenos for a cup.

“They have no idea what was going on under their own nose. How long can this corruption stay hidden?” I said and downed a rather delicious glass of fronsa—cold mineral water with some orange and mandarin peels. Even though the weather was chilly, I wasn’t too bothered by it. I simply popped up the collar of my coat, and the thick woolen fabric kept me warm.

“All they can see is there’s just fewer ships coming in. Less exotic stuff for them to buy. Sometimes, ships go missing or just don’t return, and that’s it. But it’s nothing even close to what some are struggling with.”

I thought it was as good a time as any to talk about all the new information that we found out.

“So, what Pecca told us—” I said, but Florencia interrupted.

“Can we just enjoy ourselves a little longer?” she asked, but more to herself. She seemed to be lost in some fantasy. “It’s nice today. Peaceful. If I close my eyes, I can almost make myself believe none of this… dem—horror is actually happening. That we are just out on a pleasant walk and that we’d later go back home and make some nice dinner. Maybe…”

She gazed up at the cloudy sky, where a faint sun cast its glow. In that fleeting moment, I marveled at how gorgeous she was. It was how the sunlight shone on her face and how she smiled just a little and only for a moment. Then she tucked a loose hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t bother her. She never liked having hair on her face—the tickling sensation always bothered her and she couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Flo, you said back in Bessou that this life that you had with the Lodge, fighting against the demons,” Florencia grimaced at the word, “was your purpose. You said you said you didn’t want to leave it behind. But I sense something has changed.”

“Jonas, my dear, I would let that apartment burn down and not shed a single tear. That was my old life. There’s nothing there that I want, well, maybe for a few things from our time in Cappesand. And back when we had that talk, right after you came back to me, I did want to work for the Lodge. At least… I thought I did. But then, everything changed, and I think I changed. Now? I feel like… No, sorry, I can’t talk about it right now. Can I have time to think about it? Is that alright?”

“Of course,” I said. “If I can help or if you just want me to listen, I’m here.”

“I know…” she said and breathed oud as if relieved. But in her eyes, I still saw that tension, and the thing she couldn’t tell me still weighed on her mind. I hoped it wasn’t because of me that she felt this way. It was, after all, my fault that she got expelled from the Lodge, and then I all but forced her to come with me and do Pitties’ work.

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That must’ve been it, I thought.

But luckily, Florencia didn’t let me follow these grim thoughts and continued talking.

“Anyway, let’s talk about what you wanted to talk about,” said Florencia and brought me back to the present. “It’s about the letter we got in Pecca’s apartment. It said there’s a cult in Lottie called the Zekt. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“Does the name sound familiar—Zekt?”

“Not really…” I confessed.

“Jonas, it has the exact same spelling as Keon Zek! That family name is not from the Lienor language! Neither is it from Szell or Lith or anywhere that I know of. So that a cult has called themselves using the exact same letters? I feel like it’s too big of a coincidence, and there are very few coincidences in our work.”

“But Keon Zek died.”

“Keon Zek demanded a reward from Rufasmos,” Florencia whispered. “His body died, but he welcomed it. Why do you think that is?”

“But people who die, they die, Flo,” I said, not really following her thoughts.

“Do they? What if… what if they don’t? What if Keon actually got his reward, and that he’s not dead, but still somewhere? What if Keon is actually the one this cult worships? How else do you explain that the Zekt—”

“Or it’s a coincidence,” I interrupted her. “I think you’re overthinking this. When we kill those freaks, they don’t go anywhere else. They die. And that’s that. The demons I’ve killed they go back to wherever they belong. I don’t think I’ve ever killed any of them.”

“Jonas, but Keon wasn’t killed. His body decomposed and exploded in front of my—our eyes! Jonas, I’ve been thinking about this a lot. There has to be a reason why Keon welcomed death. And then what the secretary of Scorro did, that doesn’t make sense either. I think whatever creature is orchestrating all of this can offer something greater than death. Or something after death.”

Cursed it, I thought. She was on to something, and I hadn’t even considered it. I couldn’t even imagine what kind of magic or power would do this.

“When you kill the thralls or hosts with your… maul, sure, they die. But when the servants of the demons do these horrible things with blood magic, I think this creature, Rufasmos, can actually gift them something.”

“Or, perhaps this Rufasmos, whatever it may be, simply lied to them.”

Florencia reclined in her chair, her brow furrowing. “Or Rufasmos lied to them…”

As she was pondering over the new ideas, I became slightly annoyed over Goxhandar. He had been silent the whole time, refusing to reveal any information, even though I knew perfectly why this was the case. He had told me many times, and I had asked him many times.

“Master,” said Goxhandar. “It was you who expressly forbade me to reveal too much of the demonic, and I have pledged my word. I have already told you too much. I cannot betray my promise.”

“You’re talking to it, again,” said Florencia.

“He’s not going to tell me anything,” I said.

“He?” repeated Florencia with narrowed eyes.

“Oh, yeah, it felt strange calling him an object,” I explained this strange situation. “And Goxhandar said he was fine with it, even though he hadn’t thought about it before.”

“I still find it… unbelievable that you have another individual living inside your mind.”

“It’s far from anything like that,” I said, but wouldn’t go into that topic anymore. We’ve had that talk so many times already that I grew bored with repeating the same thing over again.

“Anyway,” I said, coming back to the topic at hand. “Back in that cellar, Pecca said that Vranik was ‘The Champion’ and that he couldn’t hide his gifts anymore, and had to leave. But he also said that the gifts were from the ‘Great Lord’, so there’s some entity that gave Vranik his powers, or gifts, or whatever they might be. And when I asked whether Rufasmos was the Great Lord, the demon tore Pecca’s body apart from rage.”

“I think that this means that Rufasmos is the leader, and Vranik is the follower,” said Florencia with a chill in her voice.

“I think so as well,” I replied. But it made sense that these creatures had a leader, or some power that drove them.

“So there’s a hierarchy to the demons, they’re not just mindless beasts,” said Florencia. “If Vranik is Rufasmos’ champion, and Pecca didn’t even mention anyone else by name, does that mean there’s at least three ranks of demons? The Great Lord—”

“Rufasmos.”

“Rufasmos, the Great Lord, and then as it’s champion, Grasd Vranik, and then everyone else. I feel like that’s what we found out.”

“I think so…” I said. “Not a poor job for a few days.”

“You know, you’re right. I don’t know why I felt this awful,” she said, and actually revealed her beautiful smile. “Jonas, this is more progress than I’ve made in almost thirty years. I—I wasted so much time.”

Now she was sad again.

“How could have you known? You tried everything you could think of,” I said. “You can’t find this out from books, or ancient scrolls, or religious myths.”

“And yet, I failed,” Florencia said with a half-defeated tone. “But then again, none of those pompous and self-righteous masters in Cappesand could figure it out, either.”

Her mood was fine again, like whiplash, there and back, and all over the place.

“Only you, Jonas.”

“Yeah, only me, with Goxhandar’s help.”

“Most gracious of you, master, but it was you who taught me everything. I was merely a sentient being, little more than a conscious observer with a fierce thirst. It was you who taught me everything I knew, even the very language and words that I use now. That took a fair amount of time and put a heavy strain on me. You hid very little from me, back in those days,” said Goxhandar.

“I can almost hear him,” said Florencia. “It’s like a cold shadow that comes over you when it talks.”

“It is most unfortunate that she dislikes me so much,” said Goxhandar. “When you told me you were leaving our former home, I eagerly awaited meeting her.”

“She’s jealous of you, I think,” I replied. “That we can speak and she can’t hear it.”

“Oh yes, it is definitely jealously, though I can not understand why someone like her would be jealous of a being like myself.”

“You and me, both,” I told Goxhandar.