Based on what Líaden told me, I understood nothing of what he said.

Does that make sense?

Maybe, maybe not. His lecture devolved into a sludge of big words I couldn't understand, phrases I didn't get. I tuned out for most of it. The only thing I can say for certain is Elden is part of a world that's part of a system of many worlds in a realm that's part of a system of many realms.

Total nonsense, I know. But it was my fault for asking. Although, I didn't know he would go on about astrology, which, he said, was the study of the stars. I didn't bother asking what stars were, in fear he would go off on another tangent. Unluckily, he gave one without prompting, talking about how when he was a boy, his mother used to teach him about the sky and space beyond and blah blah blah.

Eventually, I got him to talk about the [Dark Witch] and her powers. He didn't know much, however.

"She uses dark magic," he said glumly. "She can call up the dead with enough time and bewitch innocent souls into working or loving her. It doesn't help that Kox are naturally beautiful, any male, whether Dullahan or human, is trapped by her feminine charms."

He tapped his helmet. "Mind protection enchantments aren't cheap, but they're worth it if you want to fight her. I dabbled a little in the art so I might be able to hook you up, sir."

I shook my head. "No need. Whatever her 'feminine charms' are, I'm immune."

His eyes squinted at me doubtfully. "As far as I know, homosexuals aren't resistant to neither her body nor her magics."

Did he think I was one of these 'homosexuals'? I wasn't attracted to men. My loyalties were for the keep and the keep only. "I'm just not. Is her only talent dark magic?"

"I believe she doesn't fight in melee range. That's what her minions are for; they fight upfront while she poisons us with her demonic energies."

"I haven't seen any walking dead during my time here," I replied. "Well...except for that old crone back in the donjon...."

Líaden made a groaning sound. "I hate fighting the undead...Did she smell like rotting flesh?"

"No. More like jasmine."

"I-I beg your pardon, sir?"

"She smelled like jasmine. Like the flower?"

He flipped his visor down and held his head in his gauntlets. The dullahan was making weird, chuffing noises, almost like he was crying. Did they cry? They didn't even have real eyes. Just glowing dots floating around in those helmets.

"Hey," I nudged him with my foot. "Are you crying? Can you cry?"

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"No, sir," he mumbled, his quiet voice muffled further through his hands. "I'm letting out my frustration the only non-violent way I know how."

You should learn that, by the way. Might make you a little less stabby when you meet new people.

I scoffed at the voice. Why should I? I was perfectly fine. It wasn't my fault the people I meet were wary of suspicion. Maybe they should try to be a little more Human and I could trust them more.

That'll solve it!

Right.

Líaden stopped chuffing and took a deep, long breath. After exhaling, he dropped his hands. "Sir," he started, "undead don't smell like flowers."

I shrugged again. "She looked too old to be alive."

"That's...that's not-you know what, it doesn't matter." He slapped the sides of helmets, disturbing the dust that had settled on it. Grimacing, he said, "We've got to find a way out of here. Do you know it...Actually, I never caught your name, sir."

"Flake."

"No last name?"

"I never chose one."

He paused. "You chose your own name?"

"That's what I just said, yeah."

"You...don't have parents?"

"What does that have to do with getting out of here?"

"I was just-nevermind. Um, I'm guessing that means you don't know the way?"

"Nope."

Sighing, the Dullahan held up his hand, palm up, and said, "Guiding light, don't take me astray; lead me to freedom, to see the light of day."

A ball of blinding white light flickered into existence, floating just above his gauntlet. It spun in a circle, its glow casting shadows on the room around us. "Find the exit," Líaden told it.

The ball obeyed, whisking away into the darkness. It left a trail of fading motes of light behind it. "We've got to hurry, sir," the dullahan said. "It's a rushed spell; the motes won't last for long."

"Help me up," I commanded, holding out my uninjured arm.

He grasped my forearm and hauled me to my feet. I stepped forward and stumbled. My leg muscles ached, still raw from the burning acid. Líaden reached out to take my arm again, but I waved him off. I was still capable of walking unassisted.

"At least let me heal your legs, sir," he protested. "Your condition might get worse if you strain yourself!"

"You can do that after we catch that light of yours."

"I can always make a new one," he said. "Your health condition is more pressing than finding a way out of here."

"Not if what you said about the [Dark Witch] is true," I argued. "She incapacitated me easily; who knows what kind of havoc she's sowing among the keep?"

"You're insane if you think you'll be able to stop her when you can barely walk!" he yelled, flinging an accusatory finger toward my trembling legs.

"That's cute," I said dryly. "You think this'll stop me from doing my job."

The dullahan drew himself up, standing at his full height. He stood five inches taller than me; compared to the female giants, that was nothing. I still had to incline my head to look him in his glowing eyes. "If I have to," he said solemnly, "I will stop you."

Rolling my eyes, I took a tentative step around him. "I'm a [Guard], Líaden. I'll do what I have to do to keep my castle safe, no matter how bad I hurt."

His gauntlet clamped down on my arm, squeezing tightly as he held in place. Scowling, I tried to pull away. "Hands off, mate. I'm only warning you once."

"Sir," Líaden sighed, "I know you don't have much mental capacity-"

"Are you insulting me, dullahan?"

"-but trust me when I say that if you can't beat me now in this state, you'll stand no chance against the Dark Witch. Please, let me heal you."

Please don't tell me you're gonna try and attack him AGAIN. I know you're not the brightest bloke around, mate, but you've got to have a bit of sense in that cracked skull of yours, eh?

"Do it fast," I grumbled.

With a sigh of relief, he poured his golden, glowing 'manna' into me. "I promise you, sir," he said giddily. "Even if you're practically useless in the fight, going against the Dark Witch at 100% increases our chances of success by maybe 10%!"

"And what were our original chances?"

"Ah, maybe 30-35%?"

I punched him.