Lady Elara’s green eyes looked up and down at half of her assassins. Three had been pre-eminently successful, while three could not have failed in a more extreme manner.

“Nina, your task was the softer target!” She hissed, gripping the cold hand of her slain assassin.

“My lady, we did everything as you’ve taught us, we scouted the monastery for weeks! Walked it’s halls. But they had a master of shadows! He arrived at dusk, after we’d already moved into position. They concealed him within an earth magi’s room, a dark man. One of the Khereshi paladins by his look. He overpowered my own shadows and threw me out, even chased me through the shadowwalk–”

Elara whirled, slapping her across the face.

“Idiot! What a bald lie! Chased you through a shadowwalk? That’s not even possible! To even attempt it he’d need to be a grandmaster! And this hidden high master just happened to hiding in the church’s sock drawer! Did you even practice the lie?” Shouted Elara.

Adelanea winced, closing her eyes. Fully expecting another blow.

“My lady, she tells the truth, I saw him emerge from her own shadow. Adelanea slew nearly a score of our targets before encountering the shadow mage. It sounds preposterous because it is! The damn mage was an elf, I’d recognize those wind blades anywhere. Highlit his ears too. Broke my shadowshield and forced Adelanea and Beatrix back. Bea had to use Nyx’s dagger to teleport away, then they shadowwalked twice after to be sure-” Said Nina.

“Two scores of targets slain? List them.” Ordered Elara, producing a list and slashing through names as they were reported.

The sum, listed by classification, was fourteen Knights Templar, twenty four paladins who were fiercely loyal to Saint Liam’s goals, two felinid magi though their race could not be ascertained, and another score of felinid conscripts. The last was barely worth mentioning, they were collateral damage, unintended targets that Elara considered an unpaid bonus, though she’d have to check for fleas later. Elara checked her list, running her tongue across her teeth as she tallied their victories against failures.

“You had four primary targets. The Vere bastard, Lord Bishop Pembroke, the chief financier, and the first captain of Talocandel.” She said, noting that not a single one of them was on the list.

“I poisoned the financier’s water, there should be a half dozen additional deaths tomorrow. It was meant to be a cover, kill off a few random targets to conceal our aims. Mistress, I swear I nearly had Pembroke as well! But the earth paladin and his pet werewolf, a damn champion! Chose that very moment to meet the Lord Bishop. When Adelanea and Bea shadowwalked away I had to expose myself early, and Tezcatlipoca’s dagger doesn’t work against champions. You’ve never trained us to fight werewolves, and he bested me. I have no excuses.” Said Nina, hanging her head in shame.

“Bah, dumb bitch. I never taught you to fight them because they’ll kill you. Champions counter our every skill, and a werewolf counters our poisons and subtler arts. You should have reported his presence immediately! No matter, we’ve crippled the church. And tested our weapons. I hadn’t meant to test these so soon, but here goes…” Said Elara.

She approached Beatrix’s lifeless body. Retrieving one of artifacts from King Aldric’s vaults, to a casual observer it appeared to be a simple box of ancient olivewood. Carved into a smooth roughly civic rectangle. The copper latch was lifted, and Elara withdrew one of the odd teardrops with a too long tail, then opened Beatrix’s mouth. Upon seeing a corpse open to it, the teardrop came to life, suddenly squirting in a frenzy to fill the corpse.

“Oh gods.” Whispered Adelanea.

Nina was too cautious to speak. Or move.

The teardrop wiggled it’s way down Beatrix’s throat, like a life giving sperm of darkness. Her body began to twitch, the wound through her heart and torso sealing. First with shadows, then with pale flesh. She twitched, jerking oddly. Then she laid still. Unmoving.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Asked Adelanea.

“We’re the first to open this box in a thousand years. I have no fucking idea.” Elara answered.

Beatrix’s gasped for air, making the three other women jump in alarm. Her bloodred eyes shot open, blood flowing out of the whites as she stared around them. Then she screamed. Wailing so loudly that everyone covered their ears, and just as abruptly she stopped.

“Aw, what the hell Bea!” Snapped Nina, watching as the woman groped her chest wound, feeling the new flesh.

Bea was panting, ferociously gasping for air as if she had risen from hell itself and was struggling to trust her rebirth.

“What- ah- what did you do to me?” Gasped Bea.

“The teardrops of Tethys.” Said Elara with a shrug. “Legends say they can bring the dead back to life, though it takes seven years for them to fully work their magic, upon which time they’ll, come back up.” Whispered Elara, running a finger from Bea’s chest wound up her bosom, over her throat, and under her chin.

“I have seven years to live?”

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Elara held the box open, reading the ancient notes carved into the lid aloud.

“One drop will heal any injury, even death.

Only that injury.

NEVER TAKE MORE THAN ONE!

Well, that’s clearer than the legends. They say Tethys’ tears will cure any ailment. Though once seven years have passed, the magic loses its effect and must recharge. I’m assuming you’ll continue to live, so long as you don’t die again.” Said Elara.

Beatrix curled into a ball, her hand holding her throat.

“Bea, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you alright?” Asked Nina.

The woman shook her head once. Nor would she ever speak of where she had gone or what she had seen. For there was only one answer. Bea had seen Pandora’s true face, she had been dragged to the deepest pits of hell and reforged by Pandora’s whims and whiles into a wretched thing.

—

Liam found himself and the Khereshi Paladins at the gate of the royal college, a fortress meant to support their education and contain any magical mishaps that might occur. Protection that had clearly failed it. The bodies were visible from the main gate, despite Aldric’s royal knights watching the entrance.

“Hold, the church has no business with the college today.” Said a knight with silver epaulets.

He was likely some lieutenant or captain, but Liam had never been good with ranks. They were almost as annoying as the two flies buzzing around him.

“Dumb gnats.” Muttered Liam, making both flies explode with their own personal bolts of lightning.

Like a super accurate bug zapping laser pointer.

“Sorry, I missed what you said. Could you repeat that?” Asked Liam.

The officier’s jaw was hanging open. “Lightning Lord Liam died fighting Pandora!”

“Yes he did, I’m Lightning Lord Alhusam.”

“Alhusam? Stormblade? Thank Taloc you’ve come to save us!” Cried the officer falling to his knees and groveling at Liam’s feet.

Supplicants like this had become common enough that Liam knew the swiftest way to answer them. He backhanded the officer, slapping him just hard enough to knock him down. Then walked away, not stopping to explain anything as he mentally swept the college.

Everyone was dead. Even the damn horses and pigs had been murdered in their sleep.

“Damnitall, get these pigs to a butcher, this is a criminal waste of bacon.” Said Liam.

He hadn’t meant to be dark, only meaning to salvage something from this disaster. But Owen cracked a laugh and Velena, still wearing her absurd dress, chuckled.

“Colder than ice, remind me that you need your beauty sleep, otherwise you turn into a destroyer of cities.” She said.

“I found your sister. But your grandpa is dead. Same with your father.” Said Liam, dropping a philosophical bomb. “There are no magi still alive in the college, I can sense a few of their experiments, and a few servants trapped in the walls, but every mage here is dead.” Said Liam, marching through the college and scanning it.

“They’re all dead?” Gasped Owen.

“I- I have a family?” Whispered Velena.

“Yep, Velena Vere, of the Vere Mark. But you might have to kill your sister if you want the title. Not a big deal right now. You’re coming to Greenwood first anyways. You won’t have to make any big decisions until we take a trip to visit Moriel Nekohiro.”

“Mori-eel cat hero?” Muttered Owen, butchering the name into the Khereshi equivalent of dark kitty hero queen.

“What a stutter.” Said Liam, bending over to examine a slain mage’s corpse.

Perfectly straight slash ran across his throat. Both carotids and jugulars had been severed in a single attack. This man had been lucky, probably never even felt the steel’s bite. Similar precision marked the corpses, but they held little interest for Liam. Though he was careful to seek out and slip magical items, staves and weapons to his Paladins.

“Francois will have to abandon Talocandel. No way he can fill in the magi’s role and his own. If he’s dumb enough to stay then Aldric will let the church bleed instead of his own forces. Bastard. How many artifacts did he give the church?”

Royal knights made themselves very scarce at Liam’s open heresy. No wanting to be anywhere near the Lightning Lord.

“Ah, it seems we received a thousand and a half artefacts, or thereabouts, and the other forces… nearly ten thousand.”

“Damn fool. Tell Francois to abandon Talocandel with all haste. I want the southern road secured. We’ll conserve the crusade’s armies there and cede the most violent territory to the monsters. It’ll be a pain in the ass, but we’ll have to maintain a two nation approach. Greenwood in the North and the southern states. Starvation is the bane of all enemies, so we’ll protect the richest farmland first. Owen, I hate to require this of you, but I’ll need an earth mage of your calliber to bring the other road crews up to par.”

“Ha, do you take me for a lazy man lord?” Said Owen.

“You do snore terrible loud. Vibrated the whole wagon on our way north.” Said Liam, scratching his stubble.

Well, it was more than stubble, he was rocking a full beard now, coming up on two inches in length.

“Twerp.” Muttered Owen. “Four Legions already have sages who are repeating our powerlevling. They should be able to connect every fortress from here to Vere within a month.”

“Then that is how long Francois has to empty the church’s treasury. He should probably buy all the magic items he can, real stealthy though. Keep it on the down low, like buying weed for the professor.” Said Liam.

Velena’s eyebrows knit together.

“Lord, you’re doing it again.”

Liam ignored her, tossing her a ring with three rubies in it. Still warm from the dead man’s finger.

“That ought to boost your firepower. Pun intended!” Said Liam.

“Elves are supposed to be ancient and wise! Not snarky little tarts!”

“Ancient? Wise? Cmon, I'm only five.” Liam turned to Owen, “What’ll happen first? Velena going gray or me being wise?”

“My lord, you’re already very wise. It’s just, sometimes your jest and glib conceals- ahem, surpasses all wisdom.” Said Owen.

Liam’s mouth dropped in surprise, feigning offense.

“Tis mutiny most fowl! For my chief paladin to serve me crow!”

The trio was quiet for a moment. Allowing their frowns to lift upward into smiles. Somehow managing to find a moment of humor, despite the carnage around them.