From the heights of Rollo’s Pass, it was a surprisingly short flight to Häerz Castle.

The fighting had drained his Gnosis, and lacking any innate way of recovering it he decided the best course would be to make a return trip now, before trying to engage with the next Zone. There was also the matter of the rescued children. It wouldn’t do to send them to the castle by themselves, even if the area were clear of monsters.

And so Redmane had to fly carefully, as he carried passengers.

Bartosz hung onto his shoulders, his mop of dark hair blown back in the wind to reveal his beady eyes and huge, toothy grin. Franziska, meanwhile, clung to Redmane for dear life, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Their ‘cat’ Rusty, which was actually one of his Spawn, simply melded back into Redmane’s body for the trip.

The castle grew closer in the distance below, standing above the dark crescent of Midva Forest, which also enfolded the walls of Barograd on its west side. It was the morning of the next day, so mist still clung to the treetops and the sun had only just begun its ascent to zenith.

A fine view. Something most would never see. The wind on his face complemented it well. Bartosz appeared to share his enthusiasm for it, Franziska not so much.

It was difficult to find a simple spot to make a landing. The castle yard was a forest in miniature, with trees growing high above the inner walls. They were so densely packed he had a hard time seeing ground upon which to land, but with a bit of maneuvering he located one, snapped out his wings to create some drag, and angled down for as gentle a landing as he could manage.

As it turned out, the boy Kale happened to be playing the castle yard when Redmane touched down. And he had a friend with him. Redmane recognized her as the little girl among the townsfolk taken captive in Midva Forest.

Bartosz hopped off of Redmane’s back and stood next to him, stuck his pinky claw in his ear to pick it.

Franziska tentatively let go, her knees shaking, and stood stiffly for a moment. Though her eyes remained tightly shut, the corners of her lips curled into a smile, conveying her appreciation for the solid ground beneath her. Redmane knelt and re-Spawned Rusty the cat, who walked over and rubbed his side on her leg by way of hello.

“Lord Redmane!” said Kale. “S’good to see ya! You been out there slaughterin monsters, yeah?”

Before Redmane could answer, Kale pantomimed killing an invisible monster with an imaginary claw. He made all the associated noises, to include blood gushing from a severed limb and the sound of a sucking chest wound. The girl he was playing with laughed.

Redmane looked at her. “I remember you from the forest,” he said. “Didn’t get your name.”

She smiled and said, “It’s Astrid. We’re all mighty grateful for whatcha did for us, Lord Redmane. We’d be dead and gone if it weren’t for you and yer friends.”

He smiled back. “Well met. This is Franziska, and her brother Bartosz.”

Kale and Astrid took in Bartosz’s feral appearance with wide eyed looks. Kale looked up at Redmane. “Milord, you had a kid?”

“Not yet, I pray!” said another voice, that of a grown woman.

The voice belonged to Flora, who approached them with a smile on her face. She carried a basket heavily laden with steaming sweet rolls, golden brown and fresh from the oven.

All of the children’s eyes widened again. Even the shaken Franziska.

As Flora knelt down in front of them to hand out the treats, another Flora tapped Redmane on the shoulder. He turned, blinked. Still not used to the fact that there was quite a lot of her.

This Flora gave him an equally sunny smile. "Hast thou returned to rest and recover, my Lord?"

Redmane nodded.

“Then come,” she said, taking him by the hand. "We shall seat thee at the table in the great hall and see to food and refreshments. I hope my Lord hath brought his appetite!"

He grinned, nodded again. “Always.”

The great hall was as he remembered, an expansive room with high ceilings and huge tapestries covering the walls on the left and right, depicting the history of the Morholts. Three elkhorn chandeliers hung in a row over a long banquet table, and at the end of the hall, at the head of the table, sat the Lord's chair.

Which was his chair now.

By the time Flora had escorted Redmane into the great hall, Flora was already there to receive him at the head of the long table. Two Floras, in fact. One set down a full tankard of honeyed mead, the other placed a plate of cheese fritters and bright blue Magister’s Delight, cut into slices, next to it. They all wore the simple frocks and aprons of kitchen maids, though apparently they didn’t favor shoes.

“Do have a seat, my Lord,” said a Flora.

“Thy dinner comes presently. Thou shouldst not have to wait much longer,” said another Flora.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Redmane sat down and had a taste of the fruit. He closed his eyes, enjoying the cool sensation of Gnosis flowing into his body. He picked up the rest of it and shoveled it home with a quickness, pointed at the empty plate and with his mouth full said, “More, please.”

“At once!” all three Floras said.

Two Floras departed swiftly, and two returned bearing platters laden with Magister’s Delight. The two who arrived couldn’t have possibly gone to the kitchen and back in that time. It was more likely that they simply began down there.

Redmane waited until they set the trays down, but not an instant longer. He scarfed down all the Magister’s Delight as quickly as his hands would move. Flora stood there beaming, not offended in the least.

He side-eyed her, and again spoke with his voice muffled by mouthfuls of food. “Want to eat too?”

"That shall not be necessary, my Lord, but I can sit with thee if thou likes."

Redmane nodded and pulled the chair out. Flora smiled and sat.

No sooner did she do so did another Flora appear from the kitchen, with the main course. A large, steaming trencher of roasted venison stew, with carrots and onions and potatoes, seasoned with fragrant herbs, its savory aroma mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread. Sourdough, with a good firm crust to hold in the stew, and spongy insides to soak up the broth.

He’d consumed much in these furious days. Little of it was appetizing. None of it had been made with care, just for him. The thought gave him a warm feeling in his chest.

Redmane’s first instinct was to pick it up with his hands and wolf it down in two bites, but he thought better of it. There were a number of Floras smiling sweetly at him. So he made an effort to slow down, if only a little. He took the spoon, looked at it curiously, checked to see if he was holding it correctly, and had a bite the way a normal person would.

Her smiles did not waver.

"Dost thou require aught else, my Lord?" she asked.

Redmane thought about it. “More of the blue fruit.”

“At once!”

They brought more Magister’s Delight. Much more. Even after taking his time with the lovingly prepared venison stew, Redmane sat at the table for a goodly time glutting himself on Magister’s Delight, until he was certain he’d restored something like the amount he’d set out with the last time.

Gnosis: 1566

"Wilt thou be staying at the castle for a while?" asked Flora.

"The Lord ought to rest and recover his strength, should he not?" asked the Flora next to her.

Redmane gave it a moment’s thought. “With Rollo’s Pass claimed, I make for the Skalla Mountains. There is a road from that town to a fishing hamlet on the northron coast. From there I travel to the islands of frost.”

“Thou shouldst at least stay the night."

He supposed the look she was giving him had significance. They were all looking at him, identical smiles on their faces. Some would find such a thing unnerving, but Redmane reckoned he was an odd sort himself. It would only make sense if an odd one ended up being his…

Something fragmented his train of thought. He was looking at Flora, and then he looked just past her, to the portrait of Aren Morholt III on the wall behind her. And the portraits of the rest of them.

He’d have these all taken down and burned. But seeing them reminded him of something he’d left here.

“Sorry, but give me a moment,” he said. “There’s something I need to handle while I’m here.”

She gave him a questioning look.

He didn’t know how, but her simple facial expression spoke the entire meaning of it.

She wanted him to stay with her. To be with her. Even if only for the night.

The look gave him pause. He stared back into her verdigris eyes, for how long he knew not. When he caught himself he blinked and shook his head a bit, as if breaking a spell, and she laughed softly.

“I’ll be back presently,” he said. And with that, he rose from his chair and left the great hall.

Bound for the kitchen and larder. and a small cell between them.

Redmane felt a lurch of contempt in his gut. Simply remembering the place existed soured his mood. But remembering the cell’s new occupant took some of the edge off of it.

The cell door creaked as Redmane pushed it open, and Aric Morholt scooted all the way into the corner, his face pale and dirty, eyes red. The flesh around his broken ankle was red and puffy, swollen against the manacle twisted around it.

Aric looked up at Redmane with scorn. Eyes full of fear, full of hate.

It gave him another moment’s pause.

He knew the expression because he knew the feeling.

“You won’t last in here as long as I did,” said Redmane. “Because you’re mortal. If I left you in this hole until you were old and gray, until the end of your days, it still wouldn’t be equal to what was done to me.”

Aric spat on the ground at Redmane’s feet. “I wager you deserved it. Freak.”

Redmane smiled.

Haunt

He raised his hand and the Skill guided him. Something heavy gathered around his palm and fingers, wrist and forearm. He pulled at it, and it felt like peeling up a heavy, tarry substance. It enveloped his hand and arm, sheathing it in the stuff of the Abyss.

“You’d wager correctly. The old me did terrible things. There are oceans of blood on these hands.”

Aric Morholt’s eyes widened slightly. He could see the fear taking over for the hate.

An appropriate reaction.

Be happy the new me is more merciful than he was.”

Redmane pointed, and the Haunt flew from his hand and onto Aric’s face. It landed on him with a slap, like a wet blanket, constricting around his head and shoulders. Aric writhed around, arms straining uselessly against the Abyss-stuff enveloping him, his good leg kicking In the air. At first Redmane heard muffled, panicked shouting.

Aric was still for a moment. As if stopping to see something only he could see. Then the real screaming began.

He folded his arms, stood there and watched and listened.

A part of his mind told him this wasn’t advisable. That making someone suffer like this only perpetuated the cycle of suffering.

He found he didn’t care. Perhaps he’d turn the other cheek someday. But not today.

Redmane observed Aric writhe around on the ground and shriek in fear and pain for a while. He learned nothing of the young Morholt’s fears through use of the Skill, but it was a gratifying show all the same. After a while he went into the kitchen to fetch a bucket of water. He threw it on the Haunt, which soaked Aric from head to toe but also made the Abyssal substance begin to soften and dissolve.

Shaman’s Heal

Gnosis: 1416

He felt his Gnosis pour into Aric’s frame, coalesce around his broken ankle and mend it.

Then he turned and walked out of the cell, closing and locking it behind him.

Redmane found Flora in the great hall, where he left her.

The four of them retired to the Lord’s apartments for the rest of the day and night, interrupted only by more Floras bringing refreshments, when they felt like some. The ones who joined them stayed.

Redmane and Flora were as strangers to each other, but the both of them seemed to share something neither could put words to. Something unnameable, perhaps unknowable, but powerful nonetheless. Their minds were missing pieces, it seemed.

But even in the absence of memory, their bodies knew what to do.