“Ggghhhh… pffffttthhh... “ Jack groaned and spit the sandy grit out of his mouth where the floor had met his face, then lifted one arm off the ground and waved it in front of his face.

“He’s up,” Erin called the others.

Layla, Rory, and Maggie got up from where they had been sitting, backs against the walls of the narrow tunnel.

“You okay, mate?” Rory stood near the nightbringer and offered him a hand.

“I think the hangover’s not as bad as usual, but fuck’s sake,” he grunted.

“Ah’m sorry, Jackson,” Maggie offered sheepishly.

“I know you got some shit to work out, Maggie, but maybe now’s not the best time?” he rasped, letting his hand fall back onto his chest.

“You need anything?” Rory asked him.

“Mana potion?” the nightbringer replied.

“This is the last one,” the salesman pulled it from his storage.

“Damn. Save it then,” Jack waved the faintly glowing vial of blue fluid away.

He raised his hands and grasped at the air toward Erin and Rory, and the two wordlessly helped him up. The tunnel was uncomfortably silent until Jack steadied himself, then walked over to Maggie and wrapped the dwarfess in a bear hug.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he squeezed again, then released her.

She reached out a hand, but pulled it back, then suddenly pressed herself against Jack and captured the nightbringer in an equally ursine hug, her tricorn hat flopping onto the floor as she buried her face in his breastplate. She squeezed and most of the remaining air in Jack’s lungs whistled out in a “hnnngg”, followed by a hoarse chuckle.

As she pressed her teary face against his armor, she wept quietly, and he simply patted her back and let her work it out.

“You’re too nice, Jackson,” Layla eyed him.

“She’s been in this cave longer than you and me have been alive, put together. I’d say she gets a little slack. After all, you almost got us tortured and nobody’s brought that up since Isenmar,” he winked at her.

The succubus uttered a sputtering series of syllables, then shrugged and marked an imaginary point for the nightbringer in the air.

“Well, I’ll say somethi-” Erin started.

“Nope. You got us nuked,” Jack rebutted.

“Hey, that was totally big noodle,” she growled.

“I’m blameless here. Do I get a say?” Rory cut in.

“Depends,” Jack smirked at him.

“I think she’s doing brilliantly. Fifty years is a lot of baggage to hang onto, and she’s neither tried to get us killed nor beaten any of us up,” the salesman looked at the succubus and the dreadnought pointedly.

The girls both opened their mouths, then shut them, then Layla opened hers again, but caught Erin shaking her head. They exchanged a look, then each marked another imaginary point in the air for Rory.

Maggie had pulled away from Jack during all this and dried her eyes with her sleeve. She leaned down and picked up her hat, taking care to dust off the old leather tricorn.

“Well, if’n erry’one’s arright with how much o’ an ass ah been in the last twenty minutes, ah reckon we can get along ta the shrine now that ah’m done bein’ a twat,” she sniffed and cut a sidelong glance at the other three Chosen.

“Sounds good to me,” Jack grunted again as he leaned down and picked up his rucksack. “Objections? No? Good.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The nightbringer put his back to the others and started walking down the gently graded tunnel.

“Umm, Jack?” Erin called after him.

“Less talk, more walk,” he called back.

“Sweetie…” she hedged.

The nightbringer sighed and turned around.

“Yep?” he ran his hands through his cropped hair.

“You were only out for like ten minutes. We’re supposed to camp here,” she grinned.

“Oh,” he scratched his head, then walked back over and deposited his backpack in the spot he had taken it from.

“So, you guys eat dinner yet?” he bit his lip sheepishly.

“Waitin’ fer you, laddie,” Maggie chuckled.

“I’m not eating, but I’ll take a beer if you’ve still got some, Rory,” he smiled.

“Yeah. Lemme pass out dinner and I’ll fetch one up for you,” the salesman replied.

He went about the process of handing out food and drinks, finally returning to Jack with a cold bottle of ale. The nightbringer popped the hatch top and drank a long pull, then sighed appreciatively.

They chatted and carried on for half an hour, ignoring the impending danger ahead. If something had squatted in the shrine, there wasn’t anything they could do about it except kill it when they got there.

But the reality of the situation hadn’t escaped them.

They each dealt with the weight placed on their shoulders in different ways, but as they sat on their bedrolls, surrounded by the cool stone of the dark tunnel, the thought passed through their minds like a shadow at least once.

Eventually, the devil would find them.

“Maggie?” Jack asked.

“Aye, lad?” the dwarf rolled onto her side where she lay on her bedroll.

“How can we beat the devil?” he said flatly.

“Yeh should’nae mention her at all, lad,” Maggie grimaced.

“Tell me anyway,” his face hardened.

“Ah dinnae know that it’s possible, Jack. Everyone afore you has failed. The Brothers wounded her, but they sacrificed thousands of men and machines, and scorched the earth for a thousand years. And the white bitch still dinnae even die,” she sighed.

“Fine. How did she get so strong?” he pressed.

“Jack, you shouldn’t-” Layla started.

“No. I’m tired of dancing around the fucking subject. I didn’t do this to myself to fuck around. Tell me how to kill her, Maggie,” black fire suddenly burned in Jack’s eyes, then died down.

The others were startled into silence by the nightbringer’s outburst.

“Ah dinnae know, Jack. Ah know Brandon were near the ninth when he fought her fer the last time. When Tyler… when she killed him. Me boy could hurt her, but… lad, yeh have ta understand, she’s nae just… she’s nae just in the tenth, Jack. She’s more. She’s been huntin’ Chosen fer centuries. She’s the reason the great wyrms o’ Covenant dinnae leave their roosts, and slumber in shifts. Ah’d think yeh’d all need ta be in the eighth just ta touch her, but yeh could’nae beat her,” tears began to roll down the dwarf’s cheeks again.

Jack stood up.

“Then we’ll start with that. It’s just fighting progressively stronger stuff, right? That’s all there is to leveling? We just cheat because when we fuck up, we don’t stay dead, right?” he looked down at her.

The dwarf was quiet for a moment, staring defiantly up at the nightbringer, but the hard black eyes slowly eroded whatever kept her silent.

“Aye. If’n ah were ta start aimin’ fer the seventh, ah’d pick out a place where solitary creatures in the upper sixth roamed, and work on lurin’ ‘em away from their territory. Fight ‘em down, then rest up an’ do it again. But if ah were ta make a mistake, or get unlucky, an’ come upon a creature o’ the eighth, it would likely mean me end. Many godhunters have met their ends that way. The Chosen cheat the hand o’ fate. No creature born under Ilani’s stars can finish yeh fer good,” she sighed again.

“Good. I’m going back to the crossing. No more sleep. No more food. No more drinks. No more fucking around. Not until I can punch the devil in the fucking face and watch the smug bitch bleed,” he growled and turned to walk away.

They watched as the nightbringer walked back toward the last intersection, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Do you think we should go with him?” Erin asked.

Jack: If I get myself killed, I’ll message you.

“Cheeky fucker,” Rory whispered.