Before we dared to take a short rest, Kastyn and I came upon another human. Soothing as it might have been to encounter something non-daemonic in The Bowels, we could not draw solace from it. He was dead, his eyes glassy and tinged with a broad and consuming madness. His throat was naught but a dried and stringy gore with black teeth to match. Kastyn’s gaze was locked on the man, his face a blending of disgust and melancholy.

‘You know this fellow?’ I asked.

‘Denmarr,’ Kastyn responded, clipped and brisk was his tone. ‘We fought in the militia together, until I was taken as a squire.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘He was a rude, blasphemous, violent drunk – that concoction doesn’t win one many friends.’

I huffed. ‘Good riddance, then.’

‘No,’ Kastyn’s defiant timbre was reflected in the stare he levelled at me. ‘Despite all of that, he was a fierce fighter. He took up his blade not for the province, the lords, nor even the Numen herself, but for the man standing next to him. I often found that man was me.’ His jaw was set hard, as I examined the dead Denmarr. He bore a few scratches and cuts that told of a struggle with the daemons down here, but none of them were fatal. On closer inspection I saw he had bite marks and chunks of flesh missing from his arms, as well as bloodied fingertips with sinew under the fingernails. One ear had been completely removed, while the other was only half cut.’

‘We’re deeper than I thought,’ I said, ‘Your friend wasn’t killed by any daemon, there are signs he did this to himself.’

Shock widened Kastyn’s eyes. ‘Does this place truly inspire such madness?’

‘The world groans, Sir. It is not something our ears were made for. If one were to lose themselves down here with those noises and daemons as their only companions… well, it has an effect on the mind like nothing else.’

We set our supplies and Elinora down about one-hundred paces from poor Denmarr. We couldn’t set a fire due to the enclosed nature of the environment and settled for sticking our torches into the fleshy mud beneath our feet. I set to applying a tincture to Kastyn’s wound. His confusion was evident and I answered his question before it was spoken.

‘It’s Avacane,’ I said. ‘It wards off most infection and some minor curses. What I said earlier isn’t superstition; The dark doesn’t just obscure vision, it impedes the body’s ability to heal and invites disease.’

Kastyn looked worried. ‘This wound – does this mean I am Touched, like you?’

I chuckled. ‘Your soul is safe, Kastyn. A Touching is a rather different type of wound, and one hungry Ferals don’t tend to bother with. You would know if you were.’

The knight sucked air through his teeth as I applied a few drops to his gash. ‘Damn the daemons and damn this place. The sooner we find the altar the better.’

‘Regretting your noble quest?’ I prodded, pulling out a bandage.

Seriousness dawned on him. ‘Never. She’s my responsibility.’

‘Responsibility… That’s a peculiar way to phrase it. Your responsibility is to Lothway, not his daughter. Love does not bind you to a charge of your choosing.’

‘It isn’t love that binds me.’ The knot of muscle in his jaw rocked back and forth. ‘I seek atonement. My duty, my vows to the Numen… They are now riven with hypocrisy.’

I tightened the bandage and set a narrow gaze on the young knight. ‘Explain.’

Kastyn looked at Elinora and began his tale. ‘Eli… If only we hadn’t been ensnared by each other. If there is one thing I would change it would be to not love you.. Otherwise, you would be safe.’ He stroked her hair and she murmured. ‘She was due to marry the son of Lord Mastelle of Ebravale. By all accounts it was a fine match. With Ebravale being the last town before the capital it sees a great deal of trade, and the Mastelles had always been shrewd in their dealings, amassing a great fortune rivalling the Viceroy's. Despite the affection I hold for Eli, I was pleased for her.’

‘How does this lead to her touching, Kastyn?’

‘The engagement was annulled.’

I frowned. ‘Annulled? Strange, Lothway was talking about it like it was still due. I assume it’s either very recent or the man was compelled to keep it a secret for his own ends.’

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‘Indeed. In fact, I had reason to believe that Eli wasn’t safe with her father, loathe as I am to speak ill of my lord. And so, I spirited her away from Langteglos. I am a knight, Vyde. I am not accustomed to travelling the roads with only a single charge and no comrades, and…’ The words were blocked in his throat, his eyes closing tight with the effort of forcing them through.

‘And so you were set upon by a Glace,’ I finished for him. ‘It took you by surprise. While you were resting, I’d surmise.’

Kastyn nodded. ‘I could think of no other recourse but to bring her back, so that Lord Lothway’s resources may be put to use.’ His face was the picture of a bemused sorrow. ‘Why do they do it?’

‘There are theories, the most prevalent being that of the church, it gives a daemon pleasure to sully the souls of the honest and pious, so that their unhallowed malice might spread.’ I traced my finger over the mark on my collarbone. ‘There may be some truth to that, but I also feel that feasting on the soul gives a daemon far greater sustenance than our flesh ever could.’ The bloodmoon was drawing closer, I could feel it in my chest – not the lunar patterns, mind you. The bloodmoon strengthens the connection that is formed between daemon and Touched. I felt the thread that had bound us since that night tighten and pull our souls closer to one another. The thumping of his heart in rhythm with mine raised my hackles. I felt him.

I asked the only question left to distract myself from that feeling.

‘Kastyn… What makes you think Lothway is so dangerous? You were willing to outlaw yourself and her by association in order to get away from him, and you need to tell me why.’

‘I fear there is a darkness in Fulco Lothway’s heart, one that even daemon’s would be daunted by—’

A shriek cut him off and pierced our ears, so close was the sound. This was not the battlecry of a Feral daemon, for what came after sounded like chanting, guttural and grave were its notes. I motioned for Kastyn to hoist Elinora and draw his blade whilst I lead with the light. As the chanting gave way to a discordant hymn, I began to hope.

‘It sounds like a canticle,’ Kastyn remarked in a whisper. ‘Do you hear a melody?’

‘Indeed. Your conjecture regarding a daemonic faith was well-founded, it seems.’

Continuing on we found a bend in the tunnel. I peeked my head around the corner to see daemons – adult Ferals – huddled around a decorated slab sitting underneath a tall and twisted effigy. The braziers that lined the edges of this alcove burned a distinctly crimson hue, granting a bloodied visage to the scene. A larger daemon was sitting atop the slab – which I eventually surmised was constructed entirely of bone – with three horns poking out of it’s head; a natural crown. The Ferals that surrounded it were taller and thicker with sinew than the their younger counterparts – bulkier, dangerous.

‘They’re singing,’ Kastyn remarked. ‘What sort of sacrilege is this?’

‘I’ve never seen this before...’ I sniffed sharply and pocketed my curiosity. ‘In any case, they’re sitting on what we’re looking for.’

All of a sudden, their dissonant hymn ceased and the silence that filled its wake was laden with apprehension. It was as if they were all waiting for something, and that something came soon enough.

The effigy started to writhe, and what looked like limbs turned down and burrowed into the back of the larger daemon sitting on the altar. The creature let loose a howl before it began grunting heavily, as if expecting it, but not the intensity of the pain. More than that, it abided the agony, it’s eyes beginning to gleam a harsh and light blue, even against the competing red glow of the braziers.

What came next, I can only describe as a massacre. The effigy seemed to control the daemon from within as it hacked down the unholy choir that surrounded it. It tore heads from shoulders, pulled limbs apart, ripped bones from the tissue that caged them. All the while, this Effigy daemon drank the blood from their ruined bodies. It competes in my mind – to this very day – as one of the strangest things I would ever see, in a life that was witness to many a strangeness. It finally stood to full height, skin and muscles stretched by the foreign presence inside of it, before trudging down a tunnel leading ever deeper into The Bowels.

‘Now’s the time,’ I said. Light on our feet, we rushed into what I could only describe as a subterranean parish. Given greater scope of the room I saw there were etchings on the walls and graven images scattered around the place. What they meant I had no idea, undoubtedly something deeply offensive to the Numenistic Orthodox. It seemed that Kastyn agreed.

‘This place is…’ Kastyn began, as he set Elinora down on the bone slab. ‘It’s an utter antipode to all we hold sacred.’

‘I’m sure if these Ferals could communicate they would say the same about our own chapels.’ I fished the scalpel from my pack, carved from the bones of Elinora’s cousin, Halynn. Lothway had expressed the closeness of their kinship and I found it rather poetic that Halynn may relieve her family of such a curse, even in death. ‘I need you to hold her down.’ I passed Kastyn a leather strap. ‘And make sure that stays in her mouth.’

‘Can we not administer something, for the pain? What about that medicine you gave me earlier?’ The worry was writ clear on Kastyn’s face.

‘Avacane is an antiseptic, not a numbing agent. Besides, it would do no good. I’ve bore witness to this procedure twice before. During the first the patient wasn’t restrained, and his resistance against the knife caused the surgeon to slice a vein of import. The second, the afflicted bit clean through her own tongue and bled to death.’

Understanding dawned on the young knight. ‘Because it is not a physical ailment. We are to excise this mark from her soul. This… tumorous thing.’ He turned to me then, stuttering an apology. ‘My apologies, Vyde. I don’t know why I said that. You—’

‘Think nothing of it. The time has passed to relieve me of this affliction, but not for her.’ My attention was on Elinora’s mark, the ice in her veins threading ever stronger towards that pulsing, bitter white. I traced my own mark. ‘Besides… I cannot say I disagree. Come, let us extirpate this tumour, sir.’

He nodded and bound her ankles together, holding her legs and chest as I set to making the first incision.