Maleah led Cookie by the reins as she and Séverin trailed behind the rest of Ransom’s search party. As usual, Fiora and Alice were together, the brunette pear and the frizzy blond plank. Donough and Madden followed close behind, guarding the flanks and Ransom took point. The sky was still overcast but now illuminated by the golden light of Aurum behind the clouds. The area of the city could be best described as working class and poverty-stricken. Like the rest of the city so far, it was eerily deserted. There was little sign of panic, as if the people living there had no idea of the impending disaster that seemed to have taken their city. There were various checkpoints and barricades set up as they traveled further in, with many homes boarded up, but the signs of battle were absent amidst the various blood stains and puddles of gore.

“It’s all a bit unsettling, isn’t it?”

Séverin only nodded as he took in their surroundings. Maleah frowned; all attempts at conversation with her brother ended before it even began. She had never actually gone into battle with her brother before, and could not be sure if this was how he normally acted or if it was because she was with him. She would not put it past Séverin to maintain a high sense of awareness just because his baby sister was with him. Still, they had been walking for nearly an hour and found no signs of life, only those odd bloodstains and hurried barricades seemingly abandoned mid-construction.

“Whatever did this is no longer in the area you know…”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we can’t learn anything by examining its aftermath. …Speaking of which Maleah, I haven’t seen you around too much lately.” He said, finally taking her hints at conversation.

“I’ve been busy.” Maleah sighed and blew at her bangs. “I’ve got fifty soldiers that need new armor, all of their weapons need repair or replacing, and I’ve been trying to hunt down a seamstress or tailor to get them some new clothes… why are you laughing?”

“Because you continue to surprise me sister. If this is all it took for you to gain some maturity and a sense of responsibility, I should have orchestrated a war myself years ago.”

“Don’t even joke about that.” Maleah patted Cookie’s neck as she thought of a way to change the subject from herself. “What about you? Where have you been?”

“…Reconnaissance.”

“Spying.” Maleah grinned and leaned in close to her brother, speaking in hurried whispers. “So, what did ya find out?”

“Maleah, my information does not come cheap, even for family.” He responded jestingly, though it was obvious he was not joking.

“Aww. You know I’m good for it! Come on Séverin! It’s been so boring lately.” Maleah suddenly snapped her fingers in inspiration. “Oh! I know, we can trade—”

“I already know of Ashe’s pregnancy.”

“Clarissa got to you already?”

Séverin nodded in response.

“Damn her.” Maleah nudged playfully at Séverin’s side. “Alright then, what’s the deal between the two of you then? You seem awful cozy.”

“The deal is it doesn’t concern you.” He replied flatly.

Maleah backed off at the finality of his tone; she had heard it many a time before and knew not to press the issue. Séverin was not always the patient contemplative type that he was now. There were times when he was outright frightening, and despite his change in demeanor as he got older, he never lost his autocratic presence. That being said, the good times always outnumbered the bad by far.

“Well what about those two?” Maleah nodded in the direction of Fiora and Alice. “It’s like they’re joined at the hip or something.”

“Or something…” Séverin muttered.

“I walked in their cabin by accident once and saw them sharing a bath. You know they sleep in the same bed?” She whispered with her hand beside her mouth, as if sharing the scandal of the century.

“Sisters often share beds; you and Osric shared a bed for a while.”

“Yeah but we were poor, children, and blood relatives. Those two aren’t even from the same continent. It’s a little odd. D’you think they’re, you know,” She waited awkwardly for Séverin to finish the question, finally looking around to be sure no one overheard. “Screwin’ around?”

“Would that bother you?”

“No,” She quickly replied and flushed slightly at having been put on the defensive. “It’s just I dunno, queer.”

Séverin remained silent for several moments, debating on whether or not he should divulge his secrets. “Alice is an heiress to a vast fortune and throne of Aes Sidhe, Fiora is a lowborn knight from a very conservative family. Such a relationship would prove disastrous for at least one of them.”

Maleah turned her ruby red eyes towards the young pair of suspected lovers. While Fiora certainly was all woman, the though had never crossed her mind that she would seek the company of someone like Alice. She was a haughty young aristocrat, while pretty enough, she struck Maleah as one who would shun the common folk as her class were wont to do. However, as more and more pieces fell into place, it was difficult to dismiss them as anything less than close friends, and even that was becoming a tough sell.

“You cunning bastard!” She slugged her brother in the arm, her face alight with veneration. “You’re going to blackma—”

Séverin clamped his hand over his sister’s mouth. “It is merely leverage should the need arise. Think of it as insurance. That means not a word from you, understood?”

Maleah nodded eagerly and he removed his hand. “What else do you know?”

“About whom?” He sighed, becoming weary with her line of inquiry.

Maleah looked around at her companions. “Uh, the elf woman with the beautiful long hair.”

“Órfhlaith? She was a third term senator from a prominent family. Hers is, or was, the only house in Rhode to have trade agreements with nations in the Thiudorican Mining Allegiance. Her house produced more gold in a year than Thiudoricus did in three. Being outspoken, she is at odds with a great deal of those from other clans, even those of her own try not to evoke her ire.”

“She and Eth had a thing for each other, or so I hear.” Maleah whispered smugly.

“I can’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Fine then.”

“Don’t get sensitive.” Séverin chastised.

“It’s over with. You’re the one being sensitive. What about Ransom?” Maleah blurted before Séverin got a chance to respond. “Is that even his real name? Is he even human?”

“Hmm… that one bothers me. And no, he is not human, at least not fully. He’s half Morlock, but he claims he’s from Duvachellé. I’m certain his name is an alias, but I have no way to find his true identity. My only hope is to find out who first employed him, if I could get ahold of his contract it’d be a step in the right direction.”

Maleah chuckled as a mischievous grin crossed her lips. “Do you have dossiers on everyone in this merry little band of ours?”

“For the most part, yes.” He replied coolly, causing Maleah to shiver inadvertently.

“What’re you two back here scheming about then? All I hear I you two chattin’ away in that ugly tongue o’ yers.” Taryn adjusted her bow on her shoulder as she dropped to the rear of the formation.

“Obviously that means we don’t want tramps like you listening in.” Maleah jabbed Taryn in the chest with her index finger. “So, get lost.”

“It was a private conversation.” Séverin added.

Taryn blushed and bowed her head slightly at Séverin’s gentle admonition. “I’m sorry Mister Séverin, I didn’t mean to appear rude, it’s just I didn’t wanna be left out, you two bein’ the only ones I really know ennall.” Taryn twisted her hair nervously as Maleah glared at her in confusion.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Why the hell are you talking like that? You told me you hate Xanaviens, couldn’t trust the stinkin’ idiots any more than an Elysian priest—“

“Shut up Maleah!” Taryn hissed, before turning a sheepish smile on Séverin.

“By The Dawn you’re a weird one.” Maleah muttered.

“It’s alright, Taryn was it?”

“Uh-huh.” Taryn nodded enthusiastically.

Séverin smiled, causing his sister to pout. “Right, I actually had some questions about your militia, such as how it was that you came to be its commander.”

Taryn chewed on her thumbnail as she thought. “I sort of inherited it I guess, my da’ was leader of the town citizens defense. It was sort o’ a deterrent for bandit raids. Seems the further you are from the capitol, the less attention you get from the military. But you’d best believe they can find you during tax season. I understand the two of you know this all too well.”

Séverin nodded absently as they rest of the group began to chat quietly amongst themselves.

“When the war started, our group was conscripted to join up with other civilian militias in reinforcing the border, it was one of those official decrees: ‘Join or face execution’, or something to that effect. My father took about a hundred good lads with him; leaving me in charge of the town’s defense should any opportunistic brigands decide to arrive.” She was silent for several moments before eventually continuing. “…He didn’t come back, none of them did. I mean it’s to be expected, casualties in a war. If not one side then the other right?”

“How did you acquire the nickname ‘Reaper’?” Séverin asked at length, breaking the melancholic silence that fell upon them.

“Oh, that. It’s a bit of an exaggeration, just a way to fuck wit’ the enemy’s heads is all.” Taryn nodded in Madden’s direction. “See that big buffoon o’er there? He an’ his mates were lookin’ for the Reaper. Told ‘im it was me an’ he just laughed sayin’ ‘There’s no way.’ So I says ‘wait till we get ta Ophelia--’”

“Where the hell are you from anyway? You talk like some inbred hill dweller.” Maleah patted Cookie as she began to shy away from the reins.

“Oi! That’s a bloody misconception and I resent that remark! Us hill folk ain’t all inbred!” Madden shot back, startling Maleah with the passion of his arguments, particularly his admission that at least some of the population was.

“Shut it you! This is a private conversation!” Taryn shot back with an obscene gesture. “An’ no, I’m not Aes Sidhean; I’m from the southern peninsula of Sorn. That basically means that no one really gives a damn about us. Only the Elysian speakin’ folk in central an’ northern Sorn get respected. And protected. When Sorn fell, it was only natural for us refugees to head north ta Duvachellé, try to blend in with the rest by keepin’ our mouths shut. They should just annex what’s left an’ be done with it.”

“What about your numbers? Are there any other archers? Or are you the only one?”

Séverin smiled genuinely as he attempted to pump Taryn for information without it seeming like that was his goal. While Maleah quickly caught his game, Taryn seemed none the wiser.

“No, we’ve got a few others, countin’ the two youngsters I just acquired; I’d say we have about twenty-five, twenty-six maybe. That is, barring any unforeseen casualties in my absence. Ya know its kind o’ funny…”

“Hmm? What is?”

“I went down to Eefrit to hire a couple of mercs, ended up joinin’ the enemy and then some undead knight’s army. Strange how fate has a way with toyin’ with us right?”

Ransom suddenly issued a halt, hand on the hilt of his sword as he scanned the fog veiled square before them. He sniffed the air in confusion as Fiora drew her sword and inched forward. The square was empty, only the blood-stained cobblestone and a dismantled barricade around a silent fountain stood out in the thick fog. A crow cawed, causing Taryn to start. Cookie reared and tugged her reins, nearly toppling Maleah.

“What’s your problem?” Maleah cooed as she tried to ease her now very agitated horse. “Calm down Cookie!”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right…” Ransom drew his sword slowly as he sniffed at the air. “I know that smell from somewhere…”

“What d’ya mean feel?” Madden stretched and limbered up in anticipation of a battle.

“Whatever killed everyone in this city is still here.” Séverin answered calmly.

Alice lowered her hood and began to search the streets on earnest. “Killed? How can you be sure?”

“Speaking of which, has anyone seen a body since we got here? It seems all we’ve come across were blood stains.” Maleah continued to struggle with her antsy beast. “What is wrong with you?”

Séverin drew his daggers and stepped forward to peer into the haze for the source of his unease. “Let the horse go Maleah.”

Maleah unstrapped her lance from Cookies saddle before setting the terrified horse free.

“I smell corpses.” The charms rattled as she removed the sheath from the blade. “Long dead corpses. Where did that come from?”

“…There’s something else. A smell…?” Ransom sniffed at the air. “That’s not it either, more like a sensation.”

“You waste your words in trying to describe this feeling child.”

The group raised their blades as a robed figure parted the fog before him and made his way forward. They tried to peer through the fog that seemed to swirl around the figure as a shroud to no avail. Alice stepped forward and launched a slowly hovering ball of flame in the direction of the figure. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the orb of flame and continued advancing, his bare feet slapped wetly on the stone. The figure stepped from the fog and looked into each of their faces. He lowered his hood, revealing the pale face of a man of advanced years.

“It is how our kind recognizes one another in the labyrinths of inner Silex, or should one seek to go incognito, amongst the other races of this world as you have done. And what strange company you keep child…” His body was bent and heavily wrinkled; his skin was near transparent in its paleness.

“Who are you?” Ransom demanded and slowly circled in closer.

“I could ask you the same. I see those of Xanavien ilk, those from the faerie hills and the bastard spawn of Eloi.” The old man hissed as he glared at Donough. “Why is it that you have crawled from the depths of Silex to associate with such strange company?”

“I was hoping fer somethin’ tae happen.” Donough exclaimed with a grin. “An arrogant dusk born fuck for me tae kill.”

“I think that man’s a Morlock.” Alice whispered into Fiora’s ear.

“A what?” Fiora whispered back.

“The elder folk, as you faerie born prefer to categorize us as.” The man answered to their surprise. “Which is why it is so queer you designate one as your leader.”

“I am of mixed heritage, what of it?” Ransom spat defiantly. “How about we get to the real issue at hand, why is it everyone here is dead yet you walk around like you own the place?”

The old man chuckled. “Unlike you, I cannot obtain iron from the blood of common beasts or the ore of the same; I must feed off a human host. I am a progenitor of our species, and have spent an aeon in the realm of dusk. Surely you understand.”

“You killed the villagers and our scouting party?” Alice grew red-faced in anger as she drew an equally red rune in the air.

“No. And yes.” He replied cryptically, unconcerned for the threats before him.

“All I heard was yes.” Ransom raised his sword.

“While the villagers were my doing, these companions of yours were felled by the mindless husks of those I fed upon. I do apologize for any inconvenience.”

Maleah wedged her lance in between the cobblestone and leaned upon it slightly. “Enigma is overrated.”

“I am no mindless demon as you have no doubt already encountered their ilk. Though my hunger was ravenous upon my release, my tastes are a bit more refined. I can assure you this was an isolated incident due to extreme circumstances.”

Ransom lowered his sword and scratched his head in confusion. “Damn…”

“Well hell, the man apologized, now what?” Maleah dislodged the stone with her lance and kicked it across the square.

“But he just ate an entire city! No apology can mitigate such a horrific act!” Fiora protested.

“Would you truly condemn one for their eating habits? Would you kill the hawk for eating a sparrow? Or the lion for hunting the gazelle?”

“What the hell is a lion?” Maleah went through several drill and ceremony moves with her lance, totally unconcerned with the current tensions.

“Ransom! What are you going to do about this? Surely you’ll not let this monster go free because he claims hunger!” Alice screeched.

Ransom lit a cigarette. “Ease up Alice. By Dawn,” he took a deep, long drag from his cigarette. “But you must admit it’s a good argument…”

“Whatever this creature’s justification, oor men are dead and he is the cause, be it directly or indirectly as he so claims.” Donough drew his weapon with icy nonchalance as he returned the Morlocks cold glare.

“The day I am spoken to as such by some soil born bastard child of the fey--!”

“But I already have spoken.” Donough snarled. “Ransom, the order is yours.”

“How dare you!” The Morlock bellowed, flushing his lucid skin with crimson and blue, spidery veins.

“Damn… you ate all those people? Craven bastard…” Ransom mumbled in a sort of sick awe.

“You’re tainted blood errs your judgment it seems. Very well then, if you so choose to ally yourself with this Rhodean scum and persecute me for my partaking of sustenance,”

The undead husks of the townspeople moaned and shuffled out from hiding. Doors flung open or fell from their hinges as the undead masses shambled onto the streets. The group watched in horror as more continued to pile out of the dwellings in a flood of rotted flesh.

“Damn…” Ransom took another deep hit off his cigarette.

“I shall have to purge this rock of your ignorance.” The Morlock grinned wickedly, revealing bloodstained fangs that lined his jaw.

Several pillars of deep violet smoke erupted violently from the cobblestone, condensing into pitch-black beings with bulbous orange eyes, gapping maws of razor sharp teeth and dagger like fingers. They opened their mouths and let out a piercing hiss, their multiple tongues writhing like eels dripping with saliva. Taryn made the sign of The Dawn as she stumbled back in terror.

“Holy shit, buggles had family…” Maleah kicked the butt of her lance, rotating it over her hand. “Watch for those things, they’re fast, deadly and deceptively cute.

“Bring me the Rhodean brute and the Halfling, do what you will with the rest.” The Morlock hissed as he dispersed into the mist.

“Damn…” Ransom swore as he patted himself for another cigarette.