I watched, stunned, as Palomir rose to his feet and brushed the dirt off his body. Apparently uninjured, he smiled at us with a bemused expression, as though we were nothing more than mischievous children.

“Kill him!” Wystane projected.

The five of us charged, Wystane running the fastest. She hurled her dagger, but Palomir caught it by the blade. He looked at it thoughtfully.

“Left eye.”

He hurled the dagger at Wystane, striking her in the face and causing her to fly backward. While Dannik and Hubril ran to her body, I loaded a silver bolt.

“Damn you!” Bolan hurled his dagger.

Bolan’s blade would have struck Palomir’s chest, but the elf caught it just as easily as he’d caught Wystane’s. He yawned.

“Neck.”

With a flick of his wrist, Palomir flung the dagger at Bolan, and though the Surgeon did his best to dodge, the missile struck his neck just above the sternum. Bolan clutched his throat, and fell to the ground choking.

Palomir walked to Bolan and kicked him in the collarbone, and the Surgeon fell silent. Then Palomir cocked his head. “You’re all dressed like servants... Strange. Was there a masquerade I wasn’t invited to?”

I fired a silver bolt at Palomir’s midsection, but the elf caught it and dropped it on the ground.

“Oh, please continue,” Palomir said. “I’m rather enjoying this.”

Hubril rushed at the elf, attempting to stab him in the back. Without even glancing backward, Palomir took hold of the Surgeon’s wrist and twisted it. A SNAP filled the air, and Hubril shouted as he fell onto his knees, clutching his hand.

Now Dannik and I were the only two Surgeons standing. When Palomir saw me, his face broke into a wide grin. “I know you! Dylan the rogue, wasn’t it? You’re the one who escaped me in the Baildril! You know, this is all starting to make sense.”

Palomir looked upward, seemingly lost in thought. Seizing her chance, Dannik drew her dagger and ran at him, slashing at his neck. He dodged her first blow and the second, and then drove his foot into her knee. Bones shattered, and Dannik shrieked as she fell onto her good knee. Palomir took her in a headlock and held her in front of him like a shield. Once again, he smirked at me.

“If you’re half the man I used to be,” Palomir said, “the sight of a woman in peril will compel you to turn aside your weapon and answer my questions. What do you say?”

I struggled to find a clear shot, but I couldn’t fire without hitting Dannik. I lowered my weapon. “Ask your questions.”

Palomir’s smile widened. “You must have eluded the assassin I sent and followed him to Sariel’s store. You and your friends defeated Sariel and his brothers, and that’s how you learned where to find us. Am I correct?”

My blood boiled. I’d slain Palomir’s friends and re-dedicated his temple to Motiacca, but he was as strong and as confident as ever. I wracked my brain to think of a plan, but the damned elf could catch my bolts. My only option, I reasoned, was keep him occupied until one of the Surgeons found a way to hurt him.

“Yes, we killed your friends,” I said. “Without them, you won’t stand a chance against the mages.”

Palomir shrugged. “No matter. Once Galliel overtakes Encelas, all accounts will be settled. Here’s a more interesting question: how did you know I was vulnerable to silver? Even I didn’t know that.”

Now it was my turn to smirk. “There are legends of men who change into wolves. Silver is the only thing that wounds them, and they always transform on a full moon.”

Just then, a thought struck me. I’d been so affected by the deaths of Wystane and Bolan that I hadn’t been thinking clearly. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Palomir laughed. “Well the moon has no effect on—”

I swept aside my hair to reveal Venabel’s mark. As I’d hoped, the smile on the elf’s face vanished, and he glowered at me with livid, mindless fury. Black fur covered his arms and legs, his eyes turned yellow, and his face distorted into a canine form. He threw Dannik aside and leapt toward me.

“YOU HAVE OFFENDED THE LADY OF MURDER! KNOW THAT YOU—”

“Right shoulder,” I whispered.

Thanks to Venabel’s mark, Palomir was too inflamed with rage to catch my bolt. The missile pierced his shoulder, and he fell to the ground with an ear-piercing scream. I loaded another silver bolt and approached the fallen elf, keeping the green dot trained on his neck.

“When you’re finished crying,” I said, “I have some questions for you. Answer, and I’ll end your suffering.”

Palomir spat. “I don’t answer to you, worm. Galliel’s forces will occupy Encelas in a matter of days, and they’ll slay you and everyone you know. By this time next week, you’ll be just another of Galliel’s zombies.”

I desperately wanted to end Palomir’s life—to repay him for the harm he’d caused and the lives he’d taken. But I needed information.

“If you don’t answer my questions,” I said, “I’ll drag you back to the castle, chain you to a wall, and hand everyone a silver pin. I’ll make sure every man, woman, and child in Encelas gets a chance to wound Palomir the Just. Your torment could last forever.”

Palomir closed his eyes, then replied through gritted teeth. “What do you want to know?”

“I want to know about Galliel’s forces. Tell me everything.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“He has at least 40,000 soldiers, and he’s split them into the Army of the South and the Army of the West. The Army of the West is only two or three days’ march from Encelas. Seven out of ten soldiers are humanoid, two of ten are zombies, and one of ten is a darkwalker. He also has a battalion of necromancers.”

“How can the darkwalkers be slain?”

“I have no idea. Necromancers have always tried to make their creations indestructible, and it appears they’ve succeeded. But Galliel is more dangerous than any darkwalker.”

“Why is that?”

“He wields Dhok’kor’s sword, which can cut through anything—any armor, any stone, any magic. And Dhok’kor’s armor not only makes the prince practically invulnerable, but allows him to fly. Galliel can defeat an army by himself.”

“What weaknesses does he have?”

Palomir snorted. “None that I know of. And Dhok’kor constructed his body himself, so he might be able to live forever.”

I stood over the fallen elf, digesting what he’d said. Part of me wanted to torture the elf, but I had more important matters to deal with.

“Heart.”

The silver bolt entered the elf’s chest, and then Palomir the Just, priest and lover of Venabel, former priest of Theris, erupted in a burst of black flame. +5,000 XP!

⚔

I heaved the bodies of Wystane, Bolan, the priestess, and the two guards into the coach. Hubril, Dannik, and I assured the coachman that our enemies were dead, and after we pressed several gold coins into his hand, he agreed to take us north to Zhulla.

The three of us sat with our heads lowered, the bodies lying between us. I wanted to ask if there were any prayers to be recited or rituals to be observed, but I kept silent.

“You should have killed Palomir after you struck him,” Hubril projected. “You knew how dangerous he was.”

“I’ve never seen a werewolf get up after being wounded,” I projected. “With Palomir out of the fight, I focused on the rakshasas.”

“Why did you wait so long to show him Venabel’s mark?” Dannik projected. “Did you really enjoy talking to him that much?”

“After Wystane fell, I… I couldn’t think clearly.”

I waited a few moments, and then projected, “I’m sorry.”

This didn’t seem to satisfy Hubril or Dannik, but they didn’t bother me any further. After twenty minutes of silence, the coach came to a halt, and the three of us stepped into the deep snow. I hugged myself, wishing the Surgeon’s armor provided resistance to cold.

Never having lived outside a city, I was deeply impressed by the grandeur of the surrounding mountains. Nestled in the valley below, the village of Zhulla consisted of about forty longhouses with smoke puffing from chimneys. Thin, rocky paths connected the buildings.

“Shall I remain here while you conduct your business?” the coachman asked.

Hubril replied with such authority that I assumed he’d become the senior Surgeon. “That won’t be necessary. Once we find the mages, we’ll teleport back to Encelas with them. When you return, tell the chancellor that Akasur and his followers are dead, but that we suffered serious losses.”

The coachman tipped his hat and drove the horses forward. As the coach left, I projected a thought. “I don’t see any wizards. How will we find the temple?”

“We’ll ask around,” Dannik projected. “The temple’s discovery is probably the most exciting thing that has ever happened here.”

⚔

Dannik was right. Everyone in Zhulla knew about the temple and the Enclave’s expedition. Five gold hired a guide, and another five gold bought us coats made from the pelts of ice trolls, which turned out to be exceedingly warm. The mages had rented every sleigh in the village, so the four of us headed northeast on foot.

The northern border of Zhulla was blocked off by a wall of mountains, and as we followed the tracks of the mages’ sleighs, I got a better look. The snow-covered mountains stood impossibly tall, seeming to touch the sky. Judging by the Global Map, this mountain range formed the northernmost border of the game, beyond which there appeared to be nothing.

“There’s the temple.” Dannik pointed north. “I can see why it remained hidden for so long.”

My eyes went wide as I beheld the towering structure. It was made of gleaming white stone and had been carved into the face of one of the larger mountains. Its overall shape was triangular, rising from a wide base and narrowing upward to a summit, almost like the Eiffel Tower. It stood far taller than any other building I’d encountered in the game, and made me wonder if there was a race of giants that I hadn’t seen.

After half a mile of walking, we spotted a handful of horse-drawn sleighs parked at the temple’s base. At least twenty wizards in colored robes were amassed near the temple's gigantic double doors.

“These are friends of yours, right?” Hubril asked me. “Recognize any of them?”

“Just one,” I said. “I hope he recognizes me.”

I waved at the wizards. “Antero! It’s me, Dylan, from Raven’s Rest!”

Antero turned and immediately drew his wand, a grave look on his face. The wizards near him followed suit, but no spells were cast. After a moment of silence, the enchanter shook his head in apparent disbelief.

“Dylan?” Antero cried. “What in Zeknir’s name are you doing here?”

Dannik called out, “Demons were planning to overtake your expedition. We were sent to keep you safe.”

The wizards whispered among themselves, many of them clearly upset. Then they lowered their wands.

“You’re a friend of the Enclave,” Antero said, “so despite the strange circumstances, we’ll assume you mean no harm.”

“Thank you,” I said, relieved. “How is the investigation going?”

“Poorly, I’m afraid. We’ve used crystal balls and magic mirrors and every divination spell we know, yet the temple’s doors won’t budge. We can’t even read the writing. Frankly, we’re so frustrated that we’re planning to head home.”

As we approached the mages, I got a better look at the towering pair of doors. Two lines of writing were engraved on their surface, and as I’d hoped, I could read them clearly:

THE MEDALLION OF DARNOK AWAITS INSIDE

ONLY THOSE POSSESSING THE KEY MAY ENTER

I took a long sigh of relief. Finally, I knew where to find the Medallion of Darnok. I’d spent so much time in this crazy game that I’d forgotten that there was a way out. When I checked the Global Map, there was a new marker in the far north labeled Temple of Darnok.

“Dylan?” Dannik projected. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I responded. “Someday, I hope we learn how to open these doors. Whatever’s inside must be amazing.”

Given the size of the keyhole, the key had to be as wide as a broadsword. And if what Jal’gar said was correct, it was in the High Temple of Dhok’kor, at the southernmost edge of the game. Now the journey was clear—steal the key from the temple in the south, then return to the temple in the north.

The three of us joined the wizards and described the rakshasas’ plan to overtake the expedition. When we finished, the mages asked several questions, such as how we’d learned about the demons’ plans and who we were working for. But we kept silent.

The wizards spent another hour investigating the temple, taking measurements and engravings. When it was time to leave, everyone stood in a circle, holding hands, while four blue-robed wizards began chanting. A loud CRACK pierced the wintry air, followed by a light so dazzling that I had to press my eyes shut. When the light subsided, I found myself standing outside the rune-covered doors of the Enclave. We were back in Encelas.