The desert sun was exhausting to deal with. Lucullus wiped sweat from his forehead as it rolled down, sometimes dripping over his brow. The group had only passed the old road sign in the direction of The Pit a few hours prior, yet he already missed the tent. He wondered to himself how he could miss it, but each drop of sweat that dripped from his brow was a reminder of why. He had forgotten how miserable it was to travel the desert of Maleun. While his injuries didn’t handicap him nearly as much as they once had, the soreness his whole body felt made each step a chore. His body was covered with scars, though most of them were covered by the clothes Olivia stitched for him. At least my head is covered by the hood she sewed to it. He looked like a filthy wanderer with his makeshift outfit, but greater concerns filled his mind.

Though the road sign said The Pit, Laylaa explained that it referred to the geography of the capital region. It was not the name of the road, nor of a settlement that it leads to. Laylaa told them that the road was a shortcut between the royal city and the main road along the western shores. Olivia nearly vomited as she looked at what greeted them along the roadside.

Lucullus looked at several crude crosses of wood. Bodies were nailed to them. He shuddered. “Why? What purpose does it serve to have this along the side of the road?”

“This is the fate of the most dangerous Chaodites we capture,” Aurelian explained.

“I’m not saying that Chaodites like them don’t deserve punishment, but the smell is horrid.”

“We don’t nail any Chaodite to a cross like this. Only ones who must be restrained.”

“Would tying them to a bed be insufficient? Why not just kill them so they can’t do any more damage?”

He shook his head. “I’ve accompanied several Sufi — equivalent probably to an Aerasite Mystic in rank and combat prowess — on missions to investigate Chaodite infestations. Sometimes Lady Laylaa has accompanied me on these missions. I have learned many things about these Chaodite Masters. To become a Master among the Chaodites, you have to let a multitude of wicked spirits enter and control you. An illusion of agency remains, but the individual has sold their soul to Chaodis to reach this point. I’ve seen the look in their eyes… It physically hurts to look, but if you do make prolonged eye contact… I hate to even think of it, but you lose some of your agency. You gradually become a slave to them.”

“Wouldn’t killing them solve that?”

He sighed. “Can your sword pierce the spirit?”

“I’ve never tried it.”

“You might destroy their body, but it became nothing more than an empty shell long ago. At that stage, they’re so addicted to the power that it doesn’t matter what you do physically. The nails we use have a special oil they’re coated in. A Patriarch comes by regularly through here to perform his rituals for exorcising the wicked spirits out — the oil from the nails weakens the spirits, preventing them from maintaining a grip on the body. There has been an occasion where a Chaodite Master was converted. The Patriarch performing the exorcism had been blessed by Hikma for his great devotion to a life of rigorous discipline, and his prayers were more efficacious. The Chaodite lasted a couple of days, and in that time he was cleansed from the spirits. By a miracle, he repented. To this day he is the only one to have converted while nailed up there. I couldn’t believe it when Lady Laylaa told me the story.”

“Is there a way around having to do that? It seems ridiculous to even attempt it. If they’re so dangerous, how do you transport them from the battlefield to here?”

“The Sufi have certain Mystiko powers. Provided they are able to successfully use them, it can keep these Chaodites from being a threat, but only for a short time. We can’t have Patriarchs traveling all over the continent to visit one Chaodite. It’s just not practical. And capturing one of these Chaodites is too difficult to waste the opportunity with unnecessary risks. The method was not chosen out of a love of torture nor revenge.”

Lucullus slowly turned his gaze back to Aurelian. “But why put them along this road? Why not scatter them in a field or something?”

“Road access means the Patriarchs can reach them easier. It is not the wish of Saladin or any of the Patriarchs that these souls should be lost, but their extreme devotion to Chaodis means that we have to take equally extreme measures to counter it. This isn’t a normal possession. We’re not talking about some old woman being ravaged by an evil spirit, or even a hundred spirits. This is someone who can use Mystiko at a higher level than most of our users. You know what they are capable of. You’ve seen what their lesser brethren can do. And those Chaodites don’t even have the host of spirits that their masters do. It is absolutely necessary that these spirits be banished. If not, their intrusion into the mortal realm could bring about a great disaster.”

He sighed. “I understand. I just hope we don’t have to walk this road again. Between the smell and the view — I’m not sure which is worse — I think I might pass out before we reach Saladin.”

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Laylaa muttered something in Dayiran.

Lucullus looked at Aurelian, who translated, “The Road of the Cross.”

Lucullus raised a brow. “The Road of the Cross?”

“It’s the name given to this road. Though, since it’s generally taken to quickly reach the capital, some people have taken to calling it the Royal Road of the Cross.”

“I call it Kolasi,” Aela retorted.

Johannes scoffed, “Höllenstraße.”

“Eternal Torment is more accurate,” Lucullus remarked.

“I believe it’s all the same,” Aela corrected.

Aurelian bowed his head as he sighed. “I don’t like it either. But if we are to reach Saladin before any loose Chaodites learn of Olivia’s presence here, then we must take this road.”

“Why would anyone, aside from Patriarchs, travel this road?”

“All the things you complained about, as well as the frequent presence of Patriarchs and Sufi, are what keep the bandits away. This road, despite its flaws, is the safest road in all of Mahjur.”

“I just have one more question, then I wish to speak no more of this wretched road.”

“Go ahead.”

“Does the frequency of crosses increase as we reach the capital?”

“Actually, we’ll be out the worst part by tomorrow evening, assuming we keep our current pace. Once we’re near the capital, the frequency decreases. No one really wants to be surrounded by the putrid bodies of Chaodites, so a certain distance from the city, and its surrounding countryside, is maintained.”

“Good.”

“Though… The truth is, most of the crosses you see have been here for a long time.”

“What? How long?”

“Since the Great Rebellion. It was when the first Chaodites were made.”

Aela darted her gaze to Aurelian. “What do you mean, ‘were made’?”

“The ancient mystics of Savronism lost some members to the influence of Chaodis. These were the first Chaodites… They put most of these up. Many Savronites were nailed to these.”

“And Saladin approves of the continued use of these same crosses?” Lucullus scoffed.

“I suppose it perhaps was partly revenge that caused him to choose that method.”

“I hope you or Laylaa can convince him to choose a different method. This dishonors the dead.”

Saladin’s court was, for much of the group, like stepping into a different world. His throne was made of pure stone, with steps leading up to it on the left and the right. But the raised platform, which it rested on, could not be approached directly. Red silk curtains were drawn on either side of the platform, hanging from the ceiling. Out from the center of the room were several pillars arranged in a square. Beyond them, most of Saladin’s court guests and members resided, silently chatting away and sipping wine as servants shuffled around with cups and jugs.

Laylaa approached the platform, and bowed as she knelt down. She grabbed Olivia by the shoulders and led her forward. Saladin greeted her warmly, and began to question her about her journey, Titus, and her companions. He explained the plan of returning them to Lucium.

“But I can’t leave, yet!” Lucullus objected.

Saladin eyeballed Lucullus.

“Before I return to Lucium, I must be able to prove to King Titus that a Chaodite conspiracy has taken over in the homeland. For I have lost such documents in the shipwreck. My witnesses can confirm the existence of Chaodites, but they can’t convince Titus of the threat in his own realm.”

Aurelian, despite his reluctance, translated to Saladin, and relayed the response, “The King has declared that, if you wish to receive this help, then you shall render help unto him.”

“Of course,” He muttered to himself. “I’m guessing it has something to do with political problems. Am I to calm a few prideful vassals, or perhaps bring a rebellious house back into the fold?”

Saladin looked at Laylaa, then Aurelian, and back to Lucullus.

Lucullus stared back at him, stern and persistent.

“He says that, despite your uncouth tone, he is impressed that you already knew what he would ask.”

“Which of the things I listed is he asking?”

“There has been a split between the east and west of Mahjur. The eastern clans have denied Saladin’s authority as the king. They have formed an alliance, and there are rumors that Aladdin, the head of one of the clans, may soon try to conquer the west. Even more disturbing, there are rumors that he has support from some noble houses in Bol.”

“I’m not a diplomat, but I’ll try. Many factions and noble houses, from Lucium to Immergrun, can attest to my espionage and combat prowess.” He glanced at Saladin, then back to Aurelian. “If I do this for him, will he provide me with what I need to convince Titus?”

Aurelian nodded.

“Then I shall do whatever it takes to reconcile the east.”