Abad and Angra followed the Silverway for several more days. Having eaten together the night before, neither of them would need food again for some time. That allowed them to maintain a good pace. By evening, they'd made significant progress. He even began recognizing landmarks he'd seen when he traveled with Keila.

As he walked, he found himself thinking of the woman. Would they meet again in this life? Would he have the opportunity to spend time with her again? He'd grown to care about her more than he'd expected he would, and while he knew they lived in different worlds, he would like to spend time with her again if possible. If he had the chance, he'd try to treat her well.

That night, despite neither of them needing to eat, Angra caught another rabbit, and they made a small feast, then slept comfortably under the stars. He smiled when the imp slid against his side. Her presence was comforting.

***

They made great time again on the second day. Since they didn't have to take the detour Keila had made when he'd traveled this path before, they managed to reach the crossroads where the woman had given him a geography lesson by that evening. At their current pace, he knew they weren't too far away from Farnfoss, and now that they were on more frequently traveled roads, if they were lucky, they might run across a passing cart or wagon and catch a ride to town. Anything was preferable to walking at this point. Abad's feet were getting tender. After the crossroads, it had taken them three days to reach the city on the cart. On foot, he estimated it would take around five.

A few hours later, they made camp, and Angra caught another rabbit. They sparked a small fire and listened to the wind in the trees as they ate together.

***

Two days later, evening approached when he saw something in the distance. He couldn't quite make out what it was, so he paid it little mind. However, as they got closer, something felt wrong. He felt his legs begin to resist each step, and Angra's invisible body pressed to his. She sensed something too. After a dozen more yards, he stopped. The place looked familiar.

"Do you smell that?" He heard Angra whisper in his ear. "It stinks."

He did indeed smell it. It smelled suspiciously similar to the wagon they'd come across days before. Worse, unless his memory was failing him, this area looked similar to the place that he, Keila, and her brothers stopped at when...

"Go. Now. We're not safe." he commanded his familiar.

"Why?"

"Don't argue. Just go." He felt her shift on his shoulder, then the flapping of wings filled the air. A moment later, he saw a branch move overhead. She cawed at him. He nodded and continued down the road.

Feeling more confident knowing he wouldn't have to protect her, he scanned the area with his senses. He didn't feel anything around them except for a small amount of essence up ahead. It was vague and indistinct, like the essence that lingered within bodies after death. He felt his lips draw down further at that realization. A pit opened in his stomach.

He kept moving, scanning the area and remaining cautious as he moved. As he walked closer, he began to make out the shape of a familiar cart. It looked exactly the same as he remembered it, except the oxen were missing. The smell of decay got worse as he approached. Once he'd walked another hundred yards, it permeated the air. After passing several trees, the road opened up, revealing the source of the stench.

Two mutilated bodies lay in their bedrolls on the ground of the small campsite. A burnt-out fire rested in between the bodies, and their gear was neatly placed by their heads. Countless flies buzzed around the corpses, and the smell of rot clung to everything. It was almost enough to make even him gag. He knew who these bodies belonged to. He could just make out the blonde hair of the two brothers, though it was coated in coagulated blood. Their crates were still placed on the ground around the fire. He remembered using them as makeshift seats.

Whoever did this wasn't after their supplies. He scowled and approached the bodies.

Their sleeping bags were shredded. Underneath the torn fabric, their clothes were torn. Gaping wounds littered their skin, and blood saturated the ground around them. With a deep breath, he knelt down to the closest. It was Rhys. His eyes were still shut. Aside from being too pale, he looked like he could be asleep. He stood back up and walked to Serus. Serus' eyes were just barely opened. Abad got the sense that he'd heard a sound just before death took him. He reached his hand out and closed the man's eyes. While he may not deserve it, Abad still wanted him to rest well.

Standing back up, he looked around for the final body. While a part of him hoped that she'd escaped, he was far too pragmatic to give in to hope. He knew she was here somewhere. He searched the trees and the rest of the campsite but said nothing. Turning back toward the cart, his heart stopped. Lines of blood stained the dirt under the cart. They ran in the same direction as the wood. A fair woman's hand hung off the back. Dreading what he knew he would find, he began walking around. As he circled the back of the cart and saw what lay within, he stumbled back.

Her blue eyes, hazy in death, stared up at the sky, and her mouth hung open. In her other hand, her fingers gripped her saber tightly, but it was still in the sheath. Her chest was torn open. Blood blood coated the interior of the cart, staining the grain dark brown. Blood had dripped down her beautiful face, matting her straight blonde hair. Maggots crawled in her open wounds, feasting on her corpse.

He couldn't breathe. He'd failed her too. Without him there, the boy, or the creature within the boy, had taken them as well.

Angry tears stained his face. He walked up to her body. Looking into her eyes, he reached out and brushed some of the bloodstained hair away from her face. Her skin was cold. She was long dead. He closed her eyes too, but he couldn't look away.

A caw above drew his attention upward, and Angra floated down to him and alighted on his shoulder. He felt her shift, and she was herself again.

"Were these more friends, master?" Her voice was soft, comforting.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Yes. At least she was." His throat caught. They'd hardly known one another. This version of her never had. Yet, to sides of himself warred with one another as he gazed upon her. It felt as if simultaneously he'd seen her just weeks before but also an age ago. The conflicted thoughts were incompatible but felt equally true. It was stupid.

But it wasn't stupid. He'd cared about her.

"What was her name?"

"Keila."

"That's a pretty name."

"It is."

"Did you care for her?"

"Yes."

Angra was quiet.

"She didn't deserve this..."

He felt Angra shift. He knew what she'd say. She was just a mortal. Mortals didn't matter. Beings like them ought to not concern themselves with lesser beings. He knew the words. They were his, once.

"I'm sorry, master." He looked at her. She was watching him intently.

It was his turn to be quiet. "Thank you, Angra." He reached up and stroked her hair.

She smiled. "We'll get it right. I promise."

He nodded and went to turn away.

"You should take something of hers too." Her voice was filled with compassion. "To remember."

He smiled at her. "You're right." He set his jaw. They might have other things of use to them as well. He wouldn't waste the opportunity."Search the others. Let's take anything that seems useful."

She jumped from his shoulder toward the brothers, and he looked at Keila for a time.

He didn't want to do it. He hated the thought. But he remembered something she'd pulled out of her pouch the night he'd found the child. He climbed up onto the cart's wheel and leaned over the side. Looking down at the woman beneath him, he considered her for a while. Her beauty had faded. She looked unnatural, grotesque. Her open wounds had begun to fester. Her white skin seemed artificial, like a poorly crafted mask. She looked like a husk instead of the vibrant woman who'd once cared for him. But still, he could hear her laughter. He could feel her touch. He could remember her smile. It was difficult for him to let her go.

He looked away for a moment, unable to look upon the empty shell any longer. Then, the steel within him hardened, and he got to work. With a trembling hand, he reached down and opened the belt pouch she'd worn on their trip. Within, he found the small object she'd retrieved the night he'd found the shadow thing. He hadn't paid much attention at the time, but it seemed important. It was a small black stone. He immediately recognized it. It was [Stone of Shrouding]. They were used to obscure campsites and hiding places from prying eyes, and they were difficult to enter. She must have used it to mask their presence after he'd fallen asleep. Otherwise, they'd likely have died that night.

He dug in the pouch further but only found a few crystals. He threw the objects into his pack. Feeling ashamed, he went to turn, but he noticed something on her wrist. It was a thin silver bracelet. He remembered seeing it on her wrist as they traveled, but he hadn't paid it any mind. Tonight, it shined light a bright star in the sky. Reaching to her bloated wrist, he unclasped it, pulled it free, and threw it in his pack. He hopped off the wheel and sent the items he'd recovered to his vault.

"Master, I found a dagger and some weird crystal things." She walked up to him with the items in her arms.

"They use those crystals for currency now."

"Weird." She handed him the items. He threw them in the pack and sent them away too.

He walked around the cart. He grabbed Keila's saber and pried her fingers free from the weapon's hilt. That, too, went to the vault.

He returned to the middle of the campsite. A thought came to him. He walked to one of the crates, opened it, and found a dozen bottles of ale. He'd never forget their ale crate. Pulling one bottle free, he uncorked it and poured its contents onto the brothers. "Rest well." A stray wish filled his heart. He found himself hoping their souls would find the Goddess.

[Candlelight]

Orange and white flames sprung to life in his hand. He pointed it down at Rhys and willed it forth. It spilled out onto the man's body. He did the same for Serus and the cart. Soon, the campsite was aflame. He watched as everything burned to ash.

For a long time he watched, until the flames turned embers and the bodies burned away. As he did, countless thoughts and memories filled him. He didn't try to corral them. He thought of his father, who died when they'd fled Eran to Varkenth. Abad had barely known him before he was gone. He thought of his mother, who died protecting him. He thought of his old allies, the Seven, and the countless battles they fought together. And he thought of Angra, who he'd nearly lost forever. He felt the old bitterness fill him again. Was it his fate to endlessly suffer? What lay at the end of the road that he was on?

He reached down and touched Angra's shoulder. If he was to walk an endless road, at least he'd have her by his side. He felt her shift.

"Thank you for being here, little one."

"Master..." Her words were soft.

However, as her words faded, every hair on his body stood on end. Something was wrong.

"Angra." He whispered. Her fiery eyes met his. Behind her, he saw movement."Go. Now." Without hesitation, she transformed and flew upward.

Reaching out with his senses, he couldn't feel anything. He tried to think back. Did he ever feel anything from the boy? How could it be that he couldn't sense anything at all? Everything had essence, right?

As his thoughts raced, something thin and black shot out of the bushes. He felt hot pain in his arm. he looked down at his forearm. The flesh was open, revealing sinew and muscle beneath. The attack cut to the bone. He groaned as blood poured from his arm.

"[Reveal Yourself]."

The world around him shook from his command. Something in the bushes bristled, and a large black shape was pulled from the trees. He expected the same small, monstrous creature that he saw that night. Instead, this time a nightmare appeared before him.

The beast stood taller than Abad by a large margin, towering above him. It was cloaked entirely in darkness, like a solid shadow, with only the reflections of the dwindling firelight revealing its details. Dozens of chittering mouths adorned its slender torso, each one snapping hungrily at the air. Its arms were abnormally long and thin, tipped with razor-sharp claws the length of swords. Twin eyes like black pools sat on either side of its face, and a single horn protruding from its forehead. Where its feet should have been, long spidery legs spilled out from its torso. He counted ten. The black, chitin-like appendages moved skittishly underneath the creature's lithe frame.

"What are you?" He asked.

The creature's head cocked to the side at his words. Its mouths ceased snapping for a moment, then began chittering away again. He could see it thinking. There was a mind within.

"Speak, creature. What are you."

Its head cocked further to the side at his words. Its spindly legs danced under it as it turned its entire body to face him. Then, it stood still.

"[Speak]!"

For an instant, it stayed still. Then, a hundred hollow screams shook the forest around him. The monster's massive form rippled.

He dived to the side. Pain pierced him as a black whip shot out from its hand and cut into his leg, halting his movement. Another black whip shot out from the creature. This one caught Abad's eye. Searing agony exploded in his skull. He grabbed at his face as blood and fluid poured from his ruined orb. Then, he saw another flash of black. Then another. And another. His entire world became pain.

[Eclipse]

He channeled as much power into the spell as he could, but he felt it fizzle as countless blades cut through him. He heard screaming. After a moment, he realized it was his own.

Then, everything went black.