"So, you don't remember any of that?" Flyte asked Elliot.

Ander laid off to the side, still recuperating from the fight. That, it seemed, was the consequence of a late healing spell.

"No," Elliot said. "I only have dreamlike fragments to remember the whole ordeal."

"This isn't good," Ander said. "Not only is it getting smarter, it's getting stronger too."

Elliot's face was grim, like that of a bedridden man spying a look on his own coffin.

"Do you think there's anything that might slow this down?" Flyte asked.

"Of course not," Elliot said. "I can't stay awake forever."

"Flyte," Ander began. "Do you know when Ontin might get that message?"

"It could happen any day now," Flyte answered quietly, angrily. "Just like our arrival at the Scar."

"Maybe a citizen of Ahken or a seeker could help," Ander offered.

"I doubt it," Elliot quietly said.

"Can you at least try?" Flyte asked.

"You have no idea what it is like, Flyte!" Elliot snapped. "To feel lost, robbed of the very basics of your humanity, somehow hollowed out but simultaneously filled with regrets. I don't get to make choices for myself anymore, and my friends look at me like I am already dead."

"Elliot," Flyte muttered.

"I used to be scared, terrified even," Elliot plowed on. "Of the day that I woke up and found that I wasn't in control. Now, I can' feel it at all. It's already happened once, how many more times will I be made a puppet?"

Flyte inhaled, his head down as he prepared for himself to speak up.

Ander held up his hand, motioning for the youth's silence. he couldn't tell if the kid would blow things out of proportion. "I cannot speak for whether Flyte does, but I do understand, Elliot. I don't think I ever told you the story behind this stone arm, but after it was transformed, I had a very rough time. I couldn't do much of anything that I used to, as this arm's drastically slower speed made every action feel irregular. Then, I got to be good at killing others. Really good. I eventually began to view myself as a monster rather than a human. I still run through those thoughts, but I've begun to see myself more clearly. I am still human. You are too. Nothing will change that."

"I've also been troubled," Flyte said. "In part because I'm not human. I've never felt like I fit in, regardless of what people say, so I try as hard as I can to make myself fit in. One of the few things that helps me feel right was nearly taken from me forever. Magic. I felt so trapped with its forbiddance. I couldn't bear losing my one last link to my real parents."

"Ander and I have both made it through these feelings, these issues, and I think we can help you if you'd only let us. Ander would probably rise from that bed and carry you into the deepest reaches of Balis if that could help and I know that I would, so please let us be a part of this."

Elliot's jaw quivered and his face seemed to droop. "I am so sorry," he said.

"Don't be," Flyte said. "That's what friends are for. We'll stand with you throughout whatever pains you have, be they physical or mental."

"We'll bear them with you," Ander said. "Now go and ask around for some help before I make you."

"Alright," Elliot said, wiping his face clean.

"One moment," Flyte said as he held up one hand. "Glow, did I mess up on Ander's healing?"

The funny little healing spirit floated out of the inscription Flyte had on his borrowed sword.

"Let me check," she whistled.

The spherically shaped spirit dove into Ander's chest, but it still wasn't as jarring as Flyte's strengthening of his body.

Until Ander's skin and muscle began to knit itself back together under Glow's guidance. The sensation was like an itch that he really didn't want to scratch.

Only a few moments later, Glow sped out of his chest and shaped her body into that of a young woman.

"Your healing wasn't necessarily bad," Glow whistled. "But there are limitations on basic healing spells. Too many partial healings like this last one, and Ander wouldn't be nearly as active as he is now, but I fixed him, so it's fine this time. Life does come first, after all."

"All that aside," she continued. "If you want to improve, you might have to study anatomy. 'Healing' magic isn't exactly just healing, it's more like magic-assisted biological morphing. You can do a lot with it, but if you mess up bad enough, the effects could be absolutely disastrous."

"Oh," Flyte said. "That does sound scary, I might just have to lean on you for that. At least for a long while."

Glow smiled. "That's fine be me."

Ander stood up and poked at his chest, feeling for any weakness in his flesh.

Seeing none, he pulled his shirt's collar forward and looked at where he had been cut. There wasn't even a scar.

"Neat."

"Wait" Elliot said. "If healing magic can modify the body, could you help fix my ... condition?"

"Oh, that's a good question," Glow whistled. "Let's find out!"

She turned back into an orb and dove into Elliot's chest.

It was a tense few moments as Ander and Flyte waited to find out whether their friend would be okay or not. The wait was some long seconds before Glow popped right back out.

"Well," Glow started. "I looked all over his body, and I-"

"And what?" Flyte interrupted.

"Patience," Glow scolded the boy. "I couldn't find anything wrong with it. The issue is one of the spirit, not the body."

"Shades," Ander muttered.

"Will that affect his afterlife?" Flyte asked.

"I'm not sure," Glow whistled. "But I doubt it. I mean, just look at Honorious. he ended up alright."

"That's fair," Elliot said. "But I'd rather not risk it."

"And we won't," Ander interjected. "Thank you for everything, Glow, but we really need to head out now."

"That's fine," Glow smiled. "I'll see you guys later. Good luck!"

She simply disappeared, not needing to go back through Flyte's sword to return to her home plane.

The trio left the inn, thanking the goblin innkeeper on their way out.

Their search through the city was a silent one as the despairing air would not be lifted. Not one member of the group had high hopes, but they were all also sick of being cooped inside.

Plus, a chance was a chance, and in Ahken they had one.

Still, with several long hours spent, they didn't find a single person willing and able to help them. No bright precipice or dark alley held a solid answer.

So, the three returned back to the inn 's bar to at least forget for a night.

As Ander walked in, he was very surprised, as Flyte ad Elliot were, to see that instead of a minstrel, magician, or bard, the bartender himself was entertaining the crowd.

The goblin, wearing a few much-too-tight suits, was juggling swords with his arms rigidly spread out and unbending.

Seeing Ander and his friends taking seats, he caught all of the blades and held up a hand to signify that the crowd would need to wait for a moment. Even as the drunken crowds booed, Yodym wriggled out of a few of those restrictive suits in order to move his arms.

"Wha cahn Ih doo-" the goblin held a finger up and then proceeded to belch louder than any belch Ander had ever heard despite his years at war. "Sorry about that," Yodym apologized. "Now, what can I do fer yuh?"

"We were looking to have something to drink," Elliot said.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The goblin eyed them warily. "Now, why would children like yuh want such a vile drink."

"It's been a really long day," Ander said. "And I'm not sure that we can be called children, I'm twenty-five myself, so can you please just indulge us?"

Yodym nodded, but not compliantly. "So, you are children." He pointed at Flyte. "I'm not confident that one can even drink with this new age requirement."

"What age requirement?" Flyte asked.

"Twenty," Yodym drunkenly grinned.

"Shades, he's right," Flyte said. "I'm a year off."

Elliot chuckled. "Flyte, you cast magic daily, which is illegal, but your line is drawn at underage drinking?"

"Of course," Flyte said in a falsely shocked voice. "The kind didn't know a thing about magic, but given his excess, he surely knows a lot about liquor."

Ander laughed hugely at that one.

"So," the bartender began. "What's gotcha down?"

"Yeah," one especially drunk fellow bellowed. "Tell 'im soh wee cahn ged back to watchin 'im catch!"

Yodym laughed evasively. "Don't be so impatient, yuh bum."

The man was slightly cowed as some of his fellow drunks began laughing at him.

"Anyways," Yodym turned back to the trio, looking for an answer in the least nosy way he could.

Ander sighed. "Our friend here," he motioned to Elliot. "Is cursed, but no one we've talked to in town seems to know how to halt its progress."

The laughably dressed goblin nodded solemnly. "That is hard, but it sounds like there are more options left for you, so I won't be serving you drinks tonight."

Ander gave a slight bow. "In that case, we'll see you later."

Before they made it out of the door, Yodym spoke up. "Wait," he said. "If it's helpful, I know one person who might be able to help yuh. He's a real tall fellow, but other than that 'e's alright."

"How could he help us?" Elliot asked, hope alight in his eyes.

"I'm not sure if it's the same type of curse, but 'e wears this patterned mask, and the one time I saw him take it off, 'e lost vitality at a remarkable speed, so maybe he could make one fer yuh."

"Sounds like an excellent person to ask," Ander said. "Where do you think we could find him?"

"One moment," Yodym said, scribbling speedily on a small strip of paper. "Here yuh are."

Ander grabbed the paper and looked at it. "Thank you so much," Flyte said.

"Yeah, no problem," Yodym said. "If yuh can't find that house, show the paper to anyone. They'll know where to go. Good luck with your curse!"

"Thanks!" Flyte restated as he, Ander, and Elliot left the inn once more.

The day was well into afternoon, which meant that the general look of Ahken seemed like night due to the rift fogs.

Ahken's roadways were built quite simply, likely due to its forced reconstruction every few years, which allowed the trio to find their way quite effortlessly.

Ander knocked on the door three times, and the group waited. And waited.

It had nearly been a minute when Ander walked back up to knock again.

Before his knuckles landed, the door opened with a loud creak. The hinge at which it opened seemed odd, as though it hadn't been designed to open that way. Adner soon realized what the strangeness was. 'This isn't one door, it's two!' One of the doorknobs was in the normal position, the other was farther out and up near eye level. The shorter door was inside the larger one, almost like a dog door.

And as the door opened more, Ander could see why. The person who opened the door was huge, gigantic in comparison to hmans like Ander.

After a close examination of the three of them, which might have been difficult given the face covering mask the giant wore, the giant spoke up.

"Welcome in," the voice was decidedly that of a man.

"Oh, thank you," Flyte said.

The giant was thin for his size, like he'd been stretched taller and not wider. His skin was the very same color as the night. He walked with more grace than Ander despite his height and covered face.

He sat on a large chair off to the side of the couch that the group situated themselves on.

"So" he started. "What can I do for you?"

Flyte took over for the group. "Elliot here," he motioned toward Elliot. "Is cursed, and we were told that there's a chance you could help us."

The giant cocked his head. "Do you mind showing me exactly what we're dealing with here."

"Sure," Elliot said, as he prepared himself mentally, exhaling deeply before creating a small pebble with his curse.

A knife appeared out of nowhere, spinning toward Elliot with immense speed.

The giant blocked the knife with a huge longsword of his own, moving much too quickly for Ander to track.

"Hey Hieday," he called out. "Don't worry about these ones. They're guests."

The opening of some door down some hall could be heard, and in a moment, Ander saw a woman peek out through an archway.

"Oh," Hieday said. "Sorry about that." She turned ack and Ander heard the door close.

"Sorry about that," the giant winced a little. "We haven't been quite the same since our son was lost. We were generally a lot warmer and welcoming."

Upon hearing that, Flyte seemed to get lost in thought.

"Oh Shades!" the giant exclaimed. "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Nefti, probably the worst host ever."

"Pfft," Elliot started. "That's nothing. I'm Elliot. He," Elliot pointed at Flyte, who was still thinking, "is Flyte."

"And I'm Ander."

"Awesome!" Nefti said. "Now that that's out of the way..." He turned to face Elliot. "How did you get this curse?"

"I bit a shade in self-defense," Elliot admitted, more than a little embarrassed.

"Sounds like a fun story," Nefti said. "But we'll have to make time for that later. I don't know how or why biting a shade managed to give off such a potent curse, but I do think I can help."

Elliot looked up expectantly.

"These masks," Nefti pointed to his hole-less face covering. "Every creature wearing one of these has had some part of them taken by the scourge, and putting on this fragile plate is enough of a conduit for us sacrifice for our freedom."

"Sacrifice?" Flyte asked.

"Our power," Nefti answered. "With one of these masks on, Elliot won't be able to use the powers given by his curse."

"I'm fine with that," Elliot said. "But how will I see or speak with one of those covering my eyes and mouth?"

Nefti laughed loudly. "Think of it this way. The material of the mask is special, stolen from the scourge king Rush as, say, recompense. Its unique qualities allow us to carve it into a unique shape, like a fingerprint, that allows us to ignore it through our spirit's help.

"So, we steal from the scourge to under what they gave us?" Elliot smiled. "Sounds perfect. How do I carve one?"

Nefti smiled. "Follow me, I'll show you."

Elliot followed while Ander and Flyte waited back.

Nefti stopped in his tracks. "I meant all of you," he chuckled. "I'm not leaving two strangers unattended in my house while I'm showing another stranger something that requires no secrecy."

"Oh, right," Flyte said, looking a little embarrassed.

Nefti lead the three of them to a little workshop. There were asks covering two of the walls, within an extensively large size range. Everyone but Ander missed one key feature that Nefti's mask had.

"These are all missing those swirls that your mask has," Ander pointed out.

"Correct," Nefti said. "These swirls on my ask are unique to me. They complement my soul, and every miniscule detail is there because it needs to be. Elliot will be carving his own with this tool here.

Nefti pulled out what seemed to be a silver needle on a woodcarving knife's base.

"How am I supposed to carve with that?"

Flyte answered instead of Nefti. "That needle seems to have a destruction node on it. See, it has a slightly steeper slant on the tip."

"Good eye!" Nefti said. "Though I have to ask where you learned about nodes."

"Ontin taught me about them," Flyte answered, acting as though that would be a perfectly normal explanation.

Nefti nodded as though it were.

'Huh?'

Nefti handed Elliot the needle and went back to get a mask out for him. The mask he chose was one of his smaller ones, but only because whatever species he was had heads large enough to naturally fit on their huge bodies.

"Check to make sure that fits you before you start carving," Nefti said, handing Elliot the mask. "Because it would be really awkward if you finished, and it was a few sizes too big."

Elliot stuck the mask on his face. "That fits and feels great. I can't wait to see out of it."

Nefti chuckled. "I'm glad it fits alright. Now, to use the needle, you'll have to attune your soul to it, so try to act as though you're pushing your will into it."

"Like enchanting?" Flyte asked.

"Only for the elvish and otherwise gifted, like you, but yes," Nefti answered.

Elliot took a moment, then jolted. "I think I've got it," he spoke up. His needle glowed a dark shade, and was surrounded by light blue spirals."

"That's it," Nefti said. "Now put blade to surface and let the tool guide you. It will not let you err, but it will not show you where to go either, rather you'll have to follow the ridges you find."

"And remember," he added. "It won't be done until you can see through it as though it weren't there, so don't stop and celebrate too early."

"Right," Elliot got to working.

And work he did. Elliot carved nonstop for hours, feeling out every infinitesimal curve on his soul mask.

Throughout the whole process, Flyte quietly asked Nefti a plethora of questions. Eventually, after running out of questions, he fell asleep, and around an hour after that, Elliot's mask was done.

He held his work aloft triumphantly, though tiredly. It had two spirals on it, both of them centered on the mask's diagonal and spaced perfectly between each other and the mask's edge. As the lines of the spirals got close to each other, they curved in and linked up with one another.

Strangely enough, unlike Nefti's mask, the design on Elliot's glowed with colors. The upper spiral was light blue and the lower was dark purple, with their meeting points a blend of each other.

"Nice work, Elliot," Ander said.

That seemed to stir Flyte awake, and he studied the mask.

"Why does it glow?" he asked.

"They do that when made by someone with foreign influences on their soul," Nefti answered. "Elliot carries a piece of the scourge with him, which gives his mask that dark purple sheen. That his own soul is influencing the mask shows just how powerful it is."

Nefti continued. "The same would happen for a geerht enaide if they ever made a mask for themselves. Atula, for example, wears a mask with glowing black marks, as she is the honorsoul of shadows. Whether it is one of Aliran's souls poking through, or her own, I cannot say."

"Sounds reasonable," Flyte said. After a while, he spoke up once more. "Is your wife Altruin?"

"Yes," Nefti said. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering," Flyte said suspiciously. "How many Altruins are there that are currently married to a member of your species?"

"Just her," Nefti said, a little confused. "And for future reference, I'm an archaic."

"Okay," Flyte inhaled, looking resigned. "Is Tarr your son?"

That took control of Nefti's attention fast. He stared at Flyte immediately. The mask on his face cracked, oh so slightly, as he held himself back from picking up the youth and shaking the answers out of him.

"Where," was all he asked.

"Last I saw him, he was in the Dark Guild," Flyte answered.

"Nefti just nodded, his severe anger visible by the flexing muscles in his neck.

"Hieday," he called out. "Let's start packing, there's a lead."

Nefti's wife appeared next to him, already wearing light armor and a hunter's cloak.

"What's the clue?" she asked.

Nefti explained what Flyte had said to his wife.

"Telin!" Hieday snarled. "That shadebringer of a man! Well, I ought to-"

Nefti covered his wife's mouth gently, and she in turn bit his hand. It was probably restrained enough, but Nefti recoiled nonetheless.

"Think of the children, dear," he pleaded with his wife.

She looked around. "They do seem to be quite young," she remarked. After breathing in and out for a few seconds, she seemed calmer, maybe even enough to act rationally.

"Okay," she said. "It looks like we'll be leaving now, so thank you, but goodbye."

"Wait," Flyte exclaimed, just in time. The couple paused. "Telin should be on his way to the Scar. I sent him a message through a man named Myllin."

"Oh," Nefti said. "That's not good. While Myllin is more trustworthy than most of his ilk, he is hunting down Telin. I'm sure the other guilders will be fine, but there's no guarantee that Telin will or will not show up."

Hieday began to grumble. "I suppose we might as well go to Atula's Scar, and if he doesn't show up, we can just visit his home ourselves."

"We're on our way there right now, if you want to join us," Ander said.

"Oh," Nefti said. "That sounds good, we'll do it. It should at least serve to make our travel time seem natural." Hieday nodded along with what her husband said.

'This army keeps getting bigger and bigger. It should be enough, right?'

Whatever the answer to that question was, the group prepared to leave in the morning.