Kiren pushed through the muted crowd and walked up to the village hall as Maxim’s cries grew more insistent. He tried to go after them, but Excelerate restrained him in an instant, a hand around the old man’s neck.

“Creator, what’s wrong with him?” Lace asked.

“My guess? Probably has something to hide.”

Lace went to open the door. Locked, judging by the stiff rattle. Kiren kicked the handle and it splintered off after two tries. He propped the door open and they entered the hall.

It was bright and airy inside, chairs and tables stacked against one wall. Further inside was a large, empty room, presumably for village gatherings. There was a pantry stocked with food and a kitchen where it could be prepared.

Nothing immediately out of the ordinary.

“His quarters must be here somewhere,” Lace said.

Kiren opened a door that led down to a dark staircase. Windows set into the left-hand wall let the sunlight seep in, casting long shadows over the steps. An old, earthy smell wafted up at him.

“Here,” he said. “He probably lives out of the cellar.”

He descended the steps, Lace right behind him, and entered a small earthen cellar with reinforced walls. A window near the ceiling still let in some light from the ground level, but most of the room was steeped in darkness. A rickety bed took up one corner, a trunk full of clothes at its foot. A nightstand held a stack of messily organized papers.

Lace went over and looked through the paper sheets. “They’re drawings,” she said. “Of his daughters, I think.” She paused. “He’s clearly been through a lot. Is it really alright for Excelerate to bring him into question like this?”

“You heard what they all said,” Kiren said. “That’s a mighty tall pile of coincidences. There’s something fishy about him.”

He looked around the room. Nothing out of the ordinary. There was a door set into the right-hand wall, presumably leading to some kind of storage room for last year’s produce.

Kiren touched the handle.

Dirty flames burst out of the door’s corners, reaching for him with greedy tendrils. He jumped back and the flames receded with a high-pitched squeal, like metal bending. Smoke gathered near the ceiling, swirling in a vague spiral before eventually dispersing.

Kiren and Lace stared at each other for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll concede that one,” Lace said.

“Thank you.” Kiren faced the door. “Now, we need to know what’s in this room.”

“I can’t whip up any wind in here,” Lace said. “There’s not enough space. Whatever we’ve got to do, your Power is all we’ll have.”

“Got it.”

Kiren tried the handle. This time, there was no fire. The door swung open, revealing a small room.

A fire lit the walls inside the room, contained in a metal bowl atop a makeshift altar. Shadows danced all across the room, twisting and contorting in a way that confused the eye. Blood had been spattered over the walls and dried into the floor. Bones lay arranged in neat, small piles. Some animal, some human.

“Unmaker’s tits,” Kiren breathed.

Lace put her hands over her mouth. “Oh dear…”

“He’s a fucking Beast worshipper,” he said. “We need to get out of here. Excelerate will want to know about this.”

Kiren turned around. The shadows twisted around the door leading out of the room, took hold of it as if they were living beings, and slammed it shut.

“Fuck!”

Kiren shouldered the door. He bounced back, his body flaring with pain. One of the poorly healed scars on his left shoulder came open, soaking his sleeve with blood. Shadows slithered across the door like dark vines.

Laughter echoed between the walls, a female voice. Kiren looked back, but it wasn’t Lace. Another voice joined the first, both giggling.

“Creator’s mercy, what’s going on?” Lace said.

The fire inside the bowl flared up, casting the room in stark light. The flames spilled out of the bowl, onto the soft fabric that covered the altar.

“Motherfucker,” Kiren hissed. “See if you can get that fire put out. I’ve got the door.”

“I’m on it.” Lace fell silent for a moment. “I can’t create a wind, but maybe I can keep the air away from the fire.”

“Do whatever you need to! Just make sure we don’t get burnt to a crisp!” Kiren kicked the door handle. The shadows clinging to it seemed to absorb the impact like thick tar, quickly reforming around the wooden knob.

The voices laughed gleefully. Shadows formed creatures that danced on the walls, melded together in demented embraces.

“Take the flame…” the voices said, echoing into one another. “The village must be made a sacrifice… a bonfire to the stars… motherrr…”

Kiren ignored it. He kept at the handle, kicking it over and over. splinters of wood chipped off, but the door remained firmly in place.

The air grew heavy, almost sticky, stinging his throat with every breath. The heat made his back drip with sweat. He turned around and found that the fire had consumed the whole back part of the room. Lace waved her arms like a madman, forcing a breeze his way. Her efforts stilled the flames a little, and yet they crept centimeter by centimeter across the floor.

“Take the flame, and you will live…” the voices spat, growing more impatient. “Be our emissary.”

Kiren wound up for another kick. One of his legs gave out and he went down on one knee, gritting his teeth.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Curse this body. Curse it all!

He pounded the door with his fists. It rattled in its frame, but would not come open no matter how much weight and power he put behind his blows. The fatigue wore heavy on him, like a yoke. The smoke stung his eyes and constricted his throat.

“This isn’t working!” Lace shouted. “I’m going to try something else! Move to the side, please!”

Kiren didn’t have the energy to argue. He shuffled against the wall and Lace inched up next to him. Sweat beaded her forehead, and her face was a mask of utter focus as she moved her hands horizontally in slow, even motions towards the door.

The flames crept in a line towards the door while avoiding the edges.

“What are you doing?” Kiren shouted. “You’re cutting off the only exit!”

“Just trust me, okay?”

Kiren slumped against the wall. A stream of clean air wafted in his face, allowing him a few good breaths.

“Take the flame!” the voices demanded.

“Take it, and you shall be spared! Flee from it, and you will burn… like all the rest…”

Kiren looked over at Lace, brown hair moving about her shoulders with every motion of her lithe body.

Maybe there’s no good way out of this. Maybe it’s our only choice…

The fire crawled up the door, dispelling the shadows on its surface. The flames quickly blackened the wood, consuming the material faster than any normal fire would have.

“Okay, I need you to get up, Kiren,” Lace said. She swept her hands in a downward motion, and the flames on the door waned just a little, revealing charred, cracked wood. “You have to break through this door for us.”

Kiren coughed and spat off to the side. He pushed himself up against the wall, feet wobbling. A glance at Lace steeled his limbs. He drew his shirt up over his mouth, put his head in the crook of his arm, and ran.

He shouldered into the door. His momentum carried him through, wood splintering around him in smoldering pieces. The fire caught his body, greedily licking wherever it found flesh. He threw off his jerkin and rolled on the floor. Lace came out after him in a waft of smoke, coughing into the crook of her arm.

Kiren sucked in the cleaner air, retching with every few breaths. Eventually, his breathing settled back into a normal rhythm, and he let his head fall back onto the floor. He spat off to the side, mouth tasting of soot.

The voices sighed in disappointment, then faded away. The fire inside the room spluttered and petered out into nothing, leaving only smoldering cinders left of the devastation, the metal bowl having melted into a puddle.

Lace fell down on all fours, dry-heaving. Kiren stood, keeping all his focus trained on staying upright. His head spun, but as the seconds passed it slowly began to lift. He helped Lace up, and together they ascended the stairs.

A group of villagers had assembled outside the house, looking in with worried frowns. They looked even more worried once they saw Kiren and Lace.

“We saw the smoke coming from inside,” said Erena, wringing her hands. “Are you both okay?”

“We’re okay…” Lace said, her voice hoarse and breathy.

“What happened down there?” asked a man, hat in his hands.

“Your dear Maxim sprung a trap on us,” Kiren growled.

“That can’t be so!” the man said. “The elder’s a devout man, loyal to Winewater!”

Kiren shrugged. “Go see for yourselves.

He made a way through the crowd, ignoring their prying questions. Excelerate waited patiently underneath the oak tree with the rest of the villagers with a firm grip around Maxim’s neck. He scrabbled at the ground, forced onto his toes.

“You expected this all along, didn’t you?” Kiren asked as he approached Excelerate.

The Hero shrugged. “Let’s just say I had a hunch.”

“We found… unspeakable things down there,” Lace said. “He’s a Beast worshipper. No doubting it.”

“No!” Maxim screeched. He tried to fall on his knees, but Excelerate pulled him back up. “I don’t worship them, I don’t! I had to deal with them, I had no choice! They were the only ones with the power… they promised I would get them back if I did what they asked…” He seemed to shrink into himself, aged hands covering his face. “It’s not my fault…”

“Beasts often seduce the weak-minded,” Excelerate said. “Tragic, but no less unforgivable. Your meddling could have destroyed this entire community if left unchecked.”

“I had no choice…” Maxim sobbed. “Lessie… Mara… I just wanted to see my girls again… with their mother gone, I couldn’t bear it…”

The villagers went into the hall to see for themselves what all the ruckus was about. They came out pale-faced, some whispering in disbelief while others turned to curses and hard words. Excelerate gathered them all around the oak tree. Kiren was instructed to tie a noose from the rope he had fetched before. Once completed, he threw it over a sturdy branch. Maxim wailed the whole time, visibly unnerving the townsfolk, but it didn’t shake Excelerate’s confidence for a second.

“Look upon this shivering husk,” Excelerate said. “A man you all trusted, reduced to a wretched locus of evil. This is what happens when you meddle with forces beyond your control. Once you stray from the Creator’s path and allow evil to fester in your heart, everyone is at risk. Your women, your children, all those you love.”

“He planned to burn down the whole village,” Kiren said. “To please his new masters.

Shocked gasps and cries of derision went through the villagers.

Excelerate nodded. “Only one punishment befits such a crime.”

“Do we really need to execute him?” Lace asked quietly. “You could send him to Wailing Hill. He only ever wanted his daughters back, driven mad by grief…” She glanced at Maxim and quickly looked away.

“No,” Excelerate said firmly. “The Creator’s justice is firm. This brand of evil cannot be rehabilitated. It takes root in the soul.”

He turned to the crowd and raised his hand. “What say you, people of Winewater? What fate does this man deserve?”

“Kill him!” one of the villagers shouted.

“Vile fornicator!” said another.

“Traitor!” shouted a third. “Death to him!”

Excelerate lifted Maxim onto the barrel with one hand. He took the noose and threaded it over his head. “By the charges of fornication with the unnatural, conspiracy to murder, attempted necromancy, with public consensus…” He yanked the noose tight around the old man’s throat. “I sentence you to death.”

A chorus of jeering rose from the villagers. Only a few turned away. The mothers covered their children's eyes.

Excelerate kicked the barrel away and the rope went taut. Maxim dangled from the tree, limbs flailing. He scrabbled at the rope, but his fingers found no purchase. His face quickly went purple as he spluttered for air.

Lace walked away. Kiren watched the man intently.

“I will… see them… again…” he croaked. Drool escaped the corners of his mouth, and the whites of his eyes had gone red. “Unmaker’s… curse… on you.” His face twisted in a mask of rage. “Curse you all!” Spittle flew from his mouth.

He died shortly after, swaying from the tree. A pair of men tried to take him down, but Excelerate stopped them.

“He must hang for at least a day,” Excelerate said. “These ones can be stubborn to die. Once you take him down, cut off his head and drive a stake through his heart if you’re feeling cautious. You never know what dark gifts the Beasts might have offered him.

“Get a priest from the city to construct a proper binding circle at a place of your choosing. Once the body has decomposed, grind the bones to powder and carry it someplace far from here.”

“U-understood, Master Hero,” said one of the men, glancing up at the hanging man.

Excelerate nodded. He put a hand on Kiren’s shoulder. “Go fetch the girl. I hope you’ve both learned a lesson today. About what Heroes do.”

Kiren nodded. “Yes, I have.”

He glanced up at the swinging corpse. Elder Maxim seemed to stare accusingly down at him.

Justice, huh?

END OF 'LOST SOULS' ARC