“What do you mean?” asked Ben.

Ethel’s mention of the One without a name brought back vague memories of a dreary, rainy morning in the city of Honeydew. His companions had spoken of the God rather reluctantly as if to utter the name would be to invite ill fortune upon oneself. He tried to recall the deity's ideals, yet his mind drew blanks.

“The Goddess of Murder, Deceit, and Madness,” the old Priestess began in a low whisper. “Or that’s what they would have you believe.”

Ben chewed his lip thoughtfully, his eyes absently scanned the ceiling, mimicking the searching through his memory of that day. Voices from the corridor to the sickbay drew his attention from his musings as he watched his Keeper enter the entrance chamber with a flustered June in tow. Ann approached Ben with raised brows, and the Evoker shrugged as she gestured to the blonde woman with open palms.

“I did say she should wait for you until you came to get her,” the albino woman said.

The young man mirrored the shrug with a sympathetic tilt of his head. “It's fine. Not a big deal.” He smiled at Ann before turning his attention to Ethel once more. “Like propaganda or something?”

The gnarled woman grinned. “Not as dull as I thought, I see. Before the death of our Lord,” Ethel began —Ann shivered at the words. “The One without a name was described as the Patron of the broken and the discarded, the Goddess of change and rebirth, and the bastard daughter of Yeulidias and Nachannu. Slowly, over the years, scriptures were altered —the testament and prophecy of the last Herald being the most notable change, yet there were other, more subtle changes.”

Ben stiffened as he felt a cold chill run down his spine. He hesitated for a heartbeat. “Is it okay to talk about this here? Earlier, you had to ward us against listening in, if I remember right.”

“Let’s just say-” she said as she pointed a cracked, weathered finger toward the ceiling. “-you’ve proven to be capable enough that the need for secrecy is no longer necessary.”

Ben heard Ann gasp, and he turned to see his Keeper recoiling at the sight of the Faceless horde completely enveloping the upper half of the massive narthex. The Keeper moved to stand in front of him as if to shield him from the terrors. Her fists clenched at her sides.

“Annie, relax,” he assured the blonde woman, attempting to keep his voice as steady as possible. “You must’ve felt it, right? Their… presence. I’ve been thinking about my concept the wrong way all this time.”

Ann swallowed as she faced him with a frown. “I can’t feel anything in here, my heart… I take it these are your subjects now?”

“Ah, right. You did say that.” He glanced at Ethel before placing both hands on Ann’s shoulders. “Yeah, they’re under my authority now. I’m limited to basic commands for now —like, ‘Go there,’ ‘follow,’ and ‘stop.’ I imagine ‘kill that’ would be among the orders I could give too.”

The blonde-haired woman frowned and tilted her head questioningly. “Who would you need to kill right now, my darling? I assume you’d want to visit the Matron of Speakers with these creatures neutralized. Maybe she’d know the identity of the Betrayer’s agent, the one who turned my sisters into… those things,”

The knot in his stomach had returned, and the inevitability of his Keeper discovering their true intentions for the Matrons drew nearer. He needed to confer with Ainsle, but not before getting a better mental picture of the challenges they would face. “Hey, could you and June wait for us in the sick bay? I’ll be right there; need to chat with Ethel for a bit.”

Ann nodded. “As you wish,” she said after dipping her head and turning on her heel to comply. June sighed and shot Ben a glare before following the blonde-haired woman back to the medbay.

After he was satisfied that his companions were out of earshot, he turned to inspect the heavily barred door before him as he leaned closer to try and find a hole to look through to the nave. “So, bastard Goddesses?”

“A divine affair, if you will,” Ethel’s grin grew wider, and Ben had to muster significant effort not to blanch at the terrible pun. “Which raised questions I haven’t been able to answer. Why would the Goddess of Decay want her followers to slander her daughter? What part does the Nameless One play in the second coming of Ruin?”

Ben had begun pulling a dresser, leaning up against the large doors. “If I remember what my friends told me about the Gods, Yeulidias and Iorilai were parents to Lilitia?” he paused, holding a chair he had removed from the barricade. Ethel nodded. “And… Nachannu is Iorilai’s sister?”

“That is correct. It was written that the King of Gods and his wife’s sister plotted to murder the God of conflict. It was theorized that Yeulidias feared being challenged for his seat by Illephrre.” said the gnarled woman as she stood motionless. “Of course, these writings were denounced by the church of Yeulidias as heresy —hence the poor treatment of my God’s followers in recent years.”

The young man frowned. “Recent? I had the impression that these changes happened centuries ago.”

“Time is a matter of perspective, but enough of that. The presence of a Champion, or at the very least, one blessed by the One without a name, is a development I hadn’t foreseen.”

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Ben sighed after removing the majority of the furniture from the makeshift barricade. “Okay. I don’t think I completely understand, but I'm getting the gist of it,” he said as he regarded the old Priestess with eyes drawn and arms folded. “Is it because Champions of the no-name Goddess are that rare?”

Ethel chuckled. “Not rare. Non-existent would be more accurate. I believe your raven is the first.”

He mulled over the woman’s words for a few heartbeats before speaking. “I don’t get it… she showed up out of nowhere. Why now and not before? If she wanted to kill me, there were better opportunities she could’ve taken, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop her.” He met her sightless gaze. “I don’t know whether or not you figured it out yet, but the ‘raven’ is going to die. I’m going to kill her with my own hands as soon as my companion gets what he needs from her. If this prophecy was true, why did the guide betray the Candidate?”

Ethel appeared thoughtful for a moment. “I’m afraid I cannot say for certain. Perhaps the Betrayer influenced her, directly or by proxy, and her struggles set her on the path upon which she walks now. Be mindful that every action has a consequence, doubly so for one such as yourself, who so heavily displaces the threads of fate.”

Ben sighed once more. He had come here for a purpose that had nothing to do with what ‘fate’ had planned for him. He had begun to resent having a path laid out for him, and Jor’s presence, in conjunction with his promise to Kieran, only served to complicate matters.

What if we stick to the original plan and get the information about the poison used on the Archmage from the Matron herself? Ben thought. The Apprentice wouldn’t need the Archer, and he’d be free to settle the debt he owed her. He leaned closer to the chained door to peer through the cracks between the old wood. Ben saw nothing but darkness before turning to the old woman.

“I’d like to focus on the task in front of me for now. We’re due a talk after the business is done here anyways.” He rolled his shoulders, and the soreness suggested that the fatigue from earlier that day hadn’t completely abated. “Anything you can tell me about what’s in there?” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder toward the door.

“Therein lies the Matron of the Hand. Bound by a failed working of her own doing.”

Ben tilted his head before asking: “If she’s bound… why go through the effort to barricade this door then?”

“The source of her strength was never her martial prowess but the Acolytes she trained to be deadly assassins and infiltrators.”

“Are there more Faceless in there?”

“No,” Ethel glanced at the ceiling. “These are touched by Ruin directly. A Concept of the Champion of Nachannu. You will find the zealous inside —unchanged in appearance, yet altered in mind.”

“Okay. A bunch of highly trained killers and a restrained Matron. Got it,” Ben said before wiping the sweat from his brow. A thought struck him. “If the Champion of Ruin made these Faceless, what’s stopping her from taking control back?”

“Boy, don’t underestimate the power you wield. It is absolute. Irreversible,” the old woman said in a tone that sounded too close to scolding for Ben’s liking.

He gritted his teeth and smothered the instinct to lash out at her for daring to address him without deference. Ben grunted and turned his attention to the door to distract himself from the inner battle he was gradually losing over time. Another cursory glance through the crack in the door revealed the same dark space as before, and he decided to return to his companions and plan the assault with their input. Ann would need to be brought into the loop as well.

“I’m heading back. Going to take a rest before we do anything. You coming?” he asked the old woman, who wordlessly nodded and followed him down the corridor.

The pair arrived in the medbay shortly after, and the dimming violet light of the cloudy, late afternoon through stained windows lent a somber air to the room. Ann, Kieran, and June stood outside the arcane circle near Ainsle and appeared to be engaged in a heated conversation. As he approached the party, he noticed Jor’s large, ornate bow among the debris and picked it up. The Archer was still incapacitated; her bloodstained form lay in the same place he had seen before he left with Ethel.

“Ben,” said Kieran as he saw him approach. “I understand that you’ve acquired another level of mastery in your pursuit of power. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Ben nodded and glanced at the women who had gone quiet after his arrival. Ainsle sat cross-legged, seemingly disinterested in whatever spat they had. “What’s going on?” he asked as he noticed his Keeper’s flushed cheeks, undoubtedly due to the argument he had observed a few moments before.

Kieran coughed. “Matters of the heart, my friend,” he said with a subtle shake of his head and a pointed stare.

“Right…” Ben said, unsure how to interpret the vague answer. He stepped closer to his mentor and sat beside her outside the circle. “Ainsle, I want to open that barricaded door —after a quick rest. I guess June has filled you in on what we were up to?”

Ainsle tilted her head toward him and let out a low whistle. “Yeah, sounds like you’ve got a couple of those creepy fuckers under your control. What’s the plan?”

“A couple, sure,” he said as he squinted to regard the arcane runes in his periphery, taking care not to look at them directly. He turned to Kieran. “Do you have to maintain this circle actively? Because I think you’d also want to come and pay the Alchemist Matron a visit.”

“It’s self-sustaining, so there’s no need to maintain it. And yes, I’d like to speak to this ‘Matron of the Hand,’” said the bronze-skinned man.

“Okay, got it,” said Ben before returning his attention to Ainsle again. “I figured Kieran, June, and I pop over and clear out the nave.” He leaned closer and spoke softly. “Are you all right to stay here and keep an eye on her?” He indicated with his chin to the unconscious form of the Archer. “I’ll ask Ann to stay behind just in case anything happens… I don’t think you can break out.”

The old Berserker grunted. “Sure, don’t mind Ol’ Ain. Not like I have anything to hit the cunts with anyways,” she said with a mocking pout. “Go. Have fun, but come get me before you go to the Speakers.”

“Of course. Also, there’s the thing with Ann… I don’t like her not knowing what’s happening.”

Ainsle sighed. “Fine. I’ll talk to her while you’re gone later.”

Ben shared what he learned from Ethel with his mentor, who sat quietly and listened. The rest of the party was glad to slow down for a few hours, and they settled in to recover from their flight to the temple. The Apprentice Necromancer left the room before sunset and returned roughly two hours later. Kieran sported spiraling curved horns on his head, similar to a ram; his nails had grown longer, and his arm was whole.

“Perks of my Mother’s blood,” said the Apprentice Necromancer and Ben caught a hint of something melancholic in his voice.

“Seems handy,” he said. “Does it treat your horns as damaged, so it repairs it?”

“Something like that…” Kieran muttered.

“Okay.” Ben decided he’d let the sensitive topic lie for the time being. “Ready to go?” he said in a raised voice so that June would hear as well.

The Apprentice Necromancer’s black eyes shimmered with striations of deep crimson as he grinned with sharp teeth. “More than ready.”

June grinned, seemingly taken by Kieran’s ‘new’ appearance, and the trio left, led by Ethel, to visit the Matron of the Hand.