The muffled sound of howling wind and the dim light made yellow through the stained-glass window greeted Ben and Jor as they arrived outside the warded chamber. Early morning had come, and with it, the confrontation with the Matron of the Speakers drew nearer. Ben held up a hand to stop the Archer before they approached the entryway to the dilapidated room.

“I figured you spoke with Ainsle, and things between you are fine.” He paused, and Jor nodded in affirmation. “Yeah. Ann and June, though, might not give you the warmest of welcomes. So, just be aware and try to avoid antagonizing yourself further while I speak with them.”

The raven-haired woman appeared to hesitate for a beat. Her shoulders raised a touch, and she turned her torso ever so slightly as if to run should the situation demand it. She opened her mouth to speak yet closed it a heartbeat later before subtly shaking her head.

Ben raised a questioning brow. “What is it?”

“The Keeper, I understand, but why the Magus’ daughter? I haven’t done anything to slight her,” Jor said quietly and pursed her lips in thought.

Ben regarded the tall, slender woman for a moment. The dark rings under her bloodshot eyes and the nearly imperceptible way her hands shook when she stood still gave him pause. He took a deep breath and smothered the impulse to grab her by the throat —the weak, duplicitous creature that she was— and crush her windpipe so that he may savor the moment when her life-

“Ben?” Jor interrupted the thought. Her voice was soft, yet the tone was raised in what tasted like fear. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He realized he had been smiling and ran a hand through his hair before exhaling slowly. “It’s nothing,” he said abruptly. “Kieran’s Master cast a spell that showed us the incident. The day you, Eric, and Lucianna paid him a visit.”

The Archer stiffened at the words, and her tired green eyes widened. “I didn’t know what I was-”

Ben held up a hand in interruption. “Doesn’t matter, she saw what she saw. Besides, it’d make sense if her late partner, the one whose teacher you poisoned, didn’t paint you in the best light.” He sighed and met her gaze. “Just saying so that you know the reason for her possibly taking out her grief on you.”

Jor nodded wordlessly yet didn’t relax her posture. Ben returned the gesture and tilted his head toward the room's entrance. The pair entered, and at the sight of the Former Squad Leader, Ann, who had been sitting quietly next to a sleeping June, shot to her feet with her face contorted into a snarl.

“Get away from him,” the Keeper spat, causing Jor to recoil and turn on her heel.

Ben grabbed the fleeing woman by the crook of her elbow and faced the blonde woman. “Annie, relax,” he said in a firm tone. “I brought her here.”

Ann straightened and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Her nostrils flared, and her lips drew into a line as she inhaled sharply. “Of course, my heart.”

“Let’s have a seat,” he said as his gaze swept the room to find that a grinning Ainsle occupied the only chair in sight. “Or we can stand.” He led the trembling Archer toward the veteran Berserker, who gave him a wink.

Ben leaned against the wall near the doorway and gestured with an open palm for his Keeper to sit on the bed as she had been upon their arrival. Jor stood awkwardly next to Ainsle as June sat up groggily, apparently awoken by the noise of conversation. The Evoker regarded the raven-haired woman with a frown before looking at Ben questioningly.

“June, Ann,” Ben began, facing each of his companions as he addressed them. “Jor is going to be joining us for a while.” Ben felt the subtle chill of his Keeper’s Aura emanate from her form as he spoke the words. “I’m going to be open about my plans,” he told Ann as he met her gaze. “We’re heading to the inner sanctum to meet with the Speaker. I won’t pretend that I don’t intend to kill her-”

Ann gasped and hurriedly placed a hand over her opened mouth.

“I understand this might be difficult for you, so this is why I’m going to ask that you stay behind while the four of us go.” He paused and regarded June. “That is if you’re up to it. If not, I totally get it, and I don’t blame you for sitting this one out after… after everything.”

“No,” said June firmly. “I want to see this through. I want to meet the person who did-” She gestured with open palms to their surroundings. “-all of this. I want to be there when you do it.”

Ben’s gaze remained locked on hers as he dipped his head. He wondered whether it was a good idea to bring the Evoker along, but he decided that it wasn’t his choice. Ann, on the other hand, would only pose a danger to herself and the rest of the party were she to join the group, Ben thought. He’d have to be firm, regardless of his opinions on freedom of choice.

A cleared throat drew his attention to the skittish Archer, who spoke with a soft, meek voice. “Would having the Keeper with us not be the wiser choice? A countermeasure to the Aura magic the Matron uses…” Jor trailed off, her speech lacking the confidence and surety he’d known her for.

What happened to her? He asked himself. “Yeah, it would probably be the best thing to do, if I’m honest, but…”

“But that’s what those cunts want us to do,” interjected Ainsle as she turned to face Ben with a grimace. “You gotta tell the girl if you want to use her to the fullest.”

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Jor’s wide green eyes darted between the mentor and the apprentice.

Ben rubbed his eyes and sighed. “You’re right,” he conceded and addressed the Archer. “Jor, I have reason to believe that Ann will die if we take her with us.”

The blonde woman appeared distraught as she perked up at the words with slanted brows. “My heart, I would gladly-”

“And that’s something I’m not willing to let happen,” Ben interrupted, attention not moving from Jor. “There’s a piece to this puzzle that I can’t figure out. We know she is a powerful Aura user, Champion of Nachannu, and the one behind those Faceless. I also think we must subdue her for a… dream walk. I mean, I’ll need to face her in Ann’s domain.”

Ben ignored Ann’s clenched fists and quivering lips as he watched Jor’s head tilted in thought. The gesture was familiar; the same mannerisms of the inquisitive, problem-solving Squad Leader he remembered her as. Her expression seemed to brighten at the prospect of devising a strategy to overcome the handicap they would undoubtedly face without Ann’s help.

“Dream walk?” she asked.

“It’s a thing the three of us can do. Or what Ainsle and I can do for the time being.”

June, who had remained silent for the entire exchange as she quietly observed the raven-haired woman with furrowed brows, spoke up. “It’s a form of astral projection, from what I understand. Kieran told me some of his theories.”

Ben frowned at the mention of the term. It seemed familiar, yet there was a thorny gap in his memories when he tried to focus on the thought. He shook his head in frustration. “More specifically, as Champions of Illephrre, we can enter each other’s domains while asleep.”

Ben recounted their meeting with the creature in Ann’s domain. At the same time, his Keeper stared at him with brows slanted in confusion. Ainsle supplied her theories when he described the bound state of the Avatar of Sacrifice, including the idea that the reason Ann couldn’t enter her domain at will was a result of the indoctrination or control the Speaker had over her. A thought struck Ben during the retelling, and he turned to his Keeper, who —sat with clenched fists and glistening eyes— was not handling the revelations well.

“Annie, you don’t have to answer in front of everyone here,” he said not unkindly to his companion. “You mentioned a concept of Sacrifice back in the Ancient woods, and if I recall correctly, you haven’t told me of any others you have. How many concepts do you have?”

“Only one, my heart,” she met his gaze, and Ben’s throat tightened. “The one that shares its namesake with my Avatar. The concept of Sacrifice Self.”

Ben felt a subtle vibration in the pit of his stomach at the utterance of the divine power. He turned to Ainsle as she let out a low whistle.

“Ol’ Ain was bloody right, I say.” She faced the War Dancer with a wide grin on her face. “The others had three.”

“The others?” Ann asked.

Ben raised a hand. “The Wielders of Sacrifice before you.” As if cogs were clicking into place in his mind, Ben felt the realization as oddly satisfying yet also deeply concerning. “The Matron has either bound your abilities or somehow…”

“Usurped them,” Jor added. Ben watched as she absently reached for non-existent braids to twirl in her fingers. She hurriedly folded her arms after glimpsing his attention on her. “There isn’t a lot of literature on the Champions of Nachannu, as the Goddess of Decay isn’t one that is openly worshipped in the Empire. Excluding her magic, we’re in the dark regarding her divine powers.”

“That changes things,” Ben said.

Ainsle cackled. “So, we gonna carve the bitch up then?”

“I’m not sure,” he said absently as he stared at the faded mural on the stained-glass window.

The early morning sun illuminated the chamber, and Ben made out three figures etched on the glass. A tall, polearm-wielding woman stood in the middle atop a hill, flanked by a shorter female figure with a stylized depiction of hair wound into twin buns. The third figure was a bald man dressed in flowing robes; he stood with open palms in an unarmed stance. The image of the dark-skinned monk flashed before his eyes as he beheld the art depicting the first three Champions of Illephrre.

The old Berserker grunted and drew his attention to her once more. “Yeah, probably still gonna have a nice rough and tumble anyways.”

“Hopefully not,” Ben said before turning to the raven-haired woman. “The thing is, we don’t know how to break her hold on Ann. We guess we will have to meet her in Sacrifice’s domain, but that’s not a sure thing.”

“I’ve got it,” said Jor. “Assuming resistance in the inner sanctum, we will need to fight our way in. After that, we would need to nullify her magic to tip the scales in our favor. Being mana insensitive as we are, our martial abilities should, in theory, give us the advantage in the engagement… Even with her concepts, being stripped of her offensive magic should allow us to win decisively.”

Ben nodded yet refrained from sharing the fact that he was no longer a Null in the hopes of avoiding derailment of the conversation again. “Right, that makes sense. But how would we nullify magic?”

“I have… something. It doesn’t have a name, but I can create a pocket —a Null field, where no magic can be cast from within.”

June sniffed, and Ben watched as the albino woman’s brows raised. He turned to Jor. “That’s perfect.”

“Magic can still be cast into the space. And it’s not a very large area,” Jor added quickly, the confidence seemingly drained from her tone as she spoke in a rush.

“It’s good enough,” assured Ben. “So. Plan?”

The former Squad Leader wrung her dirty, pale hands together. “We infiltrate in this formation…”

The party discussed their plan of attack for the next hour. Reiterating points of possible weakness and after identifying flaws in their approach. Ann remained silent and prepared a light breakfast for the group with dry rations, while June participated in the discussion when asked about her abilities and range. Ainsle nodded along with a manic grin on her face —the lust for conflict and vengeance evident— as Ben and Jor spoke about the details and eventualities of the incursion. The party settled on a formation with the Faceless taking up the vanguard, followed by Ben, Ainsle, and then June. Jor would take the rear, staying close to the shadows and only revealing her presence once they have a positive visual on the Matron.

Satisfied that there was no more planning to be done, Jor bade the group to ready themselves for the operation, and the party complied. After having his halberd brought to him by one of his creatures, Ben approached Ann and sat beside her on the bed. The rest of the party left the room at the sight of the act, not wishing to impose on their exchange.

“Please think this through, my heart,” Ann said softly. “Perhaps we have made an error in our assessment of the Speaker. Maybe she is not responsible for what has befallen the temple.”

Ben schooled his expression into one of impassivity. “Ann, I’m sorry for doing this.”

“Don’t be sorry, my love.”

“No…” Ben’s stomach twisted, and he felt his throat tighten. “I’m sorry for this.” He placed a hand on hers and met her gaze.

She smiled at the contact, and her red, puffy eyelids seemed to mirror the gesture. Ann stiffened as Ben released a pulse of intent through their bond. Her smile vanished, and she closed her eyes. “Do with me as you wish, my Champion.”

Her words caused his chest to ache, yet he held firm.

“I Command you to remain here until my return.”