“Oh, hey guys,” Honeypot said. “Lovely night for a stroll.”

He continued walking, right across their path, without even a second glance at them.

They stood hand-in-hand and watched him walk on. They looked at each other, and then back to Honeypot.

“That’s it?” Arika asked, looking bemused.

Honeypot stopped and turned. “What is?”

“You’re not going to make a joke about us holding hands? No teasing? Nothing?”

“I will have you know I am conducting very important business right now. There is a time and a place, Arika.” He shook his head and tutted. “Not everything is about you.”

Honeypot looked around, seeming to spot something. He walked over to a manhole and tapped on it rhythmically with his finger.

The manhole tapped back, returning the same rhythmic tune.

Honeypot pulled a crowbar out of his inventory and removed the manhole cover, looking very pleased with himself. A man popped his head out of the hole, looking up at Honeypot with a relieved smile.

It was one of the members of Hand of God—Felsteg’s party. He had been there at the failed ambush.

“See, I told you I knew what I was doing. Now, move over, acolyte, we’ve got sewers to explore, and sausages to dispense.” Honeypot started climbing down the hole, but was interrupted.

“Honeypot?” Orion asked.

“Yes, glorious leader?”

“Isn’t that one of Felsteg’s teammates?”

“Oh!” Honeypot said. “That’s Treyu. Say hello, Treyu.”

“Hello,” Treyu said.

Honeypot smacked him lightly on the hand. “What happened to your vow of silence, you buffoon?”

“B-but you said to—”

“It was a test. The world is full of tests to your faith. Your devotion to our cause is laughable, which is why I had you take the vow in the first place. What good is a vow if you break it the second someone tells you to?”

“Sorry, boss.”

“Not to worry, dear acolyte. Much like the aspect of chaos, I am benevolent. What matters to me is that you learn.” Honeypot adopted the air of a patient teacher. “Now, what did you learn?”

Treyu looked confused, clearly struggling to come up with an answer.

“Perfect, that’s the right answer,” Honeypot said. “You do learn, after all. Now, be a doll and move over. We’re wasting precious time.”

Treyu moved to the side, and Honeypot disappeared down the hole, nimbly climbing past his… acolyte?

“Wave goodbye to them Treyu, you don’t want to be rude!” he called from below.

Treyu waved goodbye, then replaced the manhole cover, once more sealing the sewer off from the street.

A long moment of silence stretched before either Orion or Arika spoke. They both stood there, looking at the spot where the pair of men had disappeared.

“For the sake of the enjoyable night we previously had,” he said, “can we pretend none of that happened?”

“Pretend what happened?” Arika asked with a smile. “As far as I’m concerned, the less I know about whatever that was, the better.”

She came over and took his hand again, and they resumed walking back to their rented home.

The comfortable silence returned as he basked in the comfort of her touch and the warmth of the lamplight in the surrounding street.

***

The next morning, despite the looming invasion and the mental turmoil that Orion woke to each day, he still found that he had something to smile about. He rolled around in his comfortable bed as he replayed the end of the previous night in his head.

After their unexpected run-in with Honeypot, they had walked home, both appreciating the cool night air and the silence of the town. When they arrived, they found Shadow passed out on a couch, still wearing his suit of armor and snoring loudly.

“He’s clearly had a productive day,” Arika joked in a whisper.

“I know how he feels,” Orion said. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too,” Arika said with a yawn. “I’m going straight to bed.”

“Goodnight, then. I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

Orion turned and reached for the door handle.

“Wait,” Arika said.

Orion turned, and Arika rushed to him, planting a small peck on his cheek before retreating to her door as fast as she had come.

“Thank you again, Orion. Tonight meant a lot to me.”

She turned to her door, not meeting his eyes, and disappeared into her room.

Orion rolled around in bed with butterflies in his stomach as he thought of the small kiss Arika had given his cheek. A quiet, yet entirely unwelcome noise snapped him back to the present.

“Good morning, Daddy.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Orion opened his eyes to see the glowing eyes of his familiar hovering just about his face.

“Ahh!” he yelped, reflexively sitting up and hitting his head against the solid robot’s cranium.

“Thank you,” Gizmo said, as Orion rubbed his head, trying to wipe away the sharp pain from where he collided with his familiar.

“What are you doing here?” Orion demanded.

“It is late, and I thought you might want to wake up.”

“What time is it?”

“Nine-hours, fifty-eight-minutes, and twenty-three-seconds past midnight.”

Orion cursed, getting out of bed in a rush. He gathered his clothes, deciding to skip a shower.

I’ll be smelling of rank chemicals in an hour’s time, anyway.

He noticed Gizmo standing there, staring into his soul.

“Thanks for the wake-up. What are you still doing here, though?”

“Oh, I just arrived home. I must rest for some time before continuing my work with Dave. Goodnight.” Gizmo’s limbs retracted and his eyes turned off on the spot, choosing that exact spot to sleep.

Poor little guy must be exhausted.

Orion quietly got dressed, gathered his things, and closed the door as he left his room. He found that everyone else had already gone, and Shadow had left a breakfast burrito for Orion to eat. He picked it up and made for the door, stopping for only a moment to shoot Shadow a message of thanks.

There was already a message there from Shadow, but in his distraction and haste, he hadn’t noticed it.

Shadow: ORION! Thank you so much for sending Rue here. We swapped recipes, and she’s already pumping out buffing food at a rate faster than the townsfolk who have been cooking for decades. She’s kind of terrifying. Also, she has such delicious recipes for baked goods. I can’t wait for this invasion to be over—I really want to try them out. Thanks again!

He quickly responded.

Orion: You’re welcome, and thanks for the burrito. I’m glad to hear she’s doing well. She sounded extremely competent from what I heard last night. I might see you later.

Orion closed the door to the house and locked it behind him. He ate his burrito and set off, heading back to where he could craft more of the deadly Blood Mist Potions.

***

A few hours, and several Blood Mist Potions later, Orion stepped outside into the sun for a five-minute break. He usually enjoyed losing himself in the act of crafting, but now that he’d spent two half-days crafting the same thing, it was becoming a little more tedious.

“Orion,” a familiar and chilling voice called from down the street. “We need to talk.”

Orion turned to see Felsteg approaching. Orion was immediately on edge, and scanned the street for the other Hand of God members, but he couldn’t see any of them around. Felsteg stopped a few meters away, holding his hands out in a non-threatening gesture.

“Please, I just want to talk.”

Something about the man seemed different to Orion. It wasn’t something he could put his finger on, or hope to quantify, but the previously blood-thirsty Rogue seemed less sure of himself, almost insecure.

“What do you want?” Orion asked bluntly.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry for my previous actions. I—”

“It’s not me you should apologize to.”

“I didn’t want to cause Arika any more grief. Please tell her I’m sorry, okay? I won’t be a thorn in your side for the coming battle. After we regained our memories, well, we won’t be an issue, alright? We want to help in the battle.”

Orion wanted to believe the man was being sincere, but after experiencing his cruelty first hand, he was still wary of a trap or deception.

“Why should I believe you? What could you possibly have remembered that would turn you around?”

Felsteg ran his fingers through his long hair, leaning against a wall as he thought. Eventually, he said, “I experienced more than I care to retell. Suffice to say, I was the victim of the same sort of injustice I was committing.”

Orion turned to the man to see a furious expression on his face.

“I became the thing I hated most in my previous life.” Felsteg closed his eyes, and the fury slowly subsided, yet traces of it still lingered in the lines of his face. “I can neither take my actions back, nor hope to atone anytime soon.” He looked Orion in the eyes, face resolved. “What I can do is promise you it won’t happen again.”

Orion didn’t respond for a long time as he thought of what to do next. Was the man truly changed? Even if he was ninety-nine-percent sure that he was… could Orion really risk the one-percent chance he would stab them in the back in a vulnerable moment?

He came to a decision.

“I can’t trust you. Not completely. I’d appreciate if you and your team assist in the invasion, but I don’t want you guarding our backs.”

“I understand. We can assist away from anyone else if that’s what’s necessary to contribute.”

“One more thing,” Orion said.

“Yes?”

“You were right. Talking to Arika might cause her more undue stress. I want you to leave her alone.”

“That’s fair. Please, just tell her I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Orion asked.

“I’m not quite sure I get what you mean…”

“Is it to ease your conscience, or because you want to make her feel better?”

“If I’m being honest…” Felsteg said, “Both.”

Another silence stretched before Orion spoke again. “Alright. I’ll tell her when I feel the time is right. Until then, I don’t want to see you again.”

Felsteg turned and walked away without another word, a hunch in his stride that was the antithesis of the man’s previous surety.

Orion turned and walked back into the warehouse. He could think about the implications later.

Right now, I have potions to create.

***

Honeypot was having a decidedly dull morning, especially compared to the night spent romping through a medieval sewer system. He rotated the sausage in his pan, careful to not let any of the toxin-infused oil spatter out into the pan beside it. He had two going at once, one cooking normal treats to buff allied familiars and pets, and then he had the other one.

A yawn escaped his mouth as he reflected on the fun of last night. He and Treyu had spent hours gallivanting below the streets of Valbrand, scattering their treats to-and-fro. The only downside was that it made what they were doing now—the preparation for future spelunking—boring in comparison.

“This is quite relaxing, isn’t it, boss?” his simple acolyte asked from his position across the fire, where he was turning his own venom-laden meat-vessels.

It had been a shock to discover that there was someone else in the town that had an aptitude for Animal Nutrition—it had been even more of a shock when the System made it known that Honeypot should invite the slow, yet endearing man into his clergy.

Treyu had proved he had the credentials to serve the aspect of chaos, however, by coming up with a recipe to infuse a potently venomous lizard with cooking oil. His team had been exploring an arid landscape to the eastern side of town, where Treyu had taken it upon himself to collect hundreds of the little things.

Honeypot had asked him why he’d collected hundreds of—what most would consider—useless lizards, poisonous or not. Treyu, showing a hint of promise, had said, “Well, they’re so cute and little, right? Seems it could be easy to slip one into someone’s food...”

Indeed it would be Treyu, indeed it would.

The real bolt of inspiration had struck when Treyu had taken it upon himself to fry some of the little lizards in oil. Honeypot had needed to buy more supplies, leaving his acolyte to try cooking his first batch of Bony Blood Fish into treats—a task that someone with one-eye and no hands could have accomplished. Instead, what Honeypot had come back to was the simpleton deep frying lizards—a manic grin on his face.

The resulting oil, when combined with a bit of sausage and a little will, produced a deliciously evil treat.

Lactis Laden Sausage

Common

This treat smells quite enticing, causing creatures to go out of their way to eat it. The smell, however, is where the positives end for this little parcel of evil. Any creature unfortunate enough to eat this ‘treat’ will receive a concentrated dose of the poison of the Lactis Lizard. Ingestion will lead to confusion, disorientation, amplified aggression, and possibly death.

“Treyu?” Honeypot asked.

“Yes, boss?”

“You know I insult you as a form of endearment, and while I would never admit it in front of anyone else, I really am proud of the spark of chaos you hold in your heart, right?”

“I know, boss.”

“Good.” A wicked smile came to his face. “Last batch. Then we’ll take a quick nap before we head back down into the sewers.”

“Awwww, do we have to nap?” Treyu whined.

“I know, I know, I can’t wait either, my adorably evil acolyte, but we need our brains in peak condition, so as to sew chaos as effectively as possible.”

“Aye, boss.” Treyu took his pan off the fire and returned his master’s wicked smile, if a little… stupider. “That we do.”