Timura kicked her robe back and made a last minute adjustment, adjusting the vase on the stack of boxes. Vaela eyed her body appreciatively–naked except the Ring Vaela had sold her, worn on her left index finger. In all their run-throughs, Timura had never mentioned she would be naked. It was a good addition.

A really good addition.

Robes rustled beside Vaela and she tore her gaze away. Surah finished untying his sash and grabbed his lapels. Vaela flicked his hands away with her stick.

“Stop! What are you doing?”

“Well, when on Dome…” He nodded to Timura’s naked body.

“This is a ceremony.”

“Mmhm. I’ve been to enough “ceremonies” to know an orgy when I see one.”

“I helped her practice for this!”

“Oho! I bet you did. And how did she perform?”

“No, I–” Vaela floundered for a moment longer and then threw her hands up. “Forget it! Let’s get some wine before it starts.” She spun towards the table on the far side of the room where some wooden cups were set up before Surah could make another comment. As they crossed the room, she pulled him close. “But seriously, what are we going to do? We can’t stay down here forever.”

They reached the table and she rested her staff against it. She swiped the pitcher and poured wine into two cups. Surah sat back against the table. “We could leave Xufont.” She jerked to look at him and he rested a hand on her shoulder. “Think about it. Neither of us are tied to this city. We could go to one of the other big cities, start fresh. Leave the Church and all its crazies behind.”

Vaela set the pitcher down and rested her palms on the table. Leave Xufont. It was so simple. She’d go on her adventure, wasn’t that what she’d always dreamed of anyway?

She picked up the cups and handed one to Surah. “I can’t. I want to leave, but on my terms, not chased like rat.”

The blonde priestess flashed through her mind, despondent on her knees, hair silver in the moonlight, her Ice Spear melting into the streets.

No. Vaela straightened up and raised her chin. She couldn’t run away from Kaverlna. A true adventurer didn’t flee.

She’d get stronger, that’s for damn sure. So strong, no one would ever tell her what to do or where to go.

Surah tipped his cup at her. “I don’t want to scurry around like a rat, either. Not unless a very handsome man is paying me a very handsome amount to do so around a room.” He raised the cup to his lips, but lowered it before taking a sip. “Also, he should be dressed like a cat.”

Vaela laughed and shook her head. “You can stop fantasizing aloud now.”

“With a really long—”

“Seriously, Surah?”

“—tail.”

“Oh.” Vaela tapped her cup to his. “Well, whatever gets you going, buddy.”

He held his cup poised at his lips, but then narrowed his eyes and slowly pulled it away once again. “By the way, what was wrong with the wine Kaverlna offered us?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I’m pretty sure she put blood in it.” Vaela took an innocent sip from her cup.

“Huh.” Surah tilted his head. “Well, okay, how much blood?”

Vaela choked and almost spat her wine out. “What do you mean how much?! Is there an acceptable amount of blood to you?”

He held up a hand. “Now hold on. Someone cuts their thumb opening up wine that they’ve been trying very hard to share with you. I mean, it would be rude…”

“Surah!”

“Ok, ok.”

They walked back through the room, only the tap of Vaela’s stick filling the silence between them, and drifted towards Timura’s station.

Vaela glanced over at him suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’ve given me wine with your blood in it before.”

He took a sip and swished it in his mouth for a few steps before swallowing. “Hmm. With my blood? No. No, I would never.” Vaela drank her wine and stared resolutely at Timura as she finished filling the vase with oil. Surah waited expectantly and then finally nudged Vaela. “You’re not going to question that?”

“Nooope.”

“Aw…”

Most of the scattered members of the secret society had formed a semi-circle around Timura, standing back ten feet or so. The majority didn’t give Vaela any indication of impressive physical prowess. They were a doughy-looking group, in general. Not that their appearance necessarily belied their Power. Someone here had to be powerful—it was a secret society, after all.

Vaela ducked over to Timura. “Hey!” She gave a small wave and kept her gaze firmly at eye-level.

“You came!” Timura hugged her, pressing her entire body into her. Vaela could practically feel Surah’s eyebrows bouncing with glee and her neck flushed. Still, it would be rude not to hug her back.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Timura pulled away and rubbed her hands together. “Oh, it’s so nice to have support here!” Her eyes darted past Vaela, as if looking at something at the far end of the room. Vaela glanced over her shoulder, but by now, everyone had gathered around, leaving the rest of the cellar unoccupied.

Poor thing, she must be nervous. Vaela leaned her stick against the crates and clasped Timura’s hands. The Shadow in the Ring called out to Vaela like a whiff of smoke. “You’re gonna be great! I just wanted to wish you good luck before you started. We can talk after. Actually, I do have questions about this group, like if you have any strong members here.”

Timura’s hands jittered in Vaela’s and her eyes flitted towards the back of the cellar again. “Yeah… uh, oh, thanks! Um, strong members?”

Vaela scanned the back of the cellar again. Nothing there, except the shadowy outline of meat hanging from hooks in the darkness. “Are you okay?”

Timura whipped her hands back and laughed, a slightly more shrill sound than her normal laugh. She twisted the Ring on her finger over and over. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” She turned back to her table and straightened the vase and vial as she had been habitually doing so since Vaela arrived. “Yeah, yeah, we’ve got powerful people.”

Vaela slid around to the other side and tried to catch Timura’s eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“No. It-it’s just a lot.” She bit her lip, hard, and finally met Vaela’s eyes. “I-I may have gone too far. Might go too far.”

“Too far? What’s going on?” Vaela leaned over the table. “Is someone making you do something?”

“I just wanted to… he said it would—” Timura looked back into the room again and twitched. “It’s time!” She waved Vaela away. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to do it.” She caught Vaela’s hand and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. “Don’t stand too close.”

“What are you—”

Timura pushed Vaela back towards the others and spread her arms. “I’m going to begin!”

Vaela snatched her stick and hurried back into the crowd next to Surah. Whatever Timura had gotten herself into, she better be able to handle it. She squeezed her stick with both hands.

Don’t stand too close? No way was she backing up. If Timura might be in trouble, she wanted to be front and center to come to her aid.

Timura held the vase overhead and looked up at the ceiling. “And now, I shall summon… one of the Twisted!” She tipped the contents onto her body. Oil spilled onto her neck and ran between her breasts and down her abdomen. A floral scent diffused through the air from the perfumed oil, making Vaela’s head swim.

Focus! Vaela shook her head clear. Stay sharp.

Timura rubbed the oil into her body and Vaela’s grip tightened on the stick further. She was not making this easy for her to concentrate. Timura smashed the vase on the ground and Vaela jumped. The pieces scattered across the floor.

When Vaela looked back up, Timura had grabbed the vial of blood and uncorked it. “O Twisted one… accept my offering!” She held the vial up high for all to see. “My own blood–I offer myself as a bridge to the unholy Pits…” She poured the blood into the bowl at her feet, now surrounded by shards. The drip of blood filled the room.

Timura bowed her head and pressed her palms together. She brought her hands to her head, her lips touching the Ring. From the bowl, a tendril of Shadow sprouted and branched like a sickly tree. It grew to the size of a child, filling out to a humanoid shape. Skeletal wings unfolded from the back. Vaela nodded in approval. It was good. Not great–no one would be running in fear–but it was well done.

Timura reached out and “placed” a hand on its head. It wrenched and she jumped back in surprise. It contorted again and Timura looked at Vaela. She looked genuinely confused. Vaela took a step forward.

The Twisted dove towards Timura and latched onto her abdomen, skeletal legs clinging like an insect. Timura stumbled back and crashed into the crates as she batted at the creature. Her hands passed through the Shadow and its wings fluttered, undeterred by her efforts to dislodge it. The top crate slammed into the floor and Timura fell with a shout.

Vaela sprinted forward and swiped at it with her stick. It breezed through and the Twisted reared up on its legs. Its hands splayed into claws, raised high over its head. It plunged them downward into Timura’s chest and she screamed as its body disappeared into her. Vaela fell to her knees and grabbed at one of its legs, but her fingers passed through, grasping nothing.

Several other members ran forward and Vaela touched Timura’s shoulder. “Timura, are you okay?”

“I-I feel–” Timura spasmed, her back arching off the ground. Her eyes closed and her entire body jerked on the ground for a few seconds before going limp.

“Timura!”

Vaela dropped her stick and leaned over Timura. She put both hands on her friend’s shoulders. They twitched under her fingers, Timura’s breathing in starts. Vaela stared at her chest where the Twisted had disappeared. It almost looked like there was a mark there.

No. More like… a hair?

She leaned closer. The hair protruding from the center of Timura’s chest branched.

Timura’s eyes jolted open and she raked at her chest. “Get it out! GET IT OUT!”

Vaela fell back, grabbing her stick desperately.

“HELP M–”

The hair exploded upward like a tree growing impossibly fast. It sprouted from Timura’s chest and thickened into a large arm. The hand at the tip jerkily unfurled, revealing several large claws.

Vaela scrabbled back away from it.

It’s not real. It’s only Shadow. It’s only Shado–

It slammed into the ground and the floor shook. The other members shouted and panic erupted.

Another claw erupted from Timura’s body and crashed into the floor. A figure pulled itself out from her, rising up until it towered over her limp body. The Shadow condensed to form a reptilian head with gaping jaws.

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It was only Shadow.

The crowd fled towards the stairs. Vaela followed the creature’s body down to where it erupted from Timura.

Oh, Timura.

Her limp body was splayed on the floor, the Ring on her left hand glinting in the torchlight. The creature pulled itself fully from her body, standing so tall it had to crouch slightly to avoid the ceiling. Timura’s chest barely rose.

She was alive.

“She’s still…” Vaela looked around, but the members of the society were all fighting to get up the stairs. The ones at the very top pounded on the door. It shook on its hinges, remaining closed.

The creature hunched all the way over, its back bowed towards the ceiling, and it lowered its face towards Timura. Skeletal wings ripped out from either side of its spine.

It wasn’t… it wasn’t real.

It sniffed Timura and then opened its jaws. Vaela stumbled to her feet, stick trembling in her hands as she raised it into some semblance of a defensive position. “Get away from her!”

The creature whipped its head to face Vaela. Its entire body was black Shadow, its face eyeless. It thrust its head forward and spat a black tar-like substance. She shouted and raised her arms over her face. The sticky substance landed on her arms and a drop flecked her cheek. It burned and she twisted to the side, swiping it from her face.

She fell forward, a step towards Timura. The creature extended its wings, blocking the light around them.

Run. Get away.

But Timura was still breathing.

The creature crawled in front of Timura and faced Vaela fully.

Run away. From the Shadow. From the Church.

Yes, she’d run away.

Vaela raised her stick, hands weakly gripping the wood.

She’d save herself, the only person she possibly could.

She stepped forward, her legs almost buckling, sick with fear.

The creature’s mouth gaped open, wider and wider, fangs growing as fast as its jaw allowed. It wasn’t real, but it would tear out her heart.

Beat by beat, her blood would spray against the walls.

She screamed and charged forward.

Better her blood cold on the walls than warm inside a coward.