Martin walked back to the guest room. His room. He kept forgetting. He opened the door, taking off his High Elder robes the moment he entered and tossed them on his bed. He rubbed his face, taking a deep breath. He had spent all day in the library, reading what he could from the book. It had been translated from old Dengrian, but even then, the translator must not have had very great Santollian. He did what he could, though. If he couldn’t do his other High Elder duties because of this, then he would work hard to get his powers back. That was something he could focus on. The issue with getting Inessa pregnant was still a few weeks away, but right now he needed to work on this pressing issue. He could even talk to Indenuel in the dungeon, have a discussion with the boy. See if there wasn’t some way to get his powers back. Granted, he might wait for the mark to get lighter. He doubted Indenuel would want to see him right now.

***

The sun had set, and the four stars were above them. Indenuel and Tolomon were silent as they rode on their horses, Tolomon leading the way with gestures. Their horses had special horseshoes on to keep tree talkers from noticing them, but they were still loud animals. And they still had to make sure the horses didn’t brush up against a tree, or that would give their position away.

You need to be filled with more anger.

The more fear you have, the stronger your powers will be.

You’re not scared enough. You’re going to die.

The demons stopped suggesting he kill the High Elders. They were terrifying him instead, and it was far too convincing.

“The second you get off this horse, they will sense you. I believe there’s about two hundred Kiamese soldiers in this camp.” Tolomon whispered. He then pointed beyond the trees to the campsite. “Despite your situation, despite the mark on your chest, you are still the most important person in this world, and I will protect you with my life.”

Indenuel nodded. He looked ahead, saw the tents. Saw the guards keeping watch not that far. They were far enough in the shadows, but they wouldn’t remain there for long. “I don’t have much practice with these powers,” Indenuel said to Tolomon. “Not in the way I had with Inessa’s captors. I… I cannot guarantee you will be safe if you come help me.”

Tolomon nodded. “I understand and accept the risks.”

Indenuel took a steadying breath. He slipped off his horse, his feet hitting the ground, a lot of sensations hitting him at once. The biggest one being that he was discovered, and also his legs were still quite sore. Indenuel stumbled forward, trying to get the feeling back in his legs when the guards turned to him, aiming their crossbows.

Indenuel filled them with corrupted pain, dropping both of them, the arrows shooting toward the sky. Indenuel pushed, but he couldn’t make the pain go up to their brains.

You’re not filled with enough anger.

You don’t hate them, you’re just doing your job.

You can’t kill them with pain unless you want them to die.

Be angry, Warrior, and we will help you.

Indenuel grunted, pushing more corruption into their bellies, feeling panic flood his system. An alarm was going among the camp, men spilled out of their tents with swords and crossbows. Indenuel realized he didn’t have his own sword. They wouldn’t trust a marked individual with a sword. But right now, as he saw two hundred men scrambling out of tents, trying to find him, and him unable to kill two guards, he came to a terrifying conclusion.

The demons were right. He wasn’t ready to do this at all.

Fear. Fill yourself with fear!

“I am,” Indenuel said. His chest was heaving as panic took over.

No, you’re not!

“Then fill me with fear! That’s what you do, isn’t it?” Indenuel hissed.

There was a pause, then the demons hit his chest in full force.

It says you’re going to win the final battle after great loss.

You are pathetic.

Tolomon will have to come protect you.

Him, against two hundred.

This isn’t the final battle.

Tolomon is going to die.

Your failure will get him killed.

Indenuel continued to push the corruption into the guards. It was so much pain that they had stopped screaming, but it wasn’t enough to kill them. Indenuel let out a grunt before he grabbed one of their swords and stabbed them both through the chest. He then looked up, facing the two hundred Kiamese soldiers with his corruption not nearly as controlled as what he wanted it to be.

Two hundred and three, a demon corrected.

Indenuel closed his eyes, the panic and fear still there before he opened them. If he needed more fear to get his powers working, then he better get started. He ran into the camp, throwing pain at the men closest to him, dropping them before stabbing them. He threw pain at one individual who threw a shield, covering him and other soldiers. They lifted their crossbows, aimed right at Indenuel. He threw his hands out in a panic.

Save me!

A tree’s roots lifted themselves up out of the ground, throwing the men off balance. He tried to guide one of the tree branches to kill the man with the healing, but he couldn’t get a strong connection. It managed to push the healer over, breaking his concentration enough for Indenuel to stab him with a sword, dropping the shield.

It started to rain. It was a small drizzle, but a reaction to Indenuel’s fear.

How many more are there? Indenuel didn’t want to ask, but he needed to know he was making some progress. He didn’t get an answer. He sensed a powerful speaker to the dead before he noticed the beam of light circling the camp, keeping the demons away.

Indenuel groaned as an arrow dug into his shoulder. Another spike of panic meant another tree root lifting up, causing a half dozen men to lose their balance. Lose their balance, but not die. He had to do that himself, stabbing men in the hearts as quickly as he could, catching them by surprise.

Blood ran down his shoulder. He tried to let the panic fill him to numb him with pain as well as channel the fear of mortality to get his powers working faster. They had him surrounded before he even realized what had happened. He heard someone shout in Kiamese, and he paused, letting them think they had him cornered. Not daring to let them think he had a plan while at the same time feeling legitimate fear that his plan wouldn’t work.

The moment he heard them start to shoot, Indenuel threw his hand up, the branch wrapping around his wrist and pulling him into the air. He forced the branch to keep moving. Luckily it was erratic enough that not even the Kiam could sense what was happening. He saw, high as he was, that a man was starting to run. He was on a horse, forcing the animal into a gallop. Indenuel panicked. If the man got out, if he survived, if he knew that it was the Warrior that had turned to corruptive means, Navir would leave him for dead.

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Indenuel threw his arm out, filling the man with pain and flicking his wrist, the fear enough that the man dropped off his horse, blood running from his eyes, mouth, and ears. Indenuel tried filling more people with pain, but he managed to drop three more people while he was in the air before his corruption ran out.

The branch dropped him, whether from someone cleansing the tree or his own inability to keep the powers going, but he fell from quite high. He stumbled to his feet, right as someone punched him in the mouth. Indenuel let out a cry of pain before he went to kill him, but the man already had a sword in his chest. The Kiamese soldier fell over and Tolomon was there, both swords out.

“I can fill them with pain, but I can’t kill them.”

Tolomon threw a dagger at a soldier getting too close. “Do what you have to, I will clean up after you.”

Indenuel nodded, facing the group again. Tolomon being here gave him enough confidence, but that confidence made his powers weaken.

He’s going to die, Indenuel said in place of the demons. He’s going to die here in this battle and it’s going to be all my fault. I should have gone back to Santollia City with him. I’ll never see him again in this life.

Tears streamed down his face as pain flooded his wrists. He shot the pain forward, and Tolomon moved fast, throwing daggers, stabbing anyone who gasped in pain, working through the group of Kiamese soldiers that Indenuel couldn’t let fall.

He ran forward, dropping soldiers with pain, trying to keep a sob back. He moved toward a tent, sensing the incredibly powerful individual that kept the demons at bay. The tent was heavily guarded, and Indenuel dropped them all with pain as Tolomon stabbed them.

Indenuel stumbled in the tent to see not one powerful individual, but five. He blinked in surprise. He thought only weather control needed a group of people, but these men were all sitting together, holding hands, deep in concentration like they were changing the weather. But he didn’t sense weather control from them, he sensed they were all speakers of the dead. He wasted a moment to be surprised before he filled them all with enough pain to break their concentration. Tolomon followed after, stabbing them all quickly.

A hundred and sixty-two.

That’s all you managed to kill without us.

They’re going to escape.

You’re going to fail.

You’re going to die.

Indenuel gasped, feeling the terror hit him so hard he dropped to his knees.

“Indenuel?” Tolomon asked.

“I…”

Failure.

Nothing but a failure.

Tolomon’s going to die because of you.

So is Nathaniel.

You’re never going to see them again.

You’re going straight to hell.

We are going to feast on your memories.

Remind you of the failure you are.

Tolomon let out a groan. Indenuel’s gaze snapped in his direction. Arrows were sticking out of the back of his shield, but there were also arrows sticking out of his legs and arms. Tolomon took a deep breath, and somehow put the pain to one side. Indenuel did not have the power to heal. If Tolomon got badly injured, no one here could save him.

Indenuel stood up, anger flooding his system as he dropped his sword. Tolomon was not going to die. He didn’t deserve any of this. Indenuel stepped out of the tent, his wrists full of pain as he threw it at two individuals before forcing it straight to their brains. They dropped, and Indenuel broke the will of the trees, forcing branches in through the hearts of individuals.

The drizzle turned into a downpour. Indenuel walked through the tents, sensing the individuals, dropping them with pain or with a tree.

One hundred and fifty-three.

One hundred and fifty-two.

One hundred and fifty-one.

Indenuel dropped soldier after soldier. He was in such a rage he didn’t notice the injuries he had except for the arrow still sticking out of his shoulder.

One hundred and forty.

One hundred and thirty-nine

One hundred and Thirty-eight.

Indenuel dropped a tree on a group trying to run to him. Those not crushed under the tree dropped full of pain before he forced it straight to their brains. The men weren’t running, not like with Inessa’s captors. They remained, trying to kill him, getting far too close. They were men of honor and would remain in battle.

Ninety-four.

Eighty-eight.

Eighty-two.

The numbers went down quickly as the rage and anger continued to pump through him. Tolomon had protected him since the moment he met him, and now it was Indenuel’s time to return the favor. Tolomon didn’t want him to do this. He didn’t want any of it, and yet he came. Came because Indenuel was a stubborn ass.

Sixty-seven

Sixty-two

Fifty-four.

He was back in a rhythm of slaughter. The corruption pumped through him. Still not nearly as angry as with Inessa’s captors, but the numbers were dropping.

They are coming for Santollia City, the demons said.

They will kill Inessa.

Forty-eight.

Rape her.

Torture Adosina.

Forty-six.

Kill Rosa.

Protect them at all cost.

Thirty-nine.

Sell your soul.

Indenuel gasped, the anger and the rage lessening considerably. “What?”

Sell your soul, and you will have a perfect understanding of Garen’s beautiful powers.

No anger or rage needed, simply understanding.

Sell your soul, and level the Kiam army.

Kill them all, while you are all the way over here. Protect Nathaniel. Keep him safe. Sell your soul.

Indenuel shook off the numbing terror of their words as he forced branches into the guts of the soldiers. He heard their cries, and he started to balk at the sound. He was slaughtering these men. These good men who only wanted to protect their country. Keep the High Elders from ruling over them as well. And honestly, he did not blame them.

It was gone. The pain, the trees, even the rain stopped. The demons stopped whispering, and Indenuel stared at the twenty soldiers remaining. “Shit,” he whispered. He grabbed the sword and shield of another felled soldier. He dropped the shield in pain as the arrow at his shoulder began to throb. The men ran toward him, and he watched as five dropped with daggers in their eyes. Tolomon ran past Indenuel, sword in hand, entering the battle.

Indenuel stumbled forward, forcing himself to feel pain. To feel terror. Every injury, the arrow at his shoulder, the nicks on his legs and arms, even the split lip, came back in full force, throbbing with pain. He had a nasty gash in his side. How did that get there?

“Tolomon, no,” Indenuel whispered, stumbling forward. “Don’t die. Please don’t die.” He grabbed his side, holding his sword, his legs trembling in exhaustion. The devil’s sleep was threatening to take hold. “No. No! Not yet.”

He strained through the pain, feeling the corruption fill his wrists. He pointed it at men, watched as they gasped in pain before Tolomon slaughtered them.

The Kiamese might be honorable in defending themselves, but they would still kill him and his friends if he didn’t stop this now. Indenuel threw the pain at one soldier, concentrating way too hard to push corruption up to his brain before moving to another. He managed to kill a third before he found himself on his knees in the mud, gasping for air. He gripped his side. It stung as his muddy hands covered the wound. He stared at the blood-soaked ground. Stared as the bodies of the dead surrounded him. Exhaustion seeped into every joint. His mind became foggy. Tolomon was still fighting the last four soldiers. He would survive, he would have to.

Indenuel sensed something before turning his head to see a man coming toward him from the side. Indenuel’s senses came on, fear, panic, anger, but it was slow. Too slow. He couldn’t think straight. The sky was clear of clouds, and nothing was listening to him. He didn’t even have the energy to get up and run.

The Kiamese man walked closer to him, the look of hatred on his face. Indenuel stared at the man. They did not speak the same language, they did not grow up in the same culture, but Indenuel understood that hatred.

The man lifted his sword to chop Indenuel’s head when a dagger came out of nowhere and buried itself deep in the man’s heart. Indenuel didn’t react. He had seen way too much death tonight to react. He simply watched life leave the man’s eyes as he collapsed on the ground.

That’s it. No survivors.

You won.

Indenuel closed his eyes as the demons left. Tolomon grabbed him before he landed face first in the mud.

“Indenuel?” Tolomon asked.

He opened his eyes, staring at his bodyguard. “That’s it. We’re done.”

Tolomon lifted Indenuel’s shirt enough to see the mark before looking back at him. “I will ask you only one more time. Please don’t continue this arrangement. Don’t listen to High Elder Navir.” Indenuel had almost given way to the devil’s sleep when he forced his muddy brain to work again. He heard something he had never heard before. Tolomon was sobbing. “I am begging you, as a friend, you cannot do this to yourself. You can’t put yourself and your soul in danger.”

“I did it for you. For my friends.”

“And I speak as every single one of your friends. None of us want to lose you this way. I don’t want to lose you. Please, Indenuel.” Tears raced down his cheeks as he held Indenuel. “This will send your soul straight to hell, and I cannot let you go there.”

“I… I need to… to protect them. Matteo. Isla. Emilia. They need me to protect them.”

Tolomon shook his head. “They would never ask you to do something like this. Tell High Elder Navir no. This is enough. This has to be enough. Get the mark off your chest and keep your soul. Please.”

Indenuel shook his head, feeling the haze building. “I must… win the war… and survive,” Indenuel said.

Tolomon wiped the tears from his face. “If you keep doing what you’re doing, you will survive. But you won’t live. I’ve watched too many friends break. Don’t make me watch you break too.”

Indenuel didn’t have the strength for this kind of discussion. His eyes were already closing, the pain from the injuries too much. “I’m sorry…” Indenuel whispered. “I must… fulfill…”

The darkness sped up to meet him, and he let it.