Hot and cold waves washed over Lorelei’s body. Sometimes it felt like she was melting, having flames crawling all over her skin. Then right after that, chilling ice-needles pierced her bones as if she was lying naked under a pile of snow. Her breathing became labored, her consciousness – hazy, and her vision was starting to blur. Luckily, every interval between the hot and cold waves brought some blissful relief to her aching body. At those times, the pain would subside and the young woman would doze off, only to be awoken again some seconds later by her peculiar ailment.

Lorelei bit her lip. From her knowledge and experience, she knew that something was seriously wrong. It was only a matter of time before her body would succumb to the strange fever. With all her remaining strength, she tried thinking about a solution, despite the fog that was starting to cloud her mind. There had to be something she could do. Something she had read or learned about from master Levi. Something? Nothing. Lorelei had never seen or heard before of an ailment like hers, and she had no idea how to cure it. And above all else, magic was involved here – a forbidden art she knew nothing of. She felt again lost and defeated, just like when the Red Hands had kidnapped her. Frustration coagulated in her heart, and the feeling it brought was worse than her aching bones. She felt so small and powerless that it made her want to scream. The unwanted images of the recent events entered her mind in an agonizing procession and filled her mouth with a foul taste.

A sudden spasm shook Lorelei’s body. She broke in two, vomiting and coughing as bitter bile burned her throat.

She heard Noah’s shout and could see through the blur his worried face as he leaned over her. The usually steady hands holding her weakened body trembled ever so slightly. He brushed her hair away from her face and whispered in her ear something she couldn’t comprehend.

Another blurry image entered her vision and Lorelei managed to recognize Gregor. His tired face was almost as white as his hair. Well, he really looked like a snow elf now. Wouldn't he melt in the sun? No. What was she thinking?

The binshi took her wrist in one hand and his other palm hovered over her forehead.

“What’s wrong with her?” Noah’s usually calm voice sounded so taut in Lorelei’s ears that it shook her.

“I don’t know.” The shaman’s cold fingers touched her burning cheek and made Lorelei whimper. “The Light that lady Shana conjured should have purged the foreign essence from the body. The girls and I have been purified from the miasma, and the same goes for you. But lady Lorelei still shows signs of being ghost-touched.”

“What does that mean?”

“For some reason, the lady wasn’t purified and the dhrowghost’s malice continues to eat her from the inside.”

“What!? Can’t you stop it? What can we do?”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe the clan elders would know better.”

“We need… go now…”

“…Ildemar… can’t walk or carry…”

“Careful!... Hear… someone… coming!”

Their conversation carried on, but Lorelei couldn’t keep up as the men’s voices ebbed to a low murmur. She blacked out for a moment and when she next came to it was to the sound of hoofs and neighing horses. Someone shouted and there were soon several shadowy figures surrounding their small group.

It was them! It was the Red Hands! They were back! In the face of this new danger, Lorelei’s thoughts cleared for a brief moment. She struggled to move but Noah’s tight grip prevented her from doing much.

“It’s alright. Calm down.” The young woman felt him lifting her up and carrying her away. “It is just sir Lukas and his men. They are allies. We are going home.”

Home. The word lingered in her mind before slipping away. This was a lie. She wished his words were true and not empty assurances born in the spur of the moment. But they weren’t. They were all lies. She had no home. That was a fact. No matter how hard she tried to pretend, the white sunny halls of Ildemar were a foreign place. As always, she was just a burden, an imposter, a troublesome existence, just like when she lived with the Ortens. Well, in a year’s time, all this would be over anyway. Or maybe after all of her recent mistakes, Noah would divorce her even earlier? Or worse. Would he kill her? Did her mistakes warrant capital punishment?

A new, stabbing pain attacked her heart but the young woman ignored it. She was so tired. Her mind plunged into darkness yet again.

When she awakened this time, Lorelei felt the wind brushing against her cheeks. Was she flying? No. Her body swayed rhythmically with the galloping horse, cradled in the firm but gentle embrace of familiar arms. Lorelei’s head was resting on Noah’s chest and she could faintly hear the strong beats of his heart. A heart that was almost pierced because of her. Maybe her current ailment was meant as an atonement for her mistakes?

She lifted her blurring eyes and traced the resolute line of his jaw. From this distance, the young woman could see the fierce persistence written all over his face. Noah’s dark complexion was far away from its usually healthy golden tone and now looked ashen and tired. Was he injured by that demon after all?

His lips moved slightly and Lorelei had to strain herself to hear the faintest of whispers:

“Hang on. Hang on just a bit longer.”

“It’s alright, your highness.” Lorelei was surprised how brittle her own voice sounded but still managed to overcome the fatigue, pain, and guilt that were trying to drown her. “Don’t push yourself too hard. It’s bad for your health. You should stop and have some rest.”

“Foolish girl!”

These were the last words she heard before returning to the darkness. She was unable to see the pained look in her husband’s eyes, nor could she feel his grip around her waist tightening.

The horse raced along the muddy road, chunks of dirt and pebbles flying from under its hooves. Ten lengths behind it, a group of riders followed suit, some of their steeds carrying two people in the saddle. They proceeded in silence, with eyes peeled for any signals from the lone knight in front of them.

As the road took a sharp turn, the strange cavalcade soon disappeared from sight. In a few more minutes even the noise of galloping horses died out completely. Heavy stillness enveloped the forest. There were no birds chirping in the trees. Not even an animal rustling in the decaying foliage could be heard.

The sudden crack of broken branches signaled a foreign presence. From the bushes near the road, two men jumped out and walked briskly in the direction the riders came from. Soon after, they emerged on a small clearing that looked like a wildfire had burned there. The trees were black and misshapen. The grass was charred and dissolved in small wisps of dust under one’s feet. Amongst the blackness, white animal bones sparkled like fresh snow in the sunlight. But there was also another set of bones – broken into small bits and made of black substance that looked almost like obsidian. What was even more terrifying was that these remains matched the size and shape of a human child.

Spotting the obsidian-like bones, one of the two men ran towards them. He fell on his knees, scooping up some of the remains with trembling hands.

“My life’s work. Gone! Destroyed! It couldn’t even show its full potential! My baby! They destroyed my baby!”

As the shaman sobbed and wailed, his companion carefully looked around. Behind the silver mask, his lips were curved in a sly smile. Even though it ended in failure and the duke of Norden managed to escape, it was a truly magnificent performance! This was on a completely different level than the weak summons he had seen conjured by shamans. Those measly spirits and wraiths paled before the might he had just witnessed. The drals too had been useful, but this one was a true treasure. With several of them in his possession, no one would be able to stand in their way.

Busy daydreaming, lord Argente realized a bit too late that the clearing had sunk into silence once more. The sobs of the shaman had quieted down and he just sat there, hunched over the bones. Then quiet laughter rang out in the clearing.

“Hey, what has gotten into you?” The masked man cautiously approached the kneeling binshi.

“So, my limerian friend, how did you like the demonstration?” The voice that came out of the shaman’s mouth was not his own. It was deeper and sounded strangely distant as if the one talking was not standing there.

“What… Who the hell are you?!” Master Argente scurried backward, his sword jumping immediately in his hand.

The shaman stood up and dusted his tunic. He then turned around and faced his scared companion. This innocent gesture forced the masked man another step backward. In stark contrast with their previous deep blue color, the binshi’s eyes were now night-black and filled with tiny silver sparkles.

“What in the names of the Two Gods…?”

“Calm down, limerian. This is a small side effect from merging souls with Tengar here. My name is… well, for now, you can call me Akh-Moren, The Guiding Star. I am the leader of the Red Hands.”

“You don’t say.” Lord Argente lowered his sword but didn’t put it away. His eyes were glued on the shaman who was playing with a piece of obsidian bone. “And to what do I owe the honor of meeting you like this, lord Akh-Moren? My appointment with your men is still a day away.”

“The disturbance you’ve caused on the spirit plane was enough to attract my attention. Besides, I must confess, I was eager to finally meet the messenger of my greatest benefactor.”

“The second prince will be overjoyed to hear that. He has often voiced his regret of having to use middlemen instead of meeting you in person.”

“Indeed.” The binshi lifted the piece of glass-like bone and let the sun shine on it. “You have quite the glib tongue. Your master sure has a good eye for his servants. It won’t be an exaggeration to say that your potions are miraculous, limerian. Tengar is not the strongest of shamans but with their aid, he was able to create an almost perfect dhrowghost.”

“You flatter me, lord Akh-Moren. Yet, I owe you an apology. We were discovered by the mutts of Norden and lost the precious cargo for the slave market. Even worse, we lost your gift and revealed our trump card to the enemy. I fear that this might influence the plans you and the prince have.”

“Yes, quite the messy situation. Nevertheless, this changes little in our relationship. The duke can’t do anything even if he knows about the existence of the dhrowghost. As for the state of the shipment, even without the slaves, I expect full payment from your side. I have lost men and valuable hexes in this ordeal, so it is only fair.”

“You must be jesting.”

“Oh, but I’m not.” The Shaman stepped forward, forcing the masked man to lift up his sword again. “Put that useless steel away, limerian. You might kill Tengar, but you can’t harm me with it. And don’t be so on edge. After all, the money you give me will be used to further your master’s agenda.”

“How noble of you.” With a slight hesitation, master Argente sheathed his blade. “But as I see it, you are just working to take over Norden for yourself.”

“Well, of course! I see your master entrusted you with some details about our agreement.”

“You stir up chaos and shake the seat of Norden and we provide you with the means to do so.”

“And as a reward of helping you remove a common enemy, I get what’s rightfully mine. Both sides win, won’t you say so?”

“Still, my master won’t be pleased that we have missed such a fortuitous opportunity to kill the duke.”

The shaman sighed and shook his head.

“It was outside of anyone’s expectations that the Star-gazer would awaken so early. Still, we gained something incredibly precious from all this.”

“And what might that be?”

“A way past castle Ildemar’s defenses.”

This statement made the masked man freeze on the spot. Very slowly, the binshi lifted up the obsidian bone in his hand. Tiny wisps of smoke started swirling around the fragment. The light in the clearing dimmed, and an almost inaudible whisper rose in the air.

“It is not an easy task to purify a dhrowghost. Especially for an inexperienced child that hasn’t fully awakened yet.”