Less than an hour later, Jack had recovered from his wounds enough that he was no longer bleeding ichor onto the floor, but he’d had to let his regeneration lapse to recover mana.

Most of his broken bones had pieced themselves back together but the worst of his injuries were still tender, and his panel told him he hadn’t completely convalesced. His earlier estimate seemed pretty accurate, and he guessed it wouldn’t be much longer before he was in fighting shape once again.

The others busied themselves with striking their simple camp, readying their gear, and teasing Jack about the collection of rags that currently passed for his outfit. Eventually, he had enough and wiggled his rucksack out from under the bedroll where it served as his pillow.

“Oh, c’mon, Jackson, we’re just teasing,” Layla winked at him.

“Nope. You’re all gonna stand here and watch me change,” he grunted and began fishing through his rucksack.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The three of them turned and exchanged looks, and even Erin stifled a giggle. Layla and Rory at least had the grace to look a little chagrined, and the salesman made an about-face and busied himself helping Maggie to finish packing.

Erin stared at Layla expectantly.

“What?” the succubus finally tore her eyes away from Jack’s back as the nightbringer stripped off his armor and shredded tunic.

“You’re unbelievable,” Erin laughed.

“He’s hot,” she stuck her tongue out.

“Yeah, he is,” Erin watched as Jack used the shredded tunic and his waterskin to clean up as much as he could.

“If it’s any consolation, it’s just as much fun watching you undress,” the succubus winked at her.

“Unbelievable,” Erin winked back and went to help Jack with his task.

As Erin helped him get cleaned up, she noted the discolored lines in his pale skin that remained from where the shredded flesh had closed.

“You don’t have to do this all by yourself, you know that right?” she whispered to him.

“I do,” he smiled.

“It doesn’t seem like you do, Jack,” she replied.

“Erin, I can’t bleed to death. I apparently can’t even die of shock or organ damage. I’m not going to let some nibbles stop me from getting strong enough to protect you. All of you,” he placed his hand on her cheek, where she placed her own over it.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, bringing a smile to her lips.

“You’re not alone, Jack,” she bumped her forehead against his.

“I know,” he planted a smooch on her nose, then unpacked a fresh change of clothes. “How bout you hold my blanket up so I can change my smallclothes without the pervy succubus throwing an anime nosebleed.”

He jerked his head sideways at the demon in question, who had slowly slid down the wall and was absently watching the two of them with an indulgent smile.

“I can hear you,” she laughed.

“Oh, I know,” he shot back.

Erin pulled up the blanket and Jack quickly slipped out of his ichor-soaked underclothes. He rinsed himself off, dried up with the blanket, and pulled on another pair of smallclothes, then breeches. When he was dressed, Erin let the blanket fall back onto his bedroll.

“Mmm, saucy. Like a cabaret show. Do a little spin,” Layla grinned.

“Unbelievable,” Erin laughed.

To her shock, Jack pirouetted with a surprising amount of grace, then bowed when Layla giggled and gave him a few sharp claps.

“That was… unexpected,” Erin eyeballed him.

“Renaissance Faire,” he replied simply.

“Hmph,” she grunted, continuing the suspicious eye.

“Seriously, they do whole period dance numbers,” he held his hands up.

“A likely story, Tex,” Layla pitched in.

“I don’t know what you want here. Do you expect me to confess to secret ballet or something?” he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, something like that,” the succubus nodded.

“Well, you’re out of luck. Just nerdy medieval clothes and clumsy dancing with girls spilling out of their corsets,” he winked at the succubus.

“Mmm… corsets,” Layla mused.

“You’re literally wearing one, right now,” Erin pointed.

“Yeah, but I’m thinking of someone else wearing one, and how much fun they are to take off, one, slow, clasp, at a time,” the succubus sighed.

“Unbelievable,” Erin laughed.

Jack finished dressing and took the time to clean and pack his mutilated armor. About half of the sturdy gear was seriously damaged, and the breastplate would need significant repairs. After consulting with Maggie, it seemed none of the pieces were beyond saving, though, so Jack asked Rory to squirrel the damaged bits away.

“What are you gonna wear though?” Erin poked his unprotected stomach.

“You’ll see,” he grinned.

“No, no, no. We’re not doing the shock-and-awe-show in the middle of a fight. You show me you’re not planning to go into combat bare-chested, or we’re gonna camp here until we can mostly repair your armor,” the dreadnought glared at him.

“Yes, mom,” he sighed.

Jack walked a few steps away, then turned dramatically.

“You’re gonna wanna watch this, Boston,” he called over Erin’s shoulder to the salesman where he was busy packing.

“Hmm?” Rory turned.

At that moment, Jack whispered, “Scales of the Endless.”

The shadows of the tunnel momentarily undulated, writhing like thousands of inky black snakes, then were drawn instantly toward the nightbringer, leaving in their place a strange nothing that hurt to look at.

For a moment, the five of them stared into the Between, the not-waters that existed between worlds. Erin, Layla, and Rory shuddered as their minds resisted what their eyes were seeing, then the darkness rushed back in to fill the holes in reality.

The shadows that had been torn from the fabric of space had wrapped themselves around Jackson, and the nightbringer now wore a suit of iridescent black overlapping scale mail with shaped pauldrons that looked suspiciously like the smooth black heads of a pair of great serpents. Emblazoned on the chest was the Mark of Ouroboros, slowly revolving as it did on their hands and on the pedestals of the great Seals.

“Holy hell. Are you wearing Big-” Layla started.

“The divine armor o’ darkness,” Maggie whispered, cutting her off.

“The what?” Rory asked.

“Spirit armor gifted ta the nightwraith champions o’ old. No class nor skill can produce it. Tis a gift from the Nightfather,” she made the sign of the serpent over the mark of exaltation on her chest.

Jack looked down at the suit of armor formed of large overlapping sheets of shadow made real, like thick obsidian scales.

“I mean, it was the best tier four talent I could take, and I figured, with my armor ruined,” he shrugged.

“Tis a great gift, lad. Yeh will be able to take many more abilities ta enhance its power, almost like another class,” she stared in admiration at the shining mail.

Erin reached out and placed her hand on the armor.

“It’s really cold,” she drew back.

“Feels normal to me,” Jack shrugged again.

“You have cold resistance, knuckle-head,” she teased.

“How’s it work?” Layla asked.

“A lot like Erin’s mutation powers. Takes a reasonable, but significant amount of mana to summon, then whatever I spend on it stays committed as long as the armor is out,” he explained.

“That’s neat,” she replied.

Jack donned his rucksack and tied on his sword.

“We ready to go get a shrine?” he grinned.

“Yep,” Erin picked up her gauntlets from on top of her own backpack and began readying herself to get moving.

“Yeah, I think we’re good and packed,” Rory answered.

“Nobody says anything about anything. Just walk, okay?” Layla pointed her finger at each of them in turn.

“I think that’s a little paranoid,” Erin replied.

“I think it’s not paranoid enough,” Layla grunted.

“It’s fine. Everything-” Jack started.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Rory and Layla both shouted at him.

“Just… just get your shit and let’s go, Jackson. It’s like eight miles to the seal from here,” she glared at him.

He held his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender.

-----

“I FUCKING TOLD YOU, JACKSON! WHAT THE FUCK DID I FUCKING TELL YOU?!” Layla shouted across the room as she hid behind the rocky outcropping.

“It’s not the time, Layla!” he yelled back.

Above them, somewhere in the myriad stalactites that hung from the massive cavern ceiling, Ghosin the Dreadfang lurked.

The great basilisk was fifty feet long, a sinuous expanse of coiled muscle and acrid venom in the shape of a titanic snake. It left plumes of noxious fumes as it went, and a trail of searing slime that would dissolve their boots in seconds.

The serpent lunged from its concealment in the darkness above, coils exploding into motion. The great, fanged maw, open in a grotesque unhinged display, arrowed straight toward the succubus’ hiding place.

As it closed, Maggie burst forth from behind the stones where Layla had taken cover and swung her shield in a massive arc that split the air, pushing Layla back against the rock with a thump and a grunt.

The shield impacted Ghosin’s jaw at the joint, slamming the great serpent’s ton and a half of weight to Maggie’s left in a monstrous display of the dwarf’s strength.

The hammer immediately followed down, impacting the basilisk a few feet behind the head, unleashing a thunderous boom and the cracking of multiple ribs.

Behind the snake’s head, Rory appeared from nowhere.

“WIND REAVER!” his arm ratcheted back, and the magical dagger exploded into a flurry of green-tinted pale white mana.

“NAE, RORY, YEH-” Maggie didn’t get to finish her warning.

As Rory’s attack struck home, Last Note of the Wind’s Waltz created a crater in the serpent’s hide, six inches wide and nearly a foot deep.

The basilisk’s head was driven forward by the attack, and as the serpent rolled away, the great, fanged maw snapped upward and back, bringing the dead, black eyes directly in line with the salesman, who was feverishly attempting to vanish back into the darkness.

The serpent’s head convulsed, a roiling movement that started below the neck and whipped forward to the snout. From the tips of shining white fangs, a water-hose spray of colorless venom erupted in the salesman’s direction.

Rory shouted the invocation for his invisibility spell and leapt to the side, but the splash of fluid struck him in the shoulder and spattered across him.

His flesh instantly turned a bruised blackish-purple.

“FUCK!” Jack shouted and rushed from his cover toward the great serpent.

The nightbringer’s waving forest of shadow limbs immediately doubled in size and took on the obsidian likeness of his armor’s scales. He threw himself against the Dreadfang, digging dozens of tentacles into the serpent’s head, forcing the fanged mouth to point away from him in an immense display of power.

The serpent, though, was slowly gathering its coils beneath itself and levering its giant head back around to swat the nightbringer like the insect he was.

Maggie rushed to Rory’s side.

“MAGGIE! MAGGIE! IS HE OKAY?!” Jack shouted as he struggled with the serpent.

‘NAE JACK. HE’S… he’s dying,” her voice dropped off.

Layla burst from behind her cover and poured fire into the serpent’s face.

“I SWEAR TO GOD MAGGIE, IF HE DIES BEFORE HE GETS THE SHRINE, I’LL SLIT MY THROAT AND LEAVE YOU HERE SO HE DOESN’T END UP BACK IN THE MEAT FOREST BY HIMSELF!” Layla screamed over the roar of the flames.

“HELP HIM!” Erin yelled as she left the narrow crack where she had wedged herself, blasting into the serpent’s side opposite Jack.

The momentum dragged the great snake directly into the nightbringer’s clutches, and he pushed the snake’s face down, wrapping coils of tentacles around its mouth and head.

Still, the basilisk ratcheted itself back up, dragging Jack across the stone floor, forcing him to plant shadow limbs into the rock to slow its momentum.

The elderly dwarf looked down at the dying boy, struggling to breathe.

She grasped his leather belt in her hand and slung him across the room, where he tumbled to a stop atop the shrine.

“IF’N YEH CAN STILL HEAR ME, BOYO, TAKE THE SEAL!” she yelled.

“IT’S NOT GONNA MATTER IF THE DAMN THING KILLS ALL OF US!” Layla screamed back at her.

Maggie turned toward the serpent and slammed her warhammer into the face of her shield.

“Blessing of the Twilight Garden.”

The dwarf began to glow with an inner light, filled with stars and the gentle purple radiance of dusk.

Her voice started as a whisper, then grew louder, until the chant filled the hall, and even the deaf basilisk ceased struggling for a moment.

Then, as Maggie’s titanic power began to fill the cavern, it began struggling much harder.

“Oh, father, my father, death flies,

on broken wings,

Grandfather, clan father, I pray,

you hear me sing.”

The great beast ripped its head upward, dragging Jack with it, yanking him from the floor and into the air, as showers of stone sprayed, dislodged from where they had been hooked into the mountain.

“Oh, mother, my mother, death and,

war ride for me,

Grandmother, clan mother, at least,

my breath is free.”

Maggie’s hammer and eyes began to burn with the same starry radiance. She turned her head and looked toward Rory where he lay on the Seal. Without a word, Rory’s body was enveloped in the same twilight fire, and the Chosen saw him immediately suck in a deep, pained breath.

“Oh, father, my father, hammer,

and shield in hand,

Oh, mother, my mother, brothers,

and sisters stand.”

Ghosin slapped Erin away with a flick of its massive tail, sending the dreadnought clattering across the stone. Then it spun and disgorged another colorless blast of venom at Maggie.

Her singing paused only for a moment, “Aura of Cleansing Twilight.” The venom evaporated in mid-air, bursting into the same star-filled flame.

“Oh, all those who walk afore, down,

in caer and deep,

Now march with me, ancients to war,

rise from long sleep.”

The Dreadfang seemed to have decided it would be better to live another day, and wheeled its great head backward along its body, reversing its momentum and shooting toward the rear wall of the cavern.

“No beast nor man in the under

neath do I dread

Should I fall today, morrow I

drink with the dead.”

“ALL STORIES MUST END,” the dwarf, burning with star-filled flame the color of the night sky, invoked her hidden art.

A line of nothing opened between Maggie and the basilisk, the void of the Between stealing the space in the hair’s breadth crack her hidden art had created.

The air sizzled and space wept as the primal nothingness of the not-waters of space and time cut through all that existed in that narrow corridor.

The serpent abruptly stopped moving.

Then it slowly slid apart, bisected vertically down the middle.

“HOLY SHIT MAGGIE, THAT WAS AMAZING!” Layla shouted.

The dwarfess turned her head to look at the succubus with burning eyes of twilight fire.

“We are doomed,” she sighed.