“Gydeon!” Bellara screamed. “Help! Let us out!”

“Bellara!” Sahni shrieked. “Kendrick! Help me, they—”

“It’s okay, Sahni! We’re going to get out of here! Just hold on!”

The imps clawed at the iron bars and bashed their heads between them, trying to find an angle that would allow them to slip through and feast on the helpless trio’s aura. Kendrick tried to push them away, but it was about as successful as bending a tree branch—they always sprang right back into place. He barely had any attention to devote to the numerous shades slinking along the walls. Those were minor threats in comparison; while the imps would feast on aura, sometimes clawing their victims to shreds, shades could only gradually siphon aura while causing general unease and melancholic symptoms.

One shade even had a cold grip on Kendrick’s ankle as the others waited for their opportunity to strike. “No. I am not gonna die in here! I have to try something.” He closed his eyes, the first step in his tried and true method of drawing up his aura from the pit of his being. Normally, this let him feel the weight and motion of the stuff through a sixth sense—this time, though, it felt vague, wispy, and imprecise. It had no heft to it, nor any shape. When he opened his eyes to conjure a single aurum, he was met only with a transparent, irregular blob the size of his head, which promptly scattered the moment he observed it. “Damn. You weren’t kidding about this iron!”

Bellara called out to them, “Listen closely. If the imps get in, treat it like a wild animal attack. Your aura sits most closely where your blood is likely to be spilled. The stomach, the throat—guard yourselves. Curl up into a ball and cover your face with your hands. Hear me?”

“Got it!” Kendrick replied. “Hope it doesn’t come to that!” He tried kicking at an imp, which used the opportunity to latch its mandibles onto his boot. He could barely fit it through the bars on the first pass and as he panicked, yanking it back into his cell, it got caught on the outside and slipped off his foot. “Son of a...” The imp gnawed on the leather of his boot momentarily and then resumed its prior tactics.

He never thought he’d feel this way, but he sighed a tiny breath of relief when he heard the iron door creak open. Gydeon and two other villagers of Tornbie rushed the jail with farm tools in hand. “Don’t lose faith, you three!” he exclaimed, jabbing an imp in the eye with a pitchfork. He and the other two bashed, stabbed, and slammed the imps first to dispatch them, splattering them into small clouds of dark aura. The shades were not as easy to kill, armed only with iron, but they retreated from the metal all the same.

The crude, impromptu melee weapons were far less efficient than magic or Kendrick’s Psysword. The imps were able to survive many hits each, whereas one flame spell or one swing of the aural blade could have felled them. Thus, the extermination process for the Sect of the Skyfather members took easily ten to twenty times longer than it would have for the aura users.

The wild-eyed man wielding the hatchet did the most damage, but he was not very skilled at landing a decapitating blow. When all was said and done, eight imps were slain, and apparently two more had escaped out the tiny window. Gydeon and his fellow slayers were drenched with sweat and terribly out of breath.

“Do you see... what we mean... Bellara?” Gydeon panted, resting his pitchfork on his shoulder. “Aldiel provides... Magic is never... the only choice we have.”

“Hey, can you guys provide us some weapons in here?” said Kendrick. “If you hadn’t gotten here, we’d be dying a slow death right now thanks to those imps. You can’t just lock us in here without a way to defend ourselves!”

Gydeon handed the pitchfork to the tall, lanky friend of his holding a shovel. “Qorgan and Jelsiah will guard the door... while I am away. I’m afraid I cannot...” He rested his hands on his knees and bent down to take deep breaths. “I cannot grant you any sort of weaponry. This jail has seen some unfortunate incidents in the past.” He gripped one of the bars of Kendrick’s cell. “We must learn from our mistakes so as not to repeat them.”

“Gydeon, this is madness,” Bellara pleaded. “Is it Aldiel’s will for us to die helpless in these cells?”

He looked back toward her cell. “No, not at all. No, He will... He will shelter all who put their faith in Him. He must.”

“And what if Aldiel does not do this, Gydeon? What then?”

A pause. “All the more reason to declare your faith to Him. If you are sincere in your repentance, then you will be with Him in the Overworld in spirit, even while your mortal blood is yet warm.”

“Oh, if that’s the case, then I’m sold,” Kendrick scoffed. “Sounds like a good deal to me!” Gydeon cast him a blank look, handing him his discarded boot before leading the others out of the jail. The door closed loudly.

“At least he posted guards for us,” Sahni mumbled meekly. “That’s better than nothing. Right?”

“The infestation is far from over,” Bellara sighed. “More will come. Especially since some already escaped. And as long as we are trapped here, we are not safe.”

***

The time for supper came and went. Kendrick could tell because of the hue of the sunlight inside the jail along with the lengthening shaft of sunlight creeping down the floor of the hall. That was far from his primary concern, however, as the sounds of battle raged outside.

Then came the demon’s roar in the distance.

“That is not good,” Sahni whispered. “That is very, very not good. But... I’m sure they can handle it, right?”

“With shovels?” Bellara replied. The anxiety was palpable in her voice. “They’re lucky they can handle the imps, since they’re sparse enough. For now. Once that demon sets its sights on Tornbie, Gydeon won’t be able to stop it even if he does use magic.”

“I couldn’t even feel it coming,” Sahni realized aloud. “I couldn’t sense the aura. Oh no... Everything feels so wrong in here with all this iron.”

“What’s our plan here, Bell?” Kendrick asked.

“Best case scenario?” She paused, and in the interim, Kendrick heard a blunt object colliding repeatedly with something outside. Someone, somewhere, screamed. “In the mayhem that’s about to ensue, the demon caves in one of our cells, and the freed person helps the other two escape.”

“That’s our best case?”

“Even our best case is still a retreat at this point. That’s unless Gydeon were to have a miraculous change of heart and free us—and we know that’s not going to happen any time soon.”

The only clues to what was happening outside were auditory. The bedlam soon hit a crescendo in ferocity, the sounds of the Ecumene and the Underworld clashing in fervent combat. Imps hissed and trilled while countless humans—and an orc, from the sound of it—yelled for help, or shouted orders, or cried out in pain. Kendrick feared the approach of night and all the denizens of the dark that would creep out to join the fray.

“Do you guys wanna play another game?” Kendrick asked, raising his voice over the ambient noise. “It’s called Twenty Questions. You start—”

“Gydeon!” one of the guards hollered. “Gydeon, where are you? We need backup here!” The iron door squeaked open in a hurry and then slammed shut.

“Um, excuse me?” said Sahni. “Sir, um... I don’t remember your name, but could you please let us out of these cells? We can help you fight off the imps and the demon, and then once Tornbie is safe, you can just put us back in here! Would that be all right?”

“Damn imps,” said the guard, pacing down the hallway. He didn’t seem to notice any of the prisoners. “They got Jelsiah... What are we going to do? This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Hello? Qorgan, was it? Can you hear me?”

Qorgan knelt in the middle of the jail’s hall and clutched the eight-spoked circular pendant around his neck. The other hand he lifted toward the ceiling. “Aldiel Above, Skyfather, please heed our prayers in our time of need! Deliver us from this evil just like You promised You would! Where are the Guardians that You promised to send us in the ancient texts? No, no... I’m losing it... I’m losing faith... I’m part of the reason this is happening—”

“Qorgan!” said Kendrick. “Come on, man! Hey, we can help—seriously, this’ll all be over in no time if you just let us out. Do us a favor and help us, help you! Yeah?” He noticed a rusted old key dangling from the guard’s belt loop. It must have been how they were able to get in and out of the jail, Kendrick deduced. And he never saw them use more than one key to unlock the mini-doors to deliver meals.

Kendrick was about to try again when he heard Bellara weeping softly from her cell. The sound of her crying was what snapped Qorgan out of his prayerful state—perhaps because it sounded so similar to what was happening in the battle outside. “Miss?” he said sheepishly. “Miss, you’re safe in here. They can’t get through the bars—Gydeon told me so!”

“It’s just...” Bellara cried. “It’s just... like what happened in Narmur...”

Qorgan stood up slowly. “Narmur? That’s terribly far east. You were in Narmur, Miss?”

Bellara sniffled briefly between her sobs. “My whole family. First the imps, then the demons... We... We couldn’t stop them... And I’m afraid... Can you... protect us, sir?”

The guard approached the bars of her cell, so close that Kendrick could no longer see him. “Miss, I promise that I will not let any harm come to a beautiful, helpless maiden such as yourself.”

“You do look strong. I’ve never had a strong man protecting me before...”

She’d better be going somewhere with this, Kendrick thought.

“I cannot free you,” said Qorgan, “but I will protect you with my life. You’re an orphan, then?” Silence. “Of course. My condolences, fair maiden. If no other man has claimed you, I would like to take your hand in matrimony. My faith is renewed now—now that I have you to fight for, that is! Let me stand guard and I pledge to you that the—”

Clang! A hard impact against metal. Then a softer thud on the floor.

“Damn,” Bellara said in her normal voice. “He fell just out of reach. Let me see if I can... Aha!” Kendrick watched Qorgan’s motionless body slide in short, heavy scoots across the floor as Bellara apparently reeled him in just out of view again, grunting with effort. “Almost... almost... I-I did it! I got the key!”

“What the hell just happened?” Kendrick wondered aloud.

“As they say here in Kanthos, ‘A man is hard to tame; a worm far easier.’ Now, enough talk! Let’s get out of here!” The squeak of her cell door as it opened was the most beautiful, lyrical sound Kendrick could remember hearing in that moment. She ran down the hall and unlocked Sahni’s cell first, then Kendrick’s, and they were finally free to escape the prison and emerge into fresh air outside.

And utter chaos.

“Agh!” Sahni gasped, clutching at her chest. “Ah, so much... dark aura... all at once. The demon must be close!”

“I’m gonna stick with you two out here because I’m dead weight without the Psysword,” said Kendrick. “Any chance we can track down our belongings? Is there a lost and found box or—”

“I have as much information as you,” replied Bellara. “First things first, our top priority is to survive. Pyrios!” She tried to shoot off a fire spell and produced only a sputtering of orange sparks. The imp she was targeting skittered away, startled. “I can’t tell if the fairybane hasn’t worn off yet or if my aura is still realigning itself. That could be a problem.”

“You!” Morrolf shouted. He was running after another villager who had an imp latched to each ear, but he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them. His paper-thin veneer of a benevolent preacher washed away in an instant. “Ingrates! How did you get out? Gydeon!” His son was nowhere in sight. “Gydeon, what have you done? How many times can you disappoint me in one lifetime?”

“I would stay far away from us if you know what’s good for you,” Bellara threatened him. “There’s not enough iron to stop us out here. And I hate to leave a score unsettled. Understand?”

Morrolf faltered for a moment, unsure of how to answer her retort, so he simply ran after the imp-laden villager without another word.

“That was awesome,” giggled Kendrick.

“In truth, I don’t know how much damage I could do,” she confided in him. “But I wanted to make the old bastard sweat a little. Now, come on. Let’s try their house—I think that’s our best bet for finding our things. With all three of us back in action, we’ll make short work of this infestation. Let’s go!”

***

When they couldn’t find any of their belongings in Morrolf’s house, they checked others. None of them had what they sought. They finished searching four when Kendrick brought up a worrying possibility.

“Is it possible they destroyed our stuff?” he asked. “I mean... if they think it’s so sinful...”

“I think that would be most difficult,” Sahni mused.

“It’s mostly crystals, our daily supplies, and artifacts made of orkanite,” said Bellara. “The first two we can replace easily enough. But the Psysword, the aurimeter, your lens, they’re all mostly orkanite, and they’d need a powerful forge to melt those down. But orkanite is an extremely aura-conducive metal that’s otherwise brittle and harder to work with. I doubt they’d have a use for it.”

Sahni let out a stressed sigh. “They could have thrown our things off a cliff for all we know. They could have been stolen by imps. They could have dumped them in the woods sunstrides from here...”

Kendrick gasped with a sudden realization. “Or the temple.”

“The temple?” Bellara echoed. When the thought clicked, the three of them bolted in the direction of Tornbie’s wooden building, the doors of which were wide open.

Kendrick wondered why the interior was largely empty—until he saw the unmoving bodies of several cultists in the pews, smeared with blood and leaking wispy white aura that flowed up to the ceiling like steam before scattering. Horrific, he thought to himself. Morrolf has blood on his hands for this. They could have been saved.

“I don’t see anything besides casualties,” he said.

Bellara jumped up to the altar and tried to yank open a door that led to another room—it wouldn’t budge. “The only other door in Tornbie that’s locked?” she said. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Oh, this place is just dreadful,” Sahni sighed. “Aldiel rest their souls...”

“You have some nerve taking His name in vain,” said Gydeon. He stood in the open doorway of the temple, pitchfork in hand, his face betraying equal parts anger and fear. “Get out of here before you desecrate His house of worship any further!” Then, in a more hushed tone, he added, “Do you have any idea what my father will do to you?”

“Give it a rest, man,” Kendrick scolded him. “It’s over. We’re out. We’re never going back in.”

“Ahkenniko!” Bellara declared. A white spark shot from her finger into the lock of the door; it undid itself like a knot coming loose and the door opened just a crack. “Aha! It worked! My spells are coming back!”

“Gydeon, I’m sorry, but we can’t allow you to hurt us anymore,” said Sahni. “Parto.” She threw up an aural barrier that he knocked his head against, but poking at it a few times with his pitchfork was sufficient to scatter it and let him walk through. “Uh-oh. I guess I’m still on the mend...”

Kendrick stepped forward. “Don’t apologize to this creep. I don’t need the Psysword to deal with you, pal.” Gydeon swung his pitchfork and aimed it at Kendrick’s midsection. “...because I have my words instead. Care to debate me?”

Bellara squealed with excitement. “I’ve got it! I’ve got... all of it! It’s all in here! Sahni, come divvy it up! Kendrick, I even found a sheath that you might be able to use as well!” She traded places with Sahni, who ascended the altar to retrieve their belongings while Bellara walked down the aisle toward Gydeon.

“I cannot allow you to steal what belongs to Tornbie,” said Gydeon. “What belongs to the Sect of the Skyfather. Please, you’re all ruining everything! There’s still hope for you—for us, for all of us! You’re not supposed to be doing magic!” He was getting whinier, more desperate, his eyes flitting back and forth among the three of them. He looked like he was about to have a breakdown. Then Bellara started to approach him. “I’ve got an idea. We can still avoid my father’s wrath. If you three could follow me back to the jail cells—”

“Pugnus,” said Bellara, and in that same instant, her fist collided with Gydeon’s abdomen so hard that it made an audible thwack. He gasped as the wind left his body; his pitchfork clattered to the floor.

“Should we really take the sheath?” Sahni asked hesitantly, handing Bellara a bag and Kendrick the Psysword.

“Consider it payment for the false imprisonment,” Bellara said bitterly in Gydeon’s direction. She rejoined the others at the altar to go through their belongings. “Excellent... All our crystals, the aurimeter—even our food is still in here! This is good. Now then, we’ve wasted enough time reclaiming what’s ours—let's get out there and help!”

Kendrick squeezed the hilt of the Psysword tightly. It felt good to hold it again. This weapon that seemed so foreign, so uninviting, when he’d first arrived in the Ecumene—its weight in his hands, the cool, smooth surface of the metal, all felt like he was seeing an old friend again after a long time apart. He could even feel his aura surging back to life inside him.

“All that I’ve done,” said a voice, and when he looked up, his stomach sank. It was Morrolf—dragging Gydeon down the aisle by his hair. “All my prayers... all my tutelage... all your punishments... And still you set out to ruin everything that Aldiel has ordained for us!”

“F-Father... please,” Gydeon choked out. “They... don’t know what... they’re doing... I-I... tried...”

“Can you not see the lengths I’ve gone to save us?” Morrolf asked Gydeon, looking at his son like the boy had just robbed him of all his possessions and then sold him. “And yet still Aldiel Above has shown us we are doing too little!” With that, he knocked the boy’s head against the floor in anger.

“Sir, that’s enough,” Sahni said as firmly as she could muster.

“Leave him alone!” Kendrick shouted.

“ENOUGH!” Morrolf screamed back. “Enough! I have had enough out of you three unbelievers! You’ve poisoned my own son against me, against the Creator of all—your doubt, your faithlessness has invited ruin upon Tornbie! Too many have died because of you! Aldiel, what do You ask of me? That I offer my own son as tribute to You? Is that what You want in order to save us from this invasion? Will that spare the lives of the others? I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever You—cllgk...” The rest of his words were lost in a guttural choking sound.

Over Morrolf’s deranged proclamations, Kendrick didn’t even hear Bellara utter the spell. She raised her hand slowly, bent in the shape of a claw, and the ring of aura tightened around Morrolf’s neck. As her arm raised, it even lifted him into the air.

“Your own son?” she whispered incredulously. “You were the one who poisoned him. Can’t you see that?” She shook her head. “No. No, of course not. You made him the way he is. And you don’t deserve him. Maybe one day he can escape the misery you’ve caused him. But left alive, you’re as dangerous as any demon I’ve met.”

“Bell?” Sahni murmured. “Bell, this isn’t the way... Um... I think you should stop...”

“Do it,” said Kendrick. It’s what he deserves for what he’s done to everyone in this room, he thought. Dead and alive.

“Stop... Please...” Gydeon had crawled the rest of the way down the aisle and now begged at Bellara’s feet. He wheezed, still incapable of breathing in fully, but he delivered his message all the same. “Please... I implore you... Let him go...”

“Bellara,” Sahni said again, more sternly this time.

“Uh, maybe we should think this over for a second,” Kendrick agreed.

“Every single casualty in Tornbie is his fault,” Bellara argued. Her glare hardened. “Every. Last. One. He could have killed us, too. He would have sacrificed his own son. Why does he deserve to live when good people have died?”

“Bellara, I’m sorry,” Gydeon pleaded with her. He rose to one knee, still not at full strength. “He wasn’t always this way... He was never the same, after... my mother’s death. He changed... He could change again... We both could change, and find our way back to Aldiel the right way... Please...”

She bared her teeth and her hand trembled with the weight of her decision. All at once, she let go, the spell dissipated, and Morrolf fell thunderously to the floor, incapacitated but still very much alive. She scoffed angrily. “Don’t either one of you get in our way again or I might not be so forgiving. Now let’s go—while there are still lives left to save!”

They stepped over the fallen Sectarians, trotted out the door, and officially joined the fight. Thuuum. Aura shot out of the Psysword’s hilt and Kendrick managed to sharpen one of its edges—he was out of practice, but it would do for imps.

“Any sign of that demon?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Sahni answered, sweeping the aurimeter. “The needle is just loosely pulling in lots of different directions—no solid readings. Maybe they killed it already?”

“Or maybe Aldiel finally answered someone’s prayers,” said Bellara. “Pyrios ampla!”

***

“I can hardly believe it,” said Sahni. “No offense—I’m just surprised.”

“What am I at?” Kendrick panted, active Psysword still in hand.

“The aurimeter reads you at over {200}... with a utilization of almost {170}. Wow!”

They stood amidst the wreckage of a partially-destroyed Tornbie, though a demon attack would have made it far worse. Thanks to their intervention, they were able to prevent any additional casualties that would have taken place after they were freed—though not without a great number of injuries. Sahni offered to heal the wounded, but even after they saved the day, not a single soul in Tornbie was willing to submit to her magical healing powers.

The fact that a demon was still lurking out there somewhere put Kendrick on edge, but at the same time, he felt thrilled with his latest aura reading. “{200}? Are you sure that’s right? Do you want to try my lens?”

“You’ve started to surpass us,” said Bellara softly, in shock. “I knew the day would come. We hoped it would, really—prayed for it, even. That’s why we brought you here. But...” Her look of bewilderment gave way to one of quiet concern. “Never mind. Congratulations, Kendrick.”

A one-eyed man carted along an imp-bitten boy in a wheelbarrow. All three of their eyes cast a nervous glance and then averted instantly. In spite of all that Bellara, Sahni, and Kendrick had done to help, members of the Sect still regarded them as monsters almost equally deserving of their fear, all for the practice of magic. He was already learning not to let it bother him. If they were able to save even one life, if even one heart might have been turned to reason rather than fear, then it was worth it.

“I mean no harm,” said Gydeon. He held a lit torch, a bag slung over his shoulder. It would be morning soon, but it was not yet light enough to see unassisted. “Please. I come in peace.”

“Can we help you?” Bellara asked. “More?”

He smirked shyly, redirecting his gaze to the ground in shame. “I suppose I deserve that. That and a lot more...” He said nothing for a short while after that, but Kendrick watched his face scrunching up in mental effort, as if sifting for the right words. Morrolf must have done a number on this guy, he thought. Even after everything, I somehow feel bad for him. “My father has banished me from Tornbie now. He still blames me for your escape. I didn’t want to tell him the truth about Qorgan...”

Bellara shrugged. “You can tell him if you want. Tell him that lech made a move on me and I took my chance.” She folded her arms. “You cannot accompany us on the road anymore, I’m sorry. I could never trust you again after what you put us through.”

“Please, I know. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t dream of asking you that. I was just trying...” Another sad smile. “Before we part ways for the final time, I wanted to say... I’m sorry. Truly.” He let the apology hang, even as they said nothing. “I know that words can’t atone for what I’ve done. Even more, I was complicit in so much... insanity in the Sect of the Skyfather. I do not yet know if magic is excusable in the sight of Aldiel. I doubt I will ever practice it again. But I can see now that hurting you, and others, as we have, all in the name of what we considered faith... It was wrong. I still will need to spend years parsing out the truth from my father’s lies.” He shrugged. “If we have years, that is.”

“Well, even if it doesn’t make things right,” said Sahni, “it means something to me that you’re sorry.” She offered him a muted, polite smile.

“I wanted to give you something as well.” He reached into the bag on his shoulder and pulled out a small cube that barely fit in the palm of his hand; it was etched with geometric designs, through which white light glowed faintly. “I had it hidden under a secret trapdoor beneath my bed. I could never figure out what it was... and I wanted to do that before I handed it over to my father to be kept in the temple.”

“A waymaker,” Bellara said with a hint of awe in her voice. She tentatively held out her hand to accept the gift. “Another ancient artifact, similar to the ones we carry... It’s a single-use portaling device.”

He nodded. “So, that answers my question. Thank you.”

“So, uh...” said Kendrick. “Where will you go? We’re going east, so I don’t recommend you go that way.”

Gydeon looked distractedly at the village he called home, wistfully, even, before answering. “I will go somewhere that needs my help. Even without magic, there are many places that require rebuilding, the injured who need comfort, the widows and the orphans who need a kind word. I will try to listen for Aldiel myself rather than hear His words spoken through others. I suppose that is all I can do now. If I had all the answers, I would have no need for faith.”

“Take care of yourself, Gydeon,” Sahni told him. “Be safe. I hope you get the closure you need. Closure is important.”

“I wish you all the safest of travels. Good luck. Prevail. And if you do one day meet Zorgen at the Rift...” He paused. “Tell him that a woman named Meloris met her end at the hands of a demon, even though she was the brightest witch I ever knew. And tell him that a man named Gydeon would like a word with him.”

“If he lives long enough,” said Bellara with a nod, the corner of her lip curled in the most subtle smirk, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Then they finally parted ways in peace, without a hug or a handshake, but with the seeds of forgiveness sown and even greater hope placed on the shoulders of tomorrow. As dawn broke over Tornbie, Kendrick stole a few glances back at the village they were leaving behind at long last. His stay was far from enjoyable. Not all of the people seemed very friendly, or kind, or grateful. He realized just how easily he could have met his journey’s end in that horrid jail cell.

But the relief of his freedom, the satisfaction of another small victory against the Underworld, the exhilaration of his highest aura reading yet, were all enough to outweigh even the worst of his experience in that disturbed little village. He smiled as the sunlight graced his face for the first time in too long.

“I am sorry you had to witness all that bloodshed and death, Kendrick,” Sahni said as the dirt path they were on joined a wider road out of town. “I know we’ve seen some before, but it never really gets easier, does it?”

He shrugged. “I guess you could say I’m used to it now. Nothing I haven’t seen plenty of before, unfortunately.”

“Here?” Bellara asked. “Or in your old universe?”

That thought gave him pause, and as he pondered that, he accidentally tripped over a rock in his path, stumbling a few steps before he regained his footing. “Um... To tell you the truth, I don’t know.”

Even in the wake of everything that had happened to him over the past few days, it was that uncertainty that troubled him the most.