The evening breeze carried the scent of the sea and with it came the dull stinging pain of the salt irritating her face. Yet, Calypso preferred it to the pain raging in her heart. The closer a day came to its end, the harder it became for her to ignore the emotions. And the constant string of failures was starting to grind away her determination. But worst of all was the memory of Calypso’s greatest shortcoming. That one, hurt like nothing else. She gripped the rail of the anchored ship’s deck, willing the images inside her head to stop.

A part of her knew that it was a fitting punishment. Her hubris and superiority had turned her existence into an exponentially growing mess. Until it had all spiralled out of control. The worst part was that Calypso could pinpoint the exact moment of the start of her downfall. Not that it would do her any good. If anything, else, it was yet another thing to torment herself with. If only she had listened to Lady Ire and kept her distance from Irene Navina, none of the misery that followed would have happened. At least, that’s what Calypso believed.

Whoever said that time heals all wounds was clearly speaking without ever experiencing something this damaging to one’s soul. It had been two years since the burning of Esthergrad, but the blow was still fresh in her memory, as fresh and painful as her scarred face. No, the death of the town was of little consequence. Calypso chuckled at how heartless the thought was. But it was the truth, her truth. From the moment she had joined the Order, she no longer considered herself as part of humanity. It was the rule, the only thing to keep you sane during the harsh training. What mattered was that she had failed as a Witch Hunter. She had failed at the only thing that gave her life meaning.

Although, that wasn’t exactly true. Calypso found a new purpose in seeking vengeance. It was the only reason she was on this spirit forsaken pirate ship. To make matters worse, on top of all the shit life was piling on her, she was taking orders from the man who was partially responsible for her misfortune. The irony was not lost on her, but Nathaniel served a purpose.

And if that was enough, Calypso was an exile. Hunted by the Witch Hunters, stripped of her title and right to call herself one of the Order. In truth, she was lucky to not have been anywhere near Esthergrad by the time the Persecutors arrived. Otherwise, she would have been executed on the spot for her failure. The only reason the Order was taking its sweet time in bringing her to justice was Marshal Tetradon. Well, former Marshal Tetradon.

Before Zan was stripped of his titles and honours and banished from the Silent Knights, he apparently gave a passionate testimony in her defence. For what little it did, Calypso was grateful to the man. Still, it irked that after the dust had settled, Irene Navina was declared a Martyr, and more importantly, and this was something spoken in hushed voices, the God Slayer was missing, presumed dead. And with Lady Ire missing and Calypso bearing the scars of broken contracts on her body, her current situation could be described as perilous, at best.

And then, there is the issue with Maeve. Her trusted companion was not the same after what happened in Esthergrad. Where once there was a cheerful note to her song, now there was something sinister lurking just under the surface. The spirit had also grown in strength, but that came at a price. Nothing the former Witch Hunter did was ever enough to satisfy her needs. As much as Calypso wanted to ignore it, this bothered her greatly. It wasn’t that Maeve had suddenly turned into a demon, but at times the dividing line was very blurred.

Trying to talk with her companion was an exercise in futility. The spirit deflected any question regarding her changed nature. And the more Calypso tried, the worse topics Maeve would bring up. It reached a point where the two had not talked with each other for close to six months. Well, her companion had shared her thoughts from time to time, but it could barely be called a conversation at all.

“Maeve still not talking to you?” She heard Nathaniel’s voice from behind her.

“She will come around.” With a sigh, Calypso placed the iron mask over her face. She had failed to hear him approach yet again.

It was a harsh reminder that she wasn’t the only one who changed after Esthergrad. The boy from back then had become a man. A very capable one at that. She did not know why, but Nathaniel made sure to move as quiet as the morning breeze, even when they were safe. Between that and him constantly looking over his shoulder, Calypso feared that he was slowly losing his mind.

“You don’t need to do that,” he said and embraced her from behind. “It doesn’t bother me…”

“But it bothers me!” Calypso snapped at him before placing her hand on his forearm. She could see the fresh wounds on his knuckles. He had been interrogating their prisoner, even though it pained him to resort to such actions. “It should bother you as well.” She added more softly.

Calypso hated to admit this, but she appreciated his company and the fact that he was always by her side. Sure, she blamed him plenty, considering how her wounds were his fault. Over the last three years, their strained relationship had grown into something more. The former Witch Hunter was reluctant to call it love. A mutually beneficial partnership. After all, she understood that Nathaniel stayed with her because he felt guilty for what had happened.

“Did you learn anything new?” Calypso asked, eager to change the subject. Both of the direction the conversation would go from here and of her thoughts. She did not want the two of them to fight, at least not today. Calypso was tired of, well, everything.

“Nothing,” Nathaniel let out a long sigh and buried his head at the back of her shoulders. He was tired she realized. At times Calypso forgot that he was human.

“Which means we have no clue why the covenants are fleeing the High-guard Combine.” She felt her anger flare up again. Every time they thought they had a lead it turned into a dead-end.

“The other prisoner talked, though,” Nathaniel said and made to let go of her. However, Calypso held his arm firmly in place. She wanted to feel his warmth a little longer. “Turns out, he is not your average smuggler. The Combine has hired him to ferry people and materials for Esthergrad Castle.”

“Castle?” The former Which Hunter could not hide her surprise and turned around to look at Nathaniel’s worn-out face. Dark circles had formed around his eyes, and the usual spark of life was missing from those two inquisitive orbs.

“Looks like, they are building a large fortress around the ruins of Esthergrad. Witch Hunters and Silent Knights are keeping a constant vigil on the perimeter.”

“It makes no sense,” Calypso tried to find a reason for such odd behaviour. It was true that the Wilds turned places of tragedy into a spawning pool of horrors and monstrosities. But nothing on such a scale in such a short time frame had ever happened before.

“If, we can trust our prisoner,” Nathaniel took a deep breath, not too eager to share his thoughts with her, “there are rumours of demons, actual demons made of bone and flesh, venturing out from the ruins…”

“That’s…” Calypso closed her mouth before saying something hurtful. He was just repeating what he had heard from the smuggler the captured. “That’s not how demons work.”

“I know,” Nathaniel's smile faded the moment he felt her scornful gaze. “What I mean is… I know, ok? I do listen to your explanations. And besides, I’ve seen what true demons look like.”

Right. She felt like an idiot. He had been in Esthergrad. He had told her everything about the thing disguised as the God Slayer. In great detail too. However, he was oddly silent when it came to discussing what actually happened with both Irene Navian and Irene Nox. Calypso suspected that it had to do with Zan, and she was going to get the truth out of the former Silent Knight this time. As soon as he returned from his expedition onshore.

“When was the last time you slept?” She asked. It was obvious Nathaniel was in no state of mind to continue this conversation. He was barely standing on his feet.

“I had a nap about two hours ago…” He forced a smile on his face. It was gone as soon as he realised, she was not going to accept this flimsy excuse. “Three days. Four, maybe. I’m not exactly sure when I had a proper night’s sleep.”

“He does not want to worry you, my dear,” Maeve said out of nowhere.

Calypso bit her tongue to stop herself from lashing out at her companion. Weeks without so much as uttering a single word and she decides to join in on the conversation at this time.

“I see, Maeve is talking to you again. I’ll leave you two alone.” Nathaniel turned around and departed towards the crew quarters on the lower deck. Calypso wanted to stop him, but she did not know what to say. She never did.

“The poor boy is too observant for his own good.” Her companion giggled inside her head. “As expected from someone with Rasklin blood mixed in them.”

“Rasklin!” Calypso could not help herself and shouted.

The strange sea creatures were a damned legend. From what little she could remember, they emerged from their underwater adobes once every hundred years or so, looking for potential mates. According to the few eyewitness accounts archived in the Frozen Keep, they looked like the perfect image of men and women in their prime. The only difference being their pure white eyes and lack of hair. The other important thing, Calypso remembered was that under no circumstances are Witch Hunters allowed to harm Rasklin.

No one was sure what the reason for this rule was. But apparently, the last time someone from the Order had done this, her own spirits had gone into a frenzy and torn the woman into pieces.

“Wait. How do you know this?” Calypso asked. Although, the question she really wanted to ask was a little different.

“I’ve known from the moment we saw him.” She could feel Maeve’s hungry smile.

“And you said nothing all this time!”

“I was prohibited at first,” her companion sounded pleased for some reason. “After we made our new contract, I was interested to see how events would unfold. However, after observing him for this long, there is nothing special about him. Well, if we do not consider his unnatural perception and intuition. And his exceptional skills in bed. But that’s a given for a Rasklin descendant.”

Calypso was ready to go into a tantrum when she spotted Zan’s signal from the shore. One flash of the lantern, then a second, followed by two short bursts. Good, the former Silent Knight had captured a new witch. Hopefully, this one would have more information they could get out of her. But then a second lantern was lit. Calypso squinted to make sure, she was not imagining it. No, it was true. So, this was it, the pirates had outlived their usefulness.

“You better wake up poor Nathaniel, my dear.” There was sadistic pleasure in Maeve’s voice. At any other time, it would have been a reason for the former Witch Hunter to be very concerned about her companion. But tonight, she shared the same feeling. A part of Calypso really wanted to punish the young man and right now, it was the dominant part.

Amberly extinguished the candles on the altar. She would have made one of the initiates do it, but today’s mass had her in high spirits. The number of recruits and aspirants her covenant received had nearly doubled and she had allowed her sisters to celebrate. By all accounts, the orgies should have started by now. However, Amberly was not interested in such activities.

“You are such a bore, appetiser,” Eda Nave snapped its hungry jaws around her soul. The demon was instrumental for the vast success of the Bleeding Heart covenant as of late. It was the one to whisper the words of the dark sermons Amberly held. But without the witch’s oratory skills, those same words would have not moved the hearts of the young witches.

“We have a deal, fiend,” Amberly hissed, feeling her mood souring. “I’m not risking my soul being consumed by any other of the infernal lords. A moment of misplaced pleasure will spell the ruin of all I have worked for.”

“Naïve child, you think my master would allow any of those upstarts to claim you once he has sunk his claws into you?” The thing gurgled in pleasure. “You spread his name; this makes your soul very valuable to the fallen prince. As long as you continue to serve, you will have a place at the foot of the Jagged Throne.”

“Hm.” Amberly scoffed. All she did was in the name of her own salvation. Obtaining the passion of a matron was not easy, especially for someone as young as her. Someone without friends in the Bleeding Heart. However, Eda Nave had seen that all who meant her harm had met an untimely death. Soon enough, she was feared and respected. Not for her skills at weaving complex hexes or afflictions. In that regard, she was still a novice. But the cult she founded, the cult of Letum Mors was what attracted young witches.

Before Amberly knew it, her sisters had erected a small basilica and as the years rolled, it became a proper church. The Unspoken Truth, they called it. Dedicated to the worship of demons whose names were forgotten in an age long gone. Statues were chiselled from enchanted basalt rock day and night by the enthralled inhabitants of the small island the Bleeding Heart controlled.

Was it an interesting life? No. But it was exactly what Amberly needed. She no longer had to watch the shadows with fear of Margo, reaching out from them. Although the island was not a part of the continent, it was so close to it, that people overlooked it. To reach the mainland, all the young witch had to do was make a half an hour boat ride. And she always kept a boat ready to leave at a moment’s notice. She might not be as afraid as before, but Amberly was not stupid. Margo is a very old and very powerful witch, as dangerous as she is insane. And from what the young woman remembered; Margo is very much insane.

“You need not worry about Asmodai’s plaything, appetiser,” Eda Nave coiled around her soul and squeezed tightly. At first, Amberly found the pain excruciating. But she was finding it to be a playful tease as of late. “She has bigger things to worry about. As do you.”

“I thought we were past all that appetiser thing.” She clicked her tongue. It was intimidating for the first year, but as with everything, it lost its novelty. “And what’s that supposed to mean? I’m doing my part; in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I have my dear treat,” she felt the thing lick its teeth. Never a good sign. It meant that blood will be spilt tonight. “You have exceeded my greatest expectations, creature of flesh and bone. If only we had more time, I would have loved nothing else than to summon more of my kin. Alas, time is the one thing you do not have right now.”

This got Amberly’s attention. Had she become careless? Was there a snake in her flock, ready to strike at her? And why had Eda Nave’s warning come so late? All this question she wanted to ask. However, questions would be of little use. Right now, the young witch needed a solution. First things first. She had to reach the boat.

“It would be less painful for you if you surrender without resting,” the demon whispered its poisoned words in her mind. “But you can struggle if you like. Actually, I would prefer it if you did.”

Every fibre in Amberly’s body screamed that she should run and never look back. However, her companion’s warning was not something she could simply ignore. The demon enjoyed her suffering a little too much, but not to the point that it would intentionally mislead her.

Slowly Amberly made her way to the thick wooden door of the church of the Unspoken Truth. To her surprise, she could not hear the usual sounds that accompanied a covenant’s celebration. Instead, she could hear nothing. It was too quiet outside and that had the young witch worried. The only ones who could destroy an entire covenant were Margo and the Witch Hunters. And if it was not the former, it most definitely had to be the latter. Still, if it was the Witch Hunters, Eda Nave should have warned her sooner and would not suggest she surrender.

The first time they came across, one of the jade-eyed women, the demon had laughed and raged at the same time. He had even expanded some of its power to make sure the woman was obliterated from existence along with her snarky spirits. The hatred between the denizens of the Inferno and the Order was deeply rooted.

Making sure she made as little noise as possible, Amberly placed her shaking hand on the door. Why did she agree to have no other exits from this damned building? The moment she pushed, someone pulled from the outside. Losing her balance, the young witch stumbled and planted her face on the stone step.

“I’ve been looking for you, my dear.” The voice that greeted her made Amberly’s blood freeze in her veins. This had to be a nightmare. A new torture her companion had devised to torment her with. Dreading to have her fears confirmed, the young woman looked up.

It was standing right in front of her. Squatting, so that the nightmarish monster could look into her eyes, was the thing that wore the God Slayer’s image.

“And you, child of Arkwar Luur, I find your attempts to hide from me a little insulting.” The monster smiled as malice burned in its red eyes.

“The Seed of Chaos…” Amberly whispered as the thing reached for her chin.

“Someone has been sharing stories I see.” She trembled at the touch as the demon’s fingers forced her to stand up. There was no actual strength applied to that motion, but refusing felt like a horrible idea. “Give me one good reason why I should not consume you, worm.” The thing hissed.

“You are powerless here Ingo Nox,” Amberly’s companion barked, using her voice. “This place belongs to the Ruler of the Jagged Throne. Only he can pass judgment here. Not you.”

“You presume too much, little worm!” The voice of the demon in front of her became a distorted cacophony of growls. Amberly feared that the monster would snuff her life any second now. She wanted to close her eyes, but she no longer had any control of her body. Primal terror had claimed her.

“Fear not, morsel,” Eda Nave curled around her soul as it whispered in Amberly’s mind. “The Servant can bark all he wants, but he cannot do as he pleases…”

“Perhaps. But I can.” A new voice entered her mind. It was sweet and kind and it scared the witch.

“Alice.” This was the first time Amberly heard fear in her companion’s voice. It did not take much for her to figure that things had turned for the worse.

The woman, the Witch Hunter, that had struck fear in Margo appeared from around the corner of the church. Her hand caressing the wall, as if she was trying to find a deeper meaning in every stone. There was displeasure written on her beautiful face.

“Is this why you brought me here?” Alice demanded of the monster. “I do not sense any of Margo’s spells here.”

“You are correct, my dear. Your pupil is not here, however, there was a lot of anger in you after you crawled out of the grave. I thought it would do you some good to release some of it…” The monster wearing the God Slayer’s image smiled.

“Weeks wasted to reach this place,” Alice’s displeasure deepened. “And what do I see? A monument to everything that brings me pain. Wither.”

It was one of the most basic curses a witch had to learn and master. A step to greater more potent spells. Yet, when used by this woman, it became something terrifying. Amberly could not believe her eyes. The church crumbled like one of the sandcastles on the beach, the younger girls were so fond of making.

“I tire of your games.” Alice looked at the monster, who smiled in turn. “If you are going to kill this one, do so. I have places to be and people to kill.”

“Mistress Alice…” Amberly closed her mouth when the woman’s golden eyes shifted in her direction. There was a promise of a fate worse than death in those shining orbs.

“Alice is dead.” The woman said with finality. She stepped closer and examined Amberly’s face. “I’ve seen you before. You were with Margo. One of her lackeys.”

“You should trust me more, my dear,” Ingo Nox, pushed the young witch towards the woman. “I may not know where the Raven is hiding, but this one might have an idea or two.”

“Mistress…”

“Not Mistress. Just Irene.” The woman smiled gently and wiped away the tears from Amberly’s cheeks. “I killed Margo. Arthur’s sword tasted her heart. So, tell me, how is she alive?”

“A puppet. She created a puppet before we left the Basilica…” The young witch paused. “But that’s not what you want to know.”

“It is so nice when your investments pay off, isn’t it, my dear.” The demon laughed. “You need not worry, little one. I promise you; no harm will come if you tell us where the Raven is now.”

“No offence Miss, uhm, sir demon, but I don’t trust the promises of your kind. And least of all the ones you make.” Amberly faked a smile, just to hid the quivering of her lips.

“Trust me, brat. You are better off accepting my word than Irene’s. Isn’t that right, child of Arkwar Luur?”

“Ingo Nox is the only one of our kind to never lie.” Eda Nave answered, but she could feel her companion was looking for a way to escape. “It does not mean he tells the truth, but he does not lie.”

“I find myself running out of patience,” Irene remarked. Her voice echoing in Amberly’s head and ears at the same time.

“Underneath the ruins of Esthergrad. That’s where you will find Margo the Raven,” Eda Nave dug deeper into the young witch’s soul. “I’ve been keeping track of her, to make sure my host remains safe, as dictated by my contract.”

“She has prepared a tomb – good. It will make burying her faster. And this time, her infernal masters will not be able to bring her back.

Amberly did not want to imagine what fate awaited Margo, but she was glad that she would not be sharing it. At least, not for the near future.