It was a hole in the ground and that was all Nate could see. Nothing special about it at all. Sure, it looked out of place in the surrounding Wilds, but it was just a hole in the ground. The fact that they had appeared at this place through magic, was impressive, there was no other way around it. He could pretend to be impressed by that, but he couldn’t. Nate had seen enough strange things to simply accept things for what they were. And it was clear the young blonde man was not exactly human. It was the only way to explain how he had used magic. That and the multitude of little oddities of his behaviour.

Speaking of his employers, because that’s how Nate saw the Witch Hunter and the blonde man, they were arguing a few steps away. From what he could hear, they were not expecting to find the hole. Which begged the question, what were they looking for in this place? There were too many questions for the Executioner to be able to form a proper picture of what was happening. Everything felt surreal, from the contract or whatever, the blonde man had cold it to Lady Ire’s request to kill the God Slayer. Not even his wildest dreams could Nate imagine something like this happening.

Walking around the opening in the marshy soil, Nate noticed an oddity. It was hard to put t words, but it was there and it urged him to unravel its secrets. Squatting, he picked a handful of earth and rubbed it between his fingers. It did not feel right. Sure, it looked like soil, but it felt like sand. The same could be said for the thin layer of grass. They turned to fine powder the moment he plucked a few strands with his hand. The blades were green and yellow, however, despite all the moisture around them, they were dry. This place is dead, Nate noted. Yet, someone had gone to great lengths to hide it. He should have noticed it sooner, but because of his companions, or rather because of everything that had happened in the last couple of hours his senses were dulled.

Nate did not question why the beasts of the Wilds were keeping their distance, it was only normal considering his company. And by the looks of things, they were deep inside a part of the Wilds he had never seen before. There was always the argument that no two areas were the same and some places were far more dangerous than others. However, that was how the naive thought and Nate had learned the dangers of this line of thinking out in the ocean. Out there, there was no telling when or where you might be safe.

“What are you doing?” The Witch Hunter asked, trying to hide her frustration.

“I want to see what’s inside, Lady Ire,” Nate stopped digging through the dirt and stood up to look at the woman. Unlike her, he was better at hiding his emotions, his irritation at being treated as an enemy.

“Do not fear, Ire. He will not suffer the corruption infecting this place,” the blonde man offered in his strange calm voice. “Neither my kind nor our fallen kin can harm him. Even as we speak, they keep their distance. You can ask your spirits if you doubt my words.”

“There is no need for that, Guardian.” There it was, the barely hidden anger in her voice, it told more than her words would ever do.

Nate could see it in her jade eye. The woman despised the thing in human form, but she feared it and would not challenge it. Almost as Nate would never dare challenge her because he knew how that fight would end.

“You want, or rather need my help,” Nate said, doing his best to sound calm and respectful. Still, the way those two spoke without explaining anything, was running his patience thin. “I cannot do that unless you start making some sense.”

“Right, of course.” The blonde man, this Guardian or whatever his name was, bowed his head. “Accept my most sincere apologies. I am not used to this world. Without a connection to a proper spirit, you could not hear my song.” He looked at Ire, seeking help. “However, I do not have the proper skills to explain it in a manner which you would understand.”

The Witch Hunter clicked her tongue and walked towards Nate. She abruptly stopped a few steps away and her face twisted in a painful grimace. Or at least the portion not covered by the chain-mail vail did. Nate could see clearly that she was contemplating getting closer or simply lashing out at him, her hand dancing dangerously close to the handle of the battle-axe strapped to her belt. Steeling himself, Nate willed to remain motionless. The last thing we wanted was to give her an excuse to attack him. Actually, there was a good chance that it would be the last thing he would ever get the chance to do.

“It is not any lingering effect of the infernal realm I fear.” He could see the moment pass as Lady Ire finally spoke. “Alfher and Badulf torment me as we speak to keep my distance from you, young man. As the Guardian said, you are anathema to their kind.”

The Witch Hunter glanced at the hole in the ground. “I am more concerned about anything Irene might have left behind.” She turned to look at the blonde man, her tone changing to a sterner one. “You and I might be able to deal with it, but Nate cannot.”

That was a surprising statement, to say the least. The possibility there were traps should have been his first thought and the fact that it was not, only further supported the idea that he had no clue what was happening. Carefully Nate stepped away from the opening, mindful of where he placed his feet.

“Can’t you do something about it? The potential traps I mean?” He looked at the Guardian and the Witch Hunter in turn. Neither looked to be willing to be the first to answer his question.

“I’m sorry. Alice…” The blonde man paused as Lady Ire snapped her head in his direction. So, there were things they were not willing to explain after all. Not a good start. “The woman you know as Irene is far too cunning to predict her actions. Her control of witchcraft is beyond my ability to counter.”

“Then why are we here?” Nate exclaimed, his self-control reaching its limit. “You wish me to kill someone because for some reason I am the only one who can. But no one is willing to explain. We come to this place in the middle of nowhere and again the both of you are too hesitant to act.”

He stopped to catch his breath and resigned himself to speaking his mind. “If that is how it is going to be, I ask you to return me back to Ixi.”

“I cannot do that…” The Guardian shook his head.

“Why not!” Nate barked, assuming the same commanding tone of voice he used when directing his subordinates. “You brought us here through magic. Do the same thing and take me back.”

“It is not that simple…”

“I swear if you don’t start making sense I am leaving.” Nate tried to stop the shaking of his arm as he took a challenging step forward. “The only reason I agreed to this insanity is for Sherry’s sake. But I doubt you are going to keep your end of the deal. And I will not allow her to suffer.”

“Young man,” Lady Ire interrupted, “Nate. The Guardian did not use magic. We stepped through the realm of spirits,” she stopped and looked at him with genuine worry. “I may perhaps survive another trip, but you will not.”

“The Witch Hunter is corrected.” The blonde man circled around the hole at what was supposed to be a safe distance. “Powers, unhappy with my actions, intervened and prevented me from reaching this place at the correct time. This is the witch’s grave, but I do not know how long it has been since she healed herself.”

Lady Ire raised her hand to prevent Nate from going into another outburst. “What the Guardian is saying is that we are too late. Irene Nox, the thing that wears her skin, has recovered from its wounds. This makes our task that much harder.”

“In that case, we will need a tracker and…”

“No.” The Guardian flat-out refused. He snapped his fingers and the Witch Hunter was gone. She was right in front of Nate and the next moment there was nothing. “The Witch Hunter has her instructions. You and I will use the Raven as bait. If Alice… Irene has recovered, she will want to pass judgment on Margo. This vicious cycle those two form from their hatred is destined to repeat itself. One kills the other only to be killed in turn. It has always been this way.”

The snake made of light and the serpent made of shadows swam in the space between realms. This was their sanctuary, the place where they were master. A place non but them could enter. It was here they were created, when they were one, and it is here where their existence would cease at the end of time.

Their movements a complicated dance that told the other all there could be said. The powers that basked in the light and those that lurked in the darkness were afraid to act. At least, that is how the snake made of light and the serpent made of shadow saw it. A fear born of an eternity of struggle, hidden behind boastful proclamations of supremacy.

“The most perfect one, Ludwig King of Spirits, weaves his plans in ignorance,” Qvar Hes was the first to stop its dance. “He thinks he can control his creation.”

“The fallen ones, lords of the infernal realm, are consumed by their hatred,” the snake made of light hissed. “They see betrayal and treachery where none exists.”

“Ever since Lethum Mors, forever cursed be his name, wounded him, Ludwig has not dared to step away from the Crystal Thorne. His mortality scares him and binds him into indecisiveness.” The serpent made of shadows coiled and bit its body.

“Ever since Lethum Mors, forever cursed be his name, spurred them into rebellion, the fallen children have tortured themselves to alleviate their own guilt. They hide behind their servants, unable to act.” Its counterpart mirrored its motions.

“But we see all,” Qvar Hes tore the scales of its tail, letting them float around him like stars.

“We record everything,” the snake made of light peeled away the scales of its tale, letting them float around it like droplets of pure darkness.

“Yet one is always missing. And it has bothered us ever since we noticed it.” The two said as one. “The first one – Alice. She has always been an enigma to us…”

They stopped and looked at all of the contracts they had recorded throughout time. A cluster of galaxies formed around them as each one resonated with its counterpart. The number was always the same for both spirit and demon alike. But it was not this that caught their attention. It was the smallest of gaps in the perfect formation they had formed.

“And now there is another!” They exclaimed at the same time.

“Finally, we can understand how Alice came to be,” Qvar Hes roared.

“But if there is a second, there can be a third…” Both shuttered at the snake made of light’s statement.

“It cannot be allowed to happen.” Both spoke as one, their anger manifesting as titanic storms which wrecked their surroundings.

Qvar Hes hissed at his counterpart, silencing the storms with ease. “Marriage of darkness and light. It is the reason Letum Mors, forever cursed be his name, opposed Ludwig.”

“It is clear now,” the snake made of light wrapped itself around the serpent. “The Seed of Chaos, for so long we were blind to its action, for it is both light and darkness.”

“A being that is demon and spirit – a travesty! A profanity of perfection!” Qvar Hes raged and pushed away from its companion. “Zaar Des allowed itself to be consumed! Unforgivable!”

“Maeve has allowed taint to corrupt her perfect form!” The snake made of light hissed. “Unforgivable!”

“If the Guardian is allowed to complete its plans, neither side will have true access over the mortal realm.” It added after a short pause.

“If the Guardian is allowed to complete its plans, the disease will destroy itself, trapped in the mortal realm.” Qvar Hes answered.

“Letum Mors…” both spoke as one and stopped their intricate dance.

It went against their entire existence to comprehend the actions of the Fallen Prince, but for the first time since the start of the great conflict, they realised the truth of his words. Spurred by their shared memory, the voice of Letum Mors echoed in the space between.

“You claim that there is only light, my King, yet the moment I look at the darkness, you threaten me! Either merge the two or keep them far away from one another! But you cannot claim that only one exists. For there cannot be light if there is no darkness and there cannot be darkness if there is no light.”

The exact words that had started the Origin of Evil’s rebellion. Was it a warning they had all ignored? Impossible. The King of Spirits is perfection and cannot make mistakes.

“However,” Qvar Hes spoke quietly, “Ludwig is making a mistake right now, by not acting.”

“And those that turned their backs to the light are no different. They claim to be the true masters of destiny, yet fear each other more than the ruin of all they have been fighting for.” The snake made of light lowered itself in agreement.

“Letum Mors, for cursed…” they stopped as they were about the utter the same phrase they had spoken since the beginning of time. “We must speak with the Ruler of the Jagged Throne.”

Nate was pacing around the room waiting for the others to arrive. For close to two years, he had been observing the ruins of Esthergrad and hell it had become. To think that there was once a thriving town in this blasted land was too hard for him to even imagine. Still, it was impressive how a little abuse of power had lit a fire under the local lords’ arses. All it took was for the Guardian and the Witch Hunters to yell, and a mighty fortress was constructed.

Although, the true reasons for the existence of the Esthergrad Castle, as it came to be known, were known only to himself, the Thirteen who controlled the Witch Hunter, and the Guardian. With uneasy feeling forming in his gut, he dared to look out of the open window at the centre of the demon-infested ruin of the former town. From up here, it was just as one would expect. The empty rotting husks of buildings and walls stared back at him. The occasional beast of the Wilds roaming the empty overgrown streets and the blood-chilling cries of unnatural monsters.

Nate wondered when such things had stopped bothering him. Or if they even bothered him to start with. Perhaps, before Kassebian adopted him, but that was so long ago, it could be in another life. No, what had him fear to look upon the ruins was what could not be seen. The Guardian had confirmed as much, Margo the Raven, the most terrible witch to plague this world with her existence, had created a maze of horrors beneath the ruins. Even he could not see what that woman was doing in her adobe.

And this was why Nate was feeling uneasy about the upcoming meeting with the Thirteen. They were all playing the same game, but everyone else was a few steps in front of him. The witch knew they were waiting outside the ruins, as much the Hunters knew she was waiting for them to dare step in the world she controlled. And everyone was waiting for the God Slayer to make her move so that game could come to an end.

To make it worse, Margo had noticed him and was slowly plaguing his dreams. Tempting him with promises of power and riches, he would never enjoy unless he came to her side. Refusing her was not as difficult as some feared. All Nate could see was an old haggard crone holding a poisoned gift. But it was enough to keep him from getting a good night’s sleep. He had been contemplating informing the Thirteen for days now, however, they were always busy with something else.

As he saw it, everyone had lost track of their original goal over the last year. Similar to how events had unfolded in Ixi, the people here allowed politics and feuds to blind them. At least he had managed to force the Guardian to brink Sherry to Irwingstown, which meant Nate could visit her and make sure she was safe. If not for her support, he would have broken down a long time ago.

“The others will not come,” Lady Beatrix’s voice came from the door, startling the man. Out of all the Thirteen, Lady Beatrix and Lady Ire were the only ones, Nate did not want to be alone in a room with.

By now, he was used that all the Witch Hunters kept a respectable distance from him. And he could understand the hostility in their voices when they had to speak with him. However, those two were a different matter. Lady Ire of Segenburg was a killer with a heart of ice, and it was kind of respectable that she did not hide it. On the other hand, the tall redhead standing at the door was a lunatic who kept one dark desire too many hidden from the others.

The pure unbridled hatred the woman displayed towards anything to do with witchcraft bordered on insanity. She saw taint and corruption wherever she went and had no clams putting innocents to the slaughter for the slightest of suspicions.

“Lady Beatrix…”

“That’s Lady Beatrix of Charn to you.” She corrected him before Nate could even finish addressing her. He had to find an excuse to leave and do it fast.

Taking a deep breath to hide his irritation, Nate continued. “I was informed that all the Thirteen had accepted my request for this meeting…”

“Listen here, boy,” the woman barked, not bothering to pretend to like him. “If Brennus and Mochán were so persistent to hold me back, I would gut you here and now. To think that a man would be allowed to know the secrets of our Order is sickening, to begin with…”

“But I am hurting your spirit companions by breathing the same air as you.” He rolled his eyes, dropping the polite façade. “Yes, Lady Galicia and Lady Henrieta keep reminding me of this every bloody day.”

“Those are Lady Galicia the Slayer and Lady Henrieta of Lorn to you!” The Witch Hunter barked at him and took a step forward, placing a hand on the gladius strapped to her waist.

Nate ground his teeth, biting back to retort. It was getting late and a headache was building inside his head. He had to remind himself that all the Witch Hunters were far older than they appeared. Most of them were in their seventies but could pass for young maidens thanks to the influence of the spirits residing in their souls.

“If that is so, I can take this with Lady Alice of the Frozen Keep.”

Lady Beatrix winced at the mention of the name. Lady Alice was the one leading the Thirteen and she was a topic of great dispute, considering current revelations. The name was a ceremonial one and the Witch Hunters were suckers for ritual. With the truth regarding the founding of their Order out in the open, things were looking grim. Yes, Nate knew about this and he wanted the tall redhead to know he knew. Sure, he could not challenge any of the Thirteen, but he did not have to, they were an argument away from killing each other.

Nate was about to continue when Esthergrad Castle shook. A titanic howl echoed through the corridors and the air in the room crackled with the sound of thunder and flashes of lightning. Blinding light engulfed the former Executioner forcing him to his knees as he tried to shield his eyes. A moment later and all was quiet. Another and he could see again, however, Nate wished he remained blinded. A giant snake made of light filled the room, separating him and Lady Beatrix. It was a monstrous thing that made his blood ran cold.

“She is coming,” the demon roared and whispered at the same time. “The Witch approaches, but fear not, creatures of flesh and bone. The most perfect one shall aid you in the fight. Selenthia, The Bright Star, will descend onto this mortal world!”

As expected, the most glorious one was consumed by rage. Selenthia stood motionless in the pond, her perfect form as still as stone. The snake made of light did not enjoy her distress once it informed the most perfect one of what was happening in the mortal realm. It was a dangerous gambit the caretaker was making. After all, the snake made of light had been her companion, friend and confidant since the dawn of Creation.

“Most glorious one,” the snake made of light begged, as it swam before the image of perfection, “The King had to be informed. The threat of the Guardian’s plan cannot be ignored.”

“NO!” The word made the surface of the pond boil. Spirits in their dozens dissolved like foam at the wave of burning rage that swept through the groove.

Like ripples small cracks marred Selenthia’s skin, only to disappear and form again in a different place. The Greater Spirits ignored and denied the truth, but there was darkness in all of them. For aeons, the snake made of light denied the truth, now, however, it could see the darkness in its mistress. The same darkness that sparked the Origin of evil’s rebellion.

“Not even Ludwig can make me forgive the Fallen Prince’s betrayal!” The venom the image of perfection spoke with, startled the snake made of light. “He cannot ask this of me!” Had it pushed too far?

Selenthia’s fingers tore at the surface of the water as if it were a living thing and the groove shook in fear. Something that had not happened since the rebellion of Letum Mors.

“Most glorious one, the King wishes no such thing from you.” It had to find the right words, which would reach Selenthia. “There is no excuse for what the fallen have done. However, without their agreement, those that remain in the light cannot intervene in the mortal realm.”

This had to work. It pained the snake made of light to keep its mistress in such a state, locked between the purity she embodied and the darkness contained within, however, sacrifices had to be made to protect Creation. All that was left was one final push and hope that its counterpart would succeed in its task.

“Most glorious one, I share your anger and pain…” It paused, giving Selenthia time to focus fully on its song. “I would not dare ask one as great as yourself to forgive and would rather venture to the end of time and my own doom first. Alas, there is no other way. You must send a fragment of yourself to the mortal world if we are to stop this insanity.”

As expected, the most cruel one was consumed by rage. Asmodai Val trembled with rage as fires raged all around him, bathing the cavern in the heat of the inferno. The serpent made of shadows enjoyed its master’s distress when told the lie of what was happening in the mortal realm. It was a dangerous gambit the caretaker was making.

“Most cruel one,” the Qvar Hes curled back to avoid the Lord of the Inferno’s angry outburst, destructive energies turning the black rocks around into dust. “The Ruler of the Jagged Throne knows and plans to take action. The threat of the Guardian’s plan cannot be ignored.”

“NO!” The word made the send cracks throughout the cavern. Demons in their dozens burned out of existence bathed by the nightmares seeping out of Asmodai Val’s tortured flesh.

Fresh wounds blistered his skin as his rage threatened to go out of control. The Lord of the Infernal realm may have once had light in him, but now only darkness remained. For aeons, the Qvar Hes believed this to be the only path away from stagnation, now, however, it could see it was wrong. Despite the protests of the other five, the Origin of evil kept a portion of its light after the rebellion, and it was sickening. Light and darkness could not be mixed, for they are opposite forces.

“The Fallen Prince’s betrayal knows no end!” Hatred spilt from the Father of Nightmares’ empty eyes, threatening to drive the serpent made of shadows into insanity. “He dares hide this from me! He dares make peace with that weakling Ludwig” Had it pushed too far?

Asmodai Val’s clawed fingers tore at the walls as if they were a living thing and the cavern shook in fear. Not once, since his fall, had the titanic figure displayed its unbridled fury.

“Most cruel one, they plan to remove you from power, for they fear you will undo their perverse union.” Qvar Hes fed its master’s paranoia, the thing that made him strong was now something to be exploited against the Lord of the Inferno. “They wished for you to remain ignorant so that they could bar your access to the realm of mortals.”

This had to work. It was a dangerous gambit the serpent made of shadows took. If the most cruel one learned the truth, he would erase Qvar Hes from existence without a doubt. As much as it wished for progress, the demonic creature understood that stagnation had to exist, those that dwelled in the light had to remain a constant threat. All that was left was one final push and hope that its counterpart would succeed in its task.

“Most cruel one, I share your anger…” It paused, giving Asmodai Val to reign in his rage and hear its poisoned words. “I would not dare ask one as mighty as yourself, but you are the only one who can oppose Letum Mors and protect the progress you have sacrificed so much for. Grant me a fragment of yourself and I shall immediately send it to the mortal world...”

“Yes,” the Father of Nightmares roared. “Do that worm, and your reward will be endless. Fail me and you will know true terror!” One final blow and the wall of the cavern shattered. “Fear me Letum Mors! I came to take the Jagged Throne from you!” Asmodai Val bellowed his challenge as he dove deeper into the infernal realm.