Martell could hear his blood screaming as it coursed through his veins. He could feel the thunderous roar of his heart, as he righted himself next to the mangled corpse of the dead God. He didn’t know what the Pathari Saar wished to do, but it couldn’t be anything good. Only a single question remained in his head. Had he been fast enough? Such a thought would never have occurred in the mind of the person he used to be before the Tyrants of Scoria changed him. The speed and force of his charge had caught the Second off-guard, resulting in not only the destruction of the last remaining Hollow God but in the warrior crushing with enormous force the arcane contraptions behind it and tumbling to the ground.

He was about to let out the breath he was holding when Inney’s terrified scream reverberated through the chamber. Almost snapping his neck, Martell turned his head to look at the elf. The moment he saw the reason for her reaction, his blood froze, and all the strength was drained from his body. Regis was on the ground. Unmoving, as still as a corpse, his veins turned black, while a spider-web of greenish lines spread out from his heart. The Second wanted to scream, to cry, to rush to his friend’s side, be he couldn’t move. “Stop and you die.” Never had those words rang truer than in this moment. They should be celebrating their victory. Instead, each of the Slayers was frozen in place, with the same shocked expression engraved on their faces. Each struggling to comprehend how such a small projectile, could have downed a man such as their leader.

Only Inney’s face was different. It was a mask of terror. The elf shouted and cursed as she cradled Regis’ head gently in her hands. The last time he had seen her in such a state, was when Martell brought back Nina’s body to the village of their birth. He couldn’t go through the same thing. He couldn’t lose Regis as well. Without him, what was the point, what was the reason for Martell to continue? He was no leader. Sure, he could bark orders, and control the people under his command, but the Second was simply giving voice to the plans Regis had outlined.

“Do something!” Inney yelled at no one in particular before her eyes turned to look at Martell and pleaded in a voice filled with so much unbearable pain. “Mar, do something.”

He wanted to. No, he needed to act however, for the first time since he awoke, the Second’s mind was empty. Still, he struggled and pushed his thoughts to assess the situation. But the more he thought about it, the more Martell realised there was nothing he could do. If it was magic that fell Regis, there was nothing the warrior could do. And if it were poison, he would need time to ascertain what kind and how to counter it. However, time was the one commodity none of them had. It took the Second a heartbeat to realise that everyone was waiting for him to provide them with guidance, to order them into action. The issue was that he had no idea what orders to give.

Thankfully salvation came, in the form of Till. The old apothecary, breaking the spell that had taken a hold of them and hurling himself towards Regis. However, his eagerness to check on the condition of their leader was cut by Inney’s animalistic snarls, as she snapped at him.

“Don’t touch him!” The elf’s arm moved with the speed of a striking viper, catching the apothecary by the throat.

It was push Martell needed to act. Before he could form a plan, he was already upon Inney, pinning her to the ground. She struggled against his grip, but the difference between their physical strength had remained, despite the changes done to them. A part of the warrior’s mind informed him, that she was exerting tremendous amounts of force, that would snap an ordinary person’s limbs like dry twigs, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how incredible the Hollow Gods’ work was in reshaping the Slayers.

“Get off me, Mar!” Inney screamed and snarled as she thrashed underneath him. “Don’t touch him, butcher!” She suddenly yelled at Thill, who was examining Regis. “Don’t you dare, or I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll kill all of you! Traitorous bastards! You did this to him!”

Nothing of what she said made any sense and Martell was starting to believe that the elf had lost her mind. He knew that things looked bad, but Inney should have been stronger than this. She was supposed to be more resilient than this. Inney hadn’t broken down when her sister died. Back then, the woman had turned violent and her rage knew no limits as she directed at him. And with good reason, Martell reminded himself. But she did not break. The Second knew that the elf and Regis had become closer, however that was not enough to explain why her mind shattered like glass with such ease.

Slowly, Martell’s thoughts drifted back to his time in the forest of Mardaar. To the days after he had returned from the Bleak. And with those memories came all the pain and suffering he had endured. Worse of all, he could look back and see what he did wrong. But this knowledge wasn’t comforting, not without a way to correct his mistakes. Perhaps, if they… If he bent to the will of the Hollow Gods, they could have allowed him a way to go back and make sure that Nina survived. That alone was a good enough reason to even contemplate the notion.

Too late Martell realised that he had relaxed his hold on Inney. Underestimating her was dangerous and he should’ve known better, as the elf’s arm bent at an almost unnatural angle and delivered a powerful blow to his jaw. It was enough to shake the Second back into reality. With this also came the realisation that something was horribly wrong with his mind. This self-doubt caused by the deep melancholy he kept locked inside his heart, was something he knew and controlled. Never before had it impaired his judgement or caused him to falter in his role as Second.

Quickly the warrior shifted his position and properly pinned the apoplectic elf to the cold metal floor. As he did so, he could feel the same thoughts as before trying to worm their way into his mind, trying to poison his will. This had to be the work of the Hollow Gods, their last desperate attempt to drag the Slayers down with them in death. A single look at the other was enough to confirm Martell’s theory. They were all on edge, a single word away from falling upon one another like wild animals. Already arguments were breaking out between people, and he could see murder in more than one eye. He had to take hold of the mercenaries before the situation spiralled out of control. However, that was almost impossible while he struggled to keep Inney in check.

“Till?” Martell asked, hoping for some good news.

“Shut it! I need time and some fucking quiet to work!” The apothecary barked back, frustration twisting his face.

The Second had thought that perhaps the old man would have kept his temper in check due to his age and the experience that came with it and because Till was one of the hardest people to annoy among the ranks of the Slayers. By no means did that make the apothecary any less dangerous or deadly when pushed. But it made him the one both Martell and Regis turned to for advice when in doubt. This was actually the first Till had spoken in such a way to the warrior, as far as he could remember. Something was definitely very wrong and it had to do with Regis.

Still, it was enough to spur Martell into barking at the trio of mages huddled together at the back of the group. “Nadene! This is magic! The same or similar to the one the Hollow Gods used in Scoria Tria!”

How could he have missed it? It should have been so obvious, now that he thought about it. The Slayers were acting in a similar fashion, to how they were right after the firestorm. Well, Sarduk had thought of a way how to combat it then, he would find a way to do it again. However, Martell realised, he hadn’t called on the shaman, instead, he had issued the warning to Nadene. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it, but there was something about the mage that made him trust her more in this matter. It had to do with the changes brought upon them, but could he place his trust in the work of the Hollow Gods? For all he knew, the Second might be playing right into their trap.

“Will you stop?” Martell snarled at the struggling Inney. He couldn’t concentrate because of her.

Before the warrior could realise what he was doing, the bar mace in his hand was already in motion. It took considerable effort, for him to redirect the strike and miss the elf’s head. The deadly weapon embedded itself in the cold floor with a loud clung that caught everyone’s attention. As if by some miracle, the moment of silence that followed was broken by the sound of a sharp intake of breath from Regis. A second later, a wave of calmness spread through Martell, his thoughts returning to normal.

“Get off of me,” Inney demanded, while she kept perfectly still, before adding in voice only he could hear. “I’m sorry, Mar.”

That was enough for the Second to push himself away from her, and kneel next to Regis. As expected, the elf joined him with all haste, almost slipping in her eagerness to stand next to the leader of the mercenaries. Martell noticed the kindness with which she took hold of Regis’ hand, and he could feel the love between them. They didn’t need to say anything, he could see it in their eyes, in the faint hint of a smile on his friend’s lips, in the way Inney let out the breath she was holding. He should be happy for them, but instead, all Martell felt was pain and anger. But he couldn’t let it show. It wasn’t right for him to feel jealous of them. All this moment did was bring back the thought of Nina and the Second couldn’t stand it. Realising that he was slipping again, he turned to Till, looking for a distraction.

“How is he?”

“How should I know?!” The old man snapped at him, before lowering his head in an apology. “Forgive me, Second. My temper is getting the best of me right now.”

“There’s no need for that, old prune,” Martell placed a hand on the man’s shoulder and forced a smile on his face. It was a hollow gesture, but the apothecary needed it, as much as Martell did.

“Right. We should really talk about the way you youngsters address me,” Till scoffed before returning his attention to Regis. With a gesture, he stopped the tough mercenary from trying to stand up. “There’s too much I don’t know. And almost as much I do know. All because of these bastards,” the old man pointed with disgust at the corpses of the Hollowed Gods.

“I don’t think I understand, Till-” Martell venture to say, only to be cut off.

“Don’t pretend to be dumb, boy.” This time there was genuine anger in the apothecary’s words. “You’re a smart man, Mar. Sometimes too smart to properly hide it. Whatever these bustards did, it didn’t only change our bodies. It changed our minds. There’s knowledge in here,” Till tapped the side of his head, as he continued, “that wasn’t there before.”

“I’m not sure-“

“I’m warning you, Mar. Don’t pretend to be dumb. It doesn’t suit it,” Till lifted a single finger in warning.

There was no threat in that simple gesture, but it made the warrior feel like he was being scolded by the father he never had. It was an odd sensation, and one he could say with certainty he didn’t like. Yet, as much as he wanted to protest, the Second kept his mouth shut. Even Regis was obediently laying on his back in silence. And Martell didn’t need to look around to know that all of the remaining Slayers were listening very carefully to what Till had to say.

“You feel it too, even if you can’t understand it or make sense of it,” a note of insanity appeared in the apothecary’s voice as he continued.

“They’ve crammed all the knowledge they possess in your head. And in my, and Inney’s, and I don’t know why, but Big Uhr’s too. But that’s the thing, we are mortal- We used to be mortal men and women, and as such, can’t understand it. We lack the reference to do so, but with time, we all will be privy to thoughts and ideas, that are the property of Gods!”

At this point, Martell was convinced that Till had lost his mind. However, as much as he wanted to laugh at the old senile man, he knew or rather understood, that he was speaking the truth.

“So, trust me when I say that I don’t and do know what is wrong with Regis,” Till finished with a frustrated sigh.

“Fine,” Marell tried to keep his voice level. “Answer me this then. Is he going to be fine?”

“That’s a hard question.”

“You know, I don’t appreciate it that you two are talking, as if I’m not here,” Regis interjected, though the Second could hear that there was worry in his voice. “I feel great. A little hungry, but other than that – great.”

“Objectively, the arrow has barely pierced his skin,” Till continued, completely ignoring the words of the man who was supposed to be his commander.

Before Regis could open his mouth again, he received a wordless warning from Inney who clicked her tongue and squeezed his hand.

“I’m more worried about this… Well, for a lack of a better word, let’s call it corruption.” The apothecary placed his finger over the web of red lines spreading out from Regis’ heart and visible on his skin. “I can tell you that it’s nothing good, but that’s as much as I can put into words right now. And without proper tools, there’s actually nothing more I can say.”

“But will he be fine?” Martell demanded with a little too much force in his voice.

“For the moment – yes. But it will all depend on how fast it spreads. Now, I would like to have a look at each of you lot, while Nadene and Sarduk work on countering the magic used against us,” Till demanded as he stood up and waled to the far some distance back from the chamber housing the corpse of the last of the Hollow Gods.

“Line up!” Martell barked the order, not giving the Slayers any time to question the apothecary’s motives. “Mekset and Os first. Calder and Sarjak guard the mages. When they are done – switch. Everyone else after them. Last are Cylin, Nadene and Sarduk, with two working on the spells at all time.”

A roar of confirmations answered him, as the mercenaries hurried to obey the order. The years of working together were finally paying off. Helped by their need to do something in the current situation, but that was precisely why the Second issued the orders. And there were more to follow.

“Seth, Dominik and Sonja, when Till is done with you three, head back and scout the area. Mark any passages or tunnels you take. Big Uhr, Little Uhr and Lilly are our second scouting group. I want a way of this place, and I want it found yesterday.”

The last remark was met with laughter from the Slayers. It was good to see them move with purpose, although, Martell still looked at Sarduk for confirmation. The last thing any of them needed was to jump at one another’s throat because of the spell used against them, the moment they were out of sight. The slight nod was all the confirmation he needed. However, Martell wanted to be safe, so he gathered the six people who were going to form the two scouting parties, and ordered them to check with the mages before setting off.

“That’s was very smart of you, Mar,” Regis smiled next to him once the mercenaries were in motion. “You can relax now. I can take over from here.”

“What did Till say?”

“You don’t get to use that excuse a second time, Mar,” there was a warning in Regis’ voice. A far more obvious one to what his friend usually used. “Seriously, my friend, you should relax a little. In the name of the Dragon Lords, we just killed the Gods of Scoria! If anything, we should be celebrating.”

“Second, you’re next,” Till called out before Martell could retort.

Without saying a word, the warrior made his way to the apothecary. They remained quiet, while the old man did his examination. Checking the joints by bending his limbs, making sure his eyes were seeing properly, and a few other tests Martell couldn’t understand. This continued for several minutes before Till spoke quietly.

“Did you notice?” There were a lot of ways the Second could interpret the question, but he knew exactly what the apothecary was asking.

“Only on Inney and Seth.”

“Not only them. It’s on all of us. Hard to see, but it’s there,” Till placed his hand on Martell’s chest, directing his attention to one particular spot.

Ture, it was very hard to see at first, but now that he knew where to look, the Second could see the faint outlines of the same web of red lines circling the area around his heart. Not daring to make any conclusion, he looked expectingly at Till.

“I don’t know,” the old man shook his head. “It’s too early to determine how fast it spreads, but for the moment it doesn’t appear to have any noticeable effect on any of us.”

“Should I be worried that someone will be falling on a blade?” Martell found it hard to keep both his voice and face emotionless. The implication in Till’s words was disconcerting.

“I can only hope that it will not come to this.” The Second didn’t like the uncertainty in the old man’s statement.

“This stays between the two of us, Till. Do you understand?” Martell took a firm grip of the man’s hand, exerting just enough pressure to convey the gravity of the demand. “You convince the others that’s is part of the changes. Before they start asking questions. And it has to be you the one who convinces them. They won’t trust it if they hear it from me.”

“And what of Regis? You plan to keep him in the dark too?” The challenge in the apothecary’s voice was starting to test Martell’s patience.

Carefully not to be noticed, he looked at their leader. Seeing him laughing and sharing words with the other members of the Slayers, was enough for the Second to confirm that he was making the choice.

“He is drunk on this victory. We keep him in the dark until we learn more.”