The impromptu duo repelled patrols after patrols on their own. They had not taken a single step back for a full minute, and a dozen unconscious bodies laid around them. However, the flux of new guards was endless and more arrived than they could take on their own, given a no kill constraint.

The city guards were more hesitant to go in, though. They had realized they couldn’t even scratch the two men dancing between their swords with eerie motions. One was old and sneaky, with a hundred different tricks to pass their defense and stun them. The other was young and vigorous. He stayed inside the fray, immovable and unattainable.

Instinctively, the two Nightmare veterans had found their common rhythm. With his sheer control of the fight, Mahon handled most of the guards, keeping them close to him while staying untouchable. Belanor orbited nearby, disabling the guards one after the other. Anytime the guards started to circle him, he fled away and came back at another angle.

Mahon wasn’t Flowing, and he needed all his attention focused on the fight to stay in control. He was struggling to dance between twenty guards, trying to tear him apart. He blocked some swords, dodged others, and moved in a way the guards were always hindering each other. He was at the limit of Flowing. Always remaining calm, he carefully balanced his pace not to trigger it.

Focused so intently on the fight and himself, he didn’t see the massive reinforcement arriving. Belanor did, however, and he started pulling away until he realized Mahon was too concentrated and hadn’t noticed.

“Boy! Disengage! More are coming!”

Hearing the order, Mahon instinctively started to move towards the numerous street alleys where their comrades had fled to just a moment ago, but the mass of guards was too much for him to cut through directly. Still, Mahon managed to push it, step by step, in the direction he wanted to.

But it was too slow. He couldn’t break the encirclement in a short time. Mahon ducked under a swipe and kicked behind a knee, sending a soldier to the ground. He stepped in the gap immediately, but coming swords prevented him from moving further in.

He blocked and counterattacked, forcing the guards to step back. He rushed close to them, rendering their sword useless at this distance, and elbowed and punched left and right. He managed to pass by another couple of soldiers before stopping again to parry another attack.

Too slow. I will not make it in time. Should I reveal the Flow? Or should I get captured and escape?

While Mahon pondered his best course of actions to maximize his chance of joining the inner cultists, a guard suddenly went limp on his left and collapsed on the floor. Belanor’s focused face appeared in place of the guard, and Mahon instantly worked with him to widen the path.

Together they pushed the guards away enough that Mahon finally broke out of the encirclement. In a look, he assessed the situation and noticed for the first time dozens and dozens of city guards rushing to help their comrades.

Without wasting more time, Belanor grabbed his arm and pulled him towards their escape path.

“Move, boy! Run as fast as you can!”

Belanor let go of his arm a few steps after, and the two men started a mad rush away from the guards. The physical condition of the two veterans was a full step ahead of the regular guards’ one, and they managed to increase the distance, street after street.

Mahon followed Belanor in the maze of narrow alleys at breakneck speed. They could hear whistles coming from everywhere around them, and sometimes they ran into a patrol at the corner of the street. They were often less surprised than the guards, and although they took care of them quickly each time, the main force was gaining ground every second they stopped to fight.

The minutes stretched out in this stressful situation, and soon the two men were out of breath and exhausted. The incessant fights and runs took a heavy toll, but they clenched their teeth and moved forwards, deeper and deeper into the maze.

Slowly, they met fewer patrols along the way, and the whistles came from farther away. Minutes later and they were finally alone in a street for the first time. When Belanor felt safe enough to try it, he knocked at a door. They waited for excruciatingly long seconds, weary of guards suddenly appearing, their last efforts all for nought. Alas, their prayers were answered, and the door opened.

Belanor pushed his way in without a care and shut the door immediately after Mahon went inside. The woman who had opened gestured for them to go deeper inside the house and led them to a hidden room.

She left them inside, and the two veterans listened carefully while regulating their breath, swords still unsheathed. Minutes passed in suspense to the muffled sounds of rushing men and whistles. First, it came closer, and the two warriors were ready for anything. Then it moved in the distance, and they knew they could finally rest.

They sat abruptly on the ground with a sigh, dropping their weapon.

“Oh, boy. What a fight.”

Mahon smiled back at him. “Fada, I hope every mission isn’t like that…”

Belanor laughed loudly at his words, releasing the tension built in the past hour. “Yes, it’s not good for my old bones.” The old veteran fixed Mahon for a second before continuing. “Thanks for helping instead of running. Would have turned very nasty otherwise.”

Mahon acquiesced slowly, thinking about the best answer to justify his actions. “I’ve never left a man behind in Nightmare, and I don’t intend to start in Ratho.” He finally said.

The two men nodded to each other, as if to approve of each other’s values. A comfortable silence replaced their short conversation while they relaxed for the first time of the night. Belanor made them stay an hour inside the hideout before he led Mahon back to the meeting point.

The streets were strangely empty, and the two men were careful not to draw any attention to themselves while they walked. Their swords were hidden under their clothes, which they had switched while in the hideout, and they managed to reach their destination unimpeded.

They were welcomed cheerfully by the rest of the band, the veiled lady with her three candidates, including the limping man, the two others candidates from the backup team, and all the members of the diversion team.

It seemed the later members had all managed to escape the guards without a problem, whereas both the backup team and the igniting team had lost one member each. With two deaths, the group was reduced to exactly twelve candidates, and Mahon couldn’t help but think it was too perfect.

Is it pure luck or did Belanor actually planned two deaths?

Mahon hadn’t much time to ponder as Belanor spoke.

“Congratulations to everyone! The mission is a success. The alchemist shop blaspheming the Fada by regulating the no-dream pills has burned to ashes!”

The little group cheered happily at the announcement, and Belanor let them enjoy it for a bit before continuing.

“Unfortunately, we lost two members in the field. One is dead, and the other killed herself before being captured by the city guards. Brave girl…” Belanor paused for a second. “You knew the risk, and now you know they’re more than real. You all passed the test. You all can join our rank if you’re still willing to do so.”

The men and women nodded fervently. No one would back up from his engagement now.

“To prove your trust in the cult one last time, you’ll be guided, eyes closed, into our headquarters. We’ll take you there, one after the other.” Belanor gestured for two people from the distraction team. “You two first. The others wait here until we come back.”

Maïa and Belanor each took out a blue ribbon and tied it around their respective candidate’s head. After making sure they couldn’t see through it, they left the room with an arm around their own candidates to guide them.

Half an hour later, they came back and chose two other candidates. The scene repeated itself five times in front of Mahon’s eyes before he was selected. Rizzo, with which he had fought a few hours ago, was the second candidate of the last batch. They exchanged a look before the blue ribbon forced them into a black world.

Belanor’s firm grip pushed Mahon towards the exit, and Mahon let himself be guided by the old veteran. He relaxed his muscles and followed along the indications of Belanor. His trust in the man was far from absolute, but in such an exercise, he couldn’t afford to be hesitant and start to doubt every indication, every sound or bumping cobble under his shoes.

The old veteran was trusty enough that Mahon had no trouble letting the man guide him for almost twenty minutes. Belanor never broke the silence, leaving Mahon utterly isolated the whole duration of the experience.

Mahon had some trouble walking up the final stairs upon which Belanor finally removed the ribbon. They were in front of a closed door, and Belanor pushed it open to let Mahon in.

The room was similar to a dormitory, with a dozen beds taking most of it. The other candidates were all already here, except for Rizzo. A stranger in a long, deep green cape welcomed Mahon with a nod.

“Welcome here, candidate. Please choose a bed and wait for everyone to arrive.”

Mahon did so, and a few minutes later, Rizzo entered the room. The stranger repeated his welcome, and when everyone was seated on a bed, he spoke.

“Welcome again, every one of you. Thank you for your sacrifice to our cause. You’ve shown your determination and proved your abilities several times now. We deem you ready to join the Fada cult for good. But do you know why the Fada cult really exists?”

“To stop the war and bring back the Fada.” Rizzo answered with confidence.

“A good answer. But how do we know that? Has anyone seen a Fada in the past centuries, or even millennia? How do we know they’ll come back?”

A silence settled in the room while the candidate went into thinking.

“We’ve preached. We’ve told you it was so, and you have believed us, showing your good faith in the Fada. I’m sure sometimes you’ve doubted what we were doing. You wanted to be sure the Fada would come back. Tonight, I’m here to present you with the answers to all your interrogations. The Fada cult was born from a book. A book that reveals part of the truth the nobles want to hide. I’m ready to explain to you what the content of this book is. If you swear allegiance. Not to us, as we’re just messengers, but to the Fada, the ones who matter.”

The speech had roused the curiosity of more than one inside the room, and they all looked eager to know more.

“You probably noticed the beds in this room. Swearing allegiance to the Fada can’t be done in Ratho. We must go to Nightmare. A few of the inner members are already waiting for you there. Please, join them.”

A book? Nightmare? Were we wrong to think the noble families are behind this?

Mahon wasn’t sure what to think about it, but he followed along with the order, nonetheless. Half a minute later, he appeared in Nightmare. He was the first among the candidates, and he immediately got circled by a man and a woman. Although Nightmare prevented him from recognizing their faces, he could easily guess who they were.

“Who are you?” The woman asked.

“Mahon.” He answered without hesitation.

“And who are we?”

“Belanor and Maïa, I’d assume.”

“Welcome back to Nightmare, boy. Go wait there for the others.” Belanor pointed to a nearby location.

A few minutes later, and everyone had dreamed to Nightmare. The stranger who had welcomed them previously in Ratho also joined. The little group then went walking farther away from the spawning point.

After a good hour of walking, they joined another group of people, seemingly waiting for them. They had gone in the exact opposite direction from Mahon’s usual meditating spot, maybe explaining why Mahon had never spotted such a group before in the generally empty Nightmare.

Including the twelve candidates, there were now almost thirty people grouped together. A bad feeling made Mahon shiver. The last time he had seen that many people together in Nightmare had been when Travaran had tried to ambush Zac and him.