The Pale Spire shrunk into a distant tooth on the horizon as the angel and the servant navigated the lanes of ruin left behind by the battle. As the angel led the way through the ancient city, she stopped often to stare into the gutted buildings with a troubled look on her face.

The wagon that she pushed…it frightened Alric. It almost appeared alive the way vahlnid and skeinar were. It was made of thick, heavy, metal-like bone much like ogres and golems. It made a faint buzzing sound as the angel pushed it along.

The same great gate that Alric and his party had used to enter this region of the Under soon lay before them. Its metallic shell had been scarred; a cluster of large, blackened dents disfigured its once pristine surface. The glyph tablet by its side flashed red. Madsen left her wagon and approached the tablet, gritting her teeth. Alric stared at her face, mesmerised by the almost-sickening texture of her flesh. The patch of hair on her head was short and held the colour of dead leaves. Strands of it trickled slightly over the rim of her forehead. As Madsen operated the tablet, she made peculiar expressions and rustled her hair with her left hand.

“Will it still allow us passage?” he asked.

Madsen continued operating the glyphs, ignoring Alric entirely. His mind wandered into a place it was not permitted to go. He had dedicated his entire life to serving Heaven. He had killed a hundred people personally, thousands through his commands, all in the name of the Lord. And there she was, an angel. A being of pure heavenly grace. And she did not even seem to fully acknowledge his existence. Not even the slightest recognition for the daily sacrifices he made to measure his faith. He had no personal wealth or family name due to the First Attestation. Because of the Second Attestation, the weight of his armour had pushed his body to the brink of collapse. His voice was made hoarse by eternally preaching the word of the Father, as dictated by the Third Attestation. And finally, the Fourth Attestation had him never turn his back on those in need if they practised the one true faith. He had committed himself to all of that for almost two decades, and after roughly four hours spent together, the angel did not even bother to ask his name.

What is this refuse that flows through thy mind, Alric? It is selfish! Prideful! Sinful! Thou act not in the name of God expecting immediate reward. No. These thoughts hath no place in thy mind. Dispel them at once…and pray for forgiveness. Her behaviour suits her nature. She is a being of Heaven, so far above thee that thou art but a grain of sand to her divine sight.

The angel finally moved from the great gate and sent her gaze along the rest of the massive chamber. Alric followed her line of sight and eventually settled on the location of a second gate several leagues away. From where he stood, it did not appear to be damaged.

Without a word, Madsen slunk back to the wagon and pushed it towards this new great gate. Alric, with a sigh, followed.

He felt relieved to be rid of the thrysteen. It was only a reminder of Carthei and the druids. She hadn’t sworn herself to the Father…so she is undoubtedly suffering now in the pits of Hell. Why, Carthei…? It did not have to end that way. What of thy tribe? Will they continue to move against the angel? Must I strike them down as well?

He decided not to scavenge a larger weapon from one of his fallen brothers; the tight quarters of the tunnels would make using longer weapons more difficult. His heirloom longsword would be more appropriate.

When the angel and her mortal servant reached the second gate after twenty minutes of walking, she operated the glyphs with speed that made Carthei appear as clumsy as Alric. They stepped into the gate and waited for it to seal itself. When the trails of steam hissed out from the corners of the chamber, Alric watched Madsen’s face warp. She sniffed fiercely and scrunched her nose. Then she reeled back, drawing a deep breath. Completely out of the blue, she reeled forward and expelled a sharp gust of air and mist out of her nose and mouth with a loud, strange sound.

"Achoo!"

The Thestor's body was ravaged by a wave of shock, causing him to prance away from the holy being.

Madsen wiped her nose with the back of her hand and looked at her lowly peon. Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

Alric said nothing, instead he just waited with dread dripping from his eyes. Was she dying? Was she being possessed?

"You don't sneeze. First thing that makes any sense about you," the angel grumbled, sniffling. Abruptly, she made that same involuntary action again.

The other side of the great gate opened and Madsen continued on her way, leaving a very perplexed Alric to ruminate on the nature of ‘sneezing’. This great gate led into a smaller cavern with a pool of water nestled in the far left corner. A great deal of mining equipment had been dropped haphazardly onto the ground…perhaps the miners fled when the battle broke out. They could still be lurking within the tunnels.

Worried by potential enemies, Alric made haste to catch up with Madsen. “Thy eminence, if I may, I must insist that I tread first. My life is of no worth when compared to thine.”

One of the angel’s brows slowly arched upward. Alric still couldn’t decide if he was repulsed or enthralled by her appearance. Without any warning whatsoever, she threw something at him.

It was mere luck that Alric managed to throw his left hand up in time to catch it. When he inspected the item, he discovered that it was one of those light-projecting artefacts used by the druids. He closely inspected it, seeing that it was remarkably smooth and light. He had no idea what the material was, but it was similar to what thrysteens were made of.

Madsen pointed at the object as Alric gazed at her, confused. “Okay so you wanna just press the button.” The Thestor rubbed the artefact. “No, press the button.” He slapped it. “No…no. The button.” When he turned the thing over in his hands, Alric sighed when he saw a bright red circle on the opposite side. It taketh a certain kind of imbecile to make a fool of himself before a guardian of Heaven… Madsen urged, “Okay, yeah. That one. Press it.”

When he followed her instruction, the artefact spewed a cone of light out into the dank cavern.

Madsen nodded very slowly. “Good. Jesus Christ… Okay, now just turn it a little and put the other side up against the side of your helmet.”

Alric tilted his head in confusion.

The angel shut her eyes and inhaled sharply through her nose to indicate her growing wrath. “You know how to press something against your head, right?” she said when her eyes flicked open.

Her anger spurred him to frantically comply. Alric brought the artefact up towards his head, but just before he made contact with the helmet, the thing leapt from his fingers. It flung itself onto the side of his bascinet with a 'clang'…and stuck there.

As he turned his head in fright, the light shone directly in front of him, exactly where he was looking. It was…even more ingenious than what the druids did in attaching the light-spitters to their staves. Alric tried to pull it off. After a moment of very peculiar resistance, the device slid off with ease.

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Madsen called.

The Thestor reattached the relic to his helmet and tried to tame his bewildered mind by pressing onward. He did not have the necessary insight to try and understand how such sorcery worked, so he did his best to simply accept it as a gift from Heaven.

Much of the darkness was beaten back by the angel’s gift. Despite having seen such a relic at work before, Alric could not help but feel humbled as he wielded the power. It was like the small object contained the brightness of the midday sun itself. Wherever he pointed it in the winding tunnels, nothing could be kept from him.

Eventually, after spending some time navigating this new passage, Alric suddenly came to a halt. He could have sworn he heard faint whispers bouncing off the walls of the tunnel.

“Hey, what’s the hold up?” Madsen asked much too loudly.

Alric turned back to her and placed a finger against his lips. The angel did not appear to be impressed by this gesture. However, her face soon transitioned from annoyance to worry when she too realised that it was not as silent as it once was mere moments ago.

As the Thestor inched ahead, the talking only grew in volume. Its source lay beyond the sharp turn ahead of the pair. Alric reached for his light-spitter and pressed the button, plunging the tunnel into pitch black darkness. He slowly shifted himself toward the corner and listened.

“Come on, ain’t no time for fuckin’ about,” barked the voice of a gruff woman.

Yellow haze spilled out from around the jagged stone corner; the light of a lantern. He could then hear metallic clinking…perhaps the sounds of pickaxes against stone. Another voice answered, "Just give 'em some more time. They're almost through."

"I'm tellin' ya, that was the sound of the gate openin'. If the Tethspeakers are comin' ta check on us, I ain't gonna just wait for them."

"Alison, just wait a few more minutes aye? If we don't break through by then, I'll come with ya, alright?"

After a brief pause, the woman sighed. "Fine."

Alric relaxed his posture. However…he heard something behind him. It was Madsen inhaling. Before he could turn around, the near-silence morphed into a cacophonous thunderclap. Another sneeze echoed through the labyrinthine tunnels, folding over itself in the infinite darkness.

"What tha fuck wazzat?!"

"F-Fuck…!"

Footsteps swelled. When Alric saw a silhouette emerge from behind the bend, blotting out the warm lantern light, he pushed his visor down and drew his longsword as he lunged forward. He half-sworded his weapon, jabbing it into the approaching Clthic in an effort to spear him like a boar.

The Thestor's sword parted the fibres of the miner's clothing, skin, then flesh without any meaningful resistance. His charge rammed the screaming man into the opposite wall of the tunnel. Alric pulled the blade free, then twirled it across the man’s neck.

The cries turned into gargled gasping as the longsword sliced cleanly through three inches of the Clthic’s neck. As Alric turned to his left, he saw at least twelve more Clthic workers all with their attention keenly placed upon him. Seven rushed towards him brandishing pickaxes. Instantly, Alric took several steps backward into the more narrow section of the tunnel; it was vital that they were not able to take advantage of their numbers.

The miners crowded against each other as they reached the thinning throat of the mine. Instead of all seven being able to reach him, only two or three were in range at any given moment. Alric felt the sting of their pickaxes on his body and their efforts to seize his forearms. The luckiest of the strikes vibrated harmlessly against his plate armour while most simply glanced off. They were but tools, not weapons of war. With his sword in his right hand and using his left to bat away the grabbing hands of his enemies, Alric thrusted the tip of his weapon into the neck of the nearest opponent. He did not wait to see what happened next, rather he quickly turned his attention to the others. With nothing but a narrow slice of space visible before his eyes, Alric once again faced the onslaught of pounding, disorientation, and clanging that was fighting in full plate with a lowered visor. Eventually, his desperate breaths grew into vigorous roars of exertion. He saw that he was thinning the wall of men. With their numerical advantage nullified by the environment, the miners stood no chance. Their lack of armour also meant that Alric’s longsword faced its ideal targets.

A few died quickly while most of the others slowly moaned their way to the eternal damnation that awaited them in the next life. As Alric stood over their bodies, panting and wheezing from the struggle, he looked to the remaining Clthics. Five of them were left standing, pressed against the wall on the other side of the cavern. Four quaked in terror. One of them, a woman, stared Alric defiantly in the eye.

Suddenly, all of their eyes widened. Alric realised that Madsen had come out from behind the corner, her face muddled by confusion and shock.

Alric asked her, “W-Why…why didst thou sneeze?”

Madsen, her eyelids masking half of her pupils, replied, “Dude…”

"T-The demon…he's taken the demon prisoner!" The woman miner snarled.

Alric tensed his shoulders. "This is no demon, heretic. An angel stands before thee and she shall now bear witness to thy final moments.”

The remaining miners did not repeat the mistakes of their fallen compatriots. Instead of rushing forward to Alric, they remained in the wider portion of the mine. If the Thestor met them there, they could encircle him, force his helmet open, and dispatch him with ease. Suddenly, he wished that he had taken a spear from the battlefield. Alric stood his ground, his breathing loosely following a staccato rhythm.

Suddenly, one of the miners had the very light behind his eyes vanish. His body went completely limp as he slapped onto the ground. Before long, another followed. Then another. Each fell without any semblance of control over their falls; their forms awkwardly collided with the rock around them and eventually settled in painfully contorted shapes.

The Thestor peered over his shoulder. Madsen had in her hands the same enchanted tablet that she used when she was mending his wounds.

Seconds lager, only one of them was left, the gruff-sounding woman. She had no sign of fear in her eyes. For that, Alric had to give her respect. Madsen did not dispatch her the way she did the rest, though.

“Infernal one, you have ta see through ‘is lies,” she pleaded. “I know what you are. Your people came from below. They commanded sorcery. They destroyed worlds wherever they went. The Godslave’s misleadin’ you. You’d think he’d know a demon when he saw one, the fucking halfwit.”

Alric said nothing. Instead, he turned to Madsen once more. The angel took a few steps closer to the Clthic miner, but Alric made sure to stand between them.

“Hey. My people? You’ve seen others?” Madsen asked.

The miner’s eyes fluttered and her limbs trembled. “N-No, master. The Tethspeakers…they learn usin’ what was left behind. You’re the first live one we’ve ever come across.”

Madsen raised her hands and said, “Okay…okay. So neither of you have seen a human before? Ever?”

The cavern fell silent. Alric saw Madsen wear an expression similar to the one that graced her face when she discovered that her angelic brothers and sisters had perished.

“Thy eminence, we are human. Thou art something else entirely,” corrected Alric.

The angel cocked her head. “Uh…okay.”

The Clthic miner added, “If you come with me, we can help you find others of your kind.”

It was then that Alric’s eyes flickered. Madsen tensed her jaw as the Clthic continued, “The Church is afraid of your magic, but we Clthics embrace it. We used it ta find you. Maybe it can be done again.”

“The Tethspeakers are dead. As are the Nuns,” Alric interjected. “Beggar's rock has been taken. Havar, thy dark master, is now a burnt corpse hanging by his neck upon the keep."

The Clthic woman’s irises flared. "You're bluffin'. Ain't no way in Hell you killed a vampire."

Madsen threw her hands up and shook her head. “Hold on. Vampire? Okay, fuck this shit, I’m out.”

She lifted her tablet once more, causing the miner to shut her eyes. Madsen tapped the surface of the relic and like the rest, the final miner collapsed.

Alric lifted his visor and knelt beside the bodies. “Are they…dead?”

To herself, lowly, Madsen muttered, “Can’t die if you weren’t alive in the first place.”

The sentence sent a spike into Alric’s heart. He had heard that exact statement before. It was the core pillar of the Clthic doctrine… The Thestor watched Madsen return to her cart, his heart whirring louder and louder. Was it true? Was she a demon? No, it did not make sense. She had a deep understanding of the inner-workings of man; knowledge that Alric believed could only be available to those who made them. She had performed a miracle in saving his life. Demons could not have created humanity. To believe that Madsen was a demon would be to subscribe to the Clthic teachings. It would be heresy. Alric discarded his misgivings as best he could and sheathed his longsword.

Madsen had pushed her peculiar wagon into the cavern and flung open one of the crates that were held upon it. Her upper half was buried inside the container as she dug about within. “Bingo,” she declared as she emerged with a rather large blocky artefact secured in both hands.

It, like all of the Heavenly relics, had been forged from some kind of metal. It was the size of a small cannon and was covered in dirt stains and scratches that exposed the gleaming gunmetal colour beneath its bright yellow paint. Mounted on the bottom of it were three short legs. Madsen struggled to lift the object, prompting Alric to lurch toward her. He grasped the relic and quite frankly, was shocked by how much it weighed.

The pair worked their way over to the wall that the miners were chipping away at and carefully lowered the object onto the ground. Madsen pressed and held a button on the side of the relic. After a short moment, the object chirped like a bird. Its three limbs buzzed and lengthened, raising its rectangular central mass higher off the ground.

After it grinded to a halt at chest-height, Madsen flung open a panel on the backend of the relic. The panel was a small glyph tablet that…that made Alric’s brain sputter for a moment. There, upon the tablet, was the image of the cavern wall in front if them, complete with every single notch-mark, scrape, and mineral vein. As the angel continued to operate the tablet, the Thestor slowly crept forward. Shadows danced within the image…just as they did on the actual wall. Gazing at the tablet, he waved a hand in front of the relic. A blur sloshed across it for a split second. Startled by the living picture, Alric inhaled sharply. He could not comprehend it. It was as if the artefact had eyes of its own…and the enchanted surface displayed exactly what it beheld.

Madsen stepped away from the object as it groaned to life. Its rectangular body extended forward, pressing itself against the surface of the cavern wall. It then unfurled into a mechanical flower of appendages. The limbs arranged themselves into a circular shape against the stone as the relic’s body roared with terrifying aggression.

Steady pulses of heat were expelled out of the back of the artefact as the tips of its limbs shone with divine light. Alric had no choice but to avert his eyes; it was like looking directly into the sun. The knight muttered a prayer to himself over and over, trying to steel himself in the face of such frightening power.

When the artefact’s humming died down, Alric saw a smouldering circular tunnel carved straight through the wall and into another cavern behind it. The rim of the opening boiled red hot, sizzling and popping. He did not move as Madsen quelled the powerful artefact and retracted its appendages and legs with but a touch of her hand on the tablet. Together, they stowed it back into the crate.

Once again, Alric led the way. This time, he did not need the light-spitter; the sun’s own luminescence poured sparsely into the network of caves, swelling and swelling with each step he took. Alric’s shoulders loosened as he finally stepped out of the darkness and into the open air. He took a deep breath and sent his eyes across the horizon. The tunnel had opened up against the side of a small mountain, granting the pair a beautiful view of vivid forests to the left, and a tranquil crystalline lake to the right. When Madsen emerged with her cart, she sneezed again, this time much more intensely.

Alric turned to face her, seeing that her nose was red and her eyes sunken. He was beginning to realise that her peculiar sneezing was not voluntary. She peered around at the nature that surrounded them, lip quivering in fear. “Where the fuck is everybody?” she whispered.

The knight swallowed and answered, “Thy eminence, I believe I recognise this landscape. Phaemslake is to our immediate right; last I saw, they had evacuated to escape the dragon…but that was several weeks ago now. If thou wish to find people, that may be our best course of action.”

Madsen shook her head and curled her lower lip inward. As she continued with her cart down the slope, Alric could sense that she was angered by his answer.