The Summoner lifted his hand and snapped. From behind him, a small child with a gag was shoved out of the entryway. The Summoner placed his hand atop her head, his fingers digging into the girl’s blonde hair. “We found this one skulking about recently. Quite feisty.”

Celeste looked to Vallerian, his face had gone sickly pale, eyes wide in shock. Did he know the child? From her matted blond hair and dirt-covered face she appeared a street urchin.

“Please.” Celeste called out but was cut off by Vallerian.

“You bastard, if you even…”

“It is funny.” The Summoner spoke, ignoring Vallerian’s protest. “That you think yourselves above us. You Terminians, you Pantheon sycophants.”

“The Mother created us.” Celeste responded. “All of us. I do not think myself above anyone, for we are all Her children. Even you.”

“Where was the Mother when the armies of Terminia burned my people’s homes?” The Summoner hissed, his ruby eye’s reflecting the firelight so near. “Where was Her grace and mercy when our children were slain by your men? All in the name of Seratos’s chosen king.”

Celeste swallowed. She had only heard snippets of the war; horrible tales of the things Gardinal had endured. But the pain that cracked in the man’s voice made it clear there was no lie on his tongue.

“The Chaos is not so different from your Pantheon, Prophetess. As your gods answer to prayer, mine answers to sacrifice.” He slid a knife out of his waist sash and placed the tip of it against the girl’s throat. “We are both just humble servants, serving powers so far beyond us.”

Celeste looked at the man, truly tried to see him. And as she stared at him, even from a distance, she saw the flickering within him. A light, albeit dim, and covered in a twisted darkness that was trying to consume it. Trying, but not fully succeeding yet.

“Let her go.” Celeste demanded, still leaning on Kriss for support. “Please, let her go. We can help you.”

The Summoner sneered. “Help me? The Great Master is all the help I have ever needed.”

“You don’t understand!” Celeste called out. “The Chaos is twisting your soul, corrupting you. X has tricked you, has convinced you that this is the way to get your revenge. But you don’t need revenge.” Celeste pleaded. “Please, I can purge the Chaos from your soul. I have done it, I promise.” She wasn’t sure she could cleanse a soul so incredibly tainted; the baby had only had a small pin prick of darkness on it, and that had absolutely exhausted her. But if it would help this man, would save that girl, Celeste would do it.

The Summoner chuckled. “Oh child. I sought the Chaos. I found Master X and begged him to teach me long before the Chaos touched me.” His voice shifted from humor to a dark sinister intensity. “All I want, all I have ever wanted, is to watch Terminia burn for what it did to my people.”

“No.” Celeste gasped, watching the man tighten his grip on the dagger. “The Theremya are Terminians now.” From beside her, she heard a bow string growing taught.

“We will never be Terminian.” He spat. “It matters not, my duty is clear. You will die, as the Chaos wishes, and we will have the power to burn this city to ash.”

The dagger drew a thin crimson line across the child’s throat.

A scream.

An arrow shot.

Celeste pushed away from Kriss, her legs crumpling beneath her as she stumbled across the water. Heal, she had to heal the child. She had to…

A heavy hand grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her to a halt.

“No Prophetess.” Gardinal spoke, a deeply morose tone to his voice. “That’s… That’s what he wants.”

Celeste’s heart beat ragged in her chest, her eyes danced around the cistern. To Vallerian, who stood with his bow raised, but no arrow within it. To Kriss, who stared down at the child, pain written in his every feature. To Gardinal, who looked back at her with sorrow. To the girl, blood draining out of her, twisting into the water. The child’s light flickered out.

“WHY?” Celeste screamed. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS.” She howled in pain. She shot her gaze to the Summoner, and only then noticed the arrow jutting from his chest. The broken man laughed.

“For my daughter.” He whispered, falling to his knees. “Always for her.”

“You failed.” Vallerian growled, stepping up beside them. “You will die a failure.”

The Summoner cackled. “Do you really think I would have given you any opportunity to stop me?”

The room grew deathly silent.

“You are all dead.” He laughed one last time, lifting his dagger to his own throat. “Death to Terminia.” He whispered, piercing his throat.

For a moment, there was silence. A pained silence, of suffering, of loss. Of failure. Celeste watched as the man slumped over, another casualty of war that never truly ended. Eyes flicking to the girl, the one she had failed, Celeste’s chest tightened. The girl’s life had been so short, cut so abruptly. Her hands trembled at the sight, and hot tears stung her eyes.

A cold abyss engulfed Celeste, smothering her sorrow. A deep, twisting darkness that threatened to smother her, clawed away at her soul. The very air permeated with it, as though every inch of shadow in the room twisted. She began to search around frantically, and saw little pin pricks of light, flickering away, and suddenly going out.

“No…” She whispered, realizing what was happening. “NO!” She screamed, as no fewer than a dozen lights ended their own lives.

“Surround her.” Gardinal barked, letting her go and placing himself firmly between her and the Summoner’s body. “Surround her now!” Gardinal yelled. Vallerian and Kriss fell into position.

Celest felt it before she could see them. The twisted presence of Chaos entering the cistern in bodily form. It was a fetid stench, the pain of broken bone, the taste of rotted flesh. It was everything awful, and destructive that the world could produce.

Then she saw them. Twisted abominations stumbling out of the shadows. Like fleshless hounds, with eyes across their bodies and malformed limbs. Some had multiple heads, others had none, just a toothy maw attached to their torso. Celeste fell to her knees and gave up sick.

“What… what in the Pantheon’s Light are those things?” Vallerian gasped, readying an arrow.

“Daemons.” Gardinal responded in a low whisper.

Celeste felt it all pressing in on her, the darkness pushing down on her very essence, threatening to consume her if she gave even an inch.

Then she felt it. The malformed Chaos reaching through in its most twisted form, grabbing hold of reality and pulling itself through. Celeste stared in abject horror as the corpses of the Summoner and the child began to twitch.

Both of the corpses cracked open, twisted muscle fibers rising out of them and meeting one another. They formed, slowly, wrapping around one another into a skinless monstrosity. Two legs formed, bones jutting out of it in strange directions. A torso, with two hearts pulsing in its chest and stomach. Veins fell from it like vines from a tree, and blood seeped from its form, catching alight when it hit the water.

Then a head took shape. A twisted malformed monstrosity, with three eyes, no nose, a wolf like snout, and a golden braid. The monster looked to Celeste and snarled hungrily.

Celeste screamed.