Shenian looked at the corpses around the mill with utter shock on her face. Then one of the bodies stirred slightly.

"Dad!" she cried out and ran toward him.

Falyar sighed and Hewin gave him water. Falyar took a big sip and then he smiled faintly: "Oh, my daughter. So happy to see you."

Shenian's eyes watered: "What do I do Dad? Tell me and I will fix you."

Falyar's head slumped a bit and Hewin touched the grass beneath his wounded leg.

"He lost a lot of blood," he said, then looked more closely at the blackish veins swirling around the cut: "These are definitely spreading out, we need to hurry Shen."

Falyar whispered: "Just..cut it with Lynxbright..cut..it...with," he trailed off.

Shenian started crying, looking desperately at Hewin.

Hewin pointed at his shoulder: "I can't do it with one hand. Shenian, you will save him. It will be ok." He looked into her eyes and handed her the shiny sword.

She took it, her hands trembling.

"Here, cut it here," Hewin made an imaginary line just under Falyar's knee. "Your dad told me the sword will help. Shen, I think it is true, I saw it burst alight during the fight."

Shenian positioned herself and started to breathe out loud, her hands still shaking. She looked at the blade as if pleading. And then, Lynxbright became radiant and covered Shenian with warm light. Her eyes widened at that but her breath steadied. With a shout, she swung down with the sword, then once more.

Falyar buried his claws to the ground and cried out in pain. His left leg was now a stump ending at the knee.

Hewin gasped. The cut was smoking as if seared by hot iron and a gold crust began to cover it. He gave Falyar the waterskin again. Falyar wiped his whiskers and with relief, he spread out his arms and Shenian hugged him. They both cried and sobbed.

Hewin was looking at them, wondering whether these were tears of joy or sadness. No, these are tears of love for your family, they contain sadness and joy both, Hewin thought feeling the void in his heart cut out by Flesha's murders. Remember, that thing probably wasn't Flesha anymore. He was just a host to some monstrosity. As were probably these people, he looked around. Without Falyar, I would be dead. I owe him everything. And, so far, it cost him his leg, almost his life. That is my fault, they are clearly after me. My mom and dad, they are my fault too. Oh no, how can I ever make this right? Maybe it would be better for everyone if they got me, Hewin despaired. But then something disturbed his chain of thought. He felt a tug in the cut on his hand, the cut he did himself by the Voidsword. He had it bandaged by a piece of cloth Shenian gave him. Something was trying to get out from beneath the cloth. It started to hurt.

Hewin clumsily unwrapped the bandage and a cloud of shadow rose up from the cut. It was like a black thick impenetrable smoke, becoming bigger and denser with every second.

Hewin yelped in panic. Flayar released Shenian from his embrace. They looked horrified.

The smoke then descended slowly towards Falyar's stump.

"No, no, no," Falyar tried to back away.

But there was no stopping it. The pitch-black cloud attached itself to the stump and the smoke transformed into hundreds, then thousands of threads interweaving with each other.

The three of them froze in shock. The threads solidified in the shape of a leg. It didn't look like a normal Lynxarian leg. It was completely black, the myriads of threads somehow copying the proper muscles but there was no skin! It looked unnerving.

Then Falyar slowly stood and hesitantly made a step forward, then back. Shenian looked dumbfounded and extremely curious at the same time. Finally, Falyar spoke: "Hewin, boy, I think we need to talk."