– Elder Zeale –

The caves were silent in the aftermath of Varia and Broms dive into them. The smell of moss and stone was gone, replaced with the overpowering scent of rotted flesh and blood. The dark elves fled, leaving behind only corpses and scraps of clothing.

Zeale knew Varia was a terrible danger, as was Maddox. But this one could not control the demonic impulses as Viansolas golden child could. The light of her guard revealed a scene she never thought would fall upon the elves, whether they be cave dwellers or forest dwellers. Black streaks darkened grey stone, spreading along the floor and up the walls and ceiling. Dark elves remained trapped in the large cage made of bone, and the latch keeping them contained was gnarled and twisted, holding it firmly in place despite the attempts to open it. Most were dead, their small and frail bodies cast aside, curled into dark corners and left to rot. Few lived, but they were feral. They scratched the walls, screeching and reaching for the warm flesh of her and her guards.

A lump of flesh still sat among a wreckage of ribs and spine, blood seeping from the meat that remained. A hand, severed from the rest of the pile, was nearby. Its fingers frozen in a clawed position, a white ring glistening against the light of their torches. The news of Ailmars demise was startling, and that is why she came. He was a terrible tempered man, cocky and dismissive, but he was royalty. He was trapped in there, with his own sickened people.

“He cannot control the Other. During the ceremony, we will purge the world of them both.” She spoke, her voice a chime of bells, heavy with the loss of her cousins.

– Brom –

“The Elder Heart.” Varia declared to Viansola, stepping beyond Broms side and holding the box before him. “The shadow sickness took the dark elves, blighted by a demon named Sokanoth. Ailmar trapped the demon and infected his own people. He is dead.”

Not the entire truth, but truth enough.

Brom thought he’d be relieved to see the wood elves, and in a way he was. Their return meant that the mission was completed and he could get a good night’s sleep without having to worry about someone or something trying to kill him. Yet, the return of the wood elves meant the return of secrets too close to home, and more worry for Varia than he liked. There was a purification coming soon, in less than a weeks’ time, and after that they would be back in the world.

Brom did not know what to expect after they left the elves. The smart play would be to find their allies or to make more. That would likely mean a trip to Nihal or to one of the lesser known places Maddox cultivated friends. Most assuredly it meant weeks of travel, looking over his shoulder, and trying not to notice the growing attraction and feelings between his brother and Varia.

The hot bath and comfort of sleeping half buried in Varia’s back was a thing of the past. Brom would have liked the peaceful night to continue, but all too soon they were navigating the dense woods back to E’letaesi. He missed those days, even before the explosion, even before Varia turned his back on Arcturus. Before, when Maddox was his enemy, and when he was Varia’s only companion.

Despite this, Brom was on edge until Maddox came into view. When he did, he felt his shoulders relax a fraction. He was surprised at how glad he was to give care of Varia back to him. Having to watch Varia when it was his own demons was one thing, having to watch for him when there was another power at play was much different.

The elves welcomed them with less warmth in their gazes than Maddox, but that was expected. He expected them to be less than thrilled to have Varia back. He was only slightly surprised when Sabre turned his nose to Varia, golden gaze marred with disgust. It was less anger than he normally regarded Varia with. He was likely glad Varia came back as he did. If Varia hadn’t, it would have boded ill for any future plans. Varia not returning would mean Dor’Goth took over and whatever hope they had of killing Varia was gone.

He was surprised that Zeale was not there to greet them, only Viansola. She was there at Maddox’s side with her forever smile, which only grew as she spied the box in Varia’s outstretched hands. She took it almost reverently, opening it to confirm the contents. She looked relieved, and sad. Perhaps when the tree had elven form it was someone known to Viansola, the way she cradled it.

“It was suspected that one of the Deep Dwellers had betrayed their own. To think it was Ailmar… let us hope that this was but a failed experiment on his part, and that the rest of the horde is well. It is foul business to sell out your own kin.” Viansola spoke, with no small amount of venom in her tone.

Brom took her to be a kindly mother type, but for a moment he could see in her something fiercer. He wondered if she might have been a warrior at one time.

She stepped close and lay a gentle hand against Varia’s cheek. “Thank you, Varia. You did well to return safely and to bring this young one back to us. I will repay this kindness.” She said with a smile, then taking her hand away. Her attention turned to Brom instead. “Come with me. I have a task for you.” she turned to Sabre after. “And you.”

Brom hesitated for a brief moment, his eyes moving to Maddox. His brothers’ gaze remained on Varia, who was looking less than please at what he likely took as fanfare. While he desired to relinquish care of Varia, he did not approve of the coupling. He did not like the look in his brothers’ eyes when he looked upon Varia. He relented, finally, and followed a petulant Sabre and a graceful Viansola deeper into E’letaesi.

“You’ve returned whole. I cannot say I expected that.” Sabre’s voice drew him from his wishful fantasies of a bed. “How bad was it? How long did it last?”

He wanted to know what to expect. Brom knew the Nihalian was clever. Sabre knew it would not be easy. His possession was subject to continuous change. He considered his response, not wanting to tell Sabre anything that would harm Varia, but not wanting to leave him ignorant to the danger.

“It was short. Four minutes at most, shorter than his normal fits. There was no killing intent. The demon was not… wholly there. It could have been a lot worse.” Brom said honestly.

Varia tried to kill him, but he had not thrown everything he had at Brom. If he did, Brom would not be there now. Varia was not focused on killing Brom, his attacks were more akin to a natural response to stimuli. The battle inside of Varia’s mind was likely much worse. He did not fight Varia in the caves, nor did he fight the demon.

“Good. That means the demon is still weakened. Such a period should have been more than sufficient to subdue a consciousness if he had a mind to.” Viansola responded, drawing the willow curtains to the side. “In here.”

Brom felt the magic the moment they passed the entrance and was immediately on edge. “No need for fear. It is just a silencing spell so that we are not overheard.” She assured him with humor in her tone. It did nothing to silence his nerves.

The home spelled of patchouli and juniper. The home was two levels, the trunk spiraling upwards, surrounded by intricately carved spiral staircase. Sachets of drying herbs hung from the carved branches of the tree. A light haze hung in the air from herbs and resins that burned in the central fireplace, cleansing the air. Long strands of dense moss creeped in from the opened ceiling, dangling from the odd branches. Lichen lined the shelves carved into the tree, blooming from between old scrolls and small jars filled with arrays of colors. A low table, carved from the tree itself, came up near the fire, woven cushions on either side. A mortar and pestle sat on the table, a thick book, quill and ink.

Viansola strode to the opposite end of the room, brushing her fingers against blooms of pale blue flowers. “There will be an attempt to purify Varia in a few days and it may require your help. I’ve heard that you two are quick studies and we do not have much time. I have a limited time to teach you both things you may need, and not just for the purification, but in the days to come.”

Viansola placed the box with the Elder heart on the self, stroking the top of it gently before pulling three books and stepping to the table. She lowered herself to sit cross-legged upon one of the cushions. She did not seem offended when Brom and Sabre remained standing, instead spreading the books out before her.

“What will you be teaching us?” Brom asked, eyeing the title-less books. Viansola looked up to him and Sabre then, and again Brom got the impression that once, perhaps long ago, she was someone to fear.

“How to kill the people you love.”

Brom felt a chill at her words. Would he be expected to kill Varia? His eyes lifted to hers, and he knew the answer. If he needed to. They could not rely solely on Maddox any longer.

“I hold no lover for the little demon. Perhaps I am not the right person for this task.” Sabre spoke first, though his voice held no venom. He did not turn to leave, though, and Brom knew that he would not leave either.

Brom considered how Sabre thought. He did not hold love for Varia, but he did for Maddox. Their fates were intertwined now, despite how hard he and Brom both attempted to resist. Even now, Maddox likely wouldn’t fare well against Varia, and if the demon won they would be lost. Keeping Varia alive and in his own mind was in his best interest. And Sabre thought so as well. Viansola smiled at his words, but she did not speak. Sabre continued instead.

“If the demon sleeps, will he wake during the ritual? Surely he will sense it and try and defend himself. We don’t know much of him, just that he is old and powerful.” Sabre finally sat across from Viansola, reaching a hand to trace a finger down the spine of one of the books. “Perhaps we can return to killing people once this is over.”

Brom thought of that, briefly. He considered before that Dor’Goth was one of the ancients, one of the demon Gods that brought mankind to heel long ago. This was before humans developed powers of their own, before they found and harnessed magics. Demons were responsible for their own fall, breeding with humans and forcing them to carry their spawn. That is where people like Varia came from. Ancient blood lines, with the faintest trace of demon blood still coursing through them. He imagined how powerful Varia may have been if he were born during the time demon Gods sat upon their throne of corpses. If his blood had more power in it.

The thought was frightening. Viansolas eyes met his, and he lowered them from her gaze. He felt that she could hear his thoughts, and disapproved of that fear he felt.

Viansola laughed at Sabres words, a light and airy sound full of mirth. “I should think you have been at his side long enough to know that while one may have a demon in body, the other gives him a run in spirit.”

Brom finally sat, and Viansola smiled at him. But it felt fake, forced. Her eyes did not crinkle the way they so often did, and Brom wondered why. She regarded Sabre much more warmly. “We know more than you think, though it is never enough. Demons are all similar, and yet each is unique enough to require their own entry.” She turned the pages of one of the books, stopping on one that held a familiar image to Brom.

“That’s the one that encountered us in the elven cave.” Brom said, notes of suprise and apprehension in his voice. Were they watched? He expected it when they left, but there was no trace of them being followed when they completed their task.

“Yes, he is known to us. It has been quite a while since he has shown himself. I suspect Dor’Goth is much different. It is unlikely something of his caliber has never come to the surface, though it may have been some time. In any case, we can expect him to react to the ritual, even try to stop it. Purification are intended to kill the demon.” She stopped turning pages at another image, one scrubbed with charcoal, blackening the pages, dripping from it. It even looked like Dor’Goth.

“If this demon is as I suspect, and if Zeale is as close hearted as I fear, more than a purification, this will be a binding.”

Brom scowled. “Hold on. If I recall, bindings are not reversible, especially to organic objects.” Viansola raised a brow, a brief flash of surprise flashing across her features.

“He teaches you some things then. Yes, this is true, so-”

“So that would mean Varia would be stuck with that thing forever.” Brom didn’t like how this was going, and he suspected that Varia knew nothing of this prospect. Brom wondered if Maddox knew, and felt anger rising in his gut. Varia was lied to, again.

“What purpose would that serve? Has this not been your plan from the start?” Brom accused, to which Viansola rolled her eyes.

“We did not put that demon in the cave nor did we steer you into it. You seem to be under the impression that possession is like a wound you can stitch or else amputate and be done with it. Possession is a chronic illness. If you are not able to catch it early and cure it, then you are stuck. If Dor’Goth has taken too much a hold, or Varia too weak and Dor’Goth too powerful, then the only way to save him without killing him and releasing the demon is to make Varia his prison.”

Broms eyes fell back to the page ruined by blackness. Even the paper had a sense of malice to it, leaving him with a familiar, ominous feeling of dread. The darkness on the page seemed to swirl, a deep rumble filling his mind. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and a gaping maw spread along the paper and drew him deeper into it.

“You mean to say that we’re going to be giving Varia access to this demons power rather than kill it?” Sabre, thankfully, snapped Broms attention away from the darkness. He turned his attention to Sabre, noting the anger that he now spoke with.

“This… thing already has access to Varia’s power. I would imagine with practice Varia would have access to his. Maddox already has plans to empower the little shit more than he already is. We should not do this.”

Brom understood the apprehension. Sabre was not a warrior, he was a politician. He did not understand, nor wish to understand magic. Brom agreed. It was dark and horrifying. He did not know how far someone could push magics they did not understand. He did not know how powerful someone could become. Magic was widely unknown, and had a deep well of attributes attached to it.

Varia and Maddox were something else entirely. They were not restrained by tomes and words. They were powerful, dangerous, but they were using their own being to attack. Mages didn’t, so long as they had resources they could continue an attack indefinitely. Men like Varia and Maddox were still men. They could grow tired.

But as a demon… how could they expect to fight that? Varia was not someone that many would willingly engage with. Maddox was the only one who ever faced Varia without fear, and that was due to years of fighting him, and knowing Varia as well as he knew himself.

Viansola closed the book, a smile on her lips once again. “Accessing a demons power is no easy feat and largely impossible. Much of their abilities are tied to the essence and cannot be used by humans in that way. He may buff his own powers, perhaps have enhanced senses, but he won’t be able to phase through walls or summon legions the way Dor’Goth can.” Viansola assured the other.

“All I need you to do is memorize these spells and be committed to containing Dor’Goth, to weakening him. Nothing else.” She became more thoughtful, and her eyes took on a look that suggested she knew one thing but would say another. “The Graves will weaken him as much as they can, yes. So long as we are in the open, I suspect Maddox will be fine. It would be better for all if Dor’Goth did not fully awaken. Even if we are able to defeat him, we may lose more than we gain. If you do not want a demon on the loose, then I expect you to commit yourselves to these studies.”

Her tone did not leave room for arguing, and though Brom had many protests, he would save them for now. Viansola opened a second book, and began to recite the instructions.

– Varia –

Maddox remained behind when Viansola stole Sabre and Brom away. He motioned Varia to follow him, to a new hut they were given. It was closer to the village than the last one. Varia wondered if they knew that Dor’Goth took him when he was gone. If they knew, would they allow him to be so close?

Once inside, Maddox took his injured arm in hand, feeling it over gingerly. “With how hard this went to work, I confess to being shocked to see you back. I didn’t doubt it, but still seeing the reality is something different.” Maddox looked into his eyes, his hand lifting to brush fingers against his cheeks. “Thank you… for coming back. I know it was not an easy choice.”

When Varia did not respond, he stepped back, gesturing towards his sword. “Tonight is the first of the full moon. We will purify and re-sheath Cithrel at the moons summit. You should come see, to see what a purification and binding look like so you know what to expect. I don’t want you to be blindsided and fight the ritual when you do not have to.”

Varia finally turned from Maddox, pulling his arm away from him and inspecting the new hut. It was largely the same, a single bed, a small table, two chairs and a single bookshelf. He felt his powers were more subdued there than the other hut, though he had no control over them in the Graves at all.

“I will be there.” He muttered, running a hand over his face. He leaned against the small shelf, his back turned to Maddox.

He was right, it was not an easy choice to return. He didn’t know why he did. He could blame it on the demon inside of him, blame it on having nowhere else to go, blame it on his promises to Maddox, but he wasn’t convinced of his own excuses.

Perhaps the other reason, the one he refused to say, that’s why his decision was so simple. But what happened in the caves shook him. He bore witness to many betrayals in his life, but Ailmar herding those people into those cages was unsettling. More than that, though, the thoughts and desire he felt when he was there.

The power. It was not something he was used to. He never wanted power, never wanted to rule. Arcturus took any notion of grander from him long ago.

“I should have known what was happening the moment we stepped into that place. I could… feel everything. I knew where the elves were without seeing. I could feel them moving, breathing. I could feel their fear.” Varia whispered, nearly to himself. His eyes drifted to the bandages on his arm, and he slowly pulled them off.

Where the cloth lay now was a deep gouge, burned into his wrist. Red and angry still, reminding him of how he felt then. “When he took over, I was home. It felt so real… I could feel the cold, the ice in my lungs and the stone under my hands. I didn’t want to return, even once I realized what was happening.” Varia grew quiet. How could he say that he enjoyed the power he felt? That he enjoyed the fear he felt?

“What if I’m not strong enough to fight him? What if the ritual kills me? What becomes of you and your quest? I am not what you need, not like this.” Self-loathing was not a personality trait that Varia often expressed, or had. The feeling of uselessness was a terrifying one, and if he could not be what was needed, then what would become of him?

He felt Maddox step behind him, felt his arms slowly wrap around his back. Maddox pressed his face against the top of Varia’s head, drawing a deep breath. “It is not the loss of my quest that is at stake if you should fail.” He said softly.

“I told you I will not let you fail. As it concerns my quest, that is the natural course of action. But that is not the promise you made to me, nor the one I will hold you to. You will defeat it, if for no other reason than you hate to be controlled, to admit defeat. You are not allowed to give in to its lies, to find solace in its illusions. If it is your desire to be of use to me, to return to the embrace of the ice, then you will not fall for such parlor tricks.” Maddox turned Varia in his arms, crouching to see eye to eye.

“You promised to protect me. I’ve never taken you for a liar.”

Varia felt that now familiar surge of affection bloom in his chest. It was always brief, but he recognized it now. He lifted his hands, resting them on Maddox’s shoulders. He was briefly annoyed at the crouch, but it left once he allowed Maddox’s words to melt into him.

“I don’t think you need any protection, but if you insist on holding me to my word, then you will pay a price.”

The humor he felt for the briefest of moments faded, and he considered Maddox. He did not lie to Brom. It was not thoughts of Maddox that snapped him from Dor’Goths illusion. Brom called to him, and Varia heard, but Maddox was on his mind. He thought that he could stay there forever and be completely alone pushed him to the present. He never was concerned about it before. He was always alone. Brom was a steadfast presence at his side, as were some of his men, but he never felt they would stay. No one stayed, everyone left, or died.

But not Maddox. He was always there, for so long he was there. He would stay forever if Varia allowed it. And he considered it more often than not.

Varia felt his gaze soften, and he gently brushed his lips against Maddox’s. “Hold me to my word. Do not let Dor’Goth take me. Do not let me fail, and I will do what you ask of me.” It was not a promise he could keep, and Maddox knew that. But he saw Maddox’s gaze soften as well, that mask he wore cracking as it so often did these past few days.

He would do what was asked of him. As long as their paths were the same, as long as they both needed to see the fall of Arcturus, he would stay.

Maddox’s hands pulled Varia back to himself, pressing lips against his again. “You will. Until the end, or until you tell me you wish to fall to my sword.” Maddox pressed their lips together once again, then pulled away reluctantly.

“Come. There is a small feast before the purification.”

Varia followed Maddox from their hut and into the trees. A hum filled the air, high and sweet. He caught glimpses of the Walkers among them, walking as they did through the trees and away from the village.

“No matter what happens, don’t leave this area, or step into the forest until everything is over.” Maddox warned, his hand closing around Varia’s and leading him further into the darkening forest.

The clearing was well lit, Walkers moving through it with small balls of light. They lay them on sticks and they stay there, though Varia thought that the lights appeared alive. Others were laying blue paint in the grass, chanting in their haunting tones.

Maddox led them to a small table where the Walkers were laying out food. Their blind eyes turned towards the pair as they approached. “You have brought the Shadow Walker?” One asked, more curious than cautious.

“He should see and understand.” Maddox replied to her. A few of the Walkers nodded and agreed. “He must eat of the fruits.” The woman gestured to the small feast laid out.

There was no meat, but the smell that wafted from the prepared dishes of vegetables and fruit was just as tantalizing. Maddox sat and pulled Varia to sit with him on a blanket of woven leaves.

“The food is to give you strength.” Maddox explained, taking a large leaf laden with food. Varia was given one as well, and he noted with curiosity that his had more than Maddox’s.

Varia scrunched his nose, prodding at the fruits with a finger. “Eating this will help in destroying Dor’Goth?” he asked.

Maddox hummed, peeling a fruit and biting into it. The juice slid down his chin and was chased by his tongue. “Not so much destroy… Demons are like parasites. When they find a host, they grow. Food like this make the body less hospitable to demons, loosening their hold on the physical as well as the mental body. It can sometimes make the difference in a ritual.” He explained.

Varia gazed down at the food, choosing a pointed yellow fruit with blue leaves and veins. He turned it over in his hand, before taking a bite. It tasted of citrus with that same earthy aftertaste everything here had. It was pleasant enough, and he continued it. “Will there be danger? To sheath a sword?" He asked.

Beyond them the Walkers bustled about, preparing for the ritual. Between the trees surrounding the clearing were trinkets hanging from the branches. They practically burst with power and emitted a soft blue glow. The trees bowed inwards, encasing them within. Varia titled his head back, searching for the stars that could normally be seen between the branches, but the Graves hid them from sight. Despite a growing unease in the back of his mind, Varia felt calm.

“Yes, there will be danger.” Maddox wiped his hands on his pants and turned as a small group of Walkers approached, holding a woven blanket of leaves and softened bark. Maddox took the cloth and wrapped it over Cithrel.

Cithrel responded with a loud, keening vibrate. All of the Walkers paused their work and looked in their direction. After a beat, they began moving again, but with a little more urgency.

“I will be in danger.” Maddox continued, stroking the sword gently, then turning to take another fruit. “The situation with Cithrel was not too different from yours. A demon, weaker, but not unlike the one in you took him. Ordinarily, if a purification cannot be done, there is a binding. You should know… there is a slim success rate for purification. Usually they need to be done very soon after the entity takes hold. If this demon is able to pull your consciousness, he may have too much of a hold… but we shall see.” Maddox paused again, pushing the food around his plate. “In bindings, the demon is bound to the person they have infected. The person becomes their prison and has to commit to a rigorous lifestyle. Meals of purification and rites of submission for years… but over time they can tame the demon, eventually purifying it.”

Varia was poking at his food, rolling a carrot around the leaf plate before Maddox spoke. But what he said, what he implied pulled him from the lull he was experiencing and forced him back to reality and forced him to face the gravity of his situation. He dropped his fruit back onto his plate, his hands lifting to rub over his face.

“Varia. I brought you here for two reasons. One, so that you know who...what it is you are aligning yourself with, and so that you can see and feel firsthand what will likely be the solution for you. Viansola is concerned and thinks this the best course of action.” Maddox said, turning towards him. The Walkers began to sing around them, a haunting, sad melody that seemed to be taken up by the trees as well. Maddox rose to his feet and held out his hand to Varia. “There is no small amount of trust I am asking of you in this and going forward. I will not let him take you. If you can believe my words, then take my hand.”

He should have known. He should have known there was another possibility. He wasn’t strong enough for this, he couldn’t do it. He had been taken by Dor’Goth already once, and the damn thing was still sleeping. Expecting him to continue this fight, an even harder fight, for however long was asking too much. He didn’t want it. He expected either to die trying to kill Dor’Goth, or to kill him.

He lied.

Perhaps this was the plan. It wasn’t like Varia would know if this was his only choice. He wouldn't know if a purification would work or not, he totally relied on Maddox. Maddox, the man who intended to turn him loose on Arcturus. Maddox, the man who wanted his army, wanted his loyalty, wanted everything Varia could give. Perhaps what Varia could give wasn’t enough for him, perhaps he truly desired Dor’Goth. Perhaps it wasn’t a binding in the sense Maddox spoke of. Perhaps they would give Dor’Goth control. It may or may not be possible, but Varia wouldn't know.

Varia couldn’t take his hand. He couldn’t trust Maddox, and Maddox should know that. But Varia had no other option but to stay with Maddox, to go with him into the dark, to stand by him. But he could never trust him. Varia rose to his feet, ignoring the hand offered to him, the harsh gaze that had been focused on Maddox finally breaking, instead looking around the clearing. Whatever was coming, it was time. “Let’s get on with it.”

This could be the end, the beginning, or just an interlude, he did not know. Maddox was asking Varia to step into the dark, into the unknown with him, and Varia stepped passed him to move forward alone.