“How is Ffion?” Alex asked Drestra.

“Mmf,” came the Sage’s muffled reply.

She was turned away and held up her index finger—indicating that she needed a moment—as she chewed a morsel of food.

“Take your time.” Alex reached for another serving.

The late morning light found Alex and his companions in their tree-cottage, devouring a breakfast of mushroom soup, pickled birds’ eggs, and fish roasted in garlic butter, while Brutus darted around the table, begging for food. The young Thameish wizard smiled at the cerberus, understanding his enthusiasm.

‘Hunger and being thankful for being alive really are the best seasonings,’ Alex thought, still bleary-eyed and tired from yesterday. He felt like his entire body had been beaten by Claygon’s mammoth fists.

The golem was standing near the cottage door. Beside him, propped against the wall, was the demon’s former war-spear. He admired it with a conflicted smile on his face.

‘You deserve your prize big guy, you’re the one who was hurt the most,’ he thought, eyeing the cracks throughout Claygon’s body. He was itching to get back to Generasi to repair him.

“Ffion’s recovering well,” Drestra finally said, the relief plain in her voice. “Most of the survivors are: the majority didn’t really have major wounds or infections, thankfully. They were all dehydrated, some had broken bones and cuts, but between my peoples’ healing magics, the blood magic you used this morning to help them, and Cedric’s miracles, most injuries are healed, but some will need time. My thanks to both of you.”

“Well, I’d be a pretty shit Chosen if I didn't help,” Cedric said, ready to shove a thick piece of fish in his mouth.

“And I’d just be a pretty shit wizard,” Alex said. “Even if it was just a few extra castings of mana to life, I’d be kind of an ass if I didn’t at least try to help.”

“And we’re all grateful,” Drestra said. Alex could hear the smile in her voice. “Mother said that she won’t forget what any of you—” Her reptilian eyes slid over the group. “—have done for us. But…for many of the victims, the mental scars will take longer to heal. They’ve seen things that are hard to imagine.”

“A demon camp’s no place I’d want to be long term,” Hart said. “Say, did your mother say anything about getting those supplies? There were a lot of them lying around that camp.”

“Yes. She sent guards there late yesterday to keep an eye on things and start organising the supplies to bring them back here,” she said. “And you’re right, the cult was very well stocked. We should have enough food to feed all the folk we rescued well into the spring. After that, though…I don’t know…they’ve lost a lot of people. There’s been some talk that they might stay here for the next year at least.”

“Well, I hope they can get back out there with time. It’s always rough to lose a way of life,” Alex said. “Even if you have another one waiting.”

“Mhm.” Drestra nodded. “But onto a lighter topic: do you know when Baelin’s supposed to be back?”

“Today, sometime,” Alex said. “And when he gets here, we’ll be able to meet with your friend and—” He tapped the dungeon core. “—get this taken care of.”

“Aye, that’s something that’s got me real curious.” Cedric chomped on a big mushroom cap. “Then I suppose it’s time fer some feastin’ this evenin’ then we’ll be headin’ back ta yer camp, right?”

“Yeah,” Alex said. “Hopefully he gets here soon, I wanna talk to him about what that demon said.”

“Ya mean about makin’ us her eternal enemy an’ such?”

“Yeah. It’s something we need to figure out. Demons can’t exactly come to the material world whenever they want, and she doesn’t know our names,” Alex said. “But sooner or later, she’s gonna come for us.”

“Aye, this big, glowin’ thing on me chest’s a bit of a clue ta’ who I am, though,” Cedric said. “So I’d appreciate knowin’ if she’s gonna come leapin’ outta some rain barrel at me someday. Swear, I could do wit’ less surprises in li—”

“Well, hello there,” Baelin said.

“Ah holy shite!” Cedric jumped, spilling food on his chest.

Alex sprayed his soup.

Brutus yelped and jumped back.

Drestra screamed.

Theresa choked on a piece of fish, and Alex had to pound her back.

Hart…didn’t stop eating.

The chancellor raised an eyebrow. “Well! Good morning to you too! Quite the reaction from such brave young people to an old goatman. Are my horns crooked? Do I have five eyes this morning? Did a demon lord just manifest in your parlour? Careful, if I were less secure in myself, my feelings might be wounded.”

“Baelin, you scared the hell out of us!” Alex cried. He was so tired, he hadn’t even noticed the teleportation magic.

“Aye, I nearly cacked m’trousers!” Cedric looked at soggy chunks of fish running down his Mark.

“Well, I am most certainly glad you did not!” Baelin said. “In such an enclosed space, that would have been most unpleasant.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been your fault though,” Alex grunted. “How’re you doing, by the way?”

“Most excellent,” Baelin said. “I’ve put some affairs in order and so I—Oh my, Claygon!”

The chancellor stopped mid-sentence, his goat-like eyes scanning the golem’s body.

“What happened to you?” Baelin said. “It looks as though—” He paused again, his eyes taking in the enormous war-spear against the wall. “What in blazes is that!? What happened?”

“You missed one hell of a party,” Hart said.

“Party?” Cedric gave the Champion a withering look. “A party y’call it? Bloody bastard, that’s easy for you t’say. All y’had t’do was smash up a half-deserted camp. We were the ones havin’ our shite stomped in by the bloody biggest bloody demon that ever stomped outta the hells.”

Baelin raised an eyebrow and looked at Alex.

“Well, not the biggest ever to spawn in the hells,” the young Thameish wizard said. “But she was pretty big.”

“Pretty big, Alex?” Theresa looked at him. “I’ve met smaller trees. And she hit like a battering ram. It felt like she was going to rip me in half.”

Baelin cleared his throat. “I do believe that I am…er…missing a bit of context here.”

Alex sighed. “Well, we won and now there aren't enough demons left in Crymlyn Swamp to fill your boat—which made it out undamaged, by the way—but…oh, you better sit down. It’s a long story.”

“Goodness, you all have been busy!” Baelin cried, sipping a bit of broth as they caught him up. “And you defeated a greater demon! By yourselves! An incredible feat for ones of your age.”

“It was close. Too close,” Theresa said. “If she was taking us seriously, she’d have had our guts for breakfast.”

“Aye, don’t like to admit it, but Theresa’s got the right of it,” Cedric agreed. “Bloody demon nearly fried m’mind when she got desperate.”

“Indeed, you all are extremely fortunate that she had underestimated you. A greater demon is a creature to be feared and respected by most,” the chancellor stroked his beard-braids. “Unfortunately, I doubt that she would make the same mistake twice.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be a problem,” Hart admitted. “Ravener-spawn are bad enough, but waiting for this demon to jump us is going to be a pain and a half.”

“That’s an understatement,” Drestra said.

“Well, now, I would not worry about that too much.” Baelin said thoughtfully. “You said this demon’s name was Zonon-In?”

“Yeah,” Alex said.

“Fascinating. I do believe that I should summon this demon, then she and I can have a friendly chat. It might involve a little curse that would ensure some unpleasant, soul-rending consequences were she to return to this plane to do any of you any harm. Of course, I’m sure she will eventually find some way to remove it—or get around it in time—but such an undertaking will take time.”

“Oh…oh that’s grand.” Alex grinned wickedly. “But couldn’t you just destroy her in that case?”

“It is a dangerous thing to assume one could wipe out a greater demon sight unseen, though I likely could,” the chancellor reasoned. “But, come now! That would be destroying a learning opportunity for all of you!”

“Huh? Learning opportunity?” Drestra asked.

“Indeed, you angered a greater demon! And I sincerely doubt this will be the last time you will do so, considering the path of martial, magical and divine power you all pursue. If I use my greater experience to simply make the problem go away, then what will you have learned? What will you do next time? Better to simply delay her until you are ready to face her at your full strength rather than having me erase the threat completely and stifle your growth.”

“That’s bloody madness,” Cedric said.

“I dunno, makes sense to me.” Alex shrugged. “What do you think, Theresa?”

“I want another crack at her.”

“Then it is settled!” Baelin clapped his hands together. “Excellent work, by the way. And look at Claygon!” He raised a cup of water toward the golem. “You got the only prize out of this. And…what a prize it is. That is a very powerful weapon. From a quick look…I see traces of teleportation magic to call it back to hand, force magic to increase the strength of its impact and prevent its barbs from remaining in an opponent’s flesh, blood magic to increase bleeding, and necromantic magic to wither the life force of whatever it strikes. What a feast of power. The golems are eating better than the people.”

He paused as though expecting a laugh, but was only met with confused silence.

“Actually, I suppose it makes sense that you would not get that reference: a Generasian aristocrat once wrote an essay entitled, ‘The Golems Eat Better than the People’, predicting a future where magical constructs will assume all the labour in the world, taking away the livelihood of farmers, warriors and tradesfolk. In the essay, he painted a rather fanciful image of powerful archwizards serving their golems lavish feasts like they were mortals dining on elaborate meals in a rich setting. Of course, such food would be wasted on golems—since they have no need to eat—while the nobility of the world would be reduced to starvation and battling each other over scraps.”

“Uh…wouldn’t havin’ golems doin’ all the hard work be a bloody paradise?” Cedric asked.

“There are several schools of thought on that,” the chancellor said. “Some say it would lead to a paradise of leisure. Others say that having all needs met by constructs would wither the competitive spirit in mortals, leaving them to fester in indolence. I happen to believe that such a world would have mixed results. I know of many wizards who leave all forms of labour and chores to summoned and constructed servants, allowing them to spend their time in pursuit of knowledge, leisure and self-development.”

He chuckled, his eyes growing wistful. “Some take to it very well, using their free time to make great advancements in philosophy, science, self-actualization and wizardry. Others raise families or delve into the arts. Others become masters of hobbies or find new joys to explore. …but, indeed, there are some who collapse into forms of degeneracy so foul, it would be a disservice to all of you to speak of them.”

Baelin elbowed Alex with a twinkle in his eyes. “Now, don’t you go that route, Mr. Golem Maker!”

“I…okay,” the young wizard simply said.

“Now, then,” the ancient wizard looked at Drestra. “You said your friend has recovered?”

The Sage cleared her throat. “Yes…she’s fit enough and demanding food richer than broth.”

“Would she be well enough to receive…visitors?” He looked pointedly at the dungeon core in Alex’s bag.

“She should be,” the Sage said. “And I’m as eager to resolve this as you are.”

“Then let us go! But before we do, do you think she would mind a couple of extra guests with us?” he asked.

“Uh…what do you mean?” Drestra asked.

“Professor Jules and Carey requested that they be present when we do our testing,” Baelin said. “Might I bring them along?”

“Of course,” Drestra said. “I don’t think it should be a problem.”

“Most excellent. Then meet me outside, I shall return momentarily.”

With a surge of teleportation magic, Baelin vanished.

Alex and the others looked at each other.

“Well, this is it,” the young wizard said. “The moment of truth. Let’s get going.”

As one, they wolfed down the rest of their breakfast like it was their last meal, did a quick clean up and filed out of the cottage tense, but eager.

The village was quiet, calm and…had a feel of melancholy to it this morning.

“It’s appropriate,” Alex muttered.

“What is?” Theresa asked him softly.

“The atmosphere’s a bit happy and yet a bit sad,” he whispered. “We’re about to learn something huge; whether worshipers of our god or people of our homeland can control dungeon cores. Even if it’s exciting to finally find out…either answer is grim.”

“Yeah I’ve been thinking about it,” she said, as the group stopped at the foot of the tree their cottage was nestled in. “They’re both bad…but I think I know which one would be worse for me.”

“Which one?”

“...well, I don’t want to say yet, in case that’s the way it goes,” she whispered.

Alex was about to reply when he felt a rush of teleportation magic.

Baelin appeared, flanked by Professor Jules—with a bulging pack on her back as though she were about to start a long journey—and Carey, looking like she was two breaths from throwing up.

She gave a weak wave to the others. “Morning,” she said.

“Good morn—Oh goodness!” Professor Jules cried, catching sight of Claygon. “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Alex said. “We’ll fill you in on the way.”

“Indeed, Vernia,” Baelin said. “We can catch up as we make our way to Drestra’s young friend. Now, come. It is time.”

Alex took a deep breath. “Yeah…it’s time.”

His hand fell on the orb tucked safely in the satchel.

Together, the group walked toward Ffion’s cottage.

Together, they walked toward the truth.