After a few more dead ends, Orel and Slacume went down yet another cavern. This one slithered as if a giant worm had made it. The cave circled like a screw downwards. The walls were not carved, however, but as if melted away. They did not know how long they had been inside the cave, but it felt like hours.

“So, are there fairies too? Like in the legend?" Orel asked.

“Those are pretty rare. Supposedly they are the keepers of this forest, but they don't really show themselves to people. In the legend, they enchanted the forest as a reward for the great knight Bors for killing the black dragon.”

“And Mr. Lionel is that knight’s great-great grandson or something?” Orel asked.

“That's what he says.” Slacume shrugged. "They want you to believe in those myths, dragons and all."

“So, there are dragons?”

“Maybe there were, but not many besides Bàsdubh."

"Bash what?"

"Bàsdubh, the black dragon. Well, I've also heard of the red dragon who helped Albion to emerge victorious in during the invasion era. The big city churches go hard into that, telling the kings are the descendants of the dragon."

"Really?"

"I don't know. It's just a story. I haven't seen the queen breathing fire, but maybe she sits on a pile of gold after the end of the day." Slacume grinned.

The two descended deeper for what seemed like forever. As the tunnel straightened, it came to a sudden halt against a straight wall.

“Another dead end.” Slacume kicked some rocks.

“Wait, this doesn’t look right.” Orel touched the wall. “It’s like a solid slab."

“Is it blocking something?” Slacume's eyes dodged around, looking for clues.

“It won’t budge.” Orel slipped off after trying to push it.

“Does it have any markings on it?”

“There’s something on the walls.” Orel looked closely. “It’s a handprint.”

“There’s one on the other side.” Slacume noticed.

“Should we press them?” Orel asked.

“I guess.”

The two pressed their hands on the imprints, yet nothing happened. The marks were not buttons after all.

“Odd. Are we missing something?” Slacume looked around.

“Some lines are going off of them.” Orel noticed as he glanced at his hand.

“Of course, it’s activated with magic,” Slacume said.

“Do we try again?”

“I don't have my pendant with me. There's no way I can open that."

"You don't know if you don't try first." Orel insisted.

"But it's useless. I can't even cast a cantrip without it."

"It doesn't hurt to try." Orel pressed the point."

"Fine, I'll show you how useless I am."

The two pressed the marks and poured magic through their palms. The thin serpentine lines glowed with a blue hue as magic coursed through them. With sweating concentration, Orel managed to fill his lines, yet Slacume was still lacking that his lines would reach the stone. It seemed that every second he clung on, the progress dropped further and further back to where it started.

“I knew it. I’m too weak.” Slacume squinted his eyes.

“Keep going.” Orel insisted.

“It’s useless.“ Slacume shook his head.

“You have to try. I can’t do this for much longer.” Orel said with sweat pouring down his face.

"I told you, I can't do it!" Slacume yelled.

"Who decided that?" Orel snapped back.

Slacume opened his eyes and saw Orel’s hardened face and the flame of passion lighting up his steel-cold grey eyes. The indomitable human spirit he emanated was mesmerizing. With just a brief glance at it, it lit up the burning cinders in Slacume's heart like passing a torch to another.

“Screw it! Let's go!” Slacume cried out.

the lines filled as both used all their strength until their muscles ached and their faces twisted with pain. Even for Orel, it was harder than any training he had gone through. He had to keep using everything he had watching Slacume's side slowly make its way to the end. For how hard it was, Orel could only cheer as he saw them reach the end.

The two let go as the slab rolled to the side. Yet, before they could celebrate, it began closing in again. Orel took Slacume's arm and ran inside. Tumbling in their steps, the two looked back as the stone slab returned to its place, sealing them in.

“I did it.” Slacume realized. “We did it!” He rejoiced with all the strength he could muster.

Orel couldn’t help but smile with him, but what lay ahead concerned him more. Someone was not too far from them in the dark cavern. As they walked forward, Orel saw a familiar figure.

It was Isao, standing tall and wary, weapon drawn. Both Orel and Slacume knew to stop and watch ahead.

Orel looked past him and saw something disturbing near the ground, scuttling towards them from the shadows. A creature like a half-full pack of flour with freakishly long arms yet stumpy legs in comparison. It stared eyes wide like an animal down its long crooked nose and gnashed its yellow teeth together. Specs of colorless hairs sprouted from every part except the small head, waving around like the hairs themselves.

“Get out, outsiders! Go away!” The creature hissed. It spoke, with a tongue far too long and large for its mouth, spitting everywhere and hanging loose.

“You nasty pest,” Isao swung his blade.

“A boggart!” Slacume fell back in shock.

Isao slashed the creature. It jumped to the ceiling, hanging with its slender arms. Its long nails burrowed into the bedrock with ease. The round gleaming eyes gleamed like that of a cat. Orel felt the wound on his forehead from Barghest, yet its memory was nothing compared to the frightening presence of the humanoid before him.

“Stupid humans. Bad people. Traitors. Only mister understood.” The creature said.

“Mister?” Isao noticed.

“Mister gave me a name. Ama-dan.” Ama-dan smiled viciously.

“Oh no,” Slacume gasped.

“What?” Orel asked.

“Boggarts should never be named. It makes them stronger!”

“The deed is done. Too late. Ama-dan far stronger.” Ama-dan giggled and gurgled.

“Wait,” Orel looked around. "Where are the other boggarts?"

A grin wider than his face stretched on Ama-dan. His rotten teeth, chipped and yellow, showed as his thin lips tightened. They were not just yellow and brown, but red and black. Orel turned on his light and saw the ground covered in dry blood. After turning to look back, he saw that the slab was covered in scratch marks.

“The others were weak. Did not trust mister, but trusted Ama-dan.”

“You savage critter!” Isao butted the end of his pole to the ground.

Ama-dan snickered and scuttled deeper into the cavern like a spider going along the walls. Isao started sparking thunder as he lost his temper. Before Orel could say otherwise, Isao had already disappeared and emerged before Ama-dan.

“Isao!” Orel yelled.

The white creature’s head rolled on the ground while the limp body hung from the ceiling. Blood splattered on the grey rocks. Isao breathed heavily, taking time to smudge off some of the blood. Still, the grin on the creature’s face remained, taunting Isao.

“Foul, disgusting, wicked! Trapping and slaying your brethren!” Isao stomped on it.

“Only it must have held enough magic to open the door,” Slacume looked at the claw marks.

“Calm down,” Orel walked over to Isao.

Isao breathed deeply before holstering his weapon back. “I apologize. The storm inside me can rage unexpectedly."

“It’s alright,” Orel said.

"Wait, when did you get here?" Slacume asked.

"Not too long before. This cave is like a maze."

“You opened the door on your own?” Slacume realized.

“It is not made that way? To spread your arms on the handprints?”

“Was it that easy for you?” Orel asked.

“I do feel a bit out of charge for the moment. I should replenish myself.” Isao took and opened a gourd from his sash.

“Ooh, is that some magical bottle that can store any matter and energy?” Slacume’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“Wrong, forest-dweller. It holds sake.” Isao took a large sip.

“Oh, just alcohol,” Slacume rubbed his eyes in disappointment.

“Still, I am surprised that you dared to follow here, forest-dweller.”

“It’s Slacume Potomac!" Slacume stepped forward. "And yes, I came here. There are things I need to do.”

“Hmph, very well then. It seems you have used your own strength for once.”

“What is this place?” Orel asked.

“Some mages must have used this cavern for something, and this ‘mister’ that creature mentioned must be connected to it,” Slacume said.

“How old is this?” Orel could not help but wonder.

“Who knows? Decades? Centuries? The mechanism on that door can remain functional for hundreds of years.”Slacume said.

“I think the answer to our questions lies further ahead.” Isao walked forward.

Orel shone his light as they reached the end of the cavern. After looking around, Orel spotted a pile of something. Flashing the light upon it proved to have been a bad idea, and only made the three feel equally sick.

“There’s the rest of them, or what’s left,” Slacume tried to hold his lunch inside.

“The blood is flowing in these grooves.” Orel noticed.

“What sort of ritual site is this?” Isao asked.

The blood of tens of boggarts flowed inside the rough inlays, forming a ritual circle before pouring into the center hole. Even by shining the light down on it, Orel could not see what was at the bottom. The formation was rough, yet the hole was eerily perfect.

“This must be what the spirits were afraid of,” Slacume said. “Wait, look up.”

The roof above was man-made as well. It had the remainders of a shaft, that collapsed long ago, yet held together with large stones. Orel felt the immediate need to get away from the center as dust and rubble sparkled down from it.

“Did they bring something here?” He pondered.

“What should we do about this? Tell father Ostwind?” Slacume asked.

“The ritual seems to be ready but not triggered. I suppose we should consult someone who could know of this.” Isao said.

“Then we should head out,” Slacume agreed and walked back.

Isao and Orel heard Slacume drop to the ground and wriggle back from the entrance, pale white.

“What’s wrong?” Orel asked.

Slacume could only point at the pool of blood. Ama-dan was gone. No longer was the body hanging or the head laying on the floor.

Orel turned his light towards the doorway and saw Ama-dan’s body swaying with its head in its grasp. The other hand burrowed its nails into the slab and forced it open. Isao tried to draw his weapon, but it was too late, and the creature slipped away.

“Stupid humans. Get stuck. Ama-dan goes now.” It mocked with sinister laughter as he ran off.

The three ran to the closing door. Isao took hold of it and barely managed to stop it.

“Run, you two!” Isao yelled.

“But-” Orel stopped.

“Just go!” Isao’s grip was loosening.

Orel and Slacume ran through. Isao could not hold it anymore, and the rock fell back in place. On the other side, the two were at odds.

“We can’t leave him!” Orel looked at the door.

“Orel, we need to warn the father. There's something happening here.“ Slacume insisted.

“But what about Isao?"

“He will probably find a way out."

"...Okay, sure."

The two ran through the cave as fast as they could and emerged outside.

Orel and Slacume saw the moon had turned red like blood.

"What's happening?" Orel asked.

"A blood moon? That can't be good."

They noticed Ama-dan relishing under the bloody moon on top of a tree.

"Yes! Sacrifice under the red moon! Ama-dan grows stronger! Death to all!" It escaped into the woods.

Once the two arrived at the village, it was like they were witnessing the end of the world. None of the houses were lit. Instead, most had been boarded up. Orel could hear not a whisper anywhere, only muffled crying. The winds ravaged the fog, and the blood moon painted everything in a shade of blood, from the light sky to the dark streets. It had begun to rain, which seemed more like the sky was bleeding.

Elsewhere, Gotthold opened the door to Lionel’s office.

“Sir Lionel, A company of the Border Control Corps wishes for your presence.”

“I see. Let them in.” Lionel looked at the moon from his grand window.

Soon enough, a group of officers came into the highly decorated room and saluted formally.

“Albion Defence corps, fourth division, fifth battalion Coille. Major James Periwinkle of the Frogfoot. With me are:”

“Captain Diarmuid Cumhaill.” Diarmuid seemed weirdly held in contempt.

“First platoon, Lieutenant Jessie Ramsay.”

“Second platoon, Lieutenant Angus Aberdeen.”

“Third Platoon, Lieutenant Claire Cumberland.”

“Fourth platoon, Lieutenant Arthur Wellington.”

“Good evening, your highness!” They all announced.

“At ease. Major, what brings you here?” Lionel turned to face the group.

“Sir, it has come to our attention that there had been suspicious magical activity near the Tuatcoil highway, which needs immediate investigation.”

“I see. Where exactly?"

“Approximately fifteen kilometers on the way to Bertim village.”

“What sort of activity we are speaking of? There were sightings of Barghest but there is already a party handling the situation."

“No, your highness. It seems that someone used an areal spell, possibly interacting with those using the road.”

“Sir, if I may.” Gotthold raised her voice.

“Go ahead." Lionel nodded.

“Incidentally, I have not been able to contact our worker that left with the party. I asked him to call me once they had arrived, but that was hours ago."

James’ radio beeped.

“Excuse me.” James moved farther from the room. “Frogfoot of the first battalion, Major Periwinkle. Go ahead. Over.”

“This is HQ company captain Durgeshire speaking. We have reports of unauthorized areal magic in several sectors, including yours. What is your status? Over.”

“Roger that, captain. We report similar sightings in our sector, requesting reinforcements as well. Code yellow. Our current location is Abhean Castle. Over.”

“Yes, copy that Frogfoot. Lieutenant Colonel Erwin has ordered all companies to assess the situation immediately. Have you made contact with duke Lionel? Over.”

“Affirmative. Requesting Field Marchal to be connected for direct orders. Over.”

“Affirmative. Stand-by.”

“What is it?” Lionel asked.

“It seems that this is not an isolated incident. We could be looking at a wide-scale spell.”

“What a disaster I got on my hands.” Lionel shook his head with a smile.

“Your highness, it has come to our attention that the situation requires an urgent response. We have connected to Field Marchal. You are to grant or deny permission for further operations.” James handed over his radio.

Lionel took the small radio from James’ hands and stuffed it against his ear.

“This is Field Marchal Peredur Galois. Who am I speaking to?”

“This is Duke of Gaunnes, Lionel Elyan Claudin."

“Sir Lionel? Yes, of course. Who knew we would talk again so soon?" Peredur laughed. "I have had to make many calls for the past hour, you would not believe it."

"I can tell." Lionel gave an anxious smile.

"Truly, we have a situation in your territory, and our forces need your opinion and permission for further action. We are also looking into asking for support from the Magistrate. How do you comply?”

Lionel glanced at the moon and took a deep breath.

“In the name of Sir Lionel Elyan Claudin, I grant Albion’s Defense Forces and the Magistrate permission to enter and act out all necessary tasks against the current threat in the dukedom of Gaunnes. You have permission to mobilize and move your troops through this territory, evacuate citizens, and incarcerate or neutralize possible threats you see fit. We will worry about the paperwork later. I shall mobilize the local police force as well.”

“Understood, Duke of Gaunnes. We thank you for your cooperation. I will pass this information on to the commanding officers. Turn communications back to headquarters. Over and out.”

Lionel gave the radio back to James.

“Frogfoot, we appoint your company as the mediator between the duke and defense force units. Please select a platoon to guard and retain communication. Over.”

“Major, I am willing to take that role.” Jessie stepped forward.

“No objection to that, lieutenant,” James nodded.

“This is Frogfoot. We appoint first platoon lieutenant Ramsay in charge of that objective. Over.”

“Affirmative. Use standard VIP asset protection protocol in co-op with the local police force. Over.”

“Copy that. Is that all? Over.” James asked.

“Exercise caution. Action as synchronized as this could mean we are dealing with a hostile group. The current objective is for civilian evacuation. Once the area is clear or things escalate, follow S&D protocol. Valuate the situation on-site. You have permission to use magic and standard weapons for neutralizing hostile targets. Without further notice, no heavy weapons, artillery, or AOE spells are permitted. Be safe out there, Frogfoot. Over.”

“Roger. Over and out.” James put his radio back on his waist. “You heard the call. Lieutenant Jessie, organize your platoon and prepare here and retain radio communication. The rest of you will follow me to Bertim. I need to rally up the rest of the platoons.”

“Is there any information on how much damage we are looking at here?” Lionel asked.

“We simply do not know as of yet, your highness. The Coille battalion should have no problem dealing with the issue. Of course, if this would take a turn for the worse, we would probably need to call in the first division.”

“I must call my wife. This is going to be a long night.” Lionel sat back in his chair.

“Goodnight, Sir Lionel.” James left the room.

After strapping in, the convoy left the city. James occupied the lead vehicle, while others followed in order of assigned platoons. They used the designated government vehicle lane to dismiss the traffic. It had been a while since anyone had seen anything like it. The sight of military personnel made most civilians wary. Though they dealt with many matters from border patrol to foreign affairs, most knew that their presence meant something serious.

“We’re so going to die.” Angus shook in the back of the car.

“If so, can I get your laptop?” Diarmuid asked.

“You'd think so, but no." Angus hugged it tightly.