As my boot dug into Dorit's ruined chest, her eyes grew wide, and for the first time since she'd risen, I saw what looked like humanity glimmering within them. With every passing second, they seemed to clear, the dimness and rage of undeath fading as she took me in.

"I... I... I didn't... mean for this... to happen."

Despite her seeming clarity, I pressed my boot harder into her chest. I couldn't take any chances. "Is this some kind of trick?"

"No... it's no trick..." She shuddered under my boot. "I'm... sorry for attacking you... I had no choice... He commanded it."

I let up, if only a little. "You weren't in control?"

"No..."

I lightened up more. "Who are you?"

"Dorit... of Khozad'Thar."

My heart sank. A small part of me hoped that, when I failed my quest, the system had been wrong. That it hadn't been Dorit. Unfortunately, the system had been correct.

"How did you end up here, Dorit of Khozad'Thar?"

"I came... to find... The hero..." She strained with every word she spoke. "But... The monster... he found me... drank my blood... killed me... I think... I remember being so cold..."

"How did you know she had come? The Hero, I mean."

"Not she... he..." She shook her head. "The Hero of the Pit..."

My blood froze. "Y-you mean me?"

"Are you... The Iron... Sentinel?"

"I am."

She shuddered again. "I found you at last..." Her eyes cleared even more.

"How do you know me?"

"I watched many of your fights. You impressed me time and again with your resolve and determination."

"Why were you looking for me?" I heard squeaking to my side. In the corner of my eye, the rats had converged in one area on the far side of the room. I was sure I didn't have much longer before the vampire revived.

"The whispers... they told me to find you." Her voice was growing stronger, more steady. "They told me you would come here."

"The whispers?"

"Yes." The woman's face twitched. "They speak to me even now."

"What kind of whispers?"

"Dark whispers. Filled with promises. Lies."

The hairs on my neck stood on end. I knew those whispers well. "You hear His words, too?"

"Not His. Theirs."

So, not the Dark Lord then. "Who are they?"

"The dark ones!" Her eyes widened as her voice became frantic. "The sealed calamities!"

The sealed calamities. Of course! Everyone knew about those. "The whispers... Do you know a way to get rid of them?"

"No." She frowned. "I once believed I could, but I no longer believe there is a way."

That took the wind out of my sails a bit. Ever since the Dark Lord reached out and gave me the first of his blessings, I'd hoped there would be a way to remove them. The blessings and the nightmares. I may have been deluding myself.

"What happened to you? When did the whispers start?"

"I descended into the Depths many years ago... I wished to work with strange and new materials..."

"Why?"

"I thought I might find something to help my people... And I liked it." She smiled faintly. "But, in time, the whispers... They filled my mind."

"How long were you down here before they did?"

"A year. Maybe two. But, ever since I went to that keep, they've grown louder. Day or night, waking or dreaming, they've never left me. Not once. Not for a single minute."

"I see." As much as I wanted to dig into her experiences more, the writhing pile of rats across the room told me I didn't have much time left. Thus, I pressed on with my line of questions. I needed to know more. "What are these black blades?" I pulled the old, crumbling one I'd gotten from Tinker Town out of my inventory.

Her eyes fixed on the ruined blade. "They are weapons, crafted in the fourth age." She coughed. "Powerful, tainted things."

"What do they do?"

The longer her eyes took in the blade in my hand, the stronger she seemed to grow. "The weak ones take fragments of souls and replace them with His black essence. Others... they do more. They amplify one's power. They allow one to command." She shook her head. "I know little of that, though. Only he knew everything there was to know about them, for he was their maker."

"Who is this 'he' you speak of?"

"The Black Flame... He created these weapons long ago to corrupt the mortals of Reial..."

I needed to know more. "What else can you tell me?" My voice echoed throughout the hall.

"I came... to give this... to you..." She unbuttoned her belt pouch and pulled out a small leatherbound journal. "If you wish to know more, please, take my research with you..." She tried to hand it to me, but it slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor. "All I've learned is contained within. Perhaps, in your hands, my knowledge can be used for good."

"Why give it to me?"

She shook her head. "The whispers told me to guide you to the seal, but my heart told me to keep you far away. I can no longer do either, so I hope my journal will help you in some small way."

I decided to pick her journal up after we finished. "Why did you make the black blades, Dorit?"

She seemed to be weakening again. "They came to me... asked me to make them weapons... said I could have anything I desired... If I only made them... weapons..."

I looked around, making sure neither the other corpses nor the vampire was coming for me. Luckily, we were still alone, aside from the massive pile of rats. "What did you ask for in return?"

"Peace." Her skin was growing splotchy and dry.

She didn't have much time left. I felt pity for her. "How many of them did you make?"

"Many... so many... but most were failures... they cannot exist in the light... They fade... fade so quickly..."

"How many were successes?"

"Five... five successes..."

"Who has them now?"

"The Hands... of the Fallen... They have them... but not all..."

"What do you mean?"

She grinned. "The original... it is within Embermist Keep... the blade is there... hidden... I studied it... it spoke to me..."

The squeaking rats grew quiet.

That couldn't be good.

"Could the cult find it?"

"No... It only reveals itself... to those it deems worthy..."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Did you tell the cult about it?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"I... knew... they would use it... for wrong..." Her voice was so weak now.

"Did you base all of your weapons on it?'

"Not all... but many... the powerful... most powerful... strong enough to shame my work... Stronger than anything I made... lesser imitations..." Her eyes were rolling in her head. "I never was... much... in the end..."

"Why do they want these blades of yours?" The question seemed obvious, but I had to ask.

"Power..." Her eyes fixed on mine. Instead of the glowing red they had been, they'd turned a soft gray color. "Stronger... than other weapons... Allow them to rule..."

"To rule whom?" I looked around and found that the rats had formed into a large writing pile across the hall.

"They... are... creating... new... race..."

"A new race?" A memory flooded into my mind at her words. It was of Tristan and me standing in Bertram and Bethany's barn. Broken on the floor, and resting in the center of the barn, the corpse of a warped, mutated half-animal beast creature filled my mind's eye.

"Yes... monsters... Far... vad..." Her now-dull eyes locked on mine. "Re... lease... me..."

I could see her mortality in her eyes. The pain. The confusion. She was yet another pawn in the plans of evil fucking bastards. And, after they'd used her up, all that was left of her was a corpse that was clinging to existence and a soul that was desperate for release.

My sword hand twitched. "I'm sorry I didn't reach you in time. You deserved better."

"Long have I wished for death..." she smiled. "For better... or worse... I return... to the stone... now..." When Dorit saw the black blade in my hand, she smiled. "A fitting end..." She gazed at the black blade in my hand. "That one's... real... Allow me... repair... for you..."

Against my better judgment, but trusting I could handle her if she acted up, I lowered the blade so that her fingers could reach it.

Tenderly, she ran her fingers along the pitted blade. Wherever she touched the black metal, motes of black energy appeared out of thin air and repaired it. Within moments, the sword looked as good as new.

"Better..." She smiled. "Now..." She lifted her chin, exposing her neck.

Lifting my sword high, I whispered, "Go in the light," before bringing it back down on her neck.

As her head separated from her body and struck the dais, her body crumbled to ash. An instant later, her smiling face vanished in a puff of black smoke.

I took a breath.

She was another casualty of evil fucking bastards who don't care about anything but themselves. Whether they be warped monsters, or corrupt nobles, or derranged cultists, or the fucked up children of a dead god... They were all evil. Completely and totally evil. And it was my job to make it right. That's why I was here.

Looking up, I saw that, across the room, in the deepest shadows, the rats were devouring one another. As they did, they were growing larger and larger. And the largest had taken a humanoid shape.

I couldn't help but grin. Pointing my restored sword at the thing, I said, "Good. I wasn't done with you yet." Using my experience with the other black blade as a model, I reached my mind into the blade and willed it to ignite.

[Flamewreath]

New flames, these more red than purple, ignited along the blade's edge.

Scanning, I found a discarded iron shield that one of the armored undead had been using, snatched it up, and walked toward the mutating rat pile.

Before I could reach it, however, the mass of rats writhed, rippled, then twisted themselves into knots, their little forms forming a pulsating heap of fur and flesh. From that central mass, a single pulsating red eye opened. Then another. Like soap bubbles, they popped, spraying their ooze across the floor, only to be replaced with new ones. Then, from out of the pulsating core of the rat mass, came two spindly arms. Two legs. A head topped with long black hair.

In seconds, the vampire was standing before me, nude as the day it was born, and grinned.

"Hello again, little chosen..." The vampire purred. Snatching up one of the rats and biting it in half, a wave of black blood poured from its lips as the remaining rats, about a dozen or so, bit into its legs, shrieked, and were pulled into its body. Somehow, long, regal robes formed over its skin, and it looked exactly like it had before I'd nearly cut it in half.

"Well fought, my friend. Well fought, indeed." It took a step toward me. "Seeing how well you fought has changed my perspective." It pointed a clawed finger at me. "Why would I waste such a valuable resource as you?"

[Shield Throw]

A pulse of black energy erupted from its finger. Just as its skull crumpled inward, but it hardly seemed to notice the damage.

All around us, the bones, ash, and ruined flesh of the undead that I had fought and destroyed began smoke. Black mist poured from each and floated toward the vampire.

As it did, the vampire lifted its hands high, and the black energy coalesced over its palms. "I require a champion. Serve me, chosen, and I will give you everything you have ever desired." As if pouring the smoke from its palms, the vampire tilted its hands and poured a waterfall of the black mist into its mouth. As it consumed the stuff, its body began to change. It was taller. More muscular. More perfect, if that were possible.

A sudden pain erupted within my mind.

I could hear something just at the edge of my awareness. Something that sounded like... whispers?

They were nothing like when the Dark Lord spoke to my soul. His voice was deep, commanding. Booming. It resonated throughout my entire being.

It was nothing like when Faye spoke to me, either. Her voice sounded like she was speaking aloud beside me, and it was never insistent. Never pushy.

These whispers were different. They were insidious. Foul. Sometimes they spoke together, but often they clashed, competing to be the loudest. And with every passing second, they were growing louder.

Your friends will betray you.

Your lovers will leave you.

Join us.

Accept his gift.

Reject your ties.

They will all suffer because of you.

Then, all at once, together, the voices screamed.

You were meant to serve.

Shaking my head to push their voices to the edge of my mind, I refocused on the vampire.

The last of the smoke had poured into its mouth. "Join me, champion. You were meant to serve."

"Whether those little whispers of yours are telling the truth or not, I really don't give a shit." I tightened the old, rusty shield onto my forearm, then readied my burning sword. As I did, I took two steps forward. That got me close enough to cross the gap in a flash. "I just want you dead."

The vampire frowned. "Just like that dwarf woman... You can hear them, as well?"

"Hear who?" I figured the whispers had been coming from him.

"The masters."

"The masters, huh?" So he wasn't the source of them, then? If not him, were they trying to speak to me? Those people, the shadowy ones from the alley, the Scions or whatever, flooded into my mind. "I don't know anything about that, or them. All I know is that these voices are annoying as shit."

That seemed to bother the creature. Raising it's hands as if it were speaking to a god, it screamed, "I will prove myself, my creator!" It reached toward me and bared its teeth. "I will tear this mortal's throat from his neck and offer his blood to you as a sacrifice." Its eyes grew wide. Feral. "I see your mind, mistress! You have brought me this gift that I might redeem myself!"

As it shrieked out its final word, I lunged.

In a single cut, I severed half its arm, which burned away into black smoke.

The problem was, nearly as fast as it burned away, a new one reformed.

"Pitiful mortal." With it's new arm, it threw the back of its fist at my head.

Raising my shield in time, I was nearly thrown to my side by the attack.

It was far stronger now.

"Curse your fate that it led you to me." The monster vanished in a puff of smoke. "Know despair before you die."

I ducked a breath before its claws would have gouged out the back of my neck. Pivoting so I could face it, I blocked another stroke, which threw me backward a good two paces.

It was fast now. Too fast.

Its form blurred as it shot at me. At the last second, I leaped to the right.

The vampire rushed past and slammed into the pillar ten feet behind me. The stone crumbled from the impact, causing the floor to buckle and crack.

I hit the ground, rolled, and sprang back to my feet, but the instant I did, the vampire was on me.

Its claws flashed, nearly taking out my throat.

I barely managed to get my shield up in time.

Its claws scraped against the metal with a screech, then a crack, as one of its claws punched through the iron, tearing open a section of the shield's band.

[Provoke]

I activated my skill, hoping that it would throw the vampire off its rhythm like it had earlier, but the skill hardly seemed to affect it. Had it not been for the flick of its eyes, I wouldn't have believed it had.

Focusing on that flicker, however, I took advantage of the opening. The creature's left arm was extended. Lashing out, I swung my flaming sword in a short, tight arc. The blade connected with its forearm, burning the flesh in a puff of black smoke.

The vampire recoiled, clutching its arm. Where my blade had struck, I saw nothing but a deep, blackened gash that was already healing.

"Damn it." I slashed again, aiming for its leg. That might slow it down.

The blade seared into it's leg, which erupted into black smoke, but just as quickly as I'd wounded it, its form blurred and vanished.

A breath later, I felt its presence behind me.

"Know the silence of death."

Spinning, I swung my sword, but the monster caught my wrist at the beginning of the movement and twisted.

My black blade clattered to the ground. Its flames went out.

Before I could recover, I felt its cold hands wrap around my neck.

"You're strong." With a powerful heave, the vampire ripped me off my feet. "I see why that horrible goddess chose you."

[Stoneshatter]

I punched it directly in the eye, exploding half its face in a spray of gore, but it hardly seemed to notice.

"A pity. I would have preferred a champion such as you. Alas, that is not the Blooddrinker's will." It bent its arms, pulling me close enough that I could smell its rotten breath.

"Bastard..." I couldn't breathe, and black spots danced in my vision.

Its face, already nearly healed after the trauma I'd inflicted on it, twisted as it opened its mouth wide, revealing jagged, growing teeth. A fresh wave of rotten, stinking air washed over my face.

I kicked the vampire. Kicked again. Punched with all my strength.

They did nothing.

[Stoneshatter]

My eyes went black, and my ears rang as I punched it in the jaw, completely shattering it.

A deep, distorted laugh escaped the monster's lips. "Yyyou dhelay..." Its jaw repaired itself nearly as fast as I'd broken it, "... the inevitable."

I couldn't keep using my skills like this, but if I didn't, I was done.

Pulling me into an embrace, it reared its head back, then bit.

[Iron Skin]

For an instant, every sense known to me vanished.

Then, as I came to, I learned that the vampire had waited to bite. It had clearly learned from its last attempt.

"Good fight, chosen." I felt its breath on my neck.

I thrashed and kicked, but it was no use.

"Fuck..."

Something moved against the far wall.

It was a person... a beautiful person with deep blue eyes, eyes far more blue than any human's.

Those sapphire eyes met mine.

Whispering something that I couldn't make out, I watched as a massive ball of brilliant white light appeared in her outstretched palm.

I grinned. "If only you hadn't been so melodramatic, you might have actually won."

"Huh?" The vampire looked over its shoulder and shrieked.

The ball of light rippled in Tristan's palm, then cascaded forward, streaking through the air directly at us.

[Stoneshatter]

I felt my fist connect with the vampire's face just as it turned back to me.

Its face shattered.

I felt the monster's hands loosen around my neck, and I began falling as the world went black.

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