It was warm in the foothills stretching from the Kosican Range down into Armagne. The sun felt pleasant upon my skin—more so than it might have weeks ago, when I was still thoroughly touched with Corruption. I enjoyed it and the breeze, eyes closed as the wind whispered across my face, cooling my bare scalp.

"A death to all good things," Feia muttered by my side. "No more hiding in the shadows like diseased wretches. We must bear ourselves to civilization and face its wrath."

"Wrath?" I opened an eye, glancing at her sour expression as she observed the open fields of Armagne to our south. Villages and towns dotted the lowlands across the wide river, with lakes and marshy ponds breaking up the stretch of dry fields. From so far away, it looked peaceful. Serene, even. I didn't wish to be the one to end their idyllic life.

"Oh yes. The Armagnians hate the Dead almost as much as they hate their brutish Kosican neighbors. Their money is ineffective against both."

"I have heard them described as a mercantile people. We have the gold for a reason."

"Little might stop them from betraying us."

"Perhaps." I squinted at the lands stretching out before us and wished for a map of the terrain. While we could see far from here, there was no way of knowing if our chosen route would lead us into unavoidable inhabited territory. I wished for scouts, guides, and officers to query for their local wisdom. All things I had taken for granted in Pethya, in hindsight.

I had led war before but was not a master of it. I was capable enough, but at my core, I was far from a professional soldier.

My Soulborne, almost all one hundred and eighteen of them, stood behind in a column, still as cypresses on windless days. Some of them wore furs and old, rough cloaks of scavenged or quietly-purchased cloth, obscuring their true form. Still, tall and broad as they were, even a casual eye would mark them as inhuman. Most carried their axe and javelin in one hand across the shoulder, others pulled the carts, and the few not in the column dashed through the underbrush on our flanks, watching and listening.

I could not bring them south and remain hidden. I simply couldn't.

No, be patient. Think. I rubbed at my face, tight with anxiety. We must reach Vasia to deliver my demands… I could have them approach from underwater? Follow through the river to the sea, then along the coast? It would be a long hike, and the decay of the sea worried me. Besides, the barrier of water would make controlling them more demanding on my mind. I could do it, but it would be difficult, pressed as I was with the sheer numbers for such a long march. And would that even be fast enough? Surely, shepherds and the like would have seen my army by now and be racing to tell their families, their villages, and the towns. Word would circle back to Vasia soon enough, I feared.

I had to act fast.

"Ships," I said, finally. "We bring them south in ships."

Feia grasped my intentions immediately, grinning devilishly. "Put them in boxes and pretend they're cargo? We could bring them right into Nova that way."

An advantage of this new age is the prevalence of open trade. I shall use it to my advantage. My mind was racing. It was a good plan but one that demanded many smaller schemes to allow it to unfold, and I knew little of merchant affairs and practices. "If I can find a vessel large enough to store them all in the hold, if such a ship even exists, then we'll need cover and caution to transport them aboard…" As I trailed off, an idea sprouted and took root. It had risks, certainly, but far fewer than an open march south. And, if executed well, no one would be any wiser.

I hid the army as best I could in the thin woods as Feia and I ventured into the nearest settlement and purchased two oxen carts. The ones I had manufactured had served their purpose for our pilfered riches and animals for fuel. Now, I needed something presentable. With these new carts, I had my Soulborne strip their weapons and armor and deposit them in the large beds over a portion of the riches. Of the rest of the gold and jewels, I had buried in the hills far from civilization, deep within a cave and under piled tons of stone. Then, quickly and subtly as we might under the cover of night, I had the Soulborne find an unpopulated, covered section of the riverbank and dash into the water. Feia and I steered the carts along a nearby path toward Delues, the Dead following underwater, less than a quarter-mile from our flank. Under the depths of the river, they were invisible. And though the pressure on myself was significant, I could maintain it for some time. A few days, perhaps.

I smiled to myself. This would work.

We ventured into Delues, posing as merchants, earning odd looks from the guards, which quickly turned disinterested as silver found its way into their hands. We wandered our way through the busy streets, I with my hood up and face downcast. It was the first time I had been in such a populated settlement since I was imprisoned. It felt… odd. The world continued without concern for myself, the past, or what was to come; everyone was blinded by the frivolities of their daily lives, ignorant of all that had happened and all that would. I felt small, consequently, and slightly enraged. How could they go on living when I'd lost so much? How could they be ambivalent to my sorrow? To Feia's? An immature thought, perhaps, but nevertheless, it coursed through my blood and made me grit my teeth as I steered through these busy streets. My Dead waited underwater just outside the toll gate, deep and distant from my command. It took no small deal of concentration to maintain my hold over them. As such, Feia led the next part of my plan.

She procured a large merchant vessel after much haggling with a crew of bemused, then confused, and finally exhausted and weary sailors, their captain most defeated of them all. Feia, indeed, was a force to be reckoned with. I smiled as she finalized an agreement to transport our cargo that very day. They wanted to wait till tomorrow, but, of course, they didn't get as they wished, for Feia was not to be swayed. Paid in silver from our abundant hold of riches, they unloaded our wagons without much mind to the contents into their expansive hold. I did my best to hide the treasure in mundane crates and chests, though surely they heard the jingle of metal inside and would have to wonder. But under our watchful eyes, no theft or even undue curiosity occurred. At Feia's request, they let her lock the hold with a promise not to attempt entry.

We sailed for a day, stopping, at our encouragement, at a relatively small town; we gave them money to drink and celebrate. When the moon was high and hidden in thick clouds, the village quiet, and the sailors in town and in a drunken sleep, with our ship docked and secured, I had my Soulborn emerge. They climbed up the dock, then the ship's side to slink onto the deck, quiet and agile as panthers. After Feia opened the lock to the hold below, I had the Dead slip inside.

Fortunately, the ship was large enough to contain all of them, and after locking up the hold again, we slept, smug in our deceit.

Two days passed. We left the protection of the Baldric river on the first of the two days and comfortably entered the open sea on the second. Fear of coastal pirates and rumors of raiders had the captain veer the ship's course until one could no longer make out the coast. Though I had no fear of pirates, I allowed the longer but more isolated route. I didn't wish to lose the cover of rich merchants if that is what they truly believed us to be. And, strangely, as the ship bore no oars whatsoever, it sailed easily in the Kastalec.

On the end of the second day, Feia and I stood at the bow of the ship, away from the sailors, most of which were lounging in shade, eating and playing dice as an easy breeze took us east. The hold, protected by a simple locked hatch, was left alone, for their provisions and supplies were kept apart. Occasionally, one of the sailors might walk over it, and a spike of worry would thrust through me. But that was all.

Feia was leaning half over the railing, small flakes of ivory flinging into the churning sea as she carved a charm of some fox from a bone of unknown origin. Her body, normally hidden by multiple tunics of varying thickness for harsh weather, now only bore the thin linen, ankle-length tunic over her undergarments. Though her jewelry and Sorcerous Artifacts clattered softly in the wind, her hair was held back by a conservative red head scarf, both to escape the annoyances of the sea gales and blend in with the dress of local women. It amused me to see, for little she could do might help her blend in with anyone, fierce and untamed as she was. And, in her thin layers, her lithe, sinuous body was not exactly hidden from imagination—it drew my eye many times. Though I imagined it a temptation for the sailors, none even cast a glance after her initial death-promising glares.

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For my own appearance, I did little, wearing a thin tunic for the sun, arms bearing a few of the gold rings from the treasure trove. They made the ivory and bronze Sorcerous arm rings blend in a bit easier, though they hardly helped to draw eyes away from the diadem. After Drazivaska, my Corruption was nearly thoroughly vanquished, and I could now bare my skin without fear of others seeing. A liberation, certainly. Feia's and my Sorcerous gambesons were stored away in our small cabin, both for the heat and to not arouse suspicion. The Corrupted Eye, as I began to call it, still hung from my neck, though it was tucked in my tunic as best I could manage. No matter what, I would not part with my weapons. Never again would I be caught unawares and vulnerable.

"This blood feud of ours shall not last forever," Feia said, blowing a flake of bone away from her carving. "When it is done, we must look toward the future. What are your ambitions once we complete this step of fate?"

"You know how I feel about fate."

She laughed. It was rich and throaty, a sharp retort—not of condescension, but bemusement. "Nevertheless."

"Besides searching Elansk for my sister, Maecia, should she be there…" I paused in consideration for some time, then answered honestly, "I have not thought of what might come after. If an after does come… I would like to help them rebuild."

"Oh?" The sun shone off her eyes, glinting in curiosity. "You would offer yourself to the Vasian beast? Do you believe they would appreciate your beneficence?"

"Hardly. They will rally against me as societies do to a dangerous external threat."

"You would be their rallying cause."

"Perhaps. It all depends on how the voivodes, tsar, and priests of the Column handle my demands. I would be naïve to expect compliance, but if it happens without too much commoner's blood spilled, then perhaps I can win forgiveness. And with forgiveness, they may see reason in following my direction."

"You would be arrogant beyond belief, Daecinus Aspartes," she said, slipping away the carving, leaning against me, her arm snaking through mine, "if I did not know the man before me. Yet, I see water turned red once it is done. There will be losses beyond our targets, deaths beyond our desires and control. This is the way of fate: chaos."

I looked away from her. "Perhaps."

"There is still hope for your wishes, though I do not want to see them come to fruition."

"What do you mean?"

"I've had enough of Vasia. I don't want to stay and see rabies-sick beast be tamed into something presentable when its core is still rotten with blood-hunger." She squeezed my arm. "I will not force you, but I would extend an offer to follow me into the mysteries of the east. Explore Merkenia with me, Daecinus. Leave this ruined world behind, and we can start anew far from it all."

Tempting. More-so than she realized, in all honesty. And yet, I've a responsibility to a society I am breaking. I cannot just let it fall and dash apart on the rocks of my justice… I must be more than the fist of vengeance but the offered hand of hope. That is the legacy I should leave in memory of my people. Still, what future was there in the wilderness of Merkenia, or anywhere, for that matter, with her? Feia would live a little while longer, then die while I still had at least another century or two to watch the world shift and change—supposing my life expectancy had not changed with the decay of Sorcery, of course. Could I begin a life with a regular human? Could I with Feia, specifically? We were partners in this, that I knew, but I'd not put much thought to our relationship beyond that. At its core, it was a thing of convenient companionship. Could it be anything more?

I looked over to the odd yet captivating woman. She was watching me closely, her narrowed eyes not suspicious or credulous but wordlessly observant. Rarely had I met someone who saw so much and revealed so little. "I may," I said finally, "but I have a responsibility to those I would endanger by bringing chaos to their society. In whatever fashion they may accept, I will owe the people of Vasia my support."

"That is all I can demand of you," she replied, chin rising, a smile touching her face. "Your deep consideration is enough for my heart, for now."

We spent a little while longer in silence, watching over the sea as the sun turned to moon, and the voices of the sailors drifted to murmurs. Whatever future lay before me, whatever came next, should I survive, it was heartening to know there was another in this world who wished to handle the unknown with me. It was, in an odd way, a fortuitous thing that I was awoken by such a group. Even if most of them were gone now, they had made my isolation in this new world far more bearable. Now, perhaps, I would not be alone at all.

And yet, I doubted we would get what we wanted out of Vasia. Few things were so simple.

That night, my dreams were quiet and reserved. I saw the past and future mingle and intermix into one consistent motion of memory. As if they fit together, pieces joining flushly, a life of consistency. The rhythm of the tide, salty wind of my homeland, biting and fresh upon one's skin. Sand under bare feet, the screech of gulls, the hills of our manors where—

I woke with a start, sitting up, one hand braced on the cot, another on my chest to feel my beating heart. Something had awoken me, but what? I strained to listen, there in the darkness, a creaky ship the only audible protest.

Someone screamed.

Feia woke, gasping and scrambling to her feet. She had the linen tunic on faster than I and went to march outside. I snatched her arm and held her back. Her face was made up of mere hazy shapes in the darkness where the only light came from gaps in the wood and under the door, yet I saw the realization dawn on her.

I probed for my Dead. While they couldn't communicate thoroughly back, I did sense a shift, a tensing like that of a predator ready to strike. I gave commands not to attack unless they were under direct threat of damage or death. Ensuring my ivory bands of amplification were present, I put on my gambeson as quickly as I could and exited, holding Feia behind me.

The first thing I saw was the open door to the ship's main hold. Next, numerous sailors up and armed, staring down into the darkness; a few glanced up at me. A moment of wariness, then they saw my defensive apparel, and it was confirmed in their minds. No longer could I be simply the odd-looking wealthy merchant.

I put up my hands as a few advanced towards me. "I am the only thing keeping them back from consuming all on board."

They stopped. I looked behind and found a few on the main castle, staring down at me with javelins in hand and eyes large in fright. A single message flashed through my mind from the Soulborne: Hunger. The one who screamed must have went down to investigate and found my Soulborne anxious to feast… My command was too slow, and their claws and teeth not decisive enough to stop his screams.

"I told you to leave the door locked," I said, holding Feia close behind me as I shifted toward the starboard side so my back was only to the sea. "I told you for good reason. It was never my intention to harm any of you. But if you dare threaten me now…"

Weapons lowered slightly as questioning glances flew toward the captain, a man younger than one might expect. "You're a necromancer. You had us shipping Dead."

"Call me what you wish. Why open the door?"

"We were dragging. Gir was more inquisitive than he ought to be." The added weight, of course! I cursed myself for my lack of thoroughness, but the captain continued, "He's dead now, and you've Greyskins aboard my ship. We'd have no part in whatever this—"

"I will advise you to think carefully about what you ought to do next. They are not Greyskins, but Soulborne—more intelligent, stronger, faster. If you threaten me, they will be upon you like birds to a carcass."

He stared at me from above, rubbing his whiskered jaw, lips twisted. "So we're hostage to your Dead, then."

"That's correct."

"What business do you have in Nova?"

"Does it matter?"

"Afraid it does, sir."

I stepped forward, prompting many weapons to raise as sailors jerked back. "I am a friend of the Column. This is a… project they would rather not let news get out about. Deliver me into Nova, and you shall be rewarded; then you may depart the city without worry. Do you understand?"

No one responded. The captain, holding my gaze, simply nodded. "Fine then. To Nova."

You don't believe me, and yet you agree anyway. Pragmatism or a bald-faced lie with intent to betray me? It wasn't clear, and I was not a competent enough liar to get the truth out of them. So I apologized for their loss and went to retire. But then I stopped myself. I have to be thorough. No more foolish mistakes. So, I had Protis and a few others climb from the hold and crouch below the forecastle, figures in shadow. The sailors gawked and kept their distance, perhaps earning more fear this way, but I would not risk any plots of locking my Dead inside and burning the ship, should they get so ambitious. My Soulborne could break free, of course, but I doubted if they would fare well in the open sea.

And so, I returned to sleep, my Sorcerous Artifacts still worn, exhaustion from my burdens the only thing delivering me to unconsciousness. My dreams of peace were gone, replaced with drowning in the cold dark, something tight wrapped around my ankle, hauling me down. And before me, a corpse in the sea, pale and shriveled like a ghastly siren, was Demetria, my love, watching me. Her eyes were dark and cold and piercing. They could see right through me.

I had to be better. I had to be.

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