Obed threw his hands up in frustration. "This is insane, Garrick! We don't even know if that thing is following us!"

"And we don't know that it isn't!" Garrick shot back. "You want to risk running straight into it again?"

"I want to get back to the city before we all die out here! We've been out here far too long already!"

Garrick grabbed Obed by the front of his shirt and pulled him close.

"Listen to me," Garrick said, his voice low and dangerous. "That thing was standing on the path leading back to the city. Which means we can't go back the way we came. There will be no chances taken. If you want to take the risk, then be my guest, but I won't be throwing my life away for a possibility."

This time Obed didn't back down at all.

He took a step forward and pointed a finger at Garrick's face,

"The longer we stay out here, the more likely we are to encounter even more unspeakable horrors! That thing found us because it was attracted by that kid or something! This shit is all your fault!"

Obed's hands clenched into fists at his sides and he didn't pull away.

Eventually, Obed sighed and asked,

"So what do you suggest?"

Garrick released him and stepped back. He ran his fingers through his hair. Then he pulled out the map from his pack and spread it on the ground. The others gathered around.

"There's another path," Garrick said, tracing a line with his finger. "It loops around through the eastern edge of the Garden. Takes us further from the river, but there's a path that circles back to it right over here."

"That's at least two extra days of travel," Obed said grimly.

"Better than risking death. Besides, do you have a better idea?" Garrick challenged.

Obed stared at the map, his jaw working. Finally, he shook his head.

"No."

"Then we take the eastern route." Garrick rolled up the map and stood. "We'll keep moving until we're sure we've put enough distance between us and that thing. Then we'll make camp again."

No one argued this time. The exhaustion hung over the group like a shroud, but the alternative, which was stopping here, potentially still within reach of the Defiled Cherub, was far worse.

As the others began preparing themselves, Nero closed his eyes and reached inward.

The void space opened to him immediately. The familiar nothing. The omnidirectional, infinite nothing.

He spoke quickly, this time, not bothering to watch his wording.

"Oracle. What happened to me?"

There was a pause. Then the voice came, cool and measured as always.

{The Heretic attempted to observe something far beyond his current capacity to comprehend. This was a direct consequence of using the Heretic Eyes carelessly}.

"I've used them before," Nero said. "On ghosts. On corrupted creatures. Why was this different?"

{The Defiled Cherub exists on a different order of magnitude than the spirits and Abominations the Heretic has encountered. Its corruption is ancient and far more evil. Attempting to perceive such a being directly creates a channel through which such terrible corruption can flow back into the observer's soul}.

Nero felt a chill run through him.

"You mean... simply looking at it opened me up to attack?"

{Yes. The Heretic Eyes allow you to see truth. But truth, often times, is the worst of poisons. The only reason the Heretic survived was due to anchoring himself to his true name. Without that, his soul would have been consumed entirely}.

"So I can't use the Eyes on powerful things," Nero said. "Is that what you're telling me?"

{Not precisely. The Heretic can still observe such beings. But he must do so indirectly}.

Nero frowned.

"What does that mean?"

{That information is not yet available to the Heretic. Sufficient Seals must be accumulated before such knowledge can be imparted}.

Nero's hands clenched into fists. Of course, it was always the same answer. He wasn't even capable enough to receive certain important information.

It was a wretched feeling he had come to hate quite a bit.

The void space dissolved. Nero opened his eyes to find Garrick standing over him.

"Are you ready to move?" Garrick asked.

Nero nodded and pushed himself to his feet. His body still felt heavy, but he could manage at the very least.

They set off into the darkness, trepidation clinging to their every step.

The eastern route would take them away from the river for some time, deeper into the tangled wilderness of Malady's Garden.

No one spoke. They moved in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Geor kept close to Aisha, his shield kept at the ready. Obed's short swords were drawn, his eyes constantly scanning the shadows and Garrick led from the front, his broadsword resting across his shoulders.

When they came across any Abomination, it was swiftly dispatched with the combined might of the party.

As they walked through the darkness, Nero found himself drifting on more than one occasion.

The memory of the Defiled Cherub simply wouldn't leave him. Those hollow gazes, all fixed on him at once.

The mouths speaking words that promised comfort and warmth but delivered only corruption and madness.

He'd been fortunate to survive with just a tarnished soul. That next time might not be so kind.

But it had also hinted at something more. A way to observe without being consumed. An indirect method.

What did that mean? How could he see something without looking at it directly?

What did that even mean?

Hours seemed to pass and stretch on infinitely.

The darkness never seemed to lift, though Nero couldn't tell if that was because they were still in the dark night or because the canopy of trees was simply too thick.

Finally, Garrick raised a hand. They stopped.

"Here," he said tiredly, "We'll rest here."

It was a glade, barely large enough for all of them. But it was defensible, with thick trees on all sides and only a few narrow approaches.

They set up camp in silence, with no fire this time.They all drank sparingly from their waterskins.

Nero sat apart from the others, his back against a tree. He stared up at the canopy, at the fragments of sky barely visible through the branches.

He closed his eyes and tried to rest.

But sleep, when it came, was filled with horrors with which the mind could not ponder and madness with which the lips could not speak.

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