Converging Paths

[Aelin Valth]

Closed to Josette


The Long March, Grasslands, Corone, en route to Radasanth.

Mossy limbs stretched like fingers overhead, splayed perfectly so that sunlight filtered through to the dirt track. Trodden countless times, the familiar path wound through the grasslands ahead of the small contingent of armed men. Scraps of plate and leather wavered in the midday heat as the Knights marched along. "Steady boys," a voice called from the front, "Radasanth is days out from here, don't let the sun take you out this soon!"

The collective groaned in response. "Oi, Dobbs, do us a favor and spare us your ruddy optimism," growled one man, "you're more like to poison us to death with sentiment than the sun is to burn us alive." Green eyed and gruff, the graying elf smirked as a chorus of laughs rose up around him.

Dobbs scowled, but thought better about a reply. His golden mane of hair was finely combed with twin braids hung close to his left eye. Fierce blue eyes skimmed the vast, lush green field that stretched out around them. "Right," he muttered softly, "best remember the mission, Dobb."

"The two initiates," chimed in the aged elf, "any word back?" A songbird chirped and he glanced up slowly, then turned his gaze expectantly toward his Commanding Officer.

With a taut smile, Dobbs shook his head. "Nothing, Zak. Silent, just as ordered. If all stays well, we should rendezvous with them by nightfall."

"Do you think it wise?" Zakar closed his eyes. The entire squad paused and turned their gaze toward the oldest member of the group. "They are both novices, and one of them is considerably weak for a boy his age. Sending them into a ruin, even a small and thoroughly explored one-"

"Is a learning experience,' Dobbs replied. "One of them is blessed by extreme magical talent, and the other is nearly bereft. Conversely, one has the necessary skills to keep them both alive. If they are able to function as a team unit, they may learn from one another and both grow as Knights."

Zakar chuckled. "You may be giving them too much credit."

With a solemn nod, Dobbs agreed. "Perhaps."


Meanwhile...

Vines hung low in front of the shattered arch, where Aelin stared blankly into darkness. "Yeah, I don't think I like this idea," he muttered. "No, in fact, I don't like this idea at all. We can leave now." Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he backed slowly away, but he stopped when a firm hand rested on his shoulder.

"Not today," the stern response drained all color from Aelin's face. "We have a job to do." She smiled back over her shoulder as the vines swept harmlessly away at her touch. "It's dark. Hope you've got a light."

He grumbled unintelligibly as his hands moved in an intricate pattern, swirling rhythmically until a flash of low light burst into existence between his palms. "Torch," he commanded simply. The woman obliged in silence as he ignited an oiled cloth affixed to the tip of a small, snapped tree branch.

When the light filtered through the room, Aelin felt his jaw drop.

[Josette]

“Is that…” the young mage’s voice trailed.

“Blood?” Josette finished what he could not. She nodded. “I believe so.” The flickering orange light of the torch lit only one side of her face; the rest remained shrouded in darkness. When Aelin turned back to look at his companion, he found half of a tight-lipped frown and a single blue pool that revealed no clue to the girl’s thoughts. Her gaze was fixated on the red-stained walls.

The crimson liquid shimmered in the firelight. It was not splashed haphazardly, as one might expect to see at a murder site. Rather, it was deliberately painted on the rough stone surface in thick, solid brush strokes. A quick glance about the small room revealed that the grotesque graffiti was present on all four walls.

“I don’t like this idea,” he repeated for a third time, his voice now far weaker than it had been before.

Josette brushed past him, moving closer to the nearest wall, and lifting the torch higher over her head. A closer inspection was enough to reaffirm her earlier suspicions. "This is blood," she stated matter-of-factly. Aelin made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a whimper, and her frown deepened as she heard it. "You've never seen blood before?" came her question, though she did not turn away from the wall as she asked it.

"Of course I've seen blood," he shot back, his insult at her question adding a bit of forcefulness back to his tone."I wouldn't be much of a knight if I couldn't handle blood." He paused, and though Josette could not see him, she knew he was looking around. Finally, "I just haven't seen gallons of it splashed across the walls as if someone meant to paint with it."

The raven-haired knight shook her head. "This isn't splashed. These are symbols."

"Do you know what they say?" The extensive silence from his partner answered his question. "No," he commented finally, the suffocating silence between them becoming too much for him to handle. "Me neither." Raking one hand through his silvery-white hair, he took a single step closer to Josette. “I bet this has something to do with the lights and voices that the townspeople have been reporting.”

“Mmhmm.” Her low rumble of agreement was hardly audible, even in the still silence of the ruins. Aelin had known the woman for less than a year, but he had learned enough to know that she was deep in thought. Suddenly, she spoke again. “I had expected to find squatters, or teenagers hiding out here. But this,” she motioned to their surroundings, still only partially illuminated by Aelin’s fire, “looks more like cult work.”

“That would make sense. I’m sure that these symbols are new, or someone would have told us about them by now.” The boy’s blue eyes, a shade far lighter than those of his comrade, squinted against the darkness. His gaze willed the mysterious symbols to reveal their secrets, but when they did not, he turned back Josette. She, too, had given up on deciphering the codes.

“Should we head back then?” Aelin continued. “Tell them about what we’ve found?” His tone revealed that he was partial to the idea, and when Josette shook her head, his face fell.

“I don’t feel that our business is done here. Dobbs would not send us all this way for something so simple."

Aelin's head tilted slightly as he considered her words. "Do you think this is some sort of test then?"

"Perhaps."

A cool breeze rolled through the door, carrying with it a stink that neither initiate could place. As it filled the small chamber, they found themselves shivering slightly, a result of both the chill and a strange dread that washed over the pair. Vegetation shifted with the wind, a sound that could easily be mistaken for hushed whispers of some otherworldly beings. The flame on the torch leapt and rolled, casting tall, eerie shadows that had not existed before. Though no words were exchanged, there was a strange new sense of urgency shared between them.

Josette spoke first. "We should find out what the symbols mean. We also need to determine where the blood came from."

"That's two jobs, and this is a big place." Aelin hesitated, as if he regretted asking his question. "Should we split up?"

He heaved a small sigh of relief when Josette answered. "No," she replied sternly. "Let's stay together for now."

Finally, he thought to himself. Something that they could agree on.

[Aelin Valth]

Shadows danced across the floor at their feet spilling ounces of truth across a field of lies. The wet smack of his footsteps admonished Aelin for the treacherous desire to look down. He already knew what lay there, turgid and stagnant. Though the shadowed halls, the breeze howled with noxious breath that stole back the short reprieve it offered. "Gaia fend, I'm going to gag."

"Suck it up," Josette growled. Aelin held a cupped hand over his mouth and nose, but the stoic woman seemed almost unaffected. "It won't get any better from here. We have to go further in, and the smell came from that direction." She pointed, and the boy felt his stomach lurch.

"This feels like too much," he spoke quickly, but the fear caused his words to quiver. "If we went back now, I doubt much would be said."

Josette turned and stared Aelin down. "Are you really a man?" she inquired, "I'm having trouble believing it. You need to get over this fear of yours and focus on the mission, Valth. I can't do this without your help, and you're not going to do it if I don't push you." His eyes trailed away from the girl as she chastised him, but he felt her gaze burning hotter than any fire he could conjure.

"Fine," he resigned himself and shut his eyes. With a curt wave of his hand, the fledgling pyromancer palmed the waning torchlight and let out a soft sigh. Josette watched in bewilderment as the makeshift illumination in her hand went out and the blaze in his grasp fanned hotter. The room burst with visibility. Figures clad in leathers and furs sprawled across the floor indiscriminately. Josette took a step back and gasped. "They're everywhere," he explained, "I just didn't want to see them."

The woman nodded slightly. She jumped when her heel hit something soft. "Come on," she huffed, "let's get this over with." Her determination overshadowed any fear beneath her carefully guarded exterior.

Together they waded through the mire of bodies. Aelin made a silent note of their features, twisted masks of horror. The chill that crept along his spine rippled through the flame in his hand. "You going to be alright?" Josette asked when the light fluctuated.

"Yeah," he replied. The hall twisted ahead of them, scrawlings in gore splattered along the walls. Aelin felt his head spinning. "It looks like some kind of profane ritual," he added.

"It was starting to feel cultic to me," Josette agreed. "I wonder what they tried to..."

Her words died when they stepped into the vast antechamber that the hallway fed into. Aelin felt his knees give, and he sank to the floor. Nailed to the walls on every side, bodies situated in sacrificial fashion stared lifelessly toward heaven. In silence, the young mage prayed that they found it. Surgically slit open at the abdomen, each corpse looked emptier than the last. Entrails strewn mathematically across the ground were displayed in an erratic pattern.

Josette stared blankly at the scene and her mind reeled as she tried to comprehend it. "Aelin," she whispered, "you might be right."

The ember in his hand started to snuff as Aelin trembled. He turned to glance up at Josette when she spoke. To hear her agree that they might be in over their head shattered the confidence she gave him mere minutes before. His lips opened to reassure her, but his eyes widened and his face paled.

Aelin screamed.

[Josette]

Josette did not hesitate. In a single, fluid motion, she drew her sword. It slid from its sheath with a soft, metallic hiss, a sound nearly lost to Aelin's howling. She turned, her long braid swinging over her shoulder, her face set in stone as she faced her opponent. Like a well-oiled machine, Josette slipped into combat mode.

But even her cool wavered when she caught sight of what had set her partner off. Only a few paces away, a hunched figure was illuminated by the fire mage's flame. Patches of furs were held to his willowy body with thin, worn leather straps. His long, black hair, ratted and oily from weeks without wash, hung loosely about his shoulders. His feet were bare, with nothing to protect him from the cool, jagged stone underfoot.

This man closely resembled the other bodies strewn about the room, but that was not what unnerved Josette the most. It was his eyes that held her gaze, though she was not certain of what it was that stared back at her. The pools were milky white, and though she searched them frantically, there was no sign of life. The sensation sent shivers up her spine and goosebumps down her arms. Beneath her armor, the young woman trembled.

All it took took shatter her trance was a single footstep. The man, if it was a man at all, reached out a single hand, and took a shambling step forward. Josette, in response, lunged. The iron edge of her heavy sword glowed as it arched through the air, cutting cleanly though the man's neck, and releasing first a spurt, and then a steady stream of blood. As the body crashed to its knees, the head rolled for a few feet before coming to a halt against an uneven slab of stone. Josette stared at it a moment longer, its face still staring up at her with eyes no more dead than they had been before she intervened. She turned away as hot bile filled the back of her throat.

For a few seconds, there was stunned silence. When Aelin finally found his words, they came in a hushed whisper, as if he feared any higher volume might result in the removal of his head as well. "Jo. You killed him."

"Don't call me Jo," came the cold retort, voice bereft of any emotion as she fought to keep her fear in check. "I've told you that before." A pause, and then, "I didn't kill him."

Confusion now laced Aelin's tone as he countered softly, "but you just did. I watched you do-"

"Look at his face, Valth," she interrupted, motioning to the disembodied head with the tip of her blood-stained sword. "Do you see the dark red streaks coming out of his ears, nose, eyes, and mouth? I didn't do that. That blood has been dried for a long time now. Didn't you see it when he walked in?"

Aelin hesitated, trying to sift through the overwhelming emotions that came with watching an execution. "Yes," he answered finally. "I did, but I didn't think he was dead. Maybe he was just hurt, and reaching out to us for help."

"He was dead already."

"But how do you know that?"

The image of the lifeless eyes burned fresh in her memory. She did her best to blink it away. "I just know." Without allowing any chance for further discussion, she closed the matter with a short, "let's go."

"Where are we going?" His voiced wavered, laced with a strange mixture of hesitation and suspicion. "Are we leaving?"

"No," she responded plainly. "I don't think we should. Those things are a danger to the people who live around here. We need to destroy them; it is our duty as knights."

"Our duty as knights," her companion repeated, letting the words slowly roll of his tongue. He nodded. "You're right. We have to stay."

"I'm glad you agree." Stepping over the fallen body of the man she had slain only moments before, Josette made her way to the tall, ornate archway. Fingertips traced the smooth stones as she slowed to a halt beside them. "Hurry up," she called over her shoulder. "It's dark, and I need your light."

It was both her prompting and his eagerness to leave the room of horrors behind that sent Aelin scooting around the headless corpse and into the next area. As he moved, the light shifted with him, throwing comforting light onto alien surroundings. This room, to the relief of both knights, had a distinct lack of dead bodies. The fire mage paused to heave a heavy sigh of relief, but Josette did not stop until she stood in the center of the room. Stooping, the young woman collected a pile of loose papers, and stacked them into a haphazard pile. Her gaze shifted to the documents in her hand, but after only a few seconds, her face contorted into a look of frustration.

"Its in another language," she informed Aelin as he moved up beside her. Arms extended as she moved to drop the papers, but the other knight caught her arm.

"Wait," he cautioned, slowly easing the parchment from her gauntlet-clad grasp. Now his blue eyes traversed the top page, but instead of frustration, he donned an expression of interest. "No, this is just in a shorthand. Its a messy shorthand, but I think I can read it."

[Aelin Valth]

"Stharos thil'arath..." he began to mutter the words scribbled on the page with fervent understanding. His gaze grew dire and darkened to rival the shadows that surrounded them. "...aeternum val'rith..." the young novice choked on the words that passed his lips with a shallow sound. "Gods below," he murmured after a moment, "gods..."

When Aelin appeared to sicken before her, Josette cast a concerned look. "What does it say?"

"I'll give you the annotated version," he answered solemnly, "and that begins by confirming what we assumed. This was a ritual of summoning." The girl seemed to sneer slightly at his explanation, but he proceeded to elaborate. "The notes written in on the pages are in the common tongue, albeit a very poorly written attempt. The cultists intended to summon a demon of retribution," he said at last.

"I could have figured that out," Josette muttered beneath her breath. Aelin seemed to ignore the remark as he continued to skim through the pages with a concerned expression.

"These markings are early interpretations of the demonic language, translated from the first immigrants from Haide to Corone, once upon a time. The fallacy was not in the script, but the interpretation." Aelin bit his tongue and glanced about uncertainly. "They were summoning something... else."

Josette shivered at the implication, but pressed him. "What do you mean?" she asked. "How could they be summoning something other than what they meant to? Is that even possible?"

"The danger with summoning magic and profane rituals is limited understanding," Aelin told her, "if you are not unconditionally aware of what you're dealing with, you are prone to mistakes. Theirs was far more grave than a simple misstep of word."

"You're saying that they fumbled the entire meaning of the script?" Josette hardly imagined someone might make such an egregious error. "Someone would have caught it," she protested.

"Stop," Aelin warned her, "stop trying to rationalize this. None of it makes sense. No sensible human being plays with the obscene or dabbles in the summoning of such entities. The fact that they did is a sin far worse than the mistake itself. The fact that they would unleash this at all-"

"You keep saying that," Josette jabbed a finger toward Aelin suddenly with intensity in her eyes, "but you won't tell me what 'this' is. Valth, tell me what we're dealing with, and if we stand any chance against it. What's our plan?"

"Erebos," he whispered the name faintly, hoping that the thing would not come at the sound of its name. "It was... is... an ancient entity, tied to the Old Gods. The Fickle One. It was said he played with the hearts and minds of men and twisted them against one another."

Josette shivered.

"They were played," Aelin went on, "someone must have made this manuscript find its way into their possession. Someone had to gamble that they would wake this up."

"That's enough," the girl asserted sternly. "We don't have time for this. No more pointless conjecture. We need to act." She swallowed her desire to flee. "There's no point in scaring yourself out of it now," she told him, "it's too late for that."

Aelin shut his eyes. "We have to disrupt the link between worlds," he said, "that's our best chance. Sever the link that brought him here, and we might be able to send him back."

"The symbols?" The woman watched her silver haired friend nod slowly in low firelight.

[Josette]

"So we'll destroy all of the symbols," Josette continued, her voice growing stronger as she became more sure of herself. "That shouldn't be too difficult."

"I think you're underestimating what it is we're going up against," her companion countered, his own voice as grave as the expression he wore. With a slight jerk of his head, he motioned toward the pile of papers still clutched in his hand. "Though the script doesn't mention any sort of possession abilities, I'm convinced that a being this powerful would be able to do it pretty easily."

She remembered the lifeless, clouded eyes, and asked, "do you think that was what we saw in the other room?" He nodded, and so did she, as pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "Alright. But I'm not worried, and you shouldn't be either."

"What makes you say that?" He made no attempt to keep the skepticism from his tone, and through the flicking light of his flame, eyes the color of calm waters grew stormy. "If we're not careful, we could get ourselves killed."

"No one is going to be dying today," the swordswoman replied, adopting an air of excruciating calm, and shoving her own reservations deeper within herself. "Except those monsters, but they're dead already." Her grip around her sword's wide hilt tightened, and for his benefit, she added, "we made quick work of the first one, Valth. The rest will be just as easy."

It quickly became apparent that her pep talk had done little to soothe the boy's nerves. Josette sighed. "I will focus on keeping those creatures off of us," she stated, "and you can be in charge of destroying the symbols. Can you do that?"

A moment of tense silence passed before Aelin agreed to her proposal.

"Good." The word had a heavy finality to it, as if the woman had closed the door on all further discussion. They had their orders now, and like good soldiers, they were expected to follow them.

"I'll have to put my light out to use a hotter flame," he informed her, his legs still trembling slightly as they carried him to one of the large room's many symbols. "It won't be quite as bright when it comes back, but it should be powerful enough to take care of the..." he hesitated, not wishing to remind himself what medium was used, "... symbols."

"Fine."

With a soft whoosh of air, Aelin inhaled deeply. His chest, unobstructed by the clunky armor that Josette wore, rose as he fought to channel the necessary energy amidst the heaviness surrounding him. Then, the pair was doused in darkness.

A few seconds, or an eternity later, the shadows fled the new light now shimmering in the mage's hand. This flame burned shades lighter than the other, and as he had promised, it was twice as intense. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted the flame to the wall before him, and watched with mixed parts joy and relief as the crimson stains began to warp.

In his delight, Aelin did not notice the dark figure who had descended upon them during the brief period of darkness. Fortunately for him, Josette had.

It was a low grunt of exertion, the soft hiss of a sword cutting the air, a peculiar squishing sound, and a pair of sequential thuds that tore his gaze from his work. A look of horror crossed his features when he realized what had happened.

Josette stood above a headless corpse, her blade dripping crimson, a few specks sparkling like rubies on her cheek. In a voice as expressionless as the look on her face, she announced, "got him."

[Aelin Valth]

His shaken gaze twisted into bitter distaste. "You're enjoying this too much," he criticized. Splattered crimson oozed down the leather on his arm and Aelin shook his arm to dislodge it. "Let's try to be a little bit more efficient?" The heat in his hand scortched away some of the red on the wall, leaving ashen pock marks in its stead. The pyromancer felt a distortion in the world around him, albeit a subtle one.

Josette wiped the blood from her blade deftly. "I'll do this my way," she replied, "and you do that your way."

He snorted. "Fine," Aelin replied with a growl, "but stop getting gore on me. I'm already going to smell foul when I get out of here, I don't want to look at it, too." Distracted by the presence that permeated the room, the mage held his breath after he finished speaking. He opened his mouth to warn Josette, but she seemed preoccupied with sentry duty.

"Can't handle a little blood?" she asked critcally. "How have you survived this long?"

"Shut up," he hissed.

"What? You're-" she rounded to chastise him again, but met with a stern jab of his index finger.

"No, seriously, shut your mouth. Something's here." Aelin seemed intent on something in the darkness, both eyes set toward the center of the room. "The symbols are creating some kind of temporal distortion," he explained. "I can't tell what they're doing. The fluctuation caused a presence to leak out into the room."

"Are you saying that it slipped out?" she asked, uncertain. Josette looked through the shadows and raised her blade. Movement in the darkness slowly ceased, followed by a low moan. "Speak up, Valth," she demanded, "do we need to move faster?"

In response, the heat in his hand stretched out. Like a wave of pure fire, Aelin lashed out with his flame toward the blackness. Two more bodies appeared when his lash whipped across them, set ablaze by the caress of his fire. Their clothes burst alight, half agonized wails rising from their dried out lips.

He did not stop when they crumbled. "It's strongest here," he told her, "we need to disrupt the ritual as quickly as possible." His stern features did not shift with the words that came next: "it's coming through. Every soul that fades into it's gaping maw brings it across the threshold."

"Gods," Josette murmured.

The arc of flame hissed across the profane symbols and seared them. Blood burned away in a plume of gray smoke, and the groan that came across worlds echoed in his mind. Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssssss...

Aelin's eyes bulged. "Did you hear that?" he snapped.

"Hear what?" Josette turned and raised an eyebrow. "Are you losing your mind now? Valth, come on. Keep it together. We're almost done."

A shiver ripped through Aelin. "No," he whispered. "No, no, no..."

"Valth," Josette spat his name again, "we don't have time for breakdowns. Focus."

Aelin swiped out with the fire again and marred another set of symbols. "No!" he screamed, "you're not going to come to this world. I will not allow you!"

Something registered with Josette in that moment. Her eyes narrowed, and she readied her blade. "I don't know why it's talking to you and not me," she stated, "but that's just fine by me. I have better things to do than talk to demons." A chorus of throaty voices rose around her and Josette smirked. "Even better," she remarked, "all of you at once. That will speed this up considerably."

The conversation in his mind was a bit more one sided. Aelin sat with mouth ajar as the words rumbled in his consciousness, and a tear dripped down his cheek. He tried to call out to warn Josette, but failed miserably.

I am already here.

[Josette]

There were four of them now. The fur-clad figures moved slowly through the archway, stumbling and leaning like a foal on new legs, their bare feet shuffling over the jagged stone. Their mouths were twisted in silent screams, and their arms were outstretched toward the knight as if begging her to offer them some sort of comfort. But there would be none for these foul creatures, so warped by whatever was promised them that they would dabble in the dark art of summoning. Or, perhaps the sensation of her blade across their throats was precisely the comfort that they yearned for; no clue to their thoughts hid within those unseeing eyes. Once, the lifeless gaze had frightened her, but the knowledge that they were dead bodies possessed by an ancient, evil entity somehow made the situation easier to swallow. She now knew what it was that she fought, and regardless of whether they wished for a swift execution, that was exactly what she would deliver.

"Come on then," she taunted, bending slightly at the knees, and lifting her heavy two-handed sword before her with a familiar clink of armor. "Who's first?"

All at once, the small, undead army converged on the waiting warrior. The first, his pale face split by streaks of dried blood, stumbled ahead of the rest of the pack, allowing Josette ample time to remove his head from his body and sidestep his crumbling corpse.

Time seemed to slow, as it always did for Josette in the thick of battle. She lunged at the next creature, and all of her momentum backed the powerful swing that easily sliced layers of skin, flesh, and bone. One head skipped across the dusty floor, and another soon followed.

Only one remained, and he rounded on her with a twisted snarl. Once-white teeth, now stained crimson by his own blood, protruded past dry, cracked lips. It shambled closer, and she let it, her icy glare never wandering from the one thing that kept her from accomplishing her mission. Finally, the muscles that climbed her arms rippled with effort as she lifted her sword, and tightened as the blade met resistance. The head slid along the diagonal cut before tumbling to the earth, and the soft babble of blood replaced the hush that had blanketed the room.

Aelin still sat in the corner of the room, salty tears mingling with the bloodstains on his cheeks, his face still twisted in an expression of child-like terror.

"Valth," Josette barked, chest still rising and falling from the excitement. "We need to go back to the other room and destroy that symbol as well. Do you understand?" Aelin responded with only a blank stare and cold silence. The water mage grit her teeth. "Valth!" This time, something registered within him, and he glanced up at her slowly. "Listen to me. Destroy the symbols from the first room. If they are the last ones, this may be all over. I'll follow you." He nodded slowly, as if within a trance, but his slow climb to his feet satisfied the woman. She would worry about his mental health when they had escaped this hell.

They wasted no time returning to the entrance chamber, and less time destroying what they hoped to be the first of the final symbols. But the moment that Aelin pulled his hand from the wall, his eyes rolled back in his head, and the sound of his wails suddenly filled the room.

"He's here!" The knight bellowed, his entire body trembling like a leaf in the wind.

"Who?" his partner demanded, but the boy had already fallen into a fit of shallow sobs. Without warning, he brushed past Josette, and back into the room from which they had just come. Startled by his sudden outburst, and desperate to stay in the ring of light he provided, she loped after him.

Only seconds later, she slowed to a halt beside Aelin in the center of the room. The expression she wore now reflected his own mask of fear. "Aelin," she began slowly, her voice a strained whisper, "weren't there bodies on the walls just a moment ago?"

[Aelin Valth]

His knees struck the ground loudly, and Josette cringed. "The bodies?" she inquired again, a bit more assertive. "Valth, weren't they...?" She backed slowly toward him as the sound of something sliding across the floor with a wet pop caught her attention. "Uhhhh... Aelin?"

His mouth moved at impossible speed and he babbled inanely as he tore through the pages of manuscript. "It's crossing over," fell from his mouth, a jumbled mass of words, "I can feel it." Aelin gave voice to a grotesque chant as he read the words on the page. "I have to find out how to send it back," he hissed suddenly, "Josette, buy me some time."

"I'm..." she grunted as the thing came into view, a twisted image of its former life. Her maw gaped open, broken at the jaw. The tongue writhed right to left in a slow sway, drool and blood dripping from it in equal parts. "...trying." Josette felt her stomach turn at the sight of a young woman robbed of life. It hit home in a way she hated to admit.

"Focus," Aelin repeated. His eyes did not leave the page as he concentrated on the fire that began to dissipate in his palm. "Focus!" This time, he said the word as much to himself as the girl who stood mere inches from him. The sound of skin sloughing off as it rubbed against the hard floor gave rise to the foul stench of entrails. Aelin scrunched up his face, but refused to surrender to his desire to run.

He dropped the notes as the room grew dark. "The symbols," he reminded himself, "that's our best chance."

"Valth, the fire. We need light. Hurry." Josette tempered the sound of urgency in her voice with the commanding presence that she was renown for among the other initiates. The sounds of manic groaning and the sickening squish of bodies against stone grounded her in their immediate reality.

His arms fell to either side and the pyromancer bowed his head. With a long sigh, the breath left his lungs and swirled rhythmically around his body, a serpentine gush of heat. When it found his hands, Aelin seized the torrent of air and ignited it with his will.

In that moment, it danced for him.

The room grew bright, illuminated by his long wisp of fire. He snapped out toward the wall and ripped the flame across the stagnant sigils. As they rippled and hissed in protest, Aelin twisted his body and coiled the protective heat around both Josette and himself.

The walkers were visible now in every direction he looked. Josette seemed transfixed as he watched her for a moment, thankful for the seconds he bought her with his magic. "Go ahead," he told the girl, "that's the last of the runes. The power is fading from this place. Can you feel it?"

In terms of magic, it felt like a flood.

The room felt agonizingly cold. The profane power wailed in protest as he stripped it away, then slowly faded as its grip on the material world weakened. "I feel it," Josette smiled. "Good work, Aelin," she said. "Now... these are mine."

[Josette]

A low groan gurgled from the depths of the undead woman's throat. Her skin hung limp across her face, and as she shuffled closer, it began to slide off of her high cheek bones. The impossibly white skull that was revealed shone eerily in Aelin's firelight. She couldn't be more than thirteen years old. In the back of her mind, the female knight felt a twinge of something other than urgency.

The chilled air shifted, and she sensed the fire mage moving up behind her. "If you're going to act," he murmured in a voice that betrayed his mounting desperation, "you may want to hurry."

The chorus of moans grew louder as more figures emerged from the darkness. Their movements were far slower than the previous enemies due to their deteriorating bodies, which provided Josette plenty of time to react. But a quick survey of the room revealed a serious problem.

"There are too many," she announced suddenly. "We need to draw them outside where there is more space."

"Is that wise?" But the raven-haired girl had already brushed by him, running for the nearest unobstructed exit.

"We have no choice," she called over her shoulder. "If we stay here, we're sitting ducks." Aelin opened his mouth to protest, but could not find the words. She was, after-all, the better fighter. Without saying anything more, he followed.

The pair had traded bright light for the sinking sun's dying rays, but the fresh air that filled their lungs came as a welcome relief. They slowed twenty feet from the ruins, then turned back to face the crumbling abode.

"Listen," Josette began, cheeks flushed with emotions Aelin could not be certain of. "They are going to have to slow down to funnel through the doors now. I estimate there are about twenty of them, but they're stupid, and falling apart with each step they take. Just see if you can pick a few off as they come out, alright? I'll take most of them on." He nodded, and she concluded with, "just call me if you get yourself into trouble."

A cool wind whipped through the trees, carrying on it the whisper of leaves and the stench of rotting flesh. Josette strode forward, meeting the first trickle of walkers as they shambled into the daylight. It took only one powerful slash of her blade to down the first two crumbling cadavers, but as she ripped through skin and muscle as if it were paper, she felt her stomach turn. This was too easy, and something about it felt off.

But the beasts continued to claw at her, their fingernails gone, their hands twisted in various states of decay. A sideways glance revealed that Aelin had squared off against two walkers of his own, and his palms shimmered with the flames that he commanded. So long as her comrade was in danger, she would put all reservations aside, and do what had to be done.

There were more of them now, and she took a few steps back to make room for another great hack with her heavy sword. A hand caught her arm as she swung back, and when she turned to find the source of the contact, she was met with the sagging face of the initial walker.

Her strangled scream filled the early evening air. The sound startled all who heard it, ally and foe alike, as it came from a woman who rarely raised her voice. It was almost as chilling as the concept that something finally scared Josette Hawkes.

What would happen to her, now that the crusted hand had dragged itself across her bare arm? Her gauntleted hands opened in terror of the unknown, and her weapon was sent skidding down the steep embankment surrounding the ruins. The girl crashed to the leaf-littered ground, the approaching monsters casting long shadows over her prone form.