I follow Two through the dark halls, our footsteps echoing against the cracked black stone. His quarters are larger than I expected, spacious. Though the stone remains chipped and crumbling in places, the furnishings are surprisingly refined. A solid wooden bed sits against the far wall, its frame thick and well-crafted. A round table is positioned at the center of the room, flanked by two sturdy chairs, and a small hearth crackles nearby, casting warm light across the floor.

  Two strides in ahead of me, grabbing a clay pitcher and two goblets from a nearby shelf. He seats himself at the table and gestures for me to join him. I hesitate at the threshold, then step forward and take the seat across from him, as he pours a drink for both of us.

  It's been a long time since I've sat with him like this... about ten years.

  He passes me a goblet, red wine, from the look and smell of it. He takes a slow sip before speaking, his voice casual. "How's Mother?"

  I shrug. "The same as she always is."

  A small smile twitches at the corner of his mouth, and he nods. "And I trust you haven't told her I'm here?"

  Shaking my head, I reply. "No. I haven't."

  "Good," he says simply, taking another drink. The firelight flickers against his face, making the years between us feel suddenly thinner. He always felt so much older, but looking at him now... his features are fairly similar to mine.

  I glance down at the wine in my hand, then back up at him. "So, why are you here? What are you doing working for a bunch of bandits? Taking orders from someone like Edric?"

  Two fixes me with a cold glare. "Careful, brother. I follow no man. Not Edric, or any other."

  He leans back, cradling the goblet in one hand. "I came to offer him my assistance. That’s all. What he chooses to do with it... well, that’s his business."

  I finally take a sip of my drink. The wine is surprisingly smooth, rich with the taste of dark berries and just enough warmth to chase off the chill in my chest.

  "Why would you offer your help to brigands?" I ask, voice low. "Zaenith would be furious if she saw you mingling with their kind."

  His eye twitches at the mention of her name. But he covers it quickly with a shrug. "Mother can feel however she likes. She can't stop me. No one can."

  I press again. "But why help Edric? What's he to you?"

  He ignores the question and asks his own. "Tell me brother, what do you know of the kingdoms beyond Luminon's borders?"

  I shrug, a little confused. "Not much. Mistvale didn’t get many travellers, and you know Zaenith kept us isolated when we still lived with her."

  Two sighs, shaking his head. "Then don’t ask me such questions. There’s no point explaining things to someone who's still blind to the state of the realm."

  Hmph, still a prick... but maybe he's right. I should learn more.

  Two studies me closely, his gaze narrowing with scrutiny. "...You've grown. You're taller, and finally put on a bit of muscle too...." He sniffs the air and nods "Yes... I can smell her draught on you. Finally accepted your place in the family, have you?"

  My lip curls slightly at that, but I give a small nod. "Yes."

  He leans forward, curious. "And what changed your mind?"

  I hesitate, breath held. Then I let it out and throw caution aside.

  This is why I’m here.

  "There's a demon hunting me."

  His expression doesn’t change, but I see the way his grip tightens slightly on the goblet.

  He nods slowly. "I see. You've been busy."

  He pauses, fingers tapping the goblet, thinking. "What kind of demon?"

  "He called himself Vael the Many," I reply. "Big. Can manifest more of himself. Many, I suppose you'd say."

  Two rubs his chin, frowning. "Never heard of him. But if what you say is true, best deal with it quickly. Demons are exceptional hunters. If it’s after you, it likely already knows where you are."

  Yes… but as long as that wolf hasn’t fallen, I have a chance. The Oracle said it would fight until winter has ended. I have time.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Curious to the extent of Two’s knowledge, I ask. "Why do you think it hasn't attacked yet?"

  Two shrugs. "Afraid of Mother, perhaps. Or perhaps there's something in Ravencroft that unsettles it. It's an old place, older than most remember. But whatever's holding it back won’t last forever. It'll come. You’d best be ready."

  I nod, what he says is true obviously. Even so a shudder runs through me at the thought. I glance into the firelight and murmur, "Will you help me face it?"

  He downs the last of his drink and sets the goblet aside. "I have my own concerns.”

  My shoulders droop at his refusal, one of the few hopes I had dashed.

  But I can’t give up with just that… there must be some way to convince him.

  “Just keep taking Mother's elixir. I assume you brought some with you?"

  I nod. "Yeah. But it's almost gone."

  He hums thoughtfully. "Mmm, no matter. You'll soon move on from the giant anyway."

  I raise a brow. "What does that mean?"

  He waves the question away, standing and adjusting his belt. "Just another potion. I'll let Zaenith bore you with the minutia. Though I'll tell you this, your body will be far less fragile, a valuable tool if you're to face a demon."

  He knows a lot.... of course he would. He's gone through the full process himself.

  But then.... why does he seem so much like himself? Perhaps its just that he's always been cold and I don't notice the difference.

  Or perhaps.... it's just me.

  "Brother.... about Zaenith's potions. The augmentation.... our hearts. Do you-"

  Two holds up a hand, stopping me before I can ask. "This is not a conversation to be had now. Not here. Perhaps when our business is concluded, I shall grant you your answers. But not before."

  He strides toward the door without another word, pausing only to glance over his shoulder. "Now, come. Let's get to the reason I called you here."

  I quickly catch up and walk beside him through the corridor, the stone cold underfoot.

  Without warning, he snatches my right hand, rough fingers clamping around my wrists. I instinctively try to pull away, but it's useless, I'd have better luck overpowering a bear.

  He pulls off my glove and examines the scars along my palm, his eyes narrowing with something like interest. "Magic," he murmurs. "An interesting choice."

  I glance around, then hiss under my breath, "Keep your voice down."

  He chuckles, not bothering to lower his own. "Why? You think these faithless scum would shun you for it?"

  I say nothing, lips pressed tight.

  He laughs again, quieter this time. "They would. But Edric would see the value. As do I."

  His gaze lingers on the scars, then shifts up to my face. "Although... you in particular learning such a thing is peculiar...."

  I frown. "Why?"

  But he only waves the question off, releasing my wrist. "Perhaps I’ll tell you later. For now, it presents to us an opportunity."

  We descend a set of stairs, stone slick with moisture, the air growing colder, heavier. The deeper we go, the stronger the stink of iron... of old blood... rises. Groans echo faintly from beyond.

  Eventually we reach underground, through to a dimly lit cavern. Chains hang from the ceiling, propping up several men. A few sway in place, partially skinned, twitching at least, so I assume they're still alive. Others hang limp. Their bodies are carved with runes, some I recognize from Lucien's scroll.

  I whisper, "Where are we?"

  "Maldor's laboratory," Two replies flatly. "He set it up before inviting the brigands to the fort."

  I step carefully, keeping distance from the writhing figures. "What’s he doing?"

  Two spits. "Magic."

  Something shifts above me.

  I glance up.... and leap back with a curse, stumbling hard.

  F-Fuck.... is that...?

  A massive spider clings to the stone, legs long and thin as blades, its body bloated and glistening with moisture. It stares at me, eyes twitching in rapid, unnatural rhythm.

  Just like Mistvale.... oh hells...

  Then another drops from a support beam. And another. They move without sound, their limbs tapping stone like bone on bone. The closest one inches forward, then halts.

  Two steps past me, rigidly. The spiders recoil, parting in silence as he walks through them, his face twisted in visible disgust.

  I scramble after him, not wanting to be alone with the creatures. "Why are we here?" I whisper.

  Two doesn’t look back. "Maldor's an agent of Ashkar Veyrn, the kingdom beyond the southern mountains, sent to support Edric."

  "Why?"

  "They will soon attack Lumenon, if they haven't already. Maldor’s been planted here to sow instability in the border regions. To divide the Empress's attention."

  We step around a cracked vat leaking some dark, thick liquid. The scent of blood is stronger now.

  "Like... supporting Edric?"

  "Exactly so. What better way to distract Lumenon than a warlord growing to the north?" He says with a smile.

  My eyes widen slightly. "Is that why you’re here?"

  Two just chuckles, refusing to respond.

  Hmph, I suppose I won't get it out of him that easily.

  I turn away from him and instead glance around, eyes roaming across the familiar runes etched into walls, bodies, and barrels. "So the rumors that he's a sorcerer... they're true?"

  Two nods. "He is."

  I gesture warily toward the skittering shapes. "And these spiders? They serve him?"

  He considers, watching one twitch its legs as it crawls over a corpse. "Effectively. Him, or whatever foul god he worships."

  He motions to our path ahead, where more spiders cluster near great barrels, revealing even greater horror. Some cracked open, spilling their contents. Severed heads, genitals, arms... all of them carved with the same spiraling runes, grotesque and precise.

  The smell of death thickens almost unbearably, a humid rot that clings to the inside of my nostrils like wet mold. I've scavenged corpses on the road, picked through bloated bodies in the marshes, but nothing like this...

  My stomach clenches violently, and a bitter surge of bile rises up my throat. My vision wavers, and for a heartbeat I think I might actually vomit.

  Steadying myself I swallow hard, trying to force down the bile. "Is he here? Is that where we’re going?"

  Two nods. "He is. And as a budding sorcerer, you’re going to apprentice under him."

  My heart almost stops. I look around again, the horror of the place pressing in, clinging to my skin.

  He wants me to apprentice... here?

  Lucien was one thing... but I'm not sure this is the kind of magic I want to learn...

  Why would Two even want me to...

  Two wraps a giant arm around my shoulder, pulling me in with deceptive warmth. His lips move in close, voice low and cold. "And when he trusts you... when the moment comes... you'll kill him for me."

  I freeze, breath caught, but he leans in closer still, the heat of his breath against my skin.

  "Because if you don't, I'll kill you."