"Conquer it if you have to."

Kira laughed, her veins pulsing with pure thrill as she tried once more to stab at Seamus Halvorson. He parried the invisible blade without so much thought, almost as if he could see the damn thing. Naomi stepped in right after, possibly to take advantage of any opening Seamus had exposed. Unfortunately for the heretic, Kira saw right through it. Her body bent in an awkward dodge, Naomi's katana hitting nothing but her tattered cloak.

All three of the fighters skidded to a stop, the brief moment shared between them passing like an hour in their perspectives. Seamus pushed immediately after recovering, his iron blade a blur as he tried once more to behead Kira. Kira parried with her invisible sword just as Naomi tried again to get her off guard.

'Push.'

Kira cast a spell and was shoved back by a small vortex of wind, which safely moved her out of the way. Naomi's sword missed by just a hair, her eyes watching Kira with surprise. Kira just grinned at her, watching with some level of glee as Seamus turned his attention toward someone else.

Naomi barely managed to block the quick stab that Seamus had thrust toward her, the iron tip of his sword scraping against her enchanted weapon. Naomi redirected the attack and went for the offensive, but Seamus was too fast. He had already repositioned himself not even a moment after the clash of blades, throwing another lightning-fast strike toward the Outlander.

Kira dismissed her blade as she watched, almost wanting to just sit around and enjoy the show before her. Almost. Three slashes went toward the two, which nearly did its job in slicing them up. Naomi had seen it coming, and so she kicked Seamus away, saving his ass before she tried to do the same. The Outlander wasn't fast enough, fortunately. Kira watched with delight as two of the slashes struck her torso and left arm, red crimson coming out in confirmation.

She rushed toward Naomi in a hurry, her hands reaching out for her. Killing her was obviously her objective here, but getting a glimpse of her memories? Kira salivated at the thought of ripping through the Outlander's mind to experience everything she had gone through. Just a kiss. That was all that was needed…

And just as Kira reached Naomi, her hand outstretched to grab the woman by her collar, the Outlander blinked out of existence. Kira faltered, her smile disappearing as she came face to face with Seamus, who had instantly appeared out of nowhere and dodged her grasp. He stared at her with dull green eyes, almost as if he was half asleep.

He swung, and Kira only barely managed to block the attack with her left arm, which did little to protect. The iron blade cut right into her forearm, the nicked edge finding purchase on bone. Kira cursed as she cast Push, her eyes flaring as she threw her slashes point-blank at the young man.

Her invisible blades hit nothing but air, which whipped around the young woman like a hasty breeze. Naomi appeared out of her right side, her Beholder eye glowing brightly. Kira raised her hand to cast another slash but was interrupted when the Outlander grabbed her forearm, her other hand slamming a palm against the woman's chest.

Kira gasped as air rushed out of her lungs; the wind literally knocked her out of her. She stumbled in place, her vision blurred as she watched Naomi reach into the thin fucking air, her hands producing that curved sword of hers. Kira could see how the Outlander's wounds were already healing, a result of some magical interference. Possibly a potion she downed in between teleporting.

Kira couldn't help but stifle a laugh in that second of eye contact. That heretic thought herself sooo smart, did she? Well, there was always a moment for humbling overconfidence.

Kira cast Mend as she backed away from Naomi's attempted thrust, the wound on her left arm knitting itself together. She pressed her hands together as she cast Fly, her body lifting from the ground, far from attack. Naomi seemed to realize what was happening, for her left eye flared something fierce. Kira grinned, recognizing what she was about to do. She had seen the dagger Naomi had so covertly dropped.

"Storm of…." Kira started slowly, her hands producing false runes. Naomi's eye flashed, and she disappeared, the wind around her rushing in the vortex. Kira quickly spun, her own eyes flaring as she sent three powerful slashes at the glowing dagger.

'I got you now.'

Instead of being met with the sight of an eviscerated heretic, however, Kira found herself in blinding pain. She gasped, her eyes widening as three deep slashes cut at her arm and torso, each one bringing about an agony she hadn't felt in years.

'What? What just…'

Kira blinked and realized that her surroundings had drastically changed. She looked down at her chest, where runes burned onto her tattered cloak. Naomi appeared in front of her right after, her Beholder Eye wide open as its pointed star contracted and flared.

'She switched places with me! She can do that?!'

At that moment, Kira's heart thumped, and for the first time in years, she felt the strange sensation of abject fear.

It was exhilarating.

The hut was silent, save for the heavy breathing that echoed from the Shaman, her burning glare locked onto Eilif.

"Dahlia," James whispered, breathless. He looked at her feet, where hasty runes were traced in dark scarlet.

'She used her blood for the ritual,' he realized. 'But how did she survive that stab?'

"James!" Dahlia called, voice strained. He snapped out of his stupor and noticed Eilif straining against the binds. There was the sound of something snapping, and James watched with dawning horror as the immortal slipped from the mist, his left arm flailing uselessly.

"Summon Ice," James cast quickly, his left hand outstretched toward the air before him. A long dagger made of ice appeared within his grasp, its frosty layer breaking as it met Eilif's steel. James pushed him back, icy knife slashing.

Eilif took the hits head-on, his open dagger going for a thrust at the Jarl's throat. James felt something take control within that second, his feet forcibly side steeping to avoid the attack. A presence filled his head, one familiar like an old friend.

'Faust, just in time,' James thought to the spirit as he blocked the follow-up stab Eilif threw.

'I…I apologize for my behavior earlier,' the Centurion said as he forced James to move his dagger in position to block another slash. James and Eilif contested blades then, the ice knife straining against the steel dagger

'Not the best time,' James thought back. 'Let's just focus on taking this bastard down, got it?'

Faust responded by empowering James in that moment of struggle, the Centurion's strength flowing into him. Even if it was for just a second, it was more than enough for James to win the brief contest, his ice dagger breaking as it sent Eilif's own weapon flying out of reach.

Before Eilif could even make his next move, Dahlia's Shadow Bind came for the man like creeping specters, their black, misty tendrils constraining the immortal man. Eilif cursed, his head swiveling to Dahlia.

"You're all going to have to do better than—"

James didn't give him the chance to finish his sentence. He rushed forward and punched Eilif, his knuckles jabbing against the immortal's throat. There was a gagging sound, and Eilif faltered in his struggle.

"I'm not done with you yet! Carapace!" James yelled as he landed another punch, his fists cracking against the immortal man's jaw just as Carapace wrapped its warmth around him. Eilif sagged a bit from the hit but still tried to move, to fight back. He failed.

"You killed my crew," James growled as he kicked at Eilif's knee, sending the man stumbling back. His skull flared with a hot anger that could melt snow, the hut's interior lit by its bluish glow.

"You killed Farin and Oscor! Killed Horuk!" James shouted. With another punch, he struck Eilif's chest, his fist burning as Carapace strained against his knuckles. He stepped in closer, his arm pulling back.

"You even tried to kill Dahlia!" Another punch, this one sending the air rushing out of the Immortal's lungs. Eilif gasped but recovered, the immortal man somehow managing to free one of his hands from the shadowy mist. He swung at James, who saw it coming a mile away.

"But you never managed to kill me, did you?" James said as he ducked under the swing. Teeth clacked together in a loud resonance as he struck an uppercut. Eilif staggered away, his back hitting the stone chimney of the firepit.

"It's not because of luck or even my bond with Faust. No, Eilif, I'm alive because I've seen the future!" James threw another punch at Eilif, harder this time. "I've seen my fates!" he shouted. "And none of them, none of them, included you!"

He would continue his onslaught of jabs and punches at the immortal man, every kick and strike bringing forth a rage that he had held in for so long.

The Shadow Bind held Eilif in place long after he stopped struggling. Long after James' fists became numb with the repeated strikes, the heat in his body growing as Carapace strained to keep his knuckles protected. It didn't even break when James threw one final strike toward Eilif, his Carapace shattering as he crushed the man's skull under his knuckles.

Eilif's body went limp within the hold of those shadowy tendrils, his head hanging forward. He twitched slightly, black blood leaking from his lips. James panted as he regained his breath, his lungs taking in the chill air. He glanced down at his right hand, which ached with sharp pains. It was already healing, the exposed bone of his knuckles resetting themselves before the skin regrew over them in a small trail of smoke.

'He's coming back,' Faust said, 'Whatever you're going to do, do it now.'

James nodded, his focus going back to Eilif. The wounds on his body were already healing, his broken arm already popping back into place. With a deep breath, James stepped forward and placed his left hand upon Eilif's head, where the 'fatal' wound was already healing.

He focused his will and began to drain.

Naomi could feel her reserves draining with every switch and every jump, her left eye already bleeding from overuse. Kira's laugh danced all around the Outlander, her voice echoing all around like some fucked up nightmare.

'But it's not a nightmare,' Naomi thought, her sword swinging toward the empty air before her.

'Dispel.'

Kira appeared there a second later, invisibility failing her. The katana's edge managed to cut through her hand, but not before the bitch was flung back by some wind spell, the humid air brushing past Naomi in a rush. She cursed and debated on throwing a dagger if only to try and finish this worthless fight.

'No. Save your reserves. Wait for the right moment.'

Naomi only had four slots left. Even with the reduced cost of spells granted to her by the Beholder Eye, there was only so much she could do. So, she had to stay on the defensive from both Kira and him.

Seamus came out of her right, sword flashing toward Naomi. Instincts took over the Outlander, her katana barely parrying the attack. She redirected the man's strike to the side, her pommel raising for a nonlethal strike. Seamus somehow managed to sense the attack, for his head whipped back to avoid the pommel hit. Naomi blinked and was treated to an elbow to her chest. She gasped and stepped back just in time to avoid a slash that would've gutted her had she not moved.

She had no idea why Seamus was on a mission to kill literally everyone in his line of sight, especially her.

'Well, the last time we met, I didn't exactly leave him on friendly terms,' Naomi thought as she redirected another thrust, her katana scraping against the young man's blade. Still, he had to have noticed they were fighting the same enemy, right?

Naomi ended up shoving Seamus back again, saving his life from an invisible slash that carved a divot in the cobbles. Kira was above them both, watching as she sent down more of those cursed attacks. Naomi dodged and weaved between the strikes, already accustomed to their pattern and the way the air filled with static whenever they were formed.

Once the third attack hit the ground, Kira dropped down and headed straight for Naomi. Naomi brought her katana up, which flared as it struck the invisible blade that was aimed at her throat. She gritted her teeth as they contested blades, the crazed woman in front of her smiling at the confrontation. Naomi forced Kira's weapon aside, her katana thrusting forth. Kira dodged it, her reflexes unnatural and jerky.

"Shit!" Naomi tried to redirect, but it was too late. Pain stabbed at her as Kira's invisible sword ran her through the abdomen, its composition falling apart not long after the impalement. Naomi gasped as something electric came over her, the shock making her seize up for a moment.

Kira pounced on the opportunity, her hand reaching for Naomi. Seamus saved her life then, the young man appearing as a yellowish blur, his Haste spell working overtime to increase his speed. His sword flashed, and Naomi watched as Kira was promptly stabbed through her right shoulder, her eyes widening as Seamus shoved her back.

Naomi soon found herself able to move, her grip tightening on her sword's wrapped pommel. She rushed forth, accompanying Seamus as he tried to finish off Kira. He wasn't doing well, even with his magical speed. Naomi could see how his Haste spell was faltering, its magic running its course.

'Just keep going! We can finish this!' she prayed as she swung at Kira's attempted stab, her katana shattering the invisible blade that had formed in the woman's hand. Seamus seemed to finally notice the Outlander's intentions, for he continued to slash and slice at Kira with his sword.

"Annoying—" Kira was cut off when Naomi cut clean through her left arm, her katana's runes burning with the magical enhancement. Seamus followed up with another successful stab, this one striking the woman's thigh. Kira faltered in her retreat, her feet stumbling as the two descended upon her.

Naomi stabbed at whatever she could, not caring if it was vital or not. She just needed this bitch to stay down. Kira tried to fight back with a slash, but her aim was off, and Seamus and Naomi didn't let her get it back. They kept hacking and slashing, even when the woman was clearly healing her flesh with whatever dark magic she had in store.

Eventually, Kira would get a lucky strike. Seamus faltered in one of his stabs, and he paid for it in blood. A slash struck his chest, throwing him back. His Haste ran out then, his limbs suddenly failing him for a moment. Kira pounced, her eyes flashing as the wind threw the young man back. Naomi took the chance to finish this fight, her katana flashing as she stabbed.

Blood spilled, and Kira's skull jerked back violently. Naomi panted as she was treated to the sight of Kira's grinning face, her eyes watching the Outlander with amusement.

'No…'

Naomi's strike had gone off target, and she had only managed to stab into Kira's scalp. Her body failed then, the stab wound from earlier finally giving in. The Outlander collapsed onto the hot cobbles, her chest heaving as she tried to regain her breath.

"So so fun," Kira muttered, her own voice sounding just as Naomi felt. "I haven't been so close to death in years! Ah, what a feeling! Thank you, Naomi, for the experience." She stepped over the Outlander, who could only watch helplessly. "I'll make sure to savor your memories once I'm done with him."

'No… No, no, no. I can't lose to her. Not to her.'

Naomi tried to crawl to her fallen weapon, which seemed so far away. Her body ached with every movement, no matter how minor. In the end, she could only manage a pathetic few inches before she turned to Seamus, who was knocked out cold once more.

Kira stopped at his body, her legs bending as she knelt next to him. Naomi watched with slow confusion as the woman grabbed his hair, forcing him to face her. Seamus' nose was bloodied, and his eyes were half open. He tried to speak, it seemed, his mouth moving. No sound came out, just a trickle of blood accompanied by a short cough.

Kira smiled before she pressed her lips against Seamus' own.

There were no flashes of images. No quick view of the man's past. James only found himself standing in the familiar oblivion of the mindscape. White mist flowed around his knees, obscuring the inch-high water that made up this place. Standing across from him was a man clad in black, an unbroken mask obscuring his features.

James could feel something in his chest tighten at the sight of the man. The way Eilif stared at him, those unfeeling goggles showing no emotion. It was as if the man could see the Outlander's soul laid bare.

"You're not the first to try this," Eilif said, his gravelly voice echoing in the mindscape. "James Holter."

"This is insane," James muttered. "What exactly are you?"

"Immortal," Eilif answered. He raised a gloved hand in front of him, the fingers slow and stiff as they tried to form a fist. "I am immortal, James. What part of that do you not get? I've trained to shield my mind from such intrusions and have experienced nearly everything life has to offer."

"Everything?"

Eilif nodded. "I have seen kingdoms burn and rise from their ashes. I've met men who grew into heroes before deciding tyranny over freedom. I've fostered warriors who've died and were forgotten, my life far exceeding theirs." He slumped in place, goggles facing down toward the mists. "I've experienced suffering far beyond a mortal's comprehension. Enough to make anyone insane."

The fog around them shifted, and James could see, no feel, the discourse within this place. Anger, grief, and even joy lingered around in the mists. They curled and reached for Eilif, who didn't react to their prodding.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"Your soul is shattered," James said, realizing the implications. He took a step closer to Eilif, who just stood there, the mists consuming bit by bit. "So why do you keep going?" he asked. "You, out of anyone, should know pain. So why do you keep doing this shit? Why do you keep inflicting it?!"

Eilif turned to James, the mist reaching up to his goggles. "Why do you?"

"What?"

"Why do you inflict suffering?" Eilif asked. "I can see right through you, James. I can see what you're thinking, what you're feeling."

The world around him shuddered and shook like an earthquake was happening. Next thing he knew, a snowstorm had consumed James and EIlif both. James blinked, his eyes focusing on the snow mound that had appeared out of nowhere. He stared at the sight of a dead man half buried in the ice, blacked hand outstretched in mercy.

"You killed Ivan Falk, did you not?" Eilif said. "Quite violently, I may add. And those orcs…" orc bodies appeared all around the mindscape, each one varying in stages of gore and death. "You basically tore right through them."

"They… They were monsters," James argued. "What I did, I did—"

"What of Sorcerer Darius? The man you killed in Vindis," Eilif said. The snowstorm was whisked away alongside the orc corpses. Now, James was faced with the sorcerer he had killed during Midsommar, the one he never meant to stab. More bodies came after that, marauders and lumen soldiers alike.

"Ah, how about Arthur Clarke?" Eilif asked. James turned to him, watching as a perfect recreation of Delphine's Apostle was made, complete with a gaping chest wound. "An Outlander like yourself, doing what he needed to do save Azura and seal its ley lines. You killed him, knowing full well of his intentions. You did it to save your friends but ended up dooming Valenfrost to something far worse."

"I…I—"

"You did all those things," Eilfi whispered. "And you ask me why I do the same thing? The answer is simple, yet far beyond both of our stations. We are human. Human creatures that cling to what they think is dear. Even I do this, despite what has happened to me, despite the centuries of wallowing and grieving. Despite knowing that everything will eventually turn to ash, my body forever cursed to walk this realm for eternity. I am human. I cling to the idea of something dear to me, that maybe, perhaps, I can return to the life I once had."

James just stared at Eilif, whose body was fully consumed by mist. As he stared at him, things began to click bit by bit.

"You're not after me," he realized aloud, his thoughts echoing from his lips. "You're not after Yorktown. There's something else… Something more."

Eilif did not respond. His misty form just wavered there, his featureless head staring at James for an uncomfortable amount of time. Before he could say anything, the mist dispersed, and the Immortal was gone, alongside everything he had manifested. James was just alone now in the mindscape, staring at the spot where Eilif once stood, voice caught in his throat.

Mist just swirled there, tendrils grabbing at nothing before they turned their focus onto him. James felt his blood run cold as it extended over to his knees, grabbing at him with icy cold tendrils that somehow gripped him.

He tried to pull out, to extract himself from this place. It was futile.

"I wonder. What else have you failed to confront about your own past?"

EIlif's voice echoed in the mindscape, prompting James to look around for him. No sight of him. Instead, he saw how the horizon changed from pitch oblivion to a midnight blue, foreign stars peppering the expanse that surrounded him.

He soon realized that those 'foreign' stars were identical to the ones in Earth's night sky. Sterile white walls sprouted from either side of James, forming a hallway around him. The ceiling came after, as well as the tiled floor, blocking the night sky save for a long window on his right. Darkness surrounded the young Jarl, whose heart began to thump with fear.

"No… No, no, no," he muttered as fluorescent lights on the ceiling began to turn on, one by one. James could only watch with silent horror as all around him, his personal hell was formed.

Kira found herself floating in darkness. This was new to her. Usually, when she peered into the souls of men, she'd find herself amidst their mixed memories and emotions. An entire life's worth of experiences all wrapped into one sole trip through their mind.

Seamus was not like other men. Instead, his mind was far more different than what Kira was used to. If she didn't know better, she'd think she was in Eilif's own head. She extended a hand toward the darkness, almost as if it were some sort of curtain or veil she could pull off. It wasn't.

"I can't… I couldn't…"

A voice called out from the void, and Kira found herself standing upright, the darkness becoming solid beneath her. She looked around, her eyebrow raising as she to distinguish the voice's origin.

"Couldn't let anyone hurt you…"

The voice echoed once more, and Kira followed its source. It wasn't Seamus' voice, no. It was someone else's. A woman.

"I'm so sorry… Please…"

Kira wasn't easily unsettled. She had witnessed horrors and had faced death countless times. Yet something about this voice disturbed her. The way this woman sounded as if she were on the verge of tears, her words cracking after every sentence. Like she was grieving.

"Please forgive me… for what I did."

Someone materialized out of the void in front of Kira. It was a woman, the speaker, she presumed. She wore a modest green dress with silver embroideries sewn into it. Jewelry hung from around her neck and was even present in her red hair, which flowed down her shoulders.

The woman was not facing Kira. She was on her knees, her hands clutching onto something near her chest. Her focus was somewhere else, somewhere beyond the blackness of this space.

"I only wanted to protect you… To save you," the stranger muttered. She froze as Kira took a step toward her, her head turning to look at the young woman. Kira froze, unsure of what the hel was happening.

"You," the woman said. Her eyes were a cold, piercing blue, their gaze seeming as if they could look into souls. Her face had beauty to it, with red crimson lips contrasting with her fair skin. She looked almost like royalty. Almost. Kira recognized the small silver band around the woman's head, which marked her as a Jarl's wife.

"Do I know you?" Kira asked, brow furrowing.

"No," the woman said. She stood up, eyes still transfixed on Kira's own. "But I know about you. And I know that you're here to take something from Seamus. I can't stop you. But I can show you."

"Show me what?"

The strange woman stepped forward, eyes burning into Kira. Before Kira could even ask the woman about what the hel she was doing, the world around her shifted and changed.

And she saw everything.

Bleach. James always hated that smell. The hospital always stank of it, like they were trying to cover the smell of dead people. He looked around the sterile hallway, which was barren of life. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, the night sky a blank oblivion outside the window.

"Not this," James said. "Anything but this."

Eilif did not say anything. Yet James knew the Immortal was watching this memory. Experiencing it as a silent spectator. Not unlike how James viewed Faust's old battles. For a moment, he considered not going through with the memory. Perhaps he could just stay in place, avoiding the conclusion of this horrible recollection.

Yet even as the thought crossed his mind, the mist forced him to take a step. James gritted his teeth, his palms already growing slick with sweat. It seemed like there was no choice in the matter. He took a deep breath and forced himself to take the next step, his hand waving away the mist.

"Just press forth…" he whispered as he walked down the hall, which began to extend before him. His boots swished through the ankle-high water, which seemed to be the only constant in this accursed recreation. As he continued deeper into the hospital, figures of mist began to appear, their shapes vaguely representing the doctors and nurses.

James just kept walking, ignoring the misty shapes. Eventually, he would reach his destination. The hallway ended abruptly in front of him, the walls and ceiling no longer forming beyond a certain point. He took in a deep breath, his eyes focusing on the doorway to his right. The door was wide open, showcasing a dim room full of people. Not misty shapes. But people.

He froze at the sight, his stomach twisting around itself. He wanted nothing to do with this memory. Not today, not ever. James tried to turn away, his knees already growing weak at the thought of experiencing the grief all over again. Yet the mist forced him back, tendrils guiding him into the room. He was doomed to relive this.

As James stumbled into the hospital room, his eyes caught the whiteboard.

Today is: February 15th, 2006

Patient: HOLTER, E.

"James?" a soft voice called to him. "Where have you been?"

James turned around, and his mouth went dry at the sight of his mother. Her blue eyes watched him, her gaze full of worry, and her lips tightly formed into a frown. She kept her hair tied into a tight bun, a few rogue strands of black hair hanging over her brow every now and then. Marie Holter looked healthy here despite the redness in her eyes and the clear lack of sleep that showed within those dark blue irises of hers.

Her sister, James' aunt, Dina Holter, stood right next to her, much younger and with less gray in her short hair. They both looked so real. Nothing like the misty figures James had passed by in the hall.

"What did I tell you about running off?" his mother berated, her hand grabbing James' wrist. "Especially today of all days. How could you—"

"Please let the boy be," a soft, weak voice called out. James felt a lump grow in his throat at the sound of his father. It had been so long since he had heard the man's voice, even if it came from his final moments. James could feel his mom's grip loosen around his wrist, her eyes turning to the man she loved.

His father lay in the hospital bed, his eyes sullen and his arms thinner than what James thought possible. His breathing was ragged and barely audible through the beeping of machines and the soft groaning of vacuum tubes. James took a small step to his father, his lips moving as he tried to speak. No words came.

"My boy…" his father muttered, his faint green eyes sparking with a bit of life. He grinned weakly. "My son. I don't blame you for not wanting to see…" he gestured toward himself. "This. Truth be told, I wouldn't ever want to see my own father wither away."

"N-No," James forced out finally. "It's not that! It's just…"

"Don't fret," his father said. He still kept that grin despite the pain. Despite the agony of his bones and lungs failing him. James remembered what the doctor had told him. It was as if his father suddenly had glass bones and paper skin. That was the way it was explained to him back then. Back when he was just a child.

He never bothered to look up what killed his father. Perhaps it had been out of fear of finding out if it was genetic or something. Or maybe, most possibly, he wanted nothing more than to forget what had happened. To bury his grief and fear deep within.

His father's grin faltered a little as he took in another ragged breath, his green eyes gaining a new sense of life as he examined James.

'Don't grieve," he said. "Don't be scared. Just remember what I told you."

James felt his breath catch at the sound of those words.

"Keep making that next step," his father continued, his words forced as he spoke. "Keep pressing forth. Regardless of what happens. I will always be with you, James. I promise."

And right then, the memory froze. James blinked, his surroundings slowly dissipating to mist. Eilif's voice sounded out after, trembling with either anger or confusion.

"Impossible. This is… This is impossible!"

Before James could even process what was said, the world around him broke.

Naomi gasped awake. Her consciousness returned to her in the form of her wounds mending together. They did so faster than she naturally expected, her body brimming with adrenaline as it eased the pain away. She blinked and found herself staring into the gaze of someone she expected dead.

"That will be the last time I ever heal you," Malik said, his jaw somehow perfectly intact. He rubbed at his right hand, which was smoking and crackling, the skin blackened like it was charred.

"You… You healed me?" Naomi muttered. She struggled to sit up, her mended wound bringing about sharp pangs.

"That I did," Malik said as he stood straight. He gave the Outlander a look. "You never thought to tell me about your… affliction?"

"I didn't expect you to ever get close enough to find out," Naomi said. She grunted as she turned toward Seamus, expecting to find him either dead or missing. It was neither.

"He was fine when I got here," Malik said as he hobbled to the young man. Seamus was lying down, not a wound on him despite the bloody and torn clothes he still wore. "Half expected that bitch to be using him as bait. Apparently not."

"Wait, so where is Kira?" Naomi asked, panic settling in.

"Hell if I know," Malik admitted. "She was gone by the time I recovered enough to come help. I suppose she ran off, but I can't fathom a reason why."

Naomi forced herself to stand up, her breathing labored as she made her way to Seamus.

"Divination," she cast, her hand outstretched toward the young man. Malik backed away as golden light appeared from Naomi's fingers, their focus on Seamus. In a moment, they surrounded the young man, encompassing him in their glow before finally dissipating.

"Well?" Malik asked.

"Nothing," Naomi said. "She left—"

Something flared within Naomi, her gasp caught in her throat as her Divination spell finally weeded out something. She looked at Seamus, where light began to shine from his forehead. She stared at the young man, unsure if she was seeing things.

"Is that…" Malik said.

"It's a curse," Naomi confirmed. She focused on the burning sigil that was branded upon Seamus' forehead. It glowed a fierce red, the glyphs far different than any Naomi had encountered.

"I didn't even notice it," Malik muttered.

"Neither did I," Naomi said. "The Divination spell almost missed it."

Both of them stared at the curse glyph, which pulsed and ebbed like a beating organ. Naomi found herself wincing at her Beholder eye, the barbs of which shifted uncomfortably at the sight.

'You don't recognize it… do you?' She thought.

Something within the demonic organ whispered to her.

It is not Hashykk's mana.

"This isn't from Kira," Naomi realized aloud. "Is it?"

"What?" Malik looked at her. "Did the Eye tell you? Well, if it's not, then who is it from?"

"That's the thing," Naomi whispered. "I have no idea."

James recoiled from Eilif's body, breath returning to his lungs in a gasp. The Immortal man had a similar reaction, his body jolting back awake as soon as James' touch left him.

'James?' Faust asked. 'What just happened? I didn't sense anything when you started draining.'

"I… I—"

"You are not supposed to exist," Eilif's voice called out. James froze and turned to the Immortal.

Eilif had broken out of his binds, the shadowy tendrils dissipating around him. James turned to Dahlia, who was on her knees, chest heaving with exertion. She looked at him, breathless and fearful.

James could feel Faust tense within, his left hand already forming ice. He looked at Eilif, who staggered forth, facial features hidden in the shadows of the hut.

"You," he repeated. "Are not supposed to EXIST!"

"What the fuck are you talking about—?" James was interrupted when Eilif rushed forward, his hand grabbing the Jarl by the throat. He gagged, unable to react in time as the immortal man slammed him onto the ground. Eilif stared at him with crazed eyes, lips formed into a snarl.

"You fabricated that memory!" he shouted. "Manipulated me! Got Faust to trick me! How?! How did you do it?!"

"I didn't… fabricate shit," James forced between gritted teeth. He grabbed at Eilif's head with his left hand and drained once more. Flashes of memory were exchanged between the two. Instead of Eilif, however, it was James' own. Images of his childhood flashed by in a matter of seconds, each one taking place before his father's death.

Eilif staggered back from the influx of information, mouth agape in a silent scream as he clutched his skull. James stood up from where he was, his breathing growing shallow as he tried to shove the flashing memories from his own mind, if only so he could properly focus.

"Summon I–" James stopped when the sensation of static pricked at his hair. He turned to the doorway, where Dahlia was still kneeling, her eyes widening with the same realization.

"Dahlia!" James' shout echoed a second after the Shaman hit the floor, hands above her head as someone entered the hut in a blur, their feet skidding against the floorboards. James didn't even have time to react when something invisible struck his chest, the impact sending air rushing out of his lungs.

He landed on the ground after that, his eyes looking down at the gash that was made into the steel breastplate. James' heart skipped a beat when he recognized the attack, his old wounds aching at the memory. Someone shoved him back onto the ground with a kick, their boot pressing on his chest. James gritted his teeth as he looked up at Kira, the woman with Beholder Eyes. Her hand was extended toward him, almost as if she was offering him a lift up. Yet her fingers seemed to be grasping onto some invisible blade, the air around it stinking of burnt ozone.

"Still alive?" Kira asked, her eyes glowing purple. Eilif came to her side, the immortal man carrying something underneath his arm.

"Don't kill him," he said, voice cold.

Kira turned to him, a scowl forming on her lips. "What?"

"Don't kill him," Eilif repeated.

Kira scoffed, her eyes rolling. "What is he immortal too? Oh, don't tell me, he's the reincarnation of the chosen—-"

"KIRA!" Eilif shouted, his voice booming with renewed anger. "We can't kill him."

There was a brief moment of silence between the two, their gazes burning into each other. For a second, James swore he was going to witness them both tear at each other's throats. Instead, he watched as Kira sighed, her invisible weapon dissipating into static. She stepped off of James, who didn't dare arise from where he lay.

"Halvorson?" Eilif asked. Kira shook her head.

"Things got complicated," she muttered, her accursed eyes showing what James could only assume was… pity?

"Explain later then," Eilif said as he turned to the doorway, where Ravens were already grouping around Dahlia. They held their spears and iron swords toward the two hostiles within the hut, ready to charge but not willing to risk James' life for it.

James wanted to scream the order to charge in regardless. If they could take these two out now…

'No,' Faust said. 'I do not believe it to be a worthy risk, not with our condition.'

James cursed silently, his hands clenched into fists as he watched Kira and Eilif group, the immortal's gaze still on the young Jarl. It was then that James noticed what the man was carrying, its silver sheen reflecting the low light of the hut.

'Dad's urn… why does he have Dad's urn?'

James reached out with his hand, panic fluttering within his chest as he called out, "No, no, wait!"

"Push."

James was sent flying back, the magical spell pinning him against the wall of the hut. He struggled to break free but failed as Eilif bolstered the spell. Pressure built against his chest, limiting his breathing as the wind rushed past his ears.

"Be grateful he's letting you live," Kira said boredly. "Honestly, I don't even remember the last time he's shown this kind of mercy."

"Silence," Eilif growled. "We're leaving. Cast the spell."

James could only watch as Kira's eyes flashed a bright purple, the floorboards around the two becoming alight with complex runes.

"We'll meet again, James," Eilif said, his facial features becoming gaunt under the purple glow of what looked like a summoning circle. "You can count on it."

There was a delay of two seconds once the glyphs around him flared into a bright yellow. James and Eilif spent that time staring at each other, tense silence filling the air in that brief moment. Frustration filled their staredown as they both shared the same sensation of bitterness and confusion. Of what, James wasn't exactly sure.

And then Eilif was gone.

James fell down from where he had been pinned, the Push spell instantly failing once the Immortal had left. His knees were too weak to stand as they wobbled whenever he tried. His arms felt as if they were made of jelly, his fingers stiff and numb from the constant fighting he had done.

Yet James could still feel his adrenaline pump like crazy, his anger and thrill not yet satiated. It ebbed and flowed in his veins like hot liquor, making him breathe out puffs of steam.

"Dammit!" he shouted. He slammed a fist onto the floor, the wood of which cracked underneath his gauntlet. It couldn't end like this. Not like this. Not after everything he had sacrificed. After the lives he had taken. He just couldn't… he just….

"James," a soft voice reached him. James looked up, only to see Dahlia there. The Shaman was being assisted by Helen, who herself was struggling to stand. James was silent, his words failing him. What could he say to her?

Dahlia slowly let herself drop beside him, Helen's hands gently guiding her. James opened his mouth to speak despite not knowing what to say.

"Dahlia, I-I, I don't–"

Dahlia didn't let him continue. She only embraced him, her weak arms pulling him tightly close.

For a moment, James could only sit there, silent in his agony and internal suffering. He attempted to take a deep breath to calm himself, to bury and shove down what had happened. But he failed, and before he could stop it, the dam finally broke. His body shuddered in emotional turmoil, everything he had held within finally breaking out into an ugly show of vulnerability.

Dahlia didn't move from where she sat. She only held him tighter, her voice soft as she spoke comforting reassurances into his ear. Right then, they were the only two people in the world, and for all he cared, it was the only thing that was real to him.

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