Sil stood front and centre on the defence line and refused to back down before the last of the walking dead ambled past. While the other healers cycled in and out of the barrier group, she'd remained steadfast, channelling through the night, drawing and cycling more power than she thought herself capable of.

How did she do that?

How could she do that?

Not easily, that much was certain. Blood dripped off the tip of her nose and pooled between her lips. Her eyes were scratchy with fatigue and her throat burned with thirst. But she kept the barrier up, fuelled by the resentment of an endless cascade of disasters.

Where was the justice in the world? Where was the equity? She'd fought. She'd bled. She'd kept her back straight through it all. And so had all the rock hearts of the Cauldron. Every single person there had been through the fire and come out the other side, singed, scarred and smoking, but unbent and unbowed.

Their reward was now this torrent of gruesome horror, a fresh reminder that forces beyond any of their comprehension consumed them unchallenged.

What more could be demanded of them all?!

Sil spent the night pouring fuel onto the fire that boiled her piss. It wasn't enough that she'd faced Erisa and had been scarred by the girl. It wasn't enough that she'd stared down a daemon rhino and burned herself blasting its brains out. It wasn't enough that she'd rewoven the fabric of her own mind to obliterate Panacea's chains. Whatever she did, it was not enough. More kept piling on. And it simply wasn't fair.

Not that the world owed her any fairness. Maybe it owed some to Silestra, but not to the meat she inhabited. Dreea had too many sins to pay for. Maybe that's why life felt like a slippery slope after there rain, where each fall sent her deeper down into the muck.

When the screaming started, she was hit by a moment of profound disorientation. Light cracked the sky above. A chill breeze rolled down the mountain slopes. The dragon rumbled above them, like a great cat purring in some obscenely terrifying way.

Were people actually screaming? Or was it all in her head, dredged up from some corner of Dreea's memories?

One by one the healers drew back, voices rising in panic, arms shaking as if on fire.

Sil turned and took in the scene. It was only the healers crying out. The civilians that had spent the night huddled behind her wall stared at the sudden madness that gripped the healers.

"What's happening?" she heard herself asking. On instinct, she checked whether she was safe or not. Nothing hurt. Nothing burned. Nothing was actively trying to eat, cut, or disembowel her.

Tallah floated above, as tireless as ever, hands on fire, head on a swivel.

But all the dead were gone over the pass, to climb the ruined ravine like fleas on a dog. Tallah watched the back of them. The sorceress sent a look Sil's way and their eyes met. A question in Tallah's. Confusion, most likely, in Sil's.

Old man Kor was closest to her, crumpled down on his knees, face ashen. His entire body looked to have wrapped around his right arm as he tucked it against his belly. A red splotch of blood, shockingly bright in the first rays of dawn light, spread on his sleeve.

"Show me," Sil demanded as she stood over him.

Some of the others were screaming. Some in pain. Most in horror. Through the cacophony of cries, Sil even made out some incredulous curses.

"Why?"

"What've I done?"

"I've served dutifully. I've done good. Why?!"

She picked out the words and grim understanding crossed her mind. Crouching next to Kor, she reached out for his arm and, as gently as she could, pulled it away from where he hid it. The sleeve was black with blood.

Words were cut into the flesh of his arm, written small and neat, in what Vergil had called Earth Standard. A red mark, clear as day.

"Have you read it?" Sil asked.

Kor shook his head, his grey eyes boring into hers. There was a sort of accusation in that look, but she took no offence at it. After all, he didn't know what creature Panacea was, or how she thought and acted. As for Sil's scars, he'd been kind enough not to pry into their origin, so she'd not had a chance to dilute his faith in the goddess.

Sil rolled up his sleeve and wiped the blood away from the shallow cuts.

"Find Silestra Iluna. Bring everyone to her. There will be eight communications. Do not tarry."

She blinked. So did Kor, mouth hanging slightly open, a frown creasing his already weathered brow.

"Well, you don't need to find me. I'm right here," Sil tried to keep her tone light. It had little effect.

"Because of you…" His voice took on the quiet fury of one that understands finally who's been to blame for all his misfortune. Not that it was a kind or fair thought, but Sil tried to keep an open mind on how everything would look from her colleagues' perspectives. "You brought this on us!"

Sil shook her head and rose. Liosse had made her way through the crowd, axe in hand, one eye swivelling to find what fox had gotten into the hen house. Tallah still floated above, watching the departing column.

"Wha's this now?" Liosse snarled as more of the healers quieted as they read their own marks. "Who's hurt? Why?" Five soldiers, Arin included, trailed her with weapons drawn, searching for the danger.

Sil waved the old woman over.

"Take the civilians and give us some space." Red Marks were known. To have eight healers marked would probably not have gone over well with the survivors and their frayed nerves.

Liosse took one last look around the small group, the set to rounding up the people. Arin approached Sil and darted in a question. "Is Vergil all right? I don't see him."

Sil waved him away. "On a mission. He's fine. Get to your work." To Tallah, she shouted to make herself heard over Liosse's orders. "We've got a message from our friend. I think you'll want to read it too."

Kor tried to drag his arm away from her, but she held an iron grip on it. When she turned back to him, there was loathing in his eyes, the righteous indignation of the innocent accused in the guilty's stead.

"Don't worry," Sil said, and tried to sound encouraging. "You're not being punished. This is her way of helping. You'll get used to it."

It did little to calm the old man.

"What's going on?" Tallah landed next to her with a thump, her boots rustling the dust as she set down. "What's with the screaming?"

"What did you do to me? Earlier, I mean?" Sil asked. "You said you cut my connection to the goddess?"

"Anna says you have a whole construct in your head and it'd take her a long time to figure what everything does. She's cut what was similar to myself and Vergil." Tallah frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I think you cut away Panacea's ability to write on me. She's using proxies now."

Tallah looked uncomprehending for a moment, then her eyes widened as she took in the scene.

"Bastard creature," she grumbled. "Now she wants to talk. Now everyone wants to talk all of a sudden."

As anger replaced panic, and teary eyes turned hard and sullen, Sil clapped her hands together and spoke just loud enough for everyone to hear. "This is not a punishment. The goddess has work for us to do. All of you, gather around. Your marks are meant for me. I'm really sorry about this."

Behind her, Tallah issued further orders to Liosse. Guards towards the pass. Provisions set up. Everyone ready to move within less than a bell.

Reluctantly, the healers gathered. On some, Panacea had written on their arms. Others got the message on their calves. One on her back. Adella, the hard-eyed midwife, had a whole paragraph cut right above her heart. All of them were numbered.

"1. Daughter, have you gone insane? Have you any idea how stupid your gamble is? We will have words first chance we get because this behaviour on your part is not acceptable!" Sil gave Adella an apology smile. The shock of a Red Mark just for the goddess to deliver a rant against Sil felt like spite on Panacea's part.

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

"2. I demand you head to the School." This was on Castien's arm, and the sallow-faced girl still whimpered even as Sil tried to whisper encouraging words to her.

"3. Every moment you delay puts you, your charges, and all of humanity at risk."

That one was pure drama. Humanity had enough to contend with and Sil didn't feel it all rested on her or Tallah's shoulders. The sorceress scoffed at this part of the message, to the general annoyance of the poor healer that bore the message on his leg.

"4. I cannot come myself. I demand you do as instructed"

"5. Ria burns. Old Forge is besieged. Drack is next. There are no safe havens."

This got a murmur out of everyone clustered around her and Tallah. Sil shushed them before the civilians could overheard. The last thing they needed, on the heels of everything, was a panic.

"6. For the sorceress, I promise real answers to her specific problem. I have a solution."

"7. Do not waste more time. You have no time to waste!"

"8. Explain what you will to the others. I permit any reveal. Within reason. Do not sow a panic."

Sil read the eighth message, then sighed. She looked into the eyes of the terrified healer—some young Adana boy that was barely older than Vergil and likely on one of his first postings. "Don't worry about these. Panacea has a strange way of making her wishes known."

"The Goddess knows you," the boy mumbled, eyes wide in adoration. "She speaks your name. I am honoured to have been her instrument."

If he'd seen Panacea coming to the Rock and faffing about without lifting a hand to help, Sil expected he would be singing a different tune. For now she simply smiled and nodded her thanks.

The other healers were all looking at one another, cradling their already healing arms, voices lowered to little more than whispers. Sil wondered if they would begin questioning the goddess after this display and for using this method. It wasn't something with precedent, as far as she knew.

Nobody asked for clarification. They all stared at Tallah. The sorceress stared at the dragon with a fist against her lips, teeth worrying at a knuckle. One more demand on her, though at least this one was a repeat of older ones. Sil couldn't help but wonder who'd be next to crawl up from the woodwork and hand them some other quest.

Knowing Tallah, she was now less inclined than ever to follow through with Panacea's wishes.

For now, Sil tried to stifle a jaw-popping yawn. Tears of exhaustion stung her eyes. The goddess had gone to all the trouble of sending her message only to encourage Sil to do what she and Tallah had already planned on.

Even with everyone still sullenly looking between her and Tallah, she felt oddly elated at the display. The goddess was blind to her. Sil could do anything. She could go anywhere. If she so wished, she could just stop being Silestra Iluna altogether and become someone new again.

A thought soured the short-lived fantasy. She couldn't be someone new, not yet. Not before she reunited with Mertle, and that was the darkest thought of the day by far.

"Tallah?" she ventured when silence descended over their group. "What are we doing? Shouldn't we be getting on? I don't fancy waiting for that creature to change its mind."

"Thinking," the sorceress said, not taking her eyes away from the dragon. "I need to think."

"You must go to the goddess," a voice rose from the nine healers gathered. "She demanded it of you." Kor. The old man's eyes shone with fervour now that the whole message had been read. "If she has answers for you to end this madness, you must go. The Goddess would not allow Ort's treachery to run unchecked."

Several voices agreed. Tallah snorted.

"Oh yes, that would be wonderful. A lively quest with the fate of the world in the balance. Such a faer story." She looked like she was ready to spit, but resisted the urge. Antagonising the only other channellers aside from the two of them wasn't wise. "Kor, you and Sil should have a chat about the goddess. It would do your ignorance a world of good."

Sil grimaced when several pairs of eyes turned to her. She wasn't going to take away the rock these people clung to, not even if she craved to share her insight. Kor had heard what he needed to hear to keep going.

"Can you save Ria?"

Sil was surprised to hear Adella's voice rising from among the throng. The taciturn Adana midwife rarely spoke up, and it was even rarer to hear her voice in anything but a sharp tone. A twist of hope coloured her words now.

"I doubt it," Tallah admitted. "Not if whatever's there is like what we've just met. I can't destroy an entire city, whatever the empire's propaganda might've said about me."

"Then… why are you staying with us?" Adella looked around, meeting several eyes. "You're an outcast from the empire. We all know it." Several voice agreed. Those that didn't speak up just nodded. Kor watched Sil with the intensity of a fervent believer. "You don't need to be here. You could go anywhere at any time. You don't owe us anything. So why are you staying now that we're out of the Cauldron?"

Sil found herself agreeing with the girl. Aside from basic human decency, Tallah had no reason to remain with the doomed group. Her plans for a city loyal to her, even as fantastical as they'd been, now lay in the Rock's ashes.

What next? Just keep going to Ria? Leave a siege to find a siege? Fight another doomed battle? Keep going until finally something struck them all dead?

Tallah stood alone, several paces away from the group, still worrying on her knuckle. She'd drawn blood.

"If I leave, you lot die," she said, voice grown cold. "Either here, or when you emerge on the other end."

"We die any way," the girl said. "Had the monsters stayed, could you have saved us? I don't really think so. Nobody does. We saw what you can do, but you're just one woman. And we're a handful left that can put up a fight. With you or without you, we all die."

Tallah's brow creased into a deep scowl. Not anger but confusion. Sil shared in the feeling.

"I don't think I understand what you mean, Adella," Sil said when Tallah just stared. "Is there a point you want to make?"

Adella pointed an accusing blood-stained finger at her. "The Goddess chose you. She hurt us to speak to you. There is nothing ahead for the three of you. Once we meet with the empire, you will be our enemy. We can't all ignore what we've seen you do, Lady Cinder and Lady Silestra. We know what you are, even if none of us would say it aloud."

Sil thought it: heretics. Tallah was a soul binder, and Sil a goddess deserter. They hadn't been subtle about it.

Brothers until the river is crossed. She couldn't help bile rising into her throat.

"Is that a threat?" Tallah bristled.

"It's reality," Kor answered. The others shuffled their feet uncomfortably. "We serve the empress, Cinder. You saved us all, but we will reunite with the empire eventually. And we both know they will not welcome you." His old-leather face arranged itself into a sly smile. "And we all know you wouldn't want to be welcomed. So… what else is there? The goddess calls you and offers what no one else can. Why not accept?"

"You don't know what you're saying, Kor." It was Sil's turn to protest, though she agreed with the old man. "It's more complicated than that."

"We know," Adella said, laughing for the first time since Sil had known her. She scratched absently at the healing rant on her chest. "A legendary sorceress arrives on the hour of the Rock's defeat. She reunites Rock and Anvil and does the impossible in a final defence against spectacular odds. She befriends a dragon. A creature from beyond the crater sings her praise. And all this time she was already under mission from the Goddess herself, by the Goddess's own words. Of course this whole situation is complicated. It would be absurd otherwise."

"And yet you resist the summon," Kor said. He remained seated on the cold rock. His eyes did not slack Sil's. "Go, Cinder. You might not know what it means to receive a Red Mark, but all of us do. There is no greater shame for a healer. For Panacea to resort to means so drastic, used on her faithful—" His eyes clearly said he was not including Sil in that statement. "Her words could not be of greater importance. If you've ever valued my council, you will take it now."

Tallah's frown eased just a fraction. Light spilled down the mountain in full now, bathing them all in the a warm tide that made the night's terror seem unreal. Soldiers were gathered up with the civilians, at a reasonable distance away, watching the group.

Vergil was with them, talking to Arin, face grave. He nodded to his friend, then descended to the gathering.

"What did I miss?" he asked as he joined Sil.

Tallah stared down both Adella and Kor. Or she tried to. They were not budging in their resolution. Everyone else had joined them, leaving Sil isolated with Vergil.

"We're being asked to leave," Sil stage whispered. "Quite insistently."

"What did Tallah do?" Vergil whispered back, just as theatrically. He wore a grin.

"Sil, do you think this was her plan all along?" Tallah finally broke the staring contest.

"To mark everyone here so they'd badger you into complying?"

"Panacea? I could see her doing that," Vergil said. "And I can see Tallah getting bent out of shape about it. Really, what did I miss?"

"And you'd like us to leave now?" Tallah demanded. "And leave you saddled with all the civilians? To care for them?"

"We care for them either way," Kor countered.

He had the smile of one that knew he'd get what he wanted. Sil almost wished to tell him some hard truths about Panacea, but didn't have the heart to hurt Adella or Castien's faiths. That was likely the only thing keeping them going.

"We know the land to Ria. We will melt into it and pass the city and its outskirts." Kor went on, drawing with a finger in the shale beneath their feet. "There's good land past Ria. If there is a force coming to help here, then it will come down the iron road. We will push on towards that and hope to unite with the empire. If not, we'll head towards Drack. Once past Ria, we should be fine."

For a time nobody said anything. Tallah watched the healers. The healers watched Tallah. Sil used the moment to whisper the whole thing to Vergil.

In the end it was Liosse that broke the silence.

"Bones of me cat, ye can be stubborn, girl," the old battle maiden groused as she lost patience and came down the hill. "Ye need a boot in yer arse t' get movin'?"

"You want me gone too?" The words sounded belligerent, but there was no heat behind them. Tallah had her mind made up. This was all ritual now.

Sil breathed a sigh of relief. Soon they'd have a goal again and she could focus on it rather than dodging the thoughts of Mertle and the ache in her chest whenever she thought of the elendine. Spying Licia in the gathered crowd only made her heart beat harder.

"We don't want ye gone, lass," Liosse said as she walked straight up to the sorceress. She set a hand on Tallah's hip and shook her gently. "We want ye safe. And away from th' empire's grasp. Aye? We can handle oorselves from here on out."

"Monsters notwithstanding," Tallah chided.

"Aye. But we know how to handle those if need be. Run and hide. Plenty of room for both up here." She gave Tallah a squeeze around the waist, then said something that Sil didn't catch.

But Tallah's mask of annoyance cracked for a fraction just then, a look of undiluted grief flashing across her features, quickly disguised. The sorceress nodded and offered her hand for Liosse to shake. This was it then.

Vergil leaned into Sil's ear and whispered, "Does Tallah have a sister? That died?" His hearing looked to have also been improved.

Before she could answer, Tallah quietly made her way past the gathered healers to a chorus of variations of "Thank you".

"Grab whoever you want to take with," she said to Vergil. "Case you want your friend with you."

"We're not going with the others then?"

"No." She raised her chin towards the dragon. "I'm gonna try and convince our friend there to let us ride him."

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