HOME | DD

Description
The centaur did not lie; the keep was before our very eyes, between the inordinate bushes of green and spiked yellow flowers. The building was once used as a place of worship towards the seventh deity, the goddess of love and her child, the blessed son of melody. Out of all the deities, she was the most favoured. It was believed every realm held a temple in her name, although most had been destroyed or abandoned in time. The other deities were said to be jealous of her praise, and had threatened mortal man into erecting temples for each of them. With the height of religion dissolving over time, the need for such glorious buildings of worship fell and their temples were often converted into other means. Most realms used them for royal housing or galleries of treasure. Vargnus was no different.

The seventh deities temple stood the proudest and most pleasing of all the religious buildings in the realm. The white stone stood as tall as the clouds, with a border of red and gold detail at the edges. Carvings of mortal men and women bowing low and lifting fruit baskets gripped the side walls, leaving the biggest feature to be that of the deity herself. Her son, portrayed as a small boy, stood coyly beside her, clutching the flowing fabric of her sleeves. As a child, I was left amazed at such detail. And even now, I caught myself gasping at such beauty.

"The seventh deity...." Ede remarked, as we passed by her statuesque wall. "Folk were so blinded by her beauty, they forgot all about the others. I do not blame them for their retaliation on man."

"She was the god of the people," Neevi never needed an excuse to pick a fight with the wood nymph. "How can you spew hate on the one deity that cared so much for folk like us?"

"On humans, yes. And perhaps other sub-species. But wood nymphs? No...."

"Mother believed the seventh deity was the first siren." I added, trying to fizzle out the fuse to their fight. "She said it was the reason folk praised her so much, for they had fallen in love with her upon sight. It was not as though she had offered the world any more than the other deities."

"I suppose that's true," Ede pondered in thought. "It would make sense as to why tricked the deity of colour into marriage, too."

"Come along," Castor huffed, impatient. "We do not have time to sight-see."

The guards barrack entrance was something of a secret to me. I had never really given it much thought in truth. If one had asked of me for it's direction, I would have had little to offer. Yet, in knowledge of it's position, it seemed almost foolish not to have known previously. It's doorway sat in the large pillar, before the large palace gates, illuminated gloriously by the stained glass windows.

"This way," Castor prompted, turning his head of hair towards Ede and Billen. The prisoner, although agreeing somewhat to cooperate, still was not warm to the idea of speaking ill against Molton.

"I do not like this place," he expressed, swallowing the nervous lump in the depth of his throat. "I am getting a terrible vibe."

"Me too...." Neevi seemed more familiar with the guards barracks, and although in fox form, she still kept her head bowed low. The closer our feet approached, the more centaurs we passed. Each gave a nod of recognition towards Castor, and a few stray glances towards us.

"Do not worry, Neevi. If you are with me, you will be greeted warmly." The centaur reassured, although she did not look so confident.

"You sure?" She asked again. "That bastard councillor would love to see my face behind bars..."

"Just keep your mouth hushed and you won't see any bother. And for deities sake, do not touch anything!" He knew her too well. A brooding smirk lit up on her face.

"I quite fancied having some armour like Thorns-"

"I cannot remove your name from trouble for much longer. There is only so much I can do to erase your crimes. Any tampering within the keep itself is something even I could not defend. Promise me you will not do anything stupid."

"Stupid? Me? Do you not know that foxes are creatures celebrated for their cunning wit?"

"Even the deities can make mistakes." Ede grinned wickedly to herself.

"I am as serious as the shores, Neevi. You must vow to keep that curious nose of yours out of trouble. And your wandering hands to yourself." He shot her a firm look. "If anything were to happen to you, I'd....I'd..." His mouth dried out, lost for the right words.

"Lose the best drinking companion you'd ever hope to find?"

"Exactly. Now, I will speak to Rossli, head of the guards fleet. If our claim is to fall flat, I trust only his ears to keep it to himself."

"And if he doesn't?" Ede was truly not taking any chances. "It's a danger to us all if the wrong words are to leave-"

"Just let me do the talking," Castor knocked three times in sequence upon the large wooden framed doors, signalling the gates-man to slide open the eye hatch. He stepped in front of us, his towering frame blocking us all from view. I saw, over his shoulders, a set of dark eyes scanning down, softening upon recognition.

"Castor?" He spoke heartily. He showed his face more through the latch, wearing a blunt smile. A large beard grew down his chin, rather like the hanging moss that hung from the roof of the palace roof.

"Greetings Verraad!"

"What in all the realms are you doing here?" His voice rasped over the squeal of the hinges, as the door was cranked open from the inside. The sunlight crept through the shadows, igniting a thick glare of white to skim over the centaur's face.

"I am here to speak to Rossli on business." Castor mumbled, clearing his throat. His eyes were quivering with nervousness.

"No need for formalities." Verraad unbolted the doors, their mechanisms crying from age as they moved. The main chamber was opened to us. "He's where he always is." The doorman added, as Castor passed him briskly.

"Keeping taps on the trouble-makers?"

"Aye. Have you been rounding up a few more?" He asked, his face falling upon us. "What a curious group of people there is here. Friends of yours?"
"Yes, the business I will discussing involves them all." Verradd led us down to the basement level, hunching his large frame down as he bent to fit through a small wooden door, blackened and parched from age. The keep, as it was known by the guards, was much larger than I had expected. It seemed the brickwork fooled the eyes into thinking it was much slimmer, yet rooms seemed to stem from each neck of the corridors.

"How have you been keeping, anyhow? I must admit I have missed your face since retirement season."

"Well, brother. My life is at peace...." His eyes turned to the fox, as he mumbled. "Mostly."

"I do not envy you, Castor." Verraad added, as we approached Rossli's quarters. "Whilst we fight for the peace and quiet of our realm, I do not know what I'd do besides it. Without injustice, my soul would be mighty bored."

"Peace and boredom are two very different things." Castor reminded. "Never wish away peace, for some who fight to see it rarely do."

"I'll leave you to it. I presume you still know the way." The doorman gestured down the staircase. It was narrow and the stonework was blue and cold.

"Indeed." Came his reply, and Verraad left us for a quiet time.

"I still do not like the idea of this....." Billen's teeth were chattering in his jaw. "I am getting bad vibes from this place."

"Me too." Ede was the last person I had expected to agree with the prisoner. But it seemed a fair point. I, too, felt a sense of nervousness as Castor banged his knuckles against Rossli's door.

"Keep your mouths to yourselves and there will be nothing to worry about." There was no turning back. I ignored every instinct within me to turn back. I knew I had to do this. For Arrain. For justice.

Rossli was found standing over a large, squared desk, observing several scrolls of parchment and maps that coated the table. He was humming lightly to himself, some old folks song that I recognized from Mother's throat. The head-guard warmed from his stern frown of business, upon sight of Castor, and winded his arms around him.

"Castor!" The voice boomed out from an elderly-looking centaur, much more powerful than one would expect. His hair was withered silver, and stretched down from the centre of his scalp down into frail ends by his shoulders. His eyes were encased in dark rings, burrowing underneath years of war and freckles seasoned with age.

"Rossli, it has been an age since we last spoke."

"Yes. Too long if you ask me." I noticed him push over a few layers of the parchment so that they were out of view, although I suspected that was due to the confidential nature of their business. His eyes inspected us briefly, but did not concern themselves to long in our motives. Castor bowed to the side of him, embracing the older man warmly. "It seems only yesterday you withdrew from the fleet. What a loss it was for the city watch that day. How is retirement treating you?"

“It is all that I could have imagined. Quiet days, long nights, belly full of ale.” Castor chuckled to himself, his laughter complimented by Rossli's own melody of humour.

"Carry on like that, and I might be joining you into an early resignation!" He patted his back firmly. "And whom is it you have brought with you?"

"Friends."

"Fellow drinkers, aye? I must admit, I would wish to join you at your taverns one evening, but I seldom drag myself away from this place. You know how it is! There is always some drunkard lurking after dark, trying his luck on the market safes."

"Yes, I remember it only too well." He said with a sigh and roll of eyes.

"Did you hear news of the raid on Wakenage Tavern a few moons back?" I saw Neevi's ears prick up. "It was not something of our organisation, but as always, we were left to pick up the pieces. There was a right good fire. Saw the smoke from our tower posts. Flooded the whole sky until dawn."

"Do you know what happened?" Castor spoke for Neevi, hoping her patience and anger would not front. I saw her lips quivering, dying to speak out.

"Some drunken scrap, I imagine. Several dead, although most had fled by the time we reached it. I never understood what good it was, having a tavern out all that way. Whom in their right mind is going to hike there for their ale?"

"No idea." Castor said, flatly.

"Nothing good can come from such isolation. If I didn't know better, I'd say Skotádi-root farmers traded there.....out of the eyes of the city and all. Good riddance, I say. Anything that keeps our streets clean is alright with me." Neevi would have curled up her fingers into angry fists, if she had them. The tension of her restricted mouth radiated from her, hot and stormy. "Alas, let us not dwell on the grim facts. What brings you and your friends to our barracks, if not to reminisce.”

"I have a favour to ask." The nerves set in, and it cracked the confidence in his voice. Rossli's mouth opened in a vowel, curious as to what Castor had to say. "What I am about to share with you is a sensitive matter."

"Oh?"

"I ask of you only to keep this as confidential unless approved."

"I see." Rossli replied hastily, backing himself around the arch formed between my frame and Billen at the rear of the room. "Then I'll shall make sure there are no wandering ears...."

He was swift to close the door, ensuring the mechanism locked into place. I felt a lump gather in my throat, and I knew the taste of anxiety was shared between us all. Castor, above all, could hardly contain his nerves. His knees were buckling. Neevi stretched up beside his front legs, coiling her mischievous tail around him for comfort.

"So...what seems to be troubling your mind?" Rossli had returned to his position, out-facing the desk.

"There is no easy way to begin this, so I will speak with a blunt tongue. I have heard news of the ruler abusing her position of justice." Castor spoke, as firmly as he could manage. A silence fell rather suddenly, allowing the hooves of the upper floor to be heard trotting amongst the hard-flooring. "The realm of Nilichon-"

"Nilichon?" Rossli's hands scrolled over his face, smearing the pink tissue of his lips. "That's rather far out of our jurisdiction. Have you ever been to such a place?"

"Not quite, but she-" The younger centaur attempted to speak out, but Rossli denied him such a privilege.

"Our watch extends only to the soil of Vargnus. And besides which, the actions of a ruler are that of her own." He spoke with a downward tone, like a Father scolding his kin. His warmly stance seemed to shift altogether, starting with his folded arms and pinched brow. Castor's respect for the head-guard got the better of him, and he retreated by my side, his skin pale with worry. "Her actions, be it wrong or otherwise, do not affect our townspeople. We have no business interfering with any foreign rulings."

"Even if her rulings are completely unjust!" Ede could not bite her tongue. She stepped out of line from the rest of us, jolting forward toward Rossli, although he did not seemed surprised. Their faces were pressed together, almost touching, but not quite.

"Who are you?"

"It does not matter who I am. You guards are all the same. You speak through the hunger of justice, yet when presented with news of such barbaric practice, you cower away in your towers. Innocent people are in need of protection. Surely that is the duty of your men, be it this realm or another?"

"I was curious to know what tempted a young girl to don such heavy armour." Rossli sneered, his upper lip curdling to bare his teeth. He preoccupied his interests in the papers piled upon his desk, sighing dramatically to himself. But Ede's frustration spoke for her, compelling her hands to swipe at the pieces of parchment, scattering them amongst the ground. His sharp eyes scanned her, from foot to forehead, with a look of disgust. "And a wood nymph at that. Your kind do no belong on city streets; you cannot abide by anything but your rural structure."

"Do not bring race into this." She spat back, full of attitude as the night we had met. And whilst I usually disapproved of her fiery behaviour, this was one such occasion that held an exception. To say I was shocked at the head-guards remarks was an understatement; not only for his intolerance at Ede's heritage, but for his lack of appetite for justice. He had barely let Castor speak a handful of words, let alone disclose any of the abusive acts of Molton. There was gravel in Ede's continuous case, and for a moment, not only did we share the same unconditional thirst for integrity, but rejection from our bloodline.

I saw her swallow the heated words that burnt the roof of her mouth, knowing she had to keep Rossli sweet if we were to grasp any hope of recruiting the guards fleet toward our cause.

"I advise you return to the high woodlands where you were born, and cease burdening Castor and Vargnus townspeople with your hot-headed nonsense." His warm breath fanned out, seeping through all the pores upon Ede's face in a stern gust. She blinked, stepping back. Her eyes were glazed over with a layer of tears that seemed rather odd on her face. She wasn't one to cry.

"It will be a burden to us all if we do not act now!" She spoke, less harshly. She stepped back toward us slightly, greeted by my hand cupping her shoulder. "It seems nobody wants to address the threat she possesses, but soon enough it will be a problem to all the realms. Maybe then, people like you will wish you could have nipped it in the bud and heeded my warnings."

"Tell me, do you have sufficient proof of this ruler's wrongdoings?" Rossli grunted through his teeth, narrowing his eyes in an intense glare. "Or do you throw accusations around for the hell of it?"

"The blood of my family, and countless others." Ede turned to me momentarily, our eyes catching like magnets. There was a raw pain in her voice, as though she was re-living the moment her family were taken from her. But it was briskly cast aside, and the business front of the matter came forward. "Is that enough, or would you like to here a testament from one of her henchmen?" The wood nymph latched onto Billen's shoulder, shoving him forward like a piece of meat. The mercenary stood sheepishly in the centre of the room, remaining still as Rossli circled him with inspecting eyes.

"You expect me to take his word? He could be a stranger from the street for all I know. Given coinage to speak for you. What proof is there in hired words?"

"Just look at the markings on his face; they are the mark of her rein. Tell him, Billen!" Ede was trying in vain to adjust Rossli's mind, but it seemed he could not be swayed. Billen's tongue had been tied in knots, and he could not manage to speak a single word. Ede's frustration in him did not help matters, as she struck his back with her fist several times. "Billen! Speak the truth! Speak it or I'll knock it from your lungs!"

"It's true." He stammered. His voice sounded most cowardly but I knew he was far from it. This was the bravest thing he had done. "She trials those that are not guilty. She finds sentencing that is unjust and treats those she captures as slaves. I spent my life in her dungeons."

"I have heard enough!" Rossli silenced. "I have genuine matters to attend to."

"Billen, tell him more. Go on! Tell him of all the murders and the lies, of the blood that stains her fingers!" Ede was not allowing him to brush it under the carpet. It was much too late for that.

"My ears will not hear another word. Since you cannot offer any substantial evidence of this rulers supposed crimes, I have no option but to dismiss this claim. If you were wise, you would remove all that you thought you knew of Nilichon and head back to your alehouse."

"Rossli," Castor attempted to reason once more, although his voice still lacked confidence. "You can't honestly expect me to forget this? What about justice for-"

"If you seek justice so keenly, perhaps you'd find it appropriate for me to disclose this act of treason to the royal court." His lips curled into a smug pout. Their eyes met in an intense battle, as though they would stand their ground until death.

"Castor, let's leave." Neevi chimed in, tugging at the bristly hair that coated the centaurs leg. But Castor's stubborn nature was in full force, and he did not break eye contact for a second. "Castor, please?" She encouraged, looking toward me for support.

"Neevi's right." I added, stepping between the two of them. I felt the tension in their eyes divert around me in a blinding anger. "We'll be no good to anybody behind bars. Come on, let's go." Reluctantly, the centaur admitted defeat and let his head fall to the floor in shame.

"It seems not all your friends have lost their minds."

"You'll regret this, you know." Ede sneered toward the elderly-looking centaur, primed on having the last word. But Rossli's pride ruled him on having that luxury.

"The only regret to be had," He scoffed, under his breath. "is that Molton did not wipe out all of you filthy wood nymphs. Perhaps then I wouldn't be bothered with such-"

"We never mentioned her name...." My thoughts were carried aloud, forcing Ede to hold back on the inevitable rage spewing over from Rossli's racist remarks. All eyes returned to him, as the realization set in that he was harbouring more detail than he was letting on. The betrayal was carved hardly on Castor's face.

"Yes, yes you did." He protested, with a look of terror diluting his dark eyes. He turned to Castor, trying to dismiss our grieving faces. "How else would I know her name? Castor, you know better than most that I would never lead a life of such corruption."

"Do I?" Castor snarled, weaving himself face-to-face with the dishonest centaur. "The man I thought I knew would never have allowed folk to suffer, be it in this realm or next."

He boxed Rossli against the pane of the door. His arms were wedged by his sides, unable to break free. Instantly, he ordered Castor to liberate him, although his requests fell on deaf ears. Ede, feeling rather confident with Castor's restrictions over the head-guard, strutted over toward the desk, leaning down to snatch up the private documents he had been so keen to shield from our eyes.

"Castor, this is absurd! Release me at once! I can have you arrested for this!" Rossli barked out. Instantly, it became clear we had ruffled a few feathers. His face flooded with blistering fear. "Do not touch anything, you vile wood nymph! There is nothing for your eyes!"

"If you've got nothing to hide, then why is it you look so worried?" I assisted Ede's searches. There didn't seem to be anything of use. It was all official guard-work; listings of recent crimes, individuals to keep watch on, and so on. The mass of paperwork would take hours to properly sieve through through, and it was time we simply did not have. If not for Arrain, for the restraints Castor was wrapping on Rossli. It was anyone's guess how long he could keep his stubborn heart pinned.

"There must be something-" The wood nymph was growing impatient and distressed, with every useless paper her eyes scrolled upon.

"Ede," The parchment in my hand felt different from the others, and bared a slightly lighter colour. It felt was much smoother, and the font was faint and richly inked. Ede leaned over me, snatching it out from my fingers. Her skinny eyes narrowed further, her breath drawn as she inhaled the inscriptions.

"What's this?" It was not scripture I was familiar with. In truth, it looked like the writings of the old years, a retired tongue that had not been used in the modern eras. Castor leaned over, taking a glance. "What language is this?"

"It's Gérontas." Castor confirmed my suspicions, naming the unused word of mouth.
"Who in all the seven realms still speaks Gérontas?"
"It is part of our training. All guard-houses take practise in learning it so we can communicate in code. If our carrier birds are intercepted, it prevents confidential information from being seen to the wrong eyes." Impressed, she edged the parchment closer to his eyes.
"That is private! Castor, don't you dare-"
"It was sent from a person signed off as Trenton."

"I knew it!" Ede shrieked out, the volume of her words lifting with her growing rage.

"Trenton is an associate of Molton? Oh, please, tell me there is no truth to this...."

"Read it!" The wood nymph demanded, taking pleasure in seeing Rossli sweat. The head-guard could do nothing, but listen as Castor cleared his throat and read from the parchment.

"I write to you in urgency. The teleporter has instruction....but still I hold small faith to his success....trackers will be standing by....I trust your command to eliminate the wood nymph and all those recruited to their cause....the teleporter has given word they are holding out at Varsoll Manor, south of Vargnus Bridge...."

"It's all lies!" Rossli spoke above her, chasing her round the curve of the table.

"It's all here in black and white!" Castor was in too much shock to retain Rossli. His eyes were as widened as his mouth. "Do what needs to be done....spare the siren if possible....her abilities will be of use to Molton....and of sentimental value to the boy....as always be discreet..."
"It was you that planned the attack on Thorn's cottage!" Neevi jumped up, anger consuming her bones. "I bet it was you that started that fire at Wakenage too!"

Rossli threw Castor aside momentarily, galloping over toward Ede in a mighty dash. His hand was lifted, with fingers sprayed out flatly as though he was about to strike out. Castor weaved himself between the head-guard and Ede, fastening his fingers around his curled fist, squashing his violent intentions. He fought, as we surrounded him, his back to the wall. His irises span from left to right in a garish rotation, trying to plot a weak link in our huddled prison. Upon Castor's instruction, we linked arms, moving forward to block him in. Castor took the brunt of his attacks, braving Rossli's fury as we cornered him.

"There is nothing you can do to stop Molton's will. You think anyone will listen to your outrageous claims? The court will lock you up and open up your head to find what sickness has infected your mind!" He was as stubborn as a centaur was known for, unable to back down from the fight. His face had flooded with rage, his fists remaining curled, like a cog wounded too far.

"We have all the proof we need!" Ede said, keenly flashing the parchment toward his line of sight. The slightly yellowed paper flickered in front of his face, and I could see in the sheen of his pupils that he was chasing its movements, like a mountain cat prying on its next meal. Rossli rose to the bait and stole the implicating document from her hand, tearing a third of its matter. Without thought, he crammed the retrieved segment and scrunched it between his teeth. His cheeks chewed dryly, until he was able to swallow the evidence.

"No matter." She turned toward Billen, clamping her fingers around his folded biceps, swallowed underneath his billowing coat. Rossli's attentions were seized by our prisoner. His eyes narrowed as he examined Billen's face, taking care to carve the markings on his face with his pupils.

"Molton would not be pleased to hear of such perfidy, coming from her own painted soldiers. Tell me, were you not one of those in rank during the wood nymph cull?"

"No." He said, sheepishly.

"Straight out of the dungeons, I presume." Billen said not a word, but shook his head. His eyes painted a painful memory. "Molton has given you a second lease of life and this is how you repay her? You dare to speak ill of all that woman has done for you!"

"Enough!" Ede screeched out, a little to loud to go unnoticed. The sound of moving hooves on the floors above us were as predominant as ever. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way..." Her fingers unveiled her blade, and she hoisted it up toward his neck. He wound in his head as far as his bones would allow, causing the skin around his neck to ripple up in wrinkled rolls.

"Molton comes for you, wood nymph. All of her men are after you....you, and that disgusting siren whore!" The apple of his throat bobbed up and down with each swallowed word. "Killing me will be the biggest mistake you make. Without me reporting back, they will know something is wrong. Without me, you are dead."

"The bounty for my head will stick whether you live or not." She muttered, skimming the chill of the knife against the spikes of his beard. There was a long pause, which he spend eying us all, one by one. Ede dropped the height of the knife a little, nudging him to begin traveling toward the door. But this battle was far from won. He resisted her demands, throwing a underarm jab into his chest.

"Ede!" I broke away from our fence, and in reaction, Billen stood back too. Ede winced out, the breath from her lungs knocked out off her. Rossli was no fool and did not waste such an opportunity; he seized hold of her hand and forced it back, further than any bones would allow.

She cried out, as her wrist snapped.

The echo of the breakage mimicked that of a heavy boot cracking twigs beneath its weight. I caught sight of her wrist; it had flopped over backwards in a sickening view, with her fingers arched from the jagged pain. The off-white carving of her bone had penetrated her skin, causing an eruption of red to burst out around the seal. She cradled her forearm ruthlessly with her other hand, trying to support it as best she could. I felt my stomach sink and rise up once more, causing a nauseating motion to occur.

Amidst all the chaos, Rossli snatched up Ede's knife from the floor, and extended it out towards Ede. His fingers coiled around it, raising up to strike the wood nymph. In a moment, Ede's life would have been left to bleed out upon the floor of his quarters. Had it not been for me, throwing her body to the ground. Frustrated at failure to murder Ede, he reached out for the next best thing. Billen.

"Let me go!" Billen protested, his head locked in the head-guard's arms. Rossli ripped off the over-sized coat he had been dressed in, exposing his bounded arms, wrapped securely to his torso with stripped bedsheets. I felt almost guilty that Rossli was profiting from his disadvantages. He slugged him down to his knees, knocking him with his front hooves.

Castor moved forward, but Rossli had expected as much. He lunged the knife towards his chest, and then towards Neevi, whom had dashed to Castor's aid.

"Stay back! All of you!" His voice was coarse and dark, like a demon. He gripped Billen by the hair, dragging him from the floor. "Justice must be done. You have failed Molton in every distinction imaginable. You loyalties no longer lie for your ruler, and therefore no longer lie with mercy."

"Please!" Billen was begging, pleading for us to help. But nothing could be done. Castor goaded Neevi as far away from the blade as possible. His eyes were frightened and bright, like I had never seen them before. "Have mercy! I did as the wood nymph asked of me! I had no choice!"

"Pathetic! Look at you! Dressed up like her puppet. You are not worthy to wear the mark of Molton!"

Rossli dug the knife into Billen's cheek, outlining the blackened swoops painted across his face. I gasped, turning away in horror as his pores flooded with a deep red, rotting the tanned colour of his flesh. He cried out in pain, trying to weave himself away from the knife but that seemed only to make matters worse. Rossli seemed to be enjoying his struggle, taking no care until he had managed to rip off a reasonable sized piece of his cheek. Rossli tossed the segment of Billen's face like a piece of meat. It slid across the wooden boards on a wave of blood.

"Stop!" I managed to speak, in between spewing up bile. The tissue of his face hung out like raw meat, deeply burrowed and permanent. I couldn't look at him without my stomach heaving up a fresh gush of vomit. Tears streamed down his face, silently begging for the torture to end. Fortunately for him, his wishes were granted and Rossli proceeded to thrust the knife through his chest. The white lining of the bed sheets quickly adapted the brooding red tint of his blood, as it oozed out from heart. Rossli twisted the knife into his body once more, thoroughly prodding its metallic curve until the handle was submerged into his skin.

"The world has no place for those whom betray!" He released his grasp upon Billen's hair, allowing his body to fall limp to the ground. The last of his life coughed up through his lungs, until there was nothing.

Billen was dead.

Our only evidence of Molton and Rossli's crimes was silenced. Destroyed, as were our chances of escape.

"Guards!" The head-guard summoned, his gravelly voice booming all around us. Castor charged toward him and forced him to the ground, their hooves toppling over one and another in a vicious tug-of-war. "What a sight this will make for the guards." Rossli spat out, pinching his nails across Castor's face. Trails of blood smeared across his face, painted in a similar pattern as to what Billen had worn. Neevi dashed toward the door, lining her ears against the panels.

"I can keep them distracted, but not for long."

"Neevi, stay here!" Castor ordered, but she had already slipped out of the door. Rossli continued to bellow out, trying to draw attention urgently. Castor slammed his fists into his face, but that did little to quieten him. With another swipe to the jaw, Rossli released the knife from his hand. It lay covered in the innocent blood of Billen.

"You know what to do, Thorn." Ede instructed, heading outside of Rossli's quarters to help the fox. "Silence him, as quick as possible."

Nervous was not a strong enough word to explain the flutter of my heart. I grappled the blade between my fingers, my head dizzying light from the sight of the blood. It was everywhere, seeping onto everything in sight. The yellowed spits of parchment on the floor acted as small islands amongst the river of blood.

"Strike him in the chest. As deep as you can manage!" Castor offered his expertise. I raised the blade, but was hesitant.

"You all think that you are better than Molton...." Rossli spoke out. I did my best to ignore him, but it was difficult. His sickened words were all I could hear. His blooded hands were all I could see. "...but take a look at what you are doing! Taking my life makes you no better than the monsters you love to despise."

"Thorn..." Castor prompted, leaning his weight through his shoulder onto the older man. "There's no time. Do it, or give me the blade."

"Listen to me, siren whore! Do you honestly believe you can overthrow Molton? She has more men at her disposal than there are villagers in this realm! Killing me will not bring you peace...it will bring war!"

"We are already at war....from the moment she first lay a hand on Arrain." I replied circuitously, flattening the knife through his skin slowly.

The jagged edge sank through his chest like a rock skimming off the waters edge. His blood began to pool in the dips of his breasts, and I could not take my eyes away from it. I thrust it deeper, loosing sight of the sheen within his flesh. He remained brave, as a centaur was known for, and only responded with a diffuse grunt as the blade reached the tough membrane of his heart. It pierced through it without much difficulty, causing the handle to vibrate from his last, intense beats. My hand began to shake, although I still could not remove my eyes from him. His heart began to weaken, until it stopped pacing and entered rest.

"Is he?"

"He's dead."

Out of respect, Castor rolled down Rossli's eyelids and asked me if I had any spare coinage. I asked him, out of curiosity, as to why he was acting so kindly toward such a cruel and dishonest being, as I handed him two coins. I kept an additional two in hand, as I wandered toward Billen to mimic this ritual of death.

"I do this," Castor finally replied, "as I do not wish him to enter a life in the shade. Once he has reached the underworld, he there can be judged. We may fight for justice in this world, but in the next, it is out of our hands."

"Billen did not deserve this..." His eyes were glazed over - just white - yet still so full of fear. I tried to ignore the large, gaping gash in his face and swiftly placed the two coins over his eyes.

"He was still a soldier to Molton's army, regardless of his history. He may have won your kindness but don't believe he would have returned such sweetness."

"All he wanted was his freedom." I said, my eyes passing a tear for him.

"He is free now, Thorn. No longer will he suffer in our world."

I grieved for him, allowing his soul to pass through the shade and into the underworld.

"Now, we must move. Once the guards learn of Rossli's death, there will be a complete lock down on the city. It will be almost impossible to leave Vargnus's borders."

"I'm sorry, Castor." I mumbled, tugging out the blade from Rossli's chest. "If not for me, you would still be safe."

"Do not apologize. If not for you, I would have died living in this city of lies. I am still coming to terms with Rossli's betrayal. I had always thought him a good man....I guess we only see the sides of people that they allow."

"It makes you wonder who to trust, doesn't it?"

"Indeed," He said, troubled. "This world is such a curious place. I fear we will never live to understand it."

"Maybe there are things we were never intended to know." I thought of Mother as I spoke. Never before had I missed her as much. It was strange, for I could almost feel the eyes of her soul watching me.

"Maybe," the centaur sighed, his lips pouting up in his dizzying thoughts. "Or maybe, not."

Description
The centaur did not lie; the keep was before our very eyes, between the inordinate bushes of green and spiked yellow flowers. The building was once used as a place of worship towards the seventh deity, the goddess of love and her child, the blessed son of melody. Out of all the deities, she was the most favoured. It was believed every realm held a temple in her name, although most had been destroyed or abandoned in time. The other deities were said to be jealous of her praise, and had threatened mortal man into erecting temples for each of them. With the height of religion dissolving over time, the need for such glorious buildings of worship fell and their temples were often converted into other means. Most realms used them for royal housing or galleries of treasure. Vargnus was no different.

The seventh deities temple stood the proudest and most pleasing of all the religious buildings in the realm. The white stone stood as tall as the clouds, with a border of red and gold detail at the edges. Carvings of mortal men and women bowing low and lifting fruit baskets gripped the side walls, leaving the biggest feature to be that of the deity herself. Her son, portrayed as a small boy, stood coyly beside her, clutching the flowing fabric of her sleeves. As a child, I was left amazed at such detail. And even now, I caught myself gasping at such beauty.

"The seventh deity...." Ede remarked, as we passed by her statuesque wall. "Folk were so blinded by her beauty, they forgot all about the others. I do not blame them for their retaliation on man."

"She was the god of the people," Neevi never needed an excuse to pick a fight with the wood nymph. "How can you spew hate on the one deity that cared so much for folk like us?"

"On humans, yes. And perhaps other sub-species. But wood nymphs? No...."

"Mother believed the seventh deity was the first siren." I added, trying to fizzle out the fuse to their fight. "She said it was the reason folk praised her so much, for they had fallen in love with her upon sight. It was not as though she had offered the world any more than the other deities."

"I suppose that's true," Ede pondered in thought. "It would make sense as to why tricked the deity of colour into marriage, too."

"Come along," Castor huffed, impatient. "We do not have time to sight-see."

The guards barrack entrance was something of a secret to me. I had never really given it much thought in truth. If one had asked of me for it's direction, I would have had little to offer. Yet, in knowledge of it's position, it seemed almost foolish not to have known previously. It's doorway sat in the large pillar, before the large palace gates, illuminated gloriously by the stained glass windows.

"This way," Castor prompted, turning his head of hair towards Ede and Billen. The prisoner, although agreeing somewhat to cooperate, still was not warm to the idea of speaking ill against Molton.

"I do not like this place," he expressed, swallowing the nervous lump in the depth of his throat. "I am getting a terrible vibe."

"Me too...." Neevi seemed more familiar with the guards barracks, and although in fox form, she still kept her head bowed low. The closer our feet approached, the more centaurs we passed. Each gave a nod of recognition towards Castor, and a few stray glances towards us.

"Do not worry, Neevi. If you are with me, you will be greeted warmly." The centaur reassured, although she did not look so confident.

"You sure?" She asked again. "That bastard councillor would love to see my face behind bars..."

"Just keep your mouth hushed and you won't see any bother. And for deities sake, do not touch anything!" He knew her too well. A brooding smirk lit up on her face.

"I quite fancied having some armour like Thorns-"

"I cannot remove your name from trouble for much longer. There is only so much I can do to erase your crimes. Any tampering within the keep itself is something even I could not defend. Promise me you will not do anything stupid."

"Stupid? Me? Do you not know that foxes are creatures celebrated for their cunning wit?"

"Even the deities can make mistakes." Ede grinned wickedly to herself.

"I am as serious as the shores, Neevi. You must vow to keep that curious nose of yours out of trouble. And your wandering hands to yourself." He shot her a firm look. "If anything were to happen to you, I'd....I'd..." His mouth dried out, lost for the right words.

"Lose the best drinking companion you'd ever hope to find?"

"Exactly. Now, I will speak to Rossli, head of the guards fleet. If our claim is to fall flat, I trust only his ears to keep it to himself."

"And if he doesn't?" Ede was truly not taking any chances. "It's a danger to us all if the wrong words are to leave-"

"Just let me do the talking," Castor knocked three times in sequence upon the large wooden framed doors, signalling the gates-man to slide open the eye hatch. He stepped in front of us, his towering frame blocking us all from view. I saw, over his shoulders, a set of dark eyes scanning down, softening upon recognition.

"Castor?" He spoke heartily. He showed his face more through the latch, wearing a blunt smile. A large beard grew down his chin, rather like the hanging moss that hung from the roof of the palace roof.

"Greetings Verraad!"

"What in all the realms are you doing here?" His voice rasped over the squeal of the hinges, as the door was cranked open from the inside. The sunlight crept through the shadows, igniting a thick glare of white to skim over the centaur's face.

"I am here to speak to Rossli on business." Castor mumbled, clearing his throat. His eyes were quivering with nervousness.

"No need for formalities." Verraad unbolted the doors, their mechanisms crying from age as they moved. The main chamber was opened to us. "He's where he always is." The doorman added, as Castor passed him briskly.

"Keeping taps on the trouble-makers?"

"Aye. Have you been rounding up a few more?" He asked, his face falling upon us. "What a curious group of people there is here. Friends of yours?"
"Yes, the business I will discussing involves them all." Verradd led us down to the basement level, hunching his large frame down as he bent to fit through a small wooden door, blackened and parched from age. The keep, as it was known by the guards, was much larger than I had expected. It seemed the brickwork fooled the eyes into thinking it was much slimmer, yet rooms seemed to stem from each neck of the corridors.

"How have you been keeping, anyhow? I must admit I have missed your face since retirement season."

"Well, brother. My life is at peace...." His eyes turned to the fox, as he mumbled. "Mostly."

"I do not envy you, Castor." Verraad added, as we approached Rossli's quarters. "Whilst we fight for the peace and quiet of our realm, I do not know what I'd do besides it. Without injustice, my soul would be mighty bored."

"Peace and boredom are two very different things." Castor reminded. "Never wish away peace, for some who fight to see it rarely do."

"I'll leave you to it. I presume you still know the way." The doorman gestured down the staircase. It was narrow and the stonework was blue and cold.

"Indeed." Came his reply, and Verraad left us for a quiet time.

"I still do not like the idea of this....." Billen's teeth were chattering in his jaw. "I am getting bad vibes from this place."

"Me too." Ede was the last person I had expected to agree with the prisoner. But it seemed a fair point. I, too, felt a sense of nervousness as Castor banged his knuckles against Rossli's door.

"Keep your mouths to yourselves and there will be nothing to worry about." There was no turning back. I ignored every instinct within me to turn back. I knew I had to do this. For Arrain. For justice.

Rossli was found standing over a large, squared desk, observing several scrolls of parchment and maps that coated the table. He was humming lightly to himself, some old folks song that I recognized from Mother's throat. The head-guard warmed from his stern frown of business, upon sight of Castor, and winded his arms around him.

"Castor!" The voice boomed out from an elderly-looking centaur, much more powerful than one would expect. His hair was withered silver, and stretched down from the centre of his scalp down into frail ends by his shoulders. His eyes were encased in dark rings, burrowing underneath years of war and freckles seasoned with age.

"Rossli, it has been an age since we last spoke."

"Yes. Too long if you ask me." I noticed him push over a few layers of the parchment so that they were out of view, although I suspected that was due to the confidential nature of their business. His eyes inspected us briefly, but did not concern themselves to long in our motives. Castor bowed to the side of him, embracing the older man warmly. "It seems only yesterday you withdrew from the fleet. What a loss it was for the city watch that day. How is retirement treating you?"

“It is all that I could have imagined. Quiet days, long nights, belly full of ale.” Castor chuckled to himself, his laughter complimented by Rossli's own melody of humour.

"Carry on like that, and I might be joining you into an early resignation!" He patted his back firmly. "And whom is it you have brought with you?"

"Friends."

"Fellow drinkers, aye? I must admit, I would wish to join you at your taverns one evening, but I seldom drag myself away from this place. You know how it is! There is always some drunkard lurking after dark, trying his luck on the market safes."

"Yes, I remember it only too well." He said with a sigh and roll of eyes.

"Did you hear news of the raid on Wakenage Tavern a few moons back?" I saw Neevi's ears prick up. "It was not something of our organisation, but as always, we were left to pick up the pieces. There was a right good fire. Saw the smoke from our tower posts. Flooded the whole sky until dawn."

"Do you know what happened?" Castor spoke for Neevi, hoping her patience and anger would not front. I saw her lips quivering, dying to speak out.

"Some drunken scrap, I imagine. Several dead, although most had fled by the time we reached it. I never understood what good it was, having a tavern out all that way. Whom in their right mind is going to hike there for their ale?"

"No idea." Castor said, flatly.

"Nothing good can come from such isolation. If I didn't know better, I'd say Skotádi-root farmers traded there.....out of the eyes of the city and all. Good riddance, I say. Anything that keeps our streets clean is alright with me." Neevi would have curled up her fingers into angry fists, if she had them. The tension of her restricted mouth radiated from her, hot and stormy. "Alas, let us not dwell on the grim facts. What brings you and your friends to our barracks, if not to reminisce.”

"I have a favour to ask." The nerves set in, and it cracked the confidence in his voice. Rossli's mouth opened in a vowel, curious as to what Castor had to say. "What I am about to share with you is a sensitive matter."

"Oh?"

"I ask of you only to keep this as confidential unless approved."

"I see." Rossli replied hastily, backing himself around the arch formed between my frame and Billen at the rear of the room. "Then I'll shall make sure there are no wandering ears...."

He was swift to close the door, ensuring the mechanism locked into place. I felt a lump gather in my throat, and I knew the taste of anxiety was shared between us all. Castor, above all, could hardly contain his nerves. His knees were buckling. Neevi stretched up beside his front legs, coiling her mischievous tail around him for comfort.

"So...what seems to be troubling your mind?" Rossli had returned to his position, out-facing the desk.

"There is no easy way to begin this, so I will speak with a blunt tongue. I have heard news of the ruler abusing her position of justice." Castor spoke, as firmly as he could manage. A silence fell rather suddenly, allowing the hooves of the upper floor to be heard trotting amongst the hard-flooring. "The realm of Nilichon-"

"Nilichon?" Rossli's hands scrolled over his face, smearing the pink tissue of his lips. "That's rather far out of our jurisdiction. Have you ever been to such a place?"

"Not quite, but she-" The younger centaur attempted to speak out, but Rossli denied him such a privilege.

"Our watch extends only to the soil of Vargnus. And besides which, the actions of a ruler are that of her own." He spoke with a downward tone, like a Father scolding his kin. His warmly stance seemed to shift altogether, starting with his folded arms and pinched brow. Castor's respect for the head-guard got the better of him, and he retreated by my side, his skin pale with worry. "Her actions, be it wrong or otherwise, do not affect our townspeople. We have no business interfering with any foreign rulings."

"Even if her rulings are completely unjust!" Ede could not bite her tongue. She stepped out of line from the rest of us, jolting forward toward Rossli, although he did not seemed surprised. Their faces were pressed together, almost touching, but not quite.

"Who are you?"

"It does not matter who I am. You guards are all the same. You speak through the hunger of justice, yet when presented with news of such barbaric practice, you cower away in your towers. Innocent people are in need of protection. Surely that is the duty of your men, be it this realm or another?"

"I was curious to know what tempted a young girl to don such heavy armour." Rossli sneered, his upper lip curdling to bare his teeth. He preoccupied his interests in the papers piled upon his desk, sighing dramatically to himself. But Ede's frustration spoke for her, compelling her hands to swipe at the pieces of parchment, scattering them amongst the ground. His sharp eyes scanned her, from foot to forehead, with a look of disgust. "And a wood nymph at that. Your kind do no belong on city streets; you cannot abide by anything but your rural structure."

"Do not bring race into this." She spat back, full of attitude as the night we had met. And whilst I usually disapproved of her fiery behaviour, this was one such occasion that held an exception. To say I was shocked at the head-guards remarks was an understatement; not only for his intolerance at Ede's heritage, but for his lack of appetite for justice. He had barely let Castor speak a handful of words, let alone disclose any of the abusive acts of Molton. There was gravel in Ede's continuous case, and for a moment, not only did we share the same unconditional thirst for integrity, but rejection from our bloodline.

I saw her swallow the heated words that burnt the roof of her mouth, knowing she had to keep Rossli sweet if we were to grasp any hope of recruiting the guards fleet toward our cause.

"I advise you return to the high woodlands where you were born, and cease burdening Castor and Vargnus townspeople with your hot-headed nonsense." His warm breath fanned out, seeping through all the pores upon Ede's face in a stern gust. She blinked, stepping back. Her eyes were glazed over with a layer of tears that seemed rather odd on her face. She wasn't one to cry.

"It will be a burden to us all if we do not act now!" She spoke, less harshly. She stepped back toward us slightly, greeted by my hand cupping her shoulder. "It seems nobody wants to address the threat she possesses, but soon enough it will be a problem to all the realms. Maybe then, people like you will wish you could have nipped it in the bud and heeded my warnings."

"Tell me, do you have sufficient proof of this ruler's wrongdoings?" Rossli grunted through his teeth, narrowing his eyes in an intense glare. "Or do you throw accusations around for the hell of it?"

"The blood of my family, and countless others." Ede turned to me momentarily, our eyes catching like magnets. There was a raw pain in her voice, as though she was re-living the moment her family were taken from her. But it was briskly cast aside, and the business front of the matter came forward. "Is that enough, or would you like to here a testament from one of her henchmen?" The wood nymph latched onto Billen's shoulder, shoving him forward like a piece of meat. The mercenary stood sheepishly in the centre of the room, remaining still as Rossli circled him with inspecting eyes.

"You expect me to take his word? He could be a stranger from the street for all I know. Given coinage to speak for you. What proof is there in hired words?"

"Just look at the markings on his face; they are the mark of her rein. Tell him, Billen!" Ede was trying in vain to adjust Rossli's mind, but it seemed he could not be swayed. Billen's tongue had been tied in knots, and he could not manage to speak a single word. Ede's frustration in him did not help matters, as she struck his back with her fist several times. "Billen! Speak the truth! Speak it or I'll knock it from your lungs!"

"It's true." He stammered. His voice sounded most cowardly but I knew he was far from it. This was the bravest thing he had done. "She trials those that are not guilty. She finds sentencing that is unjust and treats those she captures as slaves. I spent my life in her dungeons."

"I have heard enough!" Rossli silenced. "I have genuine matters to attend to."

"Billen, tell him more. Go on! Tell him of all the murders and the lies, of the blood that stains her fingers!" Ede was not allowing him to brush it under the carpet. It was much too late for that.

"My ears will not hear another word. Since you cannot offer any substantial evidence of this rulers supposed crimes, I have no option but to dismiss this claim. If you were wise, you would remove all that you thought you knew of Nilichon and head back to your alehouse."

"Rossli," Castor attempted to reason once more, although his voice still lacked confidence. "You can't honestly expect me to forget this? What about justice for-"

"If you seek justice so keenly, perhaps you'd find it appropriate for me to disclose this act of treason to the royal court." His lips curled into a smug pout. Their eyes met in an intense battle, as though they would stand their ground until death.

"Castor, let's leave." Neevi chimed in, tugging at the bristly hair that coated the centaurs leg. But Castor's stubborn nature was in full force, and he did not break eye contact for a second. "Castor, please?" She encouraged, looking toward me for support.

"Neevi's right." I added, stepping between the two of them. I felt the tension in their eyes divert around me in a blinding anger. "We'll be no good to anybody behind bars. Come on, let's go." Reluctantly, the centaur admitted defeat and let his head fall to the floor in shame.

"It seems not all your friends have lost their minds."

"You'll regret this, you know." Ede sneered toward the elderly-looking centaur, primed on having the last word. But Rossli's pride ruled him on having that luxury.

"The only regret to be had," He scoffed, under his breath. "is that Molton did not wipe out all of you filthy wood nymphs. Perhaps then I wouldn't be bothered with such-"

"We never mentioned her name...." My thoughts were carried aloud, forcing Ede to hold back on the inevitable rage spewing over from Rossli's racist remarks. All eyes returned to him, as the realization set in that he was harbouring more detail than he was letting on. The betrayal was carved hardly on Castor's face.

"Yes, yes you did." He protested, with a look of terror diluting his dark eyes. He turned to Castor, trying to dismiss our grieving faces. "How else would I know her name? Castor, you know better than most that I would never lead a life of such corruption."

"Do I?" Castor snarled, weaving himself face-to-face with the dishonest centaur. "The man I thought I knew would never have allowed folk to suffer, be it in this realm or next."

He boxed Rossli against the pane of the door. His arms were wedged by his sides, unable to break free. Instantly, he ordered Castor to liberate him, although his requests fell on deaf ears. Ede, feeling rather confident with Castor's restrictions over the head-guard, strutted over toward the desk, leaning down to snatch up the private documents he had been so keen to shield from our eyes.

"Castor, this is absurd! Release me at once! I can have you arrested for this!" Rossli barked out. Instantly, it became clear we had ruffled a few feathers. His face flooded with blistering fear. "Do not touch anything, you vile wood nymph! There is nothing for your eyes!"

"If you've got nothing to hide, then why is it you look so worried?" I assisted Ede's searches. There didn't seem to be anything of use. It was all official guard-work; listings of recent crimes, individuals to keep watch on, and so on. The mass of paperwork would take hours to properly sieve through through, and it was time we simply did not have. If not for Arrain, for the restraints Castor was wrapping on Rossli. It was anyone's guess how long he could keep his stubborn heart pinned.

"There must be something-" The wood nymph was growing impatient and distressed, with every useless paper her eyes scrolled upon.

"Ede," The parchment in my hand felt different from the others, and bared a slightly lighter colour. It felt was much smoother, and the font was faint and richly inked. Ede leaned over me, snatching it out from my fingers. Her skinny eyes narrowed further, her breath drawn as she inhaled the inscriptions.

"What's this?" It was not scripture I was familiar with. In truth, it looked like the writings of the old years, a retired tongue that had not been used in the modern eras. Castor leaned over, taking a glance. "What language is this?"

"It's Gérontas." Castor confirmed my suspicions, naming the unused word of mouth.
"Who in all the seven realms still speaks Gérontas?"
"It is part of our training. All guard-houses take practise in learning it so we can communicate in code. If our carrier birds are intercepted, it prevents confidential information from being seen to the wrong eyes." Impressed, she edged the parchment closer to his eyes.
"That is private! Castor, don't you dare-"
"It was sent from a person signed off as Trenton."

"I knew it!" Ede shrieked out, the volume of her words lifting with her growing rage.

"Trenton is an associate of Molton? Oh, please, tell me there is no truth to this...."

"Read it!" The wood nymph demanded, taking pleasure in seeing Rossli sweat. The head-guard could do nothing, but listen as Castor cleared his throat and read from the parchment.

"I write to you in urgency. The teleporter has instruction....but still I hold small faith to his success....trackers will be standing by....I trust your command to eliminate the wood nymph and all those recruited to their cause....the teleporter has given word they are holding out at Varsoll Manor, south of Vargnus Bridge...."

"It's all lies!" Rossli spoke above her, chasing her round the curve of the table.

"It's all here in black and white!" Castor was in too much shock to retain Rossli. His eyes were as widened as his mouth. "Do what needs to be done....spare the siren if possible....her abilities will be of use to Molton....and of sentimental value to the boy....as always be discreet..."
"It was you that planned the attack on Thorn's cottage!" Neevi jumped up, anger consuming her bones. "I bet it was you that started that fire at Wakenage too!"

Rossli threw Castor aside momentarily, galloping over toward Ede in a mighty dash. His hand was lifted, with fingers sprayed out flatly as though he was about to strike out. Castor weaved himself between the head-guard and Ede, fastening his fingers around his curled fist, squashing his violent intentions. He fought, as we surrounded him, his back to the wall. His irises span from left to right in a garish rotation, trying to plot a weak link in our huddled prison. Upon Castor's instruction, we linked arms, moving forward to block him in. Castor took the brunt of his attacks, braving Rossli's fury as we cornered him.

"There is nothing you can do to stop Molton's will. You think anyone will listen to your outrageous claims? The court will lock you up and open up your head to find what sickness has infected your mind!" He was as stubborn as a centaur was known for, unable to back down from the fight. His face had flooded with rage, his fists remaining curled, like a cog wounded too far.

"We have all the proof we need!" Ede said, keenly flashing the parchment toward his line of sight. The slightly yellowed paper flickered in front of his face, and I could see in the sheen of his pupils that he was chasing its movements, like a mountain cat prying on its next meal. Rossli rose to the bait and stole the implicating document from her hand, tearing a third of its matter. Without thought, he crammed the retrieved segment and scrunched it between his teeth. His cheeks chewed dryly, until he was able to swallow the evidence.

"No matter." She turned toward Billen, clamping her fingers around his folded biceps, swallowed underneath his billowing coat. Rossli's attentions were seized by our prisoner. His eyes narrowed as he examined Billen's face, taking care to carve the markings on his face with his pupils.

"Molton would not be pleased to hear of such perfidy, coming from her own painted soldiers. Tell me, were you not one of those in rank during the wood nymph cull?"

"No." He said, sheepishly.

"Straight out of the dungeons, I presume." Billen said not a word, but shook his head. His eyes painted a painful memory. "Molton has given you a second lease of life and this is how you repay her? You dare to speak ill of all that woman has done for you!"

"Enough!" Ede screeched out, a little to loud to go unnoticed. The sound of moving hooves on the floors above us were as predominant as ever. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way..." Her fingers unveiled her blade, and she hoisted it up toward his neck. He wound in his head as far as his bones would allow, causing the skin around his neck to ripple up in wrinkled rolls.

"Molton comes for you, wood nymph. All of her men are after you....you, and that disgusting siren whore!" The apple of his throat bobbed up and down with each swallowed word. "Killing me will be the biggest mistake you make. Without me reporting back, they will know something is wrong. Without me, you are dead."

"The bounty for my head will stick whether you live or not." She muttered, skimming the chill of the knife against the spikes of his beard. There was a long pause, which he spend eying us all, one by one. Ede dropped the height of the knife a little, nudging him to begin traveling toward the door. But this battle was far from won. He resisted her demands, throwing a underarm jab into his chest.

"Ede!" I broke away from our fence, and in reaction, Billen stood back too. Ede winced out, the breath from her lungs knocked out off her. Rossli was no fool and did not waste such an opportunity; he seized hold of her hand and forced it back, further than any bones would allow.

She cried out, as her wrist snapped.

The echo of the breakage mimicked that of a heavy boot cracking twigs beneath its weight. I caught sight of her wrist; it had flopped over backwards in a sickening view, with her fingers arched from the jagged pain. The off-white carving of her bone had penetrated her skin, causing an eruption of red to burst out around the seal. She cradled her forearm ruthlessly with her other hand, trying to support it as best she could. I felt my stomach sink and rise up once more, causing a nauseating motion to occur.

Amidst all the chaos, Rossli snatched up Ede's knife from the floor, and extended it out towards Ede. His fingers coiled around it, raising up to strike the wood nymph. In a moment, Ede's life would have been left to bleed out upon the floor of his quarters. Had it not been for me, throwing her body to the ground. Frustrated at failure to murder Ede, he reached out for the next best thing. Billen.

"Let me go!" Billen protested, his head locked in the head-guard's arms. Rossli ripped off the over-sized coat he had been dressed in, exposing his bounded arms, wrapped securely to his torso with stripped bedsheets. I felt almost guilty that Rossli was profiting from his disadvantages. He slugged him down to his knees, knocking him with his front hooves.

Castor moved forward, but Rossli had expected as much. He lunged the knife towards his chest, and then towards Neevi, whom had dashed to Castor's aid.

"Stay back! All of you!" His voice was coarse and dark, like a demon. He gripped Billen by the hair, dragging him from the floor. "Justice must be done. You have failed Molton in every distinction imaginable. You loyalties no longer lie for your ruler, and therefore no longer lie with mercy."

"Please!" Billen was begging, pleading for us to help. But nothing could be done. Castor goaded Neevi as far away from the blade as possible. His eyes were frightened and bright, like I had never seen them before. "Have mercy! I did as the wood nymph asked of me! I had no choice!"

"Pathetic! Look at you! Dressed up like her puppet. You are not worthy to wear the mark of Molton!"

Rossli dug the knife into Billen's cheek, outlining the blackened swoops painted across his face. I gasped, turning away in horror as his pores flooded with a deep red, rotting the tanned colour of his flesh. He cried out in pain, trying to weave himself away from the knife but that seemed only to make matters worse. Rossli seemed to be enjoying his struggle, taking no care until he had managed to rip off a reasonable sized piece of his cheek. Rossli tossed the segment of Billen's face like a piece of meat. It slid across the wooden boards on a wave of blood.

"Stop!" I managed to speak, in between spewing up bile. The tissue of his face hung out like raw meat, deeply burrowed and permanent. I couldn't look at him without my stomach heaving up a fresh gush of vomit. Tears streamed down his face, silently begging for the torture to end. Fortunately for him, his wishes were granted and Rossli proceeded to thrust the knife through his chest. The white lining of the bed sheets quickly adapted the brooding red tint of his blood, as it oozed out from heart. Rossli twisted the knife into his body once more, thoroughly prodding its metallic curve until the handle was submerged into his skin.

"The world has no place for those whom betray!" He released his grasp upon Billen's hair, allowing his body to fall limp to the ground. The last of his life coughed up through his lungs, until there was nothing.

Billen was dead.

Our only evidence of Molton and Rossli's crimes was silenced. Destroyed, as were our chances of escape.

"Guards!" The head-guard summoned, his gravelly voice booming all around us. Castor charged toward him and forced him to the ground, their hooves toppling over one and another in a vicious tug-of-war. "What a sight this will make for the guards." Rossli spat out, pinching his nails across Castor's face. Trails of blood smeared across his face, painted in a similar pattern as to what Billen had worn. Neevi dashed toward the door, lining her ears against the panels.

"I can keep them distracted, but not for long."

"Neevi, stay here!" Castor ordered, but she had already slipped out of the door. Rossli continued to bellow out, trying to draw attention urgently. Castor slammed his fists into his face, but that did little to quieten him. With another swipe to the jaw, Rossli released the knife from his hand. It lay covered in the innocent blood of Billen.

"You know what to do, Thorn." Ede instructed, heading outside of Rossli's quarters to help the fox. "Silence him, as quick as possible."

Nervous was not a strong enough word to explain the flutter of my heart. I grappled the blade between my fingers, my head dizzying light from the sight of the blood. It was everywhere, seeping onto everything in sight. The yellowed spits of parchment on the floor acted as small islands amongst the river of blood.

"Strike him in the chest. As deep as you can manage!" Castor offered his expertise. I raised the blade, but was hesitant.

"You all think that you are better than Molton...." Rossli spoke out. I did my best to ignore him, but it was difficult. His sickened words were all I could hear. His blooded hands were all I could see. "...but take a look at what you are doing! Taking my life makes you no better than the monsters you love to despise."

"Thorn..." Castor prompted, leaning his weight through his shoulder onto the older man. "There's no time. Do it, or give me the blade."

"Listen to me, siren whore! Do you honestly believe you can overthrow Molton? She has more men at her disposal than there are villagers in this realm! Killing me will not bring you peace...it will bring war!"

"We are already at war....from the moment she first lay a hand on Arrain." I replied circuitously, flattening the knife through his skin slowly.

The jagged edge sank through his chest like a rock skimming off the waters edge. His blood began to pool in the dips of his breasts, and I could not take my eyes away from it. I thrust it deeper, loosing sight of the sheen within his flesh. He remained brave, as a centaur was known for, and only responded with a diffuse grunt as the blade reached the tough membrane of his heart. It pierced through it without much difficulty, causing the handle to vibrate from his last, intense beats. My hand began to shake, although I still could not remove my eyes from him. His heart began to weaken, until it stopped pacing and entered rest.

"Is he?"

"He's dead."

Out of respect, Castor rolled down Rossli's eyelids and asked me if I had any spare coinage. I asked him, out of curiosity, as to why he was acting so kindly toward such a cruel and dishonest being, as I handed him two coins. I kept an additional two in hand, as I wandered toward Billen to mimic this ritual of death.

"I do this," Castor finally replied, "as I do not wish him to enter a life in the shade. Once he has reached the underworld, he there can be judged. We may fight for justice in this world, but in the next, it is out of our hands."

"Billen did not deserve this..." His eyes were glazed over - just white - yet still so full of fear. I tried to ignore the large, gaping gash in his face and swiftly placed the two coins over his eyes.

"He was still a soldier to Molton's army, regardless of his history. He may have won your kindness but don't believe he would have returned such sweetness."

"All he wanted was his freedom." I said, my eyes passing a tear for him.

"He is free now, Thorn. No longer will he suffer in our world."

I grieved for him, allowing his soul to pass through the shade and into the underworld.

"Now, we must move. Once the guards learn of Rossli's death, there will be a complete lock down on the city. It will be almost impossible to leave Vargnus's borders."

"I'm sorry, Castor." I mumbled, tugging out the blade from Rossli's chest. "If not for me, you would still be safe."

"Do not apologize. If not for you, I would have died living in this city of lies. I am still coming to terms with Rossli's betrayal. I had always thought him a good man....I guess we only see the sides of people that they allow."

"It makes you wonder who to trust, doesn't it?"

"Indeed," He said, troubled. "This world is such a curious place. I fear we will never live to understand it."

"Maybe there are things we were never intended to know." I thought of Mother as I spoke. Never before had I missed her as much. It was strange, for I could almost feel the eyes of her soul watching me.

"Maybe," the centaur sighed, his lips pouting up in his dizzying thoughts. "Or maybe, not."