Outside of the Wanderlust Inn, Nick and Roland got the wagon ready as quickly as possible. The moment they were done, Roland jumped up on the front and grabbed the reins. “Let’s go,” he said to Nick.

“Jace?” asked Nick.

Roland shook his head.

“Long walk back to Bright Port,” said Nick as he hopped up next to Roland. “Sorry Jace.”

If the pair had looked back as they rode off, they would have seen Jace dragging the chest containing his early retirement savings through the inn’s front door. His journey with Roland and Nick came to an end the moment he called Stanky over to their table. Nick knew it was foolish to bring him along in the first place, but never anticipated this outcome.

Nick turned to Roland as they travelled further into the night, “You know, Stanky was by far the most stereotypical barkeep I’d ever seen. Imagine hanging around with that guy for more than a few minutes? Must have been tedious for him to talk in that stylized speech, dropping aitches and omitting those final ‘g’s.’ Worse, he wasn’t even that good at it. Inconsistent. Mal probably would have killed him sooner than you did.”

Roland just stared ahead into the dark night.

“It was a burdensome affectation, so maybe I shouldn’t judge him too harshly.”

Roland snapped back at Nick, “Irreverence is never in short supply with you, is it?”

“With me?” Nick paused for a bit. “No. With everyone else? Yes. Just stupidity and cruelty.”

Roland sighed, “Just take the reins. I can’t feel my hand.”

After a few more days on the road, Roland and Nick arrived at a hamlet called ‘Sunstroke.’ This name was probably given ironically as the fog here was denser than any other part of the Windswept Coast. Overlooking this small village was Charredweb Manor. Gazing up from the foot of the hill that it stood on, Roland could make out many rows of yellow lights through the thick mist. Someone was certainly home and whatever structure stood up there, it must be enormous. When they arrived at the gatehouse, there were no servants and the portcullis was down. The walls surrounding the manor were fairly high, but if there were no guards to stop them, they could probably be scaled.

As the pair stood in silence considering their next move, Roland felt a mild tingling sensation sweep across his body. Shortly after, a loud thud rang out. This was followed by the rattling of chains as the portcullis slowly rose.

“Spooky,” yawned Nick.

Riding past the gate, the mist began to dissipate. The lights they had seen when looking up from below also disappeared. There was no manor house. It was entirely an illusion. What instead sat on the top of the hill was a circular platform surrounded by eight granite obelisks.

“Well, this screams teleporter,” said Nick.

As Roland approached the platform, the same sensation he experienced at the gatehouse washed over him again. Moments later, the obelisks began to hum. An archway rose from the centre of the platform. The volume of the hum then increased to a loud buzz and a dry static charge filled the air. The passage under the arch slowly lit up. It glistened blue and swirled like liquified stained glass. Through the blue tint of the passage, Roland could see pieces of rock suspended in air. Whatever Roland was peering at, it looked nothing like anything he’d ever seen in Relmgard. Nick was right — this was a portal.

“Nailed that one,” said Nick. “When you’re good, you’re good. But really, have obelisks ever been used for anything except portals? Anyways, let’s get out of here. We’re almost at Valdt. Why not hit a few more brothels before we reach the border? Try to get that body count up.”

“You’re not serious, are you?” said Roland. “We can’t turn back now.”

“Rol, we’re in the land of rim jobs and face-sitting and you want to go into that deathscape? Let’s just press on to Valdt.”

“No. There are answers through there. Was Christoph just another ghoul like the rest of the Chosen? I need to know.”

“What difference does it make at this point? Let’s go shoot some dice at one of those pirate casinos. Every night is ladies’ night and — as long as you don’t leave your drink unattended — you’ll have a great time. Or, and I’m just putting this out there, you can find some dudes to stress test that new body of yours. Get airtight.”

“Nick, I may never have this chance again. If this really was some sort of trap, it could have just exploded and killed me when it activated.”

Nick looked exasperated, “That’s a gateway to a pocket dimension. My dad used to mess around with them. They’re small space-time bubbles that can burst at any moment. Great for psychological torture. Throw someone in there and they’ll talk. Decaying boundaries are more terrifying than they sound on paper.”

“This doesn’t seem temporary. It looks like it’s been around for a long time. I think it should be stable.”

“Oh really? Now you’re an expert on arcane cosmography? Why didn’t we just fast travel here then?”

“I won’t let the fear death stand in the way of my pursuit of the truth.”

“Well, that yearbook quote can go on your epitaph.”

Roland became irate, “Why are you suddenly so worried about my well-being? Mallory constantly put us in peril and you were nonchalant the entire time. We could have so easily been killed by Talon. Also, Mal’s indirectly responsible for me being a prisoner for two years. I don’t recall you doing anything to help me during that period.”

“Fine. Go ahead. No one ever fucking listens to me, anyways.”

“I see,” said Roland as he calmed down. “I’m sorry about what happened with Jace, but he chose his own path. What did you say about Tanner? He ‘got after it’? Well so did Jace.”

“That’s not it.”

Roland didn’t understand what Nick meant. However, he didn’t think it would be productive to press him any further.

“So you’re not coming with me then?” asked Roland.

“I will. But only because you made me feel really guilty for not trying to rescue you from that harem. Forced sex with numerous young women is every man’s worst nightmare.” Nick was trying not to smirk. “One day you’ll be celebrated for your perseverance, until then I guess I’ll have to carry the burden of knowing I didn’t do enough to help you.”

Finding it hard to stay angry at Nick and relieved that he was coming with him, Roland decided to quote a famous Cantermere saying that he always found ridiculous but was somewhat appropriate here: “Not all who suffer are wounded, and not all who are wounded can recognize suffering.” He had to bite down on his lip in order not to laugh. Regaining his composure, he said, “I forgive you.”

“Thanks, pal,” said Nick as he walked into the portal. Roland followed after him.

***

On the other side they found themselves on a ledge surrounded by numerous infinites. Above, there was a dark sky filled with an unusually large number of stars. Different tones rang out as these rhythmically pulsed. Below, there was an enormous swirling vortex of slowly fading light. Focusing on any direction along the horizon was to look back upon oneself.

“I mean, I’m glad it’s not a crypt in here but this contrived psychedelic mashup will get tired pretty quickly,” said Nick. “Total overkill with the starry night sky. Heavy-handed space and time symbolism is so played out.”

Nick seemed to be perfectly at home in this environment, but Roland was having trouble gaining his bearings. When Nick noticed that Roland was lost, he pointed to a door sitting on a floating rock. There were other rocks and fragments drifting between themselves and the door that could could easily serve as stepping stones. Nick grabbed Roland’s hand and they began jumping towards it. When they reached it, Nick pushed it open and they both fell through.

***

The portal hissed as it evaporated and the door slammed shut behind them. They found themselves in the large entrance hall of what looked like it could actually be a manor house. Lit candles that lined the walls and pillars provided lighting. Through the windows, Roland saw that thick clouds covered the sky outside. It was unclear if the house sat amongst rolling hills or in a dense forest as there was little natural light. Despite this, there was no doubt that they had exited the pocket dimension.

Once they had adjusted to their new surroundings their attention was drawn to centre of the hall. Standing there were a dozen stone figures, arranged in three rows of four, facing the door that Roland and Nick had just tumbled out of. Aside from their odd location, there was nothing remarkable about the statues. They looked just like normal people. Perhaps servants.

“Huh,” said Nick as he got close to one of them. “These statues weren’t carved from stone. Dudes were definitely petrified. Maybe a pet basilisk got out of its cage? Or a cockatrice came down the chimney?” He wiped a thick layer of dust off the nose of one of the stone figures. “Not recently, though.”

Normally Roland would have been skeptical of such an explanation, but having just passed through that portal, this seemed pretty mundane.

“You really think these are people that were petrified?”

“Most definitely, brother. When I was a kid, my dad loved turning his friends into stone. He’d petrify them and move them to some ‘hilarious’ location before casting stone-to-flesh. By far his favourite prank. I remember one time he did it to one of his generals. This guy was a lionar and, like most cat people, he hated water. So, he destoned him after putting him in the middle of a duck pond. To four-year-old Nick, that was the funniest thing I’d ever seen. That’s the type of guy dad was. Very broad humour.” Nick paused. “Although, he also loved gay panic jokes. Could never get enough of those. Pretty lazy material that doesn’t hold up so well.”

Nick continued to inspect the statues, “Mal and I got off easy because we’re immune to instant-death spells. Petrification technically qualifies as one of those.

“Anyways, if there’s a bottle of alsuline in this house, we could probably cure them.”

He looked around, “Or maybe Bone Zone up there can help us.”

There was an enormous, hooded creature standing at the top of the stair case. Draped in what looked to be a tattered black robe, it must have been ten feet tall. However, even from this distance, Roland could see that size was not its most unusual characteristic. Whatever body was under that torn cloth, it had no flesh. As it slowly moved down the stairs, Roland caught glimpses of its appendages. They were entirely bone. What he thought was some type of mask covering its face was actually the creature’s exposed skull. The claws on its feet scratched every step on the staircase as it made its way down towards Roland and Nick. Finally, when the giant was at the bottom of the staircase, the entrance hall lighting made it possible for Roland to get a clear view of the being. It appeared to be the animated skeleton of a giant bear that walked on its hind legs. What Roland had thought was a robe, was a weathered bear pelt that it wore as a hooded cape.

The creature spoke: “Please, lay off the bone references, wayward travellers. My patience for those ran out millennia ago. They are as stale as my zest for existence.”

“Hey B-dog, it’s been a cool minute,” said Nick as the creature slowly moved closer to the pair.

“B-dog? Bone Zone? Those monikers ring familiar. Were you acquainted with the Archfiend?” The eye sockets of the bone creature began to glow a bright yellow. “Ah, I see. The Archfiend’s son is now a young man.”

The creature ground its teeth, “Remarkable. I thought only the Chosen could age that slowly.”

“Long story, BZ. By the way, what are you doing here?”

The creature now towered over Roland and Nick.

“Yes. That would be surprising to yourself, wouldn’t it? When it became clear that the Archfiend would be defeated by the Chosen, I surrendered myself to Christoph. He agreed not to destroy me if I would assist him in the day-to-day operations of Charredweb Manor. Apologies to your father, but his cause was lost at that point.”

“Huh, so you became Christoph’s butler?” chuckled Nick. “Never had you as the buttling type. Weren’t you always talking about leaving it all behind and getting your realtors license?”

“Well, I haven’t existed since the dawn of creation by placing a high priority on my personal dignity.” He snorted. “So young Nick, what tempest carries you through this door? And who is your little companion?”

“No need to litigate the Heroic Age, I suppose,” said Nick. “Anyways, B-dog, you should be familiar with my girlfriend: Eliza of the Chosen.” The creature’s eyes glowed brighter than before when Nick said that name. Nick turned to Roland, “Eliza, this is ‘Bone Bruin, the Hard Dicked Ursine’ — I think he added that title because most people thought the ‘Bone’ part of his name referred only to the fact that he’s undead. While that’s true, he’s also a renowned cocksman. Quite the coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

“Time has not tempered your penchant for absurdity, young Nick.” The creature let out a deep burst of air then stared at Roland. “Eliza, how can it be that you travel with an adversary?”

Roland didn’t understand the reason why Nick introduced him as Eliza rather than Alys or Roland. Or why he called him his girlfriend. Despite Nick’s jocular tone, this creature must be as dangerous as it looked.

“That was many lifetimes ago,” said Roland. “We’re foes no longer.”

“Mmm,” grunted the creature.

“Well, time is the best salve for all wounds,” said Nick.

“I stand before you as evidence to the contrary.” The creature held up both of his arms. “At one point in history these were covered with muscle and fur.”

“Always flexing when there’s a lady around,” said Nick. “Anyways, a mutual friend set us up on a blind date and, well, three years later, here we are.”

“The fountain of your wit is truly endless, young Nick. But your age! How is it …”

Nick cut him off, “So what’s up with these statues?”

“The Master’s pupils,” huffed the creature. “They serve in his immortality cult. For those wrapped in flesh, eternal life is easily achieved. As you can see, though, it is not a compelling end in itself. He does occasionally release them to do his bidding; mundane, sexual, or otherwise.”

“So, Christoph preaches a free love philosophy to his converts?” asked Nick.

The creature huffed again, “That is a charitable way to put it.”

“Yeah, what cult leader doesn’t? Hope you aren’t forced to partake. That wouldn’t be cool.”

“My dignity is violated in many ways, but that is not one of them. So how may I assist young Nick and Eliza of the Chosen?”

“Christoph sent us here to retrieve some notes related to his research,” said Roland. “Does he have a study or lab that he uses often? Take us there.”

“You’re interested in his research? I’ve always been kept in the dark as to what he investigates.” The creature waved its hand over the head of one of the statues. Dust filled the air. “Where is the master anyways? He’s been away for such a long time.”

“The affairs of the Chosen are none of your concern,” said Roland. “Know your place, worm food.”

The creature’s eyes went bright again.

“That’s my little firebrand!” said Nick as he put his arm around Roland and squeezed him.

“Very well. Follow me, Eliza.”

“Queen Eliza,” said Roland.

“Certainly, Your Majesty. This way.”

Was this creature merely suspicious of their lies or did he already know the truth? Likely the latter. Unless Nick knew something that he couldn’t openly share, it seemed that they were in grave danger. Intimidation would probably fail here and there was no way this creature could be dispatched with a chopstick.