She ran through the halls, glad that most of the attention seemed to be focused elsewhere, her wings dimming and fading. In the low light, she probably looked like another soldier running to tend to urgent business, going un-noticed. But what the hell was going on? That crown effect was making people act like they were betraying their allies, but there was no sign of however was casting it.

She rounded a corner and came across the aftermath of a fight. Four bodies were tangled together in a bloodied heap, wounds still fresh, blood still wet. She stopped to check them – the wounds looked like they were from swords or singed by magical fire. One of the bodies was that of a wizard, dressed in their combat robes. She quickly checked them, finding that a soldier was still breathing, but barely, in short and pained pants. Golden light washed out from her hands, and their breathing softened, their eyes fluttering open.

‘I… I didn’t want to. It was a madness! I couldn’t… couldn’t control myself.’

Stathis stroked his head, trying to calm him down and keep him for making his wounds worse. ‘Just rest. Don’t worry about it.’ She took his weapon away, just in case he tried to do anything foolish, making sure that there wasn’t anything immediately dangerous close to him.

She heard movement behind herself and spun to see a cloaked figure. Their hood was down, revealing a face that was a ruined mass of scar tissue for a moment, before suddenly filling itself in, becoming an excessively bland face, that wouldn’t stand out in a crowd at all. Their eyes gleamed with dark power, and she felt metal form around her forehead, something trying to command her, willing her to violence.

She stepped forward and thrust out, light blazing along her sword. They were slow to react but still managed to just about dodge, her blade slicing through fabric.

‘A strong will, stronger than the meat.’ Their voice was quiet and hissing, their jaw not quite moving in time with their words. She shifted her stance to attack sideways, feeling her blade connect, sending a blazing ripple of golden energy down the blade. It cut deeply into flesh, and they hissed in pain, jumping backwards.

‘Who are you?’ Stathis swung her blade again, this attack dodged.

‘One that shall rule amongst the elite. When this place falls to chaos and strife, then the world shall be ours. I am old and new, freshforged and old.’ They drew a knife and then stabbed forward into an attack. Stathis stepped back, taking the blow on her arm, making the most of being armoured again, simply taking the strike and counterattacking. She cut down across their chest, feeling the hit land home and cutting deep. She sliced through the cloak, revealing a bare chest, black blood seeping out.

As soon as she withdrew, the wound started to heal, already scabbing over. She stabbed again, this time cutting an arm. Their knife flashed towards her, ricocheting off her breastplate without effect.

They gestured at their healing wound. ‘You see? Your attacks are futile. Succumb to despair!’

Stathis smashed them in the face with her shield, feeling their nose break and shoving them backwards, following up with another swing, cutting deep into a shoulder. They healed fast, but from the sounds they were making, they still felt pain. They attacked back, knife aiming for her face this time, forcing her to dodge rather than just take it on her armour.

Bolts struck into them, smacking them backwards, knocking them into a wall and dazing them. Stathis lunged, striking them in the heart, holy light bursting from her blade. Their skin smouldered and smoked and they gasped in pain, but the wound was already healing as Janaxia stroke out of the darkness.

Is this really the time for petty brawls? Janaxia flicked her hand and more bolts slammed home, knocking the attacker’s head into the wall with a brutal crack. We are all waiting for you.

A smaller haze of darkness moved forward, Skotadi appearing suddenly in a patch of moonlight. Before the attacker could recover, she stretched her hand out and placed it on their chest. Lines of darkness seethed under their skin, their flesh going tight and gaunt. Something was burrowing beneath their skin, a solid lump getting drawn downwards towards Skotadi’s hand, pulling itself through the skin, blood seeping out. Janaxia launched another cascade of bolts, keeping them pinned in place.

Stathis caught a glimpse of metal emerging from their skin, getting absorbed into Skotadi’s hand before they gave a loud moan and stopped struggling, their body sagging, then starting to disintegrate. There was a rank smell of rotten, rancid meat, flesh sloughing off bone. Stathis took a swift step backwards, Janaxia keeping a fastidious distance as Skotadi faded from sight.

Now, if we are quite done here, then this way. I would rather not overstay my welcome. It was a rather unpleasant departure last time.

‘Did you see what Skotadi did!?’

Everyone is waiting for you. This way.

There was no time given for further discussion as Janaxia broke into not quite a run, but certainly a brisk stride, her dress hissing and slithering around her. Skotadi occasionally appeared when beams of moonlight shone through a window but was otherwise invisible. As they moved, she could hear the sounds of more conflict, but it seemed to be winding down - what was going on? Hopefully it was under control.

The teleportation chambers had been guarded, but it looked as though the guards had all been knocked unconscious, then put to one side. They’d probably have headaches when they woke up, but nothing worse.

Stathis could see Hakara ahead of her, fingers weaving through a spell. ‘Can you get us out of here?’

A flash of steel shot through the air, Semari diving in the way and managing to deflect it, although there was a large rent down the front of her shirt. The flash shot backwards, Stathis ducking as it passed over her head.

Her mother was stood there, the sword hovering by her side, enchanted chainmail protecting her body, a shortsword in her other hand. ‘I don’t know what spirit or wraith you are, but you will leave my daughter’s body!’

The blade shot forward again, Stathis deflecting it with her shield but feeling the force of the impact jolt through her. ‘It’s me! There was just a whole bunch of crazy shit.’ Magic blurred her mother’s form as she moved with blinding speed, trying to move around Stathis, only blocked by Vrintar. A hilt-punch had enough force to stagger her slightly, as Stathis tried to fend off the hovering blade.

‘I should have dealt with the Uth Tremari whelp before she seduced you!’

Semari tried to jump into an attack, leading with a kick, but the attack was dodged and counted, a blade cracking against her face. As she staggered backwards, she almost knocked into Kivata.

‘I don’t think that’s what happened!’ Stathis ducked as the sword thrust at her again, managing to catch it with her shield and knocking it backwards, before smacking it with her own sword, making it sink lower. It spun suddenly, blade cutting at her legs, but her greaves held under the assault despite the metal screeching. ‘It’s a misunderstanding! Hakara, get us out of here!’

Chill magic flared around Hakara as she twisted her fingers and incanted, her crystals all glowing with power. The whole chamber started to shine, a surprised-looking Skotadi suddenly appearing, dark energy flickering around her hands, flowing into the magic streaming around Hakara.

The blade rose and then thrust across the room, aiming towards Janaxia. Stathis couldn’t move fast enough to do anything, Pajaran trying to block it, but the blade veered around her shield. It sliced into Janaxia’s shoulder, cutting through the dark silk. Janaxia snapped her fingers and darkness blossomed, everything vanishing, silence booming out. Stathis swung her sword towards where her mother had been, as the familiar freezing acid sensation burned against her skin, the distant stars seeming threatening and ominous.

She heard Hakara’s voice incant more of her spell, and then the world fell from beneath her feet. Instinctively, she tried to summon her wings, but couldn’t, unable to call up enough energy. Her stomach roiled, and she couldn’t tell up from down, or get any sense of direction. Everything was chaos and darkness as she fell or floated.

And then she landed, her back smacking into hard, solid stone. She shivered at biting, wet cold, before opening her eyes. Where the hell was she now? And where was everyone else?

She rose and looked around – it looked like a town, with lots of stone buildings around her, although no signs of people. Everything looked worn and damaged, but it hadn’t been abandoned long enough ago to collapse. The slate roofs were covered with a dusting of snow, icicles hanging from the eaves. And it was cold, a chill starting to seep into her armour.

There was a loud sneeze from behind her and she whirled, sword at the ready. Janaxia was there, arms crossed and shivering, sneezing again and then blowing her nose. Her clothing shimmered, bulking itself out into thick fabrics and furs, hiding her form entirely. And large hood, edged with white fur, formed around her head, making a stark contrast with her black hair. She glared at Stathis accusingly.

‘Hey, I don’t know where we are either! Any sign of the others? Skotadi was close to you.’

There was a scream from nearby, and Stathis ran towards it, sword at the ready. It was a town square, with several abandoned stalls around a large well. Three shambling figures were lurching towards Sen, their arms outstretched. Sen scrabbed backwards, trying to stay out of reach as Stathis swung for one, blade cutting through an arm. They looked part-frozen, their flesh black from frostbite, hands gnarled. She flicked her blade, withdrew and then cut again, this time managing to cut through the spine, their body tumbling to the ground.

It didn’t take long to finish off the other two, whatever magic kept them moving breaking apart. Their flopped and juddered a few times but lacked the power to do anything more.

Stathis helped Sen to her feet, brushing dirt off her dress. She was hunched and shivering, her dress utterly unsuitable for the cold climate of wherever-they-were.

‘Janaxia, can you look after her?’

Sen stumbled towards her, Janaxia holding her cloak open and looking excessively ominous for a moment before wrapping it around Sen.

‘Any idea where this place is?’

No, although I must say I do not approve of the climate.

‘Well, the sooner we get out of here, the better then. I guess we’re quite far north or south? Anyway, are you alright, to start with?’

I have suffered worse wounds. But to be attacked by your mother seems rather rude! Dis she greet all your paramours in the same fashion? Otherwise it is a most unfair bias.

‘I’m pretty sure your mother wants me dead and will probably be a lot harder to talk out of it than mine. You’ve faced her twice and survived though, that’s more than most can say. How’s the shoulder? I saw it get sliced.’

I will endure. Although it seems finding a comfortable bed may be something of a challenge. This place appears uncomfortably cold to boot.

‘OK. Let me know if it starts to ache or anything, don’t want you getting an infected wound. Uh, is Skotadi around? I’d expect her to be with you. And this place is probably dark enough for her, as she doesn’t seem to like the sun.’

There was a silence, the air utterly still as Janaxia tried to find the girl.

There she is.

Skotadi walked into sight, staring at the dead zombies with bland indifference. She sneezed, hard enough that her clothing rippled, before it vanished in a puff of shadows and was replaced by thick bundles of heavy furs, making her into a lump of heavy clothing, with only her eyes visible, her hands bundled into heavy mittens. Stathis tried not to laugh as Skotadi waddled over to Janaxia.

‘Janaxia, could you have a look at the bodies? See if there’s anything about them you recognise, and check that they’re properly dead, in a permanent fashion.’

Janaxia grumbled but obeyed, her movement slowed by having to keep Sen close, their steps awkward, the heavy cloak moving strangely around the pair of them. Janaxia found a stick and used it to poke at the parts, making intrigued sounds, Skotadi shivering uncomfortably next to her, despite all her layers of clothing.

They appear to have been created en-masse. Unimproved, and still in their natural state. Of limited use in combat, I suspect they would fall quickly even to simple militia and the like.

‘OK, can you tell if the necromancer that called them up is anywhere nearby? Or what they were doing?’ Statis turned to Skotadi, trying to figure out where in the bundle of clothing she actually was. ‘They didn’t bite you, did they? Blackrot can be nasty stuff.’

She narrowed her eyes at Stathis, or was possibly just wincing at a sudden cold wind, then shook her head.

‘Good. So, Janaxia, if these things were raised by a necromancer, then they weren’t wild – where did they come from? Close by?’

They appear fresh, aside from the effects of the cold. Animated, hmmm… maybe a few days ago?

Stathis looked around – the place looked rough and worn-down, but used, without being deep in weeds, or the buildings have collapsed. So what had happened? A rogue necromancer?

‘They might be survivors. Or, if nothing else, somewhere less cold, and maybe some food. Or some clue as to what’s happened or where we are.’

It didn’t take long to scout the area out. The place was a small settlement, protected by a well-made stone wall. There were signs of combat at the gate, the thing torn from its hinges and with blood frozen into puddles. There were no bodies, but if a necromancer was involved, then they had probably walked themselves away. Outside the gates was farmland, although what buildings she could see looked burned-out, the stone walls left behind, but the roofs all collapsed or burnt out. The road looked well-used, the mud all churned up by heavy use and then frozen solid by the biting cold.

Turning around, it was easy to see the centre of the town – raised up on a small hill was a stone keep, a round tower poking upwards towards the cloudy sky. Janaxia made a disgusted sound as she stood in a heap of mud, cleaning herself off with magic.

Sen appears to be suffering unduly due to the climate. Perhaps we should retire to somewhere more hospitable?

‘I guess she’s never seen snow before? I think we should check out the keep. It’s not been torn down, and it’ll give us shelter and cover. Be careful though, there might be more of those zombies about.’

They slowly made their way towards the keep, their progress slow from Stathis needing to wait for Janaxia and Sen to catch up, with Skotadi seeming to dislike the cold even more, her shoulders hunched in despite the thickness of her clothing.

There were more signs of combat as the approached, the buildings looking damaged, streaks of blood on some of the walls. The gatehouse had been smashed apart, the portcullis still down but with the metal warped and damaged, a large chunk somehow missing. Stathis poked the edge – it was jagged and sharp, like some force had simply ripped the metal apart.

The battle-damage here was worse – she spotted several bodies, or parts of them at least, crushed beneath a large block that had fallen from up high. Both looked like soldiers, wearing armour, spears close by. So whoever had attacked hadn’t bothered looting everything.

It was much the same inside – the doors had been left open, but it hadn’t been so long that much dirt had been able to blow in. Everything had been arranged for a hasty defence and then rent asunder, with tables propped up against doors pushed aside and broken. There were no valuables on the walls, the usual ornaments and decorations simply absent, although with clear gaps where they had once been.

Upstairs, they found what had probably once been the local lord’s quarters, or at least the furnishings were slightly better quality. Sen emerged from beneath Janaxia’s cloaks and strode over to the fireplace, quickly managing to spark a flame, holding her hands up to it with a satisfied sigh, Skotadi joining her, mittens fading away to reveal her hands.

Stathis went and closed the shutters to the narrow window, trying to keep the heat in, before continuing to explore, looking for any survivors, or any sign of what had happened. There were clear and frequent signs of violence, but no bodies. Down in the cellars, she found supplies – bread that was recently stale, and onions that hadn’t yet turned – so whatever had happened, it had been quite recent. The necromancer had probably taken them hostage, or turned them into more undead? It must have taken quite a lot of creatures to so thoroughly overwhelm a town, and to carry everyone away.

She found a storeroom, filled with worn but comfortable clothing, and took a few of the heaviest cloaks, then she returned to the room, now starting to warm from the fire. Someone, probably Sen, had found a pot and was heating some water, and Skotadi had shed a few more layers, looking less misshapen and blobby now. Janaxia had found a comfortable chair and moved it closer to the fire, her own body lost amongst shadows and heavy fabric.

‘No sign of any survivors. And it’s getting dark. We may as well rest here for tonight, then see what happens tomorrow. I found some clothing for you Sen, so you don’t have to bundle so close to Janaxia as well. It’ll be easier to move. It looked like there were some boots there as well – I don’t know where we are, or how long we might be here, but it’s probably better if you don’t get frostbite from walking on cold ground.’

‘My thanks.’ She curtseyed, but still stayed close to the fire. Stathis barricaded the door as best she could, ensuring it couldn’t be opened without making a lot of noise, then found another padded chair and stretched out, trying to get comfortable in her armour, managing to fall into a fitful doze.