The darkness was still there inside the room, oozing from beneath the door. Stathis knocked, but the telepathic grumbling form Janaxia was probably a sign that there wasn’t an immediate problem. ‘Don’t do anything you shouldn’t!’ There was more grumbling afterwards, but it didn’t sound like anything dodgy was happening. ‘Just keep an eye on her. Is she conscious?’

She awoke briefly, but then relapsed.

‘Well, if she wakes up, let her know that her men are worried about her. And make sure that no-one gets turned to stone.’

I am not a complete incompetent!

‘Sorry, Janaxia! Shout if you need anything, and make sure she doesn’t do anything that might cause problems. Oh, her name is Opalasa or something like that.’

You are almost certainly pronouncing that incorrectly. But I’m sure I will be obtain her actual name, as you seem unable to manage that.

‘Thanks. Do you need anything else?’

If you could arrange for water to be bought? When she fully awakens, she will likely wish to clean herself.

‘Sure. I’ll have some brought over.’

Stathis waited, in case there was anything else, but the only sounds were those of Janaxia slowly pacing about, humming to herself. That she was apparently content in pitch darkness was a little unsettling, although given that she could see perfectly well in it, not that much of an impediment. As long as she didn’t terrify or intimidate the locals, then it would probably be good for her to have some social contact. At least if the medusa wasn’t too terrified herself by waking up in darkness! They couldn’t see in the dark, could they?

She walked away from the room, heading back into the main hall, looking at Hakara’s diagrams again. Although she could read all the individual symbols and words, put together they made no sense to her, and some of the formulae and equations made her head hurt almost as much as the Unreadable Script. Hakara had tried to explain it to her, but without success, far too many theorems and conjectures spliced together, Hakara trying to explain it all from the ground up until Stathis had asked her to stop. Several glowing crystals hovered in front of the diagrams, making slow and lazy orbits – Stathis wasn’t sure if they were just for light, or part of some ongoing experimentation that might do something.

So, the medusa would hopefully recover. And then Janaxia could help calm her down – and that might give Janaxia something to focus on rather than feeling bad. And if the medusa acted up, Janaxia could probably keep her under control, especially in the darkness.

She went outside, hearing the sounds of labour still on-going – the defences were getting better, but would still be easy to overrun if there were any amount of attackers. Even something like that earth elemental would tear straight through, and the locals couldn’t do much about it! Angry shouts sounded out, Stathis looking around to see what was going on, heading towards the noise.

There was the sound of a fleshy impact, a hard strike and a pained “oof”. Stathis moved between some of the buildings, into a small square with a statue of a warrior in the centre.

A group of townsfolk had gathered into a circle, some of the followers of the medusa scattered amongst them, distinguishable by their green-tinged clothing. Everyone was yelling and cheering, motion swirling in the centre. There was a fistfight going on, two of the townsfolk fighting against two of the outsiders. One swung for another, a fist flying through the air and connecting with a jaw, the target staggering backwards. Vrintar was leaning against the wall, tall enough to see over the crowd, Semari perched on the roof above her, both watching the brawl.

‘What’s going on?’

Vrintar nodded at her. ‘Old scores being settled. Seems better this way.’

‘I’ve got ten on the outsiders. They’re tough, all that living in the woods! You want in, Stathis?’

‘Why are they actually fighting?’

‘It seems as though most of them were originally from here, but then left to follow the medusa some years ago, and there’s been a small trickle since. They have their own small village on the other side of the hills.’

‘And they argue about who gets the best sheep-meadows or something?’

‘That seems to be it, yes. And some long-held grudges about previous contests and the like.’

‘That’s refreshingly normal. So, you had the chance to talk to any of them yet? The medusa’s still out, Janaxia’s looking after her.’

‘Hey, reckon this will be, like, the last time Janaxia met an encounter?’ Semari was staring at Stathis, her eyes deliberately guileless, her grin sharp.

Stathis remembered the moans and screams. ‘Hopefully quieter! And it would be nice if Janaxia didn’t end up dazed and woozy from weird poisons or whatever happened before. It would be nice if she were functional! She’s probably going to be better at talking things through with them though. And her followers look like they can fight, which is what we need.’ There was a yell and another punch, a fist slamming into a belly. No-one was giving up though, both sides giving as good as they got. ‘So what are they specifically fighting about?’

‘Kick him inna fork!’ Semari yelled from her perch, before lowering her voice. ‘Well, Davric was engaged to Shannon, but then he left, and so Shannon accused Ophalissia of being a hussy, so Davric, like, went all “for the honour of my lady” and then there was a whole load of other grudges, and it sort of kicked off. They’re all a bit rubbish though. Sweep the leg, you clumsy shit!’

Stathis winced as Semari yelled again, painfully loud. ‘Right. So it’s just normal countryside stuff? Well, as long as they don’t kill each other, it’s probably good to let their tensions out like this.’

‘Be better if they weren’t fucking rubbish! PUT SOME EFFORT INTO IT!’

Vrintar nodded. ‘Yes, I feel as though it is just an awkward reconciliation. If they were seeking blood, then matters would be considerably messier, and they have access to weapons. I imagine it will not be long until they are drinking heavily and remembering past times.’

‘I’ll take that as a win. Better than them all fighting each other – we’ve got enough problems already, without an actual fight going on. If they just batter each other and then hug it out, we’re fine. So which one of them have you bet on, Vrintar?’

She pointed at one of the villagers – a burly man, his shirt tattered and ragged from strikes, blood running down his face. He raised his arms to fend off a punch, before countering with an uneven cross, hitting his attacker in the face.

‘He believes his daughter wronged – I think the strength of his beliefs were carry him to victory.’

All four combatants were tired now, moving without much energy, having to exert themselves to raise their fists for each attack, even as Semari yelled at them to kick. They met in a slow flurry of punches, poorly-aimed strikes hitting into chests and shoulders.

‘What counts as winning?’ Everyone looked like they were mostly supported by the other fighters, shoulders smacking together, fists flailing into ribs and stomachs, eyes swollen and blinded. ‘Looks like it might be a draw?’

‘Oh, come on! Make him taste the curb!’ Semari had jumped onto the roof and cupped her hands over her mouth to shout even louder. ‘He’s got a glass jaw! Swing from the hip!’

The brawlers didn’t seem to hear Semari’s yells, trying to muster up the strength to keep going, Semari still yelling.

‘A draw is probably the best for everyone. Either of you two seen Parth? I want to know what else she found when scouting.’

‘She was in the grave-grove, I think. She seems to find it peaceful there.’

‘Well, it’s all the old trees. Probably some ancient elven ones or something. Thanks – I’ll go talk to her. And Semari, don’t make them keep fighting if they don’t want! They look about done already, if they need to collapse don’t force them to fight.’

‘Feh, fine! Just because they’re not willing to take it all the way.’

The “battle” wasn’t entirely over yet, but there wasn’t much happening, the combat having devolved to the “inept grappling” stage that resembled over-enthusiastic hugs, rather than actual fighting. Stathis turned away and walked towards the raised grove at one end of the town, the unkempt grass dotted with clusters of bright flowers and memorial markers. In the centre was a grove of ancient trees, their branches spread wide to give shade and protection to the gravestones beneath.

The stone pathway had pillars on either side, prayer-strips bound into place, ranging from the fresh and bright to the old and faded. As she walked up, the air went quiet and calm, the atmosphere of the place overpowering and all-pervasive. ‘Parth?’ There was no response, but the foliage was thick enough that Stathis couldn’t see through the woods.

She advanced until she was in the shade of the trees, the branches so thick that they obscured what little light there was utterly, the area as dark as night. ‘Parth? You around?’ Still no answer. She tried to step carefully, not wanting to trip over a stray root, or tread onto a grave-marker, trying to stick to the path. Despite the long twilight, this place still felt calm and peaceful, air heavy with natural scents of leaf-mould and growth, a sense of stoic endurance through whatever trials might occur.

Wood cracked behind her and she spun. There was a figure there, the details hard to make out in the low light, beyond that they were human-sized and shaped, blending into the shadows. Stathis slowly moved her hand towards her side, ready to draw her sword. ‘Can I help you?’

‘You have been inconvenient to find.’ The voice sounded off, the words slightly lisped and wet, the tone cold. ‘You should have been destroyed, your soul harvested! Yet you persist, an aggravation, an annoyance.’ Their voice was changing, the slobbery slurring intensifying, their vague outline rippling, bulking up.

Stathis exhaled, creating a mote of light, illuminating the area around herself. Old oaks were suddenly fully visible, the ground between them covered with long grass. The figure opposite her hissed, covering their eyes with a warped and distended arm, bulging with excessive muscle, the fingernails stretching into savage claws.

She stepped forward, drawing her blade and attacking, slicing upwards. They managed to sway backwards, evading the worst of the strike but putting themselves off-balance. They swayed with eerie agility, their body twisting more than should be possible.

‘Who are you? Who were you?’ Stathis used the length of her sword to try and keep them away, so their claws couldn’t reach her. ‘You’ve been twisted by the Black Triad, haven’t you? Or one of them, at least – the Blade? That would explain the shards.’

They hissed, dropping low, Stathis’ sword slicing just over their head as their healthy flesh faded into a cracked and bloody mess. ‘I was granted power! Power and health!’

Stathis cracked them across the side of the head with the flat of her blade, their skin melting and burning as she let power flow through the sword. ‘By who? Poratia? She’s dead now. Probably. Whatever she planned, if it needed her, it’s not going to happen. And from what I hear, that sphere of darkness she left is going to cause a lot of problems if it’s not fixed somehow. Even if you want to rule the world, then you can’t do that if it’s been sucked into the void!’

They scuttled backwards, flipping backwards in a spine-cracking motion and crawling away before flipping to their feet.

‘Who sent you here? Another of the Uth Tremari’s? Or has someone else taken over?’ Stathis kept her sword raised, the sunlight dappling against the oaks, leaves rustling. ‘Surrender, and we can talk this out. I know you can’t heal the injuries I cause, and you’re not escaping here otherwise.’

They jumped forward, claws extended, a bowstring snapping. Arrows slammed into the chest with enough force to halt their charge, sending them backward and nailing them to a tree. Blood welled out, their body trying to heal their wounds, but unable to do much with arrows embedded into them. That didn’t stop them reaching out and hissing, coughing out bloodstained spit as they tried to claw at Stathis.

‘You could have done that earlier! Or was that prophecy?’

‘Meditating.’ Parth’s voice came from somewhere above her, in the trees.

‘Well, I’m glad you could relax. It would have been nice if you could have talked to me first.’ The creature was still hissing and spitting, hands coming down to grab at the arrows, slowly starting to pull them out from its chest, blood and organs caught on the snapped lengths of wood. Stathis stepped forward with a swift lunge, stabbing them in the throat until she felt the resistance of the tree behind them, flicking the blade to sever their head. She drew the blade black and flicked it clean, watching as their body melted, flesh sloughing away, bones dropping to the floor. The stench was vile, the contents of their bowels flowing downwards, Stathis stepping away. ‘So did you find anything out there?’

‘Darkness.’

‘Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. Unless you mean an actual army of darkness? In which it would be nice to clarify that now?’

‘Enemy forces. And monsters.’

‘Who? How many? And could you come down here so I can see you? It’s easier than talking into the forest.’

Leaves rustled as Parth dropped down from above, amber eyes bright in Stathis’ light. ‘Abominations, that which should be dead but not.’

‘You could just say “undead”, you know. How many?’

‘Many. But no leader. Wild and dangerous.’

‘Good. This place isn’t built to take an attack.’

Parth gave a sharp nod, hair flicking before staring at Stathis. ‘Unwise to stay. More important elsewhere.’

‘I can’t just abandon these people!’

‘How many others to suffer? The light must fight the darkness!’

‘I’ll do what I can, but there’s a limit there. If we help this place protect itself, then we can move on when they’re safe.’

Parth made an irritated sound, before turning away and carefully walking through the pile of blood, bone and melted flesh, then bent over and picked something up. When she turned back around, she held a long, jagged shard of black metal, carefully wrapped in a leaf to prevent it from touching her skin.

‘Shard of darkness. Not alone.’

‘Given that you seem to know more about this, what do you think about giving it to Janaxia? She’s absorbed them before, and hasn’t been too strange recently. Well, other than being upset about Skotadi, but that’s not going evil or anything.’

‘Hmmm. A danger, but perhaps the lesser. But balance with light.’

‘Is that safe? It has odd effects sometime.’

Parth shrugged. ‘What was seems broken. Or confused. Perhaps misread.’

‘Hah! Told you.’

Parth’s look was entirely unamused as she handed the shard over, Stathis carefully taking it with her gauntlet. It felt like normal metal, sharp and scratchy, although she was careful to hold it in her palm, making sure not to drop it.

‘Any opinion on the medusa? Not worried she’s an agent of the darkness?’

‘Serpent-born, driven by desire. A danger, but not malign.’

‘Good. It’ll be nice to have at least one person that’s not trying to kill me. Even if she might be accident if she doesn’t keep her hood up. What did you do to piss them off?’

‘Required supplies.’

‘You stole from them? No wonder! Although I’m surprised they could spot you. Still having problems with your powers and stuff?’

Parth nodded.

‘Well, at least you didn’t get turned to stone. That would have been awkward! Would have been hard to find you. So, you say there’s undead out there? Any large groups?’

‘Cannot judge. Scattered, dark.’

‘Was there anything obviously big there? Skele-dragon, undead giants, anything like that?’

‘Unorganised. Many, nothing special.’

‘Thank the gods for that. If it’s just normal undead, we can destroy what we need to and hope that the rest don’t swarm up. Or that there’s not some bastard necromancer hiding out somewhere that takes command of them. I want you to keep scouting, check there’s nothing like that, and if there else, try and put and arrow through their skull.’

‘Wise.’ Parth turned to walk away, before stopping and turning back. ‘The light should be careful amidst the darkness. But much remains to be done.’

‘There’s always more! But I’d settle for getting rid of this haze and actually seeing the sunlight again.’ Parth gestured at Stathis’ conjured up mote of light. ‘No, the actual sun. And no undead as well.’

‘The sword shall slay.’

‘Thanks, I’ll do my best.’ A horn blasted, the strident bellow of a hunting horn, and Stathis swore. ‘Now what? Let’s go see what the hell that is.’