“The Gates.” Kat muttered, walking down the sloped hallway and coughing as her lungs filled with dust. There were lanterns along the walls, but they had long since guttered out. Instead, the only source of illumination was the torch that she held in her hand. “Crow-cursed elite soldiers—where the hell are they?” she swore irritatedly as she swept her fingers through the air, tearing apart cobwebs as she went further through the hallway.

They had arrived out of the waygate, but there had unexpectedly been no soldiers to meet them. Instead they had found themselves alone at the top of the Gates, the wild wind chilling their skin. Ossus had them try to search for any soldiers, but it seemed unlikely. “They probably deserted once they caught wind of the King’s death.” she grumbled to herself, the air in the tunnel making her sneeze.

The Gates were not a solid wall, despite their outwardly appearance. They sat in a gulley, in between two sheer rock cliffs hundreds of men tall. Soldiers manned the upper walkways regularly—or rather, were supposed to. There, they could use mounted ballista and hot oil from a position of strength, with the wall far too tall to climb with rope or ladder. The soldiers slept inside the wall as well; the top levels were hollow inside and served as living quarters underneath. It was here that she was investigating, taking one of the many hallways that branched out underneath the upper floor of the Gates.

As she neared the end of the tunnel, sunlight began to shine onto the grime-covered stones. Walking up the steps, sheh found herself on the upper walkway once more, the cold wind blowing her hair wildly. Seeing Norus standing nearby, evidently having finished his run as well, she shook her head. “Nothing.” she had to shout over the wind, which beat against her ears and threatened to swipe the words out of her mouth.

Yet just as she had finished, there was a sudden scream from below. Flashing a look at Norus, she bolted back down into the hallway, her footsteps ringing out against the stone. Norus followed her swiftly, joining her as she ran through the maze of tunnels.

“Help!” came the shriek, off to the right, and she drew her sword as she rounded the corner. She was shocked to see one of the First Swords on the ground, his torch guttered out by his side. He lay on his stomach in a puddle of dark blood, clawing forward desperately. From what she could make out, one of his legs had been torn into a stump, his face trickling blood.

“What happened?” she cried out as she ran forward, but as she approached him he shied away from the light of her torch. Her gaze was drawn to his eyes, and she suddenly backed off as fear shot through her. A hand grabbed her shoulder abruptly, and Norus dragged her back hurriedly.

The First Sword’s eyes were utterly black, his mouth twitching as blood dribbled out of the corner. His throat worked, as if he wanted to scream, but there was no sound. Yet suddenly the air was filled with a wrenching howl. “HELP!” came the piercing noise, so loud that she covered her ears in reflex. But that sound did not come from the First Sword; it seemed to have come from a thousand voices echoing in the air.

As she watched is mingled disbelief and horror, a fine black dust began to pour out of the man’s mouth, spilling out over the stone and scattering.into the air. More and more poured out of him—from his eyes, from his nose—streaming out in the place of blood. As the dust came out, it began to take pieces of him—bits of skin and flesh. His body became desiccated, only bits of shriveled and withered skin underneath that pristine armor. His body no longer twitched, and she realized that he was already dead, that he was merely a bait. Too late, her gaze was drawn to something at the end of the hallway—too late, she realized that they were pieces of armor. And scattered amongst that armor were bones.

That black dust began to whirl, as if stirred by some unfelt wind. It billowed and gathered into a cloud, a pulsing swarm that throbbed in the air. A quiet buzzing filled the hallway, and she realized that it was not dust, but more like insects. They descended upon the remnants of the First Sword hungrily, blotting out his figure and shrouding him from sight. When they finally pulled back, there was nothing left but armor and bones.

She stood there, frozen and watching like some fool. Her legs were bolted to the floor, her eyes unable to tear away from the horrific scene displaying before her. Her breath was held in her chest until her lungs began to burn, her fingers clenched so tightly around the handle of her torch that her knuckles turned white. Fear, she realized helplessly. This sensation was simepl, paralyzing fear. It filled her and stole away her body, froze all thought until she could do nothing but stand there. Until she could do nothing more but watch.

She still did not think as Norus pulled her back, dragging her unmoving feet through the hallway. “Help...me?” came the distorted noise from behind the corner, formed from the voices of a thousand buzzing insects. Too late she understood that it was a trap, that this devouring cloud of shadow and death with a predator.They had killed that man, had killed others as well. Most likely, they had butchered all of the guards here. They had turned the Gates into a gravestone.

A black cloud swarmed around the corner, and she finally had the sense shaken into her to run. Run. She turned and bolted after Norus, running up the steps as fast as she could. That cloud flew after her, lunging at her leg with a voracious hunger. She swung the only thing that she had at it—her torch. Instantly, the cloud dispersed as if struck, individual specks catching fire and burning away into nothing on the ground. “Help…” came the chittering cry as they pulsed in apparent anger.

She swung the torch again, desperately, and the cloud lunged at her arm. Yet she danced back, whirling the flame through the air, and more of the black cloud seemed to burn. “Help...me…” they shrieked in that borrowed voice, slowly retreating as more and more of their number crumbled into ash. She only stood there, waving her torch slowly as they sunk back into cracks in the stone, finally disappearing into the walls of the Gates. It was only after they had all disappeared that she finally fell to her knees, utterly weary and shaken.

“What...what the hell was that?” she managed as she staggered up the steps. She collapsed weakly against the stone, Norus sitting down next to her. Her torch guttered weakly in her hand, the wind on the wall threatening to blow it out, and she hurriedly braced her body around it to protect the flame. The fire, she thought dimly—it was the only reason why she was still alive. It seemed that the black cloud could be harmed by fire, and she remembered how the First Sword’s torch had been blown out on the ground beside him.

“We—we need to warn the others.” she said, turning to face Norus, and he nodded in agreement. Yet as they got up, her gaze was drawn to the now collapsed pile of stones at the waygate. They seemed light, yet when she had tried to move them it had felt like moving a mountain with each stone. Initially, there was supposed to be a channeler at the Gates that could send them back, but how was it to be expected that everyone here was dead?

“We need to find the others.” she decided firmly, turning to face Norus. He looked at her wordlessly for a moment before taking the torch out of her hand. He strode down the steps back below the stones, pausing for a moment to look at her. His head tilted, gesturing for her to follow before he descended further into the darkness.

Go back? Fear welled up in her once more, but she pushed it aside swiftly and followed Norus. She was not certain if he knew where the others were—they were supposed to meet back on the surface by nightfall at the latest. When they reached where the other First Sword had died, Norus handed her the burnt torch on the ground, setting it ablaze with his. She held it carefully, the sensation of warmth bringing much-needed security in these dark depths.

Down the hallways, around the cracked corners where cobwebs and dust billowed in the air, they walked with cautious footsteps. The shadows danced on the walls, thrown by their torches into massive, watching specters. Every noise made her jump, until she began imagining the buzzing all on her own. She had to clap her glove to her forehead, the leather coming away slick with sweat. Focus, she reminded herself. Find the others, and get them to the surface.

She was so lost in thought that she nearly walked into Norus as she turned the corner, stopping abruptly as she saw what appeared to be a larger room. From the meager furnishings, it seemed to be one of the sleeping quarters for the soldiers. Yet that was not what made Norus stop; she noticed it as the light threw away the darkness.

More discarded armor, and more discarded bones were scattered around the room. She saw fingers and toes, ribs and jaws. Skulls rattled in their helmets, some of the finer pieces crumbling to dust as she bent down to pick them up. There were at least five men here, likely holed up and dying together. The armor was not the same quality as that of the soldiers from the Gates—it was unmistakably their fellow troops from Lord Florell’s army.“Found them.” Norus spoke bitterly, and suddenly there was more screaming from nearby.

Hurrying forward, she saw the flickering of light from farther down the hallway, and she ran towards it. With a sudden gasp of astonishment, she realized that it was Ossus who was fleeing for his life, and then she saw the shadowed cloud surrounding him.

It swarmed up his arm, crawling over his torch and suddenly blocking out the fire. Those that touched it instantly crumbled to ash, falling away onto the ground, but there were thousands, hundreds of thousands of them that swallowed the flame. They wrapped around the fire, occasional tongues still slipping out, but gradually the fire died away, and Ossus was surrounded by darkness.

She stopped, once more unable to move as fear sank its venom into her. She only watched as Ossus staggered and fell to the ground, screaming helplessly as the shadows began to tear into him. Suddenly, she was shoved to the side as Norus pushed her away, rushing over to the dying man’s side. She could only watch helplessly as Norus waved his torch at the shadows, but they were already on Ossus’s flesh. He swung the flame again and again, closer each time until inadvertently it clung to Ossus instead.

Greedy flame spread once it got hold of its meal, creeping from his arm all along his side. His screaming reached an even higher pitch as he began to roll helplessly, struggling to put the flame out. Yet that which was killing him was also keeping him alive, for it drove away the cloud of shadows that surrounded him. As the flame continued to grow, the cloud lifted and hovered in uncertainty. “Any...one...please...” they whispered in the wind eerily before Kat let out a scream and lunged.

She swung her torch at the cloud, the flames catching some of the bugs that were too slow to avoid it. Still whispering dying moments, they slowly sank back into the stones. Her attention turned then to Ossus, whose flesh was crackling as it was devoured by flame. Norus was swiping at his skin, trying to put out the flame, but even Ossus was no longer screaming. His eyes were merely wide and unblinking, staring emptily at nothing, his mouth fixed in a silent scream. There was only the crackling of the flame, the popping of his burnt flesh as the smell of burnt hair and skin filled the room.

Finally, Norus stepped back, unable to help as Ossus died. Kat could only watch, conflicted emotions filling her heart. It was not so much that she had been unable to help; it was not so much that she mourned his death. Rather, it was that she felt nothing as she watched him die.

She had hated everything that he had done to her. Yet he did not deserve that death, even still. He had been half-eaten by shadow, half-eaten by flame. And as she had watched, she had felt nothing. The notion frightened her. If those things ate Norus, would she still feel nothing? If they ate Revan, would she still feel nothing?

If they ate her, would she feel anything?