The whispers grew louder, it was calling out their names. Duri, Hira, Torvu, Anin, Vær, Kar, Kelo. The names he knew already. The rest of the whispers he suspected were from before. It had traveled here. Duri and Hira were taken on the road. The rest since it settled into the city’s slums.

An alley hidden behind decrepit warehouses which littered the outer northern wall led to a tunnel, or it could have been a cellar once, it was hard to tell. With only the glow of his staff to lead him, much remained out of sight. It was the whispers that guided him.

There was a scream ahead. Jelda. He charged forward, chanting a prayer to Widukios; let him not be late. The whispers stopped and Aldinur pulled out a small ball, throwing it to the ground, it cracked and as it bounced up, exploded, spreading little crystals of light throughout the area.

A dark shadow hovered over a girl, tapering down to her stomach, blood pooled beneath. Ash, must, and metal tinged his nose. He yelled out and brought his hands together, some of the crystals in the room shot toward the shadow. It screeched and detached from the girl, swirling around.

Aldinur swung his staff around to a defensive stance and it came at him. He thrust the staff forward, the shadow split around it and covered him. It felt like a mob was on him and he was knocked down, pinned. He channeled the grace to his arms and tried to bring them together, making him scream as his left arm cracked and then the weight of a horse pressed on his stomach.

“Widukios!” He cried out, unable to gather enough strength to move. He yelled out in frustration before chanting. “By the stars of my birth, the Pillar of Fire, rage!”

It screeched as light flashed, getting off of him. He rolled over and got onto his knees, throwing up, ears ringing from the blast. Aldinur was able to focus after a minute. It was quiet and all that remained was the soft glow of his staff and of the henna markings coming through his torn clothes.

He grabbed his staff and shuffled over to Jelda, kneeling next to her body. Taking out a small bottle, he shook oil over her. “Eredaugus, Eredaugus, upon your eternal night, we all do slumber. Eredaugus, guide another with your flame.”

The oil flickered, rushing to a flame. Slouching back, he felt pressure build up behind his eyes and the tears forced themselves out. Through broken breaths he asked out loud, “why did you not help me? Is it because I’ve kept failing all your charges?”

A hand pressed on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I couldn’t hear you.”

Aldinur looked up, wiping his eyes, seeing the familiar face. Kneeling down next to Aldinur, he held the hand of his broken arm in both hands. Aldinur grimaced and leaned on him as the bone set back into place.

“It’s left the city.”

“Which way?”

“East, towards the mountains.”

They stood up together, the other still holding his hand.

“I don’t think you should go, I can bring someone else.”

“Who’s closest?”

He looked up, tilting his head around, the wooden crown threatening to fall off. “Ainlee.”

“She’s at least a month away.” Alidnur shook his head and pulled his arm free. “I’ll catch it this time.”

—

A dark mist danced around him, whispers echoed. He stood on the precipice of a cliff. Laughter behind. Turning to face it, he saw a familiar figure in the shadow. It waved and he waved back.

“I’ll be there for you.”

Something pulled him back and he stumbled off the cliff.

Aldinur’s eyes shot open. Evergreens towered overhead. He sighed, Sanberaht did seem to enjoy making him fall in his sleep. He got up and continued his trek. It had been at least a decade since he’d been along this way, but he was sure a village lay ahead.

By afternoon he was there, some kai saw him coming in and ran to him. They skipped together to their mother who directed him to the elders.

“No, nothing like that has happened here.” The heitesh shook his head. “Poor children.”

“Good.” Aldinur nodded. It had kept moving, he was hoping it would stop somewhere so he could catch up, but still least all the children here were safe. “Is there anything up the mountain?”

“A few pastures and the lumber mill.”

“I’ll check them out as well then.”

“Careful if you’re continuing to go up.”

“Why?”

“The spirit of the mountain is a tricky one, many lose their way. Some are found, most are not.”

“I grew up in the mountains, it should be fine.”

—

The tarwan left the pond, Aldinur watched him go before sinking back into the water. His would be the last place to check that he had been made aware of. He had wondered why the corruption had come this way, away from the cities. It must have been trying to go to Torbonne across the mountains, but the most direct path. Abnormal from other things he had dealt with in the past, occasionally though, they seemed to have a greater sense of awareness and would try to avoid priests or agents of the high tribune.

Torbonne would be too far for him to go, he would have to contact someone there to take over, but he wanted to catch it himself. He couldn’t help but to picture the eight children, five of them little kai. He sighed and laid back on the water, floating atop. He closed his eyes as a cloud passed.

“Widukios?” The figure stood in the distance.

“Be careful,” his voice was further away, hollow.

He looked up to the sky and Aldinur’s eyes followed, a beam shone down and he felt himself burn.

—

The stone stood at least nine feet tall, it was speckled on all sides with lichen, the colour underneath clearly different than the local stones. He placed his hand on it and channeled the grace though. It whispered to him, but it was warm and welcoming, not the mountain spirit that guided travelers astray. He turned and headed straight uphill, wondering how it had gotten there.

A fair sized barn and house lay ahead and Aldinur smiled, he was a little tired of sleeping outside. Dogs barked as he approached, the eldest locked eyes with him. Widukios, grant me the power of another, channel to me the fury of Amevera. It whimpered and retreated behind Jarel.

“They aren’t used to strangers,” he said, coming down the stairs, “welcome to my home, Aldinur.”

“Warm blessings upon your hearth and family,” Alidnur said smiling. “You were right about the slope, I came to the stone you mentioned.”

“It happens, the elders say the spirit of the mountain likes to trick travelers. Many tend to go missing when they come here.”

Aldinur nodded, “I heard similar warnings when I was in the village in the foothills.”

“My wife is almost done cooking,” he motioned for Aldinur to pass, “don’t worry, just what we’d normally eat. The kids are excited, they are kei still, the youngest thinks you are Jensze coming early… sorry if they give you trouble.”

“Don’t worry,” Aldinur laughed, “I’m used to that, thank you again for your hospitality.”

“My pleasure.”

—

He forgot also what a treat it was to have fresh, warm food. He did eat a little more than normal. Jarel’s children were very happy, it changed his mind about Jarel, first having heard him threaten some kai.

”Repeat this after me, and make sure to say it again when you go to bed.” He winked. “I’ll make sure Jenze brings you something special if you do.”

They nodded, smiling, “We will!”

He held their hands, rubbing their palm with his thumb. “Widukios, Widukois, don’t let the Lantern guide us astray, we shall journey and reap, many adventures while we sleep, Widukois, Widukios, stand with us until light breaks day.”

They chanted it with him while they spun in a circle, once the prayer was set, he let go and they all flopped to the ground, giggling.

—

Light danced around the edges of the field, he walked to the middle where the other faced away. He put a hand on his shoulder, one came up to meet it. Freezing hands. He took a step closer, the crown was catching some of the light in the distance. The other took a step away and turned around, his face shadowed by the light behind him.

“You’re about to be late again.”

There were loud barks and bleating. A familiar screeching. Aldinur rolled out of the little cot Jarel made for him, grabbing his staff. His henna markings and the end of his staff lit up the darkness.

The old dog was pouncing at the shadow that was hovering over a sheep. It swirled around, detaching from the sheep and dodging the dog. Aldinur rushed forward to swing, missing the shadow as it dove down at the dog. It clung to her stomach and picked her up in the air.

He jumped up and swiped, catching it with his staff. It screeched as it spat out the dog, she landed on the ground, torn open. A light appeared by the entrance of the barn, the shadow moved towards it.

“Get down!” Aldinur shouted as Jarel stared at his animals.

The shadow ran into him, knocking him out of the barn and it wrapped itself around him. Aldinur ran out and brought his staff down. With another piercing screech, it detached and swirled away into the night.

Animals and then a tarwan that didn’t provoke it. Corruption, whatever shape or form it took always followed a key pattern, usually from what gave rise to it. Was this still the same one he’d been pursuing? Either way, he’d have to deal with it so it wouldn’t come back for the sheppards’ children.

—

Aldinur looked back, regretting letting Jarel come along. He had picked up the pup and was walking slower.

“Shall we rest and eat a bit?”

“That’d be appreciated.”

Jarel pulled some scraps for the pup and then some biscuits for them. Aldinur thanked him and took a bite.

“Priest, may I ask some questions? I’ve heard a great deal of rumour and stories regarding you since I was a boy.”

“About me specifically?”

“No… just about Widukios’s priests. Do you really live forever or are stolen away?”

Aldinur smiled, he always enjoyed the stories he heard people tell about them. “I can only speak on my own circumstance. You saw the henna markings, I was being prepared by my village, high in the mountain like this, to sacrifice to the ancestral spirit.”

Jarel spat, “dark rituals.”

“Yes. Usually an outsider is sacrificed, lured to the village, however, due to an avalanche the pass was blocked. My parents had succumb to disease when I was young and I never received my Mark.”

“You’re Markless?”

“We all are.” Aldinur looked away, a long forgotten memory rose to the surface. “Widukios came then at the end of the ritual and snatched me away, swapping me with a swine.”

Argryn had turned out to be the ‘spirit’ they were offering the sacrifice to. He took it as an insult that a pig was offered and set wolves on the village in the night. The children who had shamed him only the day before suddenly became the first charges he had to take care of.

Aldinur looked back, “let’s carry on.”

—

The light shone down right above, making him hold up his arm over his eyes. His clothes were heavy and his breaths dry, all he wanted was some water.

A figure walked out from the shadow, holding a goblet. He stood just a little taller than Aldinur, his robe prim and pressed, edged with fur and embroidered with intricate patterns. An iron crown upon his head, red and purple gems glimmered as he got closer.

“Here you go,” he said, holding the goblet out to him.

Aldinur took it, drinking it all at once.

“I said I’d be here for you. I can always find you, even surrounded by shadow.”

Aldinur’s body shivered in a wave, he brought his arm down. There was a muffled voice behind him, the other grabbed him when he tried to turn.

“You’re in danger. Use my power and you’ll be able to defeat it. Just call my name.”

Aldinur frowned. “What is your name?”

The other smiled. “You know it, all those who serve my brother know it.”

“Aldinur!” Jarel was shaking him.

“You should have fled.”

“Didn’t tell me to.”

The creature was coughing up more of the slime. Although his staff was shearing off flesh, it didn’t seem effective. They had interrupted its transformation, he imagined it would have shed it on its own as the chitin continued to grow. Like when he fought it last, he couldn’t channel the grace enough to strengthen himself.

Call my name. He closed his eyes and rested a hand on Jarel, whispering, “Akadorcha.”

He heard the familiar cracking of the grace mending bone. Jarel must have taken a blow after he passed out. And when did the pup get in there?

“When it gets close, run to the left.” He held his staff ready, the grace surged through his body, a tremendous power. The creature drew in, “now!”

It was too crazed to focus on either one of them. Aldinur leapt up and brought down the staff on its face, feeling a slight give. As it stumbled back, he let his staff go and jumped to grab the knife. He dug his feet into its hips and pulled the knife down, the grace flowed from his hands to the knife. It shone bright as it cut through the hardened carapace. Aldinur hopped off and sprang back up, swiping under the shoulder of the chitinous arm.

As the creature tumbled backward and fell to the ground, Aldinur felt himself do the same. His muscles were on fire. Jarel came over with the small dog.

“A brave pup.” He said, noticing some of its fur tinged with the slime.

“One of Sen’s,” Jarel said, giving it a pat.

“What’s its name?”

“I haven’t given it one yet,” he looked down to it, panting next to them. “I suppose I ought to. What about Inur?”

A dog’s namesake? He giggled.

“The kids should like it,” he said, smiling.

“They will.”

“What do we do now?”

Aldinur sighed and looked at the creature. “I’ll have to purify it and set it aflame.”

“We could get firewood from my home.”

“No, greenwood would be fine, the ritual will make it burn hotter. I’ll need a few hours to prepare.”

“I’ll gather some.”

Aldinur nodded and stood up. “Let’s get started.”

—

Jarel dropped off the last of the wood and headed back out to the entrance of the cave to make camp. Aldinur sat cross legged on his robe, his staff across his legs. He had soaked his wrappings in the different oils for the ritual and tried them around each of the creature’s limbs. He opened his eyes, ready to start.

“You beat it.”

He turned as someone kneeled down next to him. It was him, the Dark Child, his outfit was different from his dream but the crown was the same.

“Yes, thank you for lending me your power.”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Time to get rid of it is it?”

Aldinur nodded, “of course.”

“Of course.” He looked to the creature. “Do you know what happens when you purify it?”

“Its spirit is set free and goes to Eredaugus.”

“No!” He shook his head. “Its energy goes to Eredaugus, the spirit cannot be recovered after it is transformed.”

“At least it then won’t be a danger to this plane.”

He grunted.

“It could be put to better use.” He looked at Aldinur. “You could take in its energy instead.”

“I couldn’t, it’s someone’s spirit.”

“It’s just the broken remnants of one!” He stood up, “Eredaugus does nothing for this plane anyway, just keeps to his own kingdom.”

Aldinur looked at the creature. He had suspected corruptions were already long broken, but he thought that Eredaugus healed them. It had been getting harder to do what he did, even the little prestidigitations for the children didn’t always work.

“What do I do?”

“Do the ritual as you normally would, once the energy is untackled from the carrion, I can guide you.”

“Aldinur!” He knew this voice, he looked the other way and saw the familiar face. “Don’t do this.”

“Be gone, brother, it’s time.”

“I shouldn’t have let you come.”

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” he put himself between his brother and Aldinur. “Why must we do this every time?”

“I can’t stand to let them go.”

Aldinur stood up and walked past him. He embraced his old friend. Whispering to him, “thank you for all the years you were by my side.”

“Enough!” He shouted and held out his hand towards the creature. The fire swirled up, a black smoke came out of the body with it, mixing together and flying over to cover his hand. He came over and pressed it on his shoulder, pushing Aldinur to his knees.

He barely noticed the burn as an overwhelming sense of grief, shame and fear filled him. The names of all the children ran backwards, before the ones he knew. He saw a man standing over his dead wife, their baby screaming in his hand, then it went silent as he tightened his grip. He felt a knife plunge into his chest and saw the man fall off a cliff.

The hand came off his shoulder and Aldinur was back in the chamber. He circled around him and held out his hand as the brother turned and disappeared into the shadow. “Rise now, aseshand, you serve Akadorcha, the whisperer in men’s ears, the dark fire of the Purge, the freedom from the tyranny of the Tribune!”

Aldinur took his hand and stood. “What would you have me do?”

“Back down the mountain, nothing fun to do up here anymore.”

He looked toward the entrance, “what about the sheppard?”

“Do what you will.” He shrugged. “You’ll be met by one of my best servants.”

He turned away and walked to the shadow, disappearing. Aldinur picked up his robe and threw it over his shoulders. His staff felt lighter in his hands now.

Inur barked as he got to the entrance, Jarel had built a small campfire. He stood up and stared at Aldinur.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he said, approaching the fire, its heat was uncomfortable. “It is done.”

“That’s good.”

He kept staring at Aldinur. “What is it?”

“Sorry, it’s just, your henna markings are gone, you look so different.”

“It was the ritual.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I don’t actually.” He let out an awkward laugh and sat back down. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” Aldinur said, he looked outside. “I must journey tonight.”

“What? It’s not safe in the mountains at night, you saw the spots on the trail here, one wrong step and you could fall and break your leg, or worse.”

“I’ll be fine, I grew up in the mountains.”