Come morning, Argrave had fully repaid the small debt he’d accrued to Erlebnis, enabling his use of the Blessing of Supersession once again. Their route to navigating the obstacles ahead was much clearer after a lengthy discussion. And, lastly, the Brumesingers spent the night gorging, turning their fur from a snow-white to an off-white.

The Brumesingers were magic creatures and had been living here for years, feasting on the high-quality souls of the dead southron elves in this tomb. It would be some time before they’d be able to conjure warriors of mist or traverse through the fog to reach any place imaginable. In time, the five-pound furballs would eventually become true forces of nature, especially if Argrave gave them good souls to eat.

“…so these runes are illusion magic?” Anneliese questioned, sitting cross-legged beside one of the coffins with runes across its lid.

“Yep. Between the sand door outside and the runes throughout this place, it’s clear the southron elves were masters of illusion magic. Southron elf illusions, no matter if you’re E-rank or S-rank, can’t be seen through. But… they’re a lot more limited,” Argrave explained, rubbing his finger across the glowing blue rune.

She nodded, staring. “…you didn’t sleep at all last night,” she said quietly, changing the subject.

“Couple hours, maybe. Not an unusual occurrence,” Argrave dismissed, standing. “What can I do? Cry?”

She also came to her feet. “You can talk about it,” she offered.

“What are you, my therapist?” Argrave shook his head with a grin. “We’ve got stuff to do. Let’s go meet with Yarra, rendezvous with the southron elves.”

“I just worry,” she shook her head. “Your habits were improving after we left the Low Way. Now…” she sighed defeatedly. “Now I question if you sleep worse. If you were sick again, I might heal you. This, though… I can do nothing but talk.”

Argrave bit his lip. He knew she was right, but that was only because he wasn’t blind to his own condition.

He stepped forward. “You know, they say if you improve your physical health, your mental health will improve in turn. All the more reason to hurry towards becoming Black Blooded.”

She smiled bitterly and nodded. “As you say. Let us go.”

#####

“Are you sure that you’re headed the right way?” asked Yarra, some of her confidence in Argrave diminished overnight.

“Yes,” confirmed Argrave brusquely, holding his compass in hand.

“Certain enough to stake your life?” she questioned. “The three of you ran out of food, and there is only wasteland ahead.”

The four ambulatory people in Argrave’s party trod across the dunes of the Burnt Desert. The town of Sethia had long faded behind the hills of distant black sand, and the only landmark still in sight was the tall, tall mountains.

“I’m certain,” Argrave confirmed, coming to a stop and glancing around before turning back to his compass. One of the Brumesingers poked its head out just by his neck, glancing around the vast expanse of black desert excitedly before retreating back into cover.

“How?” she questioned, stopping beside Argrave, her backpack—technically Argrave’s backpack—swaying briefly before settling.

“Eidetic memory,” he said, unfocused.

She shook

matter. Was a joke, anyhow.” Argrave shut the compass. “Should be around… somewhere.” His gaze scanned the distant mountains.

bit of sand. Almost perfect in the center of this flat plane, there was a sword overturned and partially buried. The blade of the sword had curved

walked to the sword, and then picked it up, stabbing it into the ground. On the first try, it fell back into the sand. The second time, Argrave

held his hand out, and then used water magic. A steady pour of water

doing?” Yarra asked at once,

He turned his head to look at her. “Well, us, actually. As

southron elves. They were a nomadic people by this point, though, moving from abandoned settlement to abandoned settlement. Argrave would be sure that,

the water, not meeting his gaze. “Fellhorn permits violence against

as the pool

on His domain,” she

“Are you going to stop me from doing what I need to do to

of Fellhorn before a servant of the Lord of

deep breath. Part of him would be happy to be rid of this woman. They were alone, miles from Sethia, miles from any witnesses… and the woman was far too inhuman to warrant any remorse.

Argrave had to stay close with Brium until the time came to separate cleanly and completely. No nonsensical excuse would repair the

think Brium would do, were he standing

his hand out and resumed his task, growing the

you

don’t w—oh.” Argrave paused.

remainder of the blood inside it. Nothing odd seemed to happen to the

forget, Yarra. Stay here. Out of sight, preferably. We’ll be back… and when we are, the southron elves will fight at our

“We’ll see,” she said.

there was nothing

though she

she been more attentive, Yarra might have noticed a set of golden eyes watching her. A single, off-white Brumesinger crouched low atop a sand dune, watching the Vessel with sublime patience. Its

#####

gloved hand brushed against something hard—a sandy stone, by his estimation. It took him a second to think to conjure a bit of spell light, and at once, the subterranean cave became lit

Argrave, very nearly landing atop him. His quick reflexes spared them both that. The elven vampire growled, “Move,” and Argrave hasted to obey. Soon enough, Anneliese joined them, and Argrave supported her so that she wouldn’t fall as he

gave a thanks, Argrave

is,” she confirmed. “I

keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t try anything.” He turned his head around, examining the cave. Recalling his experience yesterday,

emphasis implying that she was merely ‘whelmed.’ “And

Do you think

the druidic link,” she admitted.

then said, “Gonna grab

along as he walked in the cavern. Fortunately, the place was spacious enough that they did not need to duck

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