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One skill Karniel so rarely got to use was his talent for sketching. After waking mid-morning, he got from the men of the camp a sketch pad and some charcoal to map out the insides of the Basphemen's Tower. He sat by a table in Cathka's tent, tea steaming beside him while he sketched the layout of the tower. The hippogryph sat with Mathus, drinking tea and discussing how they each knew Karniel.

Cathka's tent was one of those spaces converted by magic to be much bigger and more private on the inside than outside. It had a queen-sized bed in it, a dresser, a vanity, and tea table plus various odds and ends for the mage's profession. She seemed totally at ease, wearing another dress like the one from last night. The color of this one was a shade of red a few strokes from Karniel's favorite shade, which, contrary to popular superstitions, was not blood but burgundy.

Mathus said, “You know, I guess I never did ask what Karniel was like back then."

Cathka just described a blood-washed Karniel, dressed in mail armor and with a claymore he wielded one-handed, storming Gavalon Keep by himself, killing dozens of soldiers before making the king submit, then tearing open the old king's throat in front of his subjects.

“Acts of flashy violence were meant to cow the populace. I had an army with me, and we had already won a decisive battle against the king's nephew," Karniel said. “I just needed there to be no question about my victory or who now ruled Gavalon."

“Why did you take Gavalon, anyways?" Cathka asked.

“What? Was a rugged mountain keep by the sea not charming enough to justify my taking it?"

Cathka glanced at Mathus. “Is he always like this?"

“Remarkably so."

“I had enemies moving against me in the Emerald Cities," Karniel answered.

Cathka lifted a brow. “You were running?"

“Not running, my dear. Relocating. The trick to staying alive for two millennia while also having power at your fingertips is to know when you are attracting too much attention and need to move on." Karniel was aware both Mathus and Cathka studied the bat while he finished up his sketches.

Cathka wondered, “What makes Karniel the Great feel threatened?"

“No one, not even the gods and I, are infallible or untouchable," Karniel said. “The difference between said gods and I is they have the luxury of lounging in their own plane while I am stuck here on the material one."

Mathus asked, brows knitted. “Why aren't there more of your kind, Karniel?"

“I never said there weren't. They just aren't interested in the affairs of the surface, and I had little interest in theirs." Karniel cocked his head. “What's with that look, Mathus?"

“I just realize I don't know anything about your childhood."

Karniel shrugged. “Four parents, plenty of siblings, loving household. I did not want for anything."

“Then why—"

“Another time, Mathus," Karniel said. He had not shared those details simply because he rarely thought of them, but he also had no interest sharing them with a stranger at the table. Karniel pushed the sketch pad across the table; he had diagrammed a horizontal layout of the tower, the rooms in it, as well as a sketch of Basphemen's face.

Mathus touched the sketch of the lich's profile. “He's not, like, a skeleton?"

“Why would he be?" Karniel asked.

“I just read that liches had no flesh—"

“And you probably think their bodies are like yours or mine," Karniel said. The bat pointed outside the open tent to the tower looming over the camp. “That is Basphemen's body."

Cathka added, “Becoming a lich gives access to incredible power by fusing your soul to a corporeal object that can act as a conduit."

“Uh, meaning?"

Cathka scowled at Karniel, “He can use magic yet you've taught him nothing of how it works?"

“Well, since you're so inclined to educate," Karniel retorted and gestured to Mathus, “By all means."

Cathka thumbed her necklace and said, “Once your body is attuned to a conduit, you can conduct the energy of souls stored inside them. The energy of a soul can break regular metaphysical laws and extend your will in different ways."

“Through spells?" Mathus tried to add.

“Spells are ritualized extensions, they are paths already walked, and so use less energy to cast because there is nothing that needs shaped beyond the energy to follow along those extensions. Conduits work best when made of metals or crystals. You can use wood or even flesh, but they are not nearly as conductive, so spells take longer to channel."

“For instance, Korlyon's armor," Karniel said, “It could in theory be channeled to cast an actual spell by a mage, but it would take so long it is better just acting as a protective shell."

“Who is Korlyon?" Cathka asked.

“A friend of ours," Karniel said with a dismissive wave, “Regardless, Basphemen does keep a vessel inside his tower so he may speak to visitors and manipulate objects within. It is reminiscent of his original form, if a little more handsome."

Mathus glanced out the tent. “But we will essentially be traveling into his real body?"

“Yes," Karniel said, “It's the only way to get at his phylactery, which binds his soul to the tower. Without it, the energy in the tower is no longer bound and flies back out into the world, releasing the souls it once held while his, with nothing binding it to this plane, is banished to the afterlife of whatever god wishes to claim him for harvest."

Mathus looked at Basphemen's vessel again. The lich had the head of a gazelle with two elegant horns sweeping straight back, each one capped.

Karniel pointed to the layout of the tower and said, “Here is what we can expect when we enter this abomination."

***

Cathka changed out of her dress. She now wore her black riding gear, favoring it for its flexibility, which she might need once in Basphemen's Tower. Much as she liked cutting a splendid figure in a dress, she knew better than to go to war in one.

They approached the edge of the wilting wheat field with ten soldiers handpicked by General Thomsen. Cathka said, “This is about the outer limits of the lich's defensive spells."

“With us in tow he will let you approach," Karniel said and waved his hand. “Come, the longer we delay the more power Basphemen has."

The bat stepped into the field undaunted and Mathus followed. Cathka touched her necklace and muttered a protection spell before following with the soldiers behind her. They were armed to the teeth, but Cathka doubted they would be very useful.

They soon fell into the tower's shadow. And within it, a curtain of dread and cold began to hang across her. Things remained eerily quiet, and the ground they walked upon felt brittle and dead. When they reached the entrance of the tower, it was a smooth wall of bismuth. No entry to indicate a way in. Her dread only gnawed deeper.

Karniel raised a hand in greeting and called to the tower, “Basphemen, do be a dear and let us in. Mathus and I are here, and we wish to take this mage along with us. The ten soldiers behind me should be a sufficient toll."

Mathus wheeled on Karniel, “Toll?"

Behind them the soldiers screamed. Cathka felt scorching heat before she turned and saw all the men had spontaneously combusted. Dark blue flames licked at flesh and fur as they fell on top of each other, flailing, the fire growing higher and siphoning towards the tower as if it was sucking the flames in.

Cathka stared while Mathus snapped, “You didn't say anything about this!"

“What? Basphemen always demands a cost."

“But these soldiers were—"

“Oh I knew you would respond like this, it's the very reason I chose not to tell you in the first place."

“Karniel you can't just lie about—"

“Thank you, Karniel," Cathka interjected to stop the argument, “I know without this I would have never been allowed inside." She faced the two as the fires died down. Mathus had become red-faced and shook with anger.

Along the tower a doorway opened, entirely pitch black. “Enter," boomed a voice across the field.

“Age before beauty," Karniel said to Mathus.

“We are not done talking about this," the human growled while he and Cathka followed Karniel inside.

The door sealed behind them. The air in the tower was damp, and tinged with the metallic taste of blood. Lights came on and Cathka saw they stood in a shaft. Karniel called up the shaft, “Well? Do you expect us to climb?"

Inside, the bismuth walls were stitched in webs of flesh-like veins all in an assortment of colors. Like the circulation of blood vessels, they were the circulation of souls moving through and powering the tower. The feathers at Cathka's nape began to rise a little at the sense they were being watched by something hungry. Then the metallic floor they stood on began to lift into the air.

Karniel muttered, “Honestly, you would think he didn't want us here."

“I'm still mad at you," Mathus grumbled.

Karniel groaned. “Oh I get it, I am in trouble. After we kill Basphemen you can chastise me however you like. Though, I can have quite a masochistic streak, so good luck finding a punishment for me."

“I would have assumed you a sadist," Cathka said.

Karniel flashed her a grin. “Who says I can't be both?"

The hippogryph quirked an eyebrow that quietly asked, “Is that an invitation?"

The bat winked.

“Bold of you to just announce your plan to kill me, Karniel," Basphemen said. In the wall, the shape of an antelope's face had warped together inside it. All those veins now gave this character color and shape. “What's to stop me from smashing you to bits in this shaft?"

Karniel placed a hand on Mathus' shoulder. “You want Mathus, correct?"

Mathus knocked Karniel's hand away. “I'm not your barter."

The antelope smiled with a row of jagged teeth. “Oh? Lover's quarrel, Karniel?"

“What did you do to those soldiers?" Mathus demanded.

Cathka's tail beat against the floor impatiently. Did the human not get it?

“Oh, why, they are dead, dear. Mathus, was it?"

“Yes," the apothecary growled at the projection in the wall.

“Their souls are a part of me, I can show them to you if you like."

Karniel's eyes went wide. “Basphemen don't—"

The face disappeared in favor of silhouettes of mostly rabbit anthros swirling in a vortex. They were being shredded, screaming as they were ripped apart. Karniel stood in front of it and told Mathus, “Ignore him, darling."

“Ah, so protective," Basphemen said. He reappeared on the other side of the shaft. They were still ascending higher into the tower. “Right now I am using their spirits to power the energy that makes your lift ascend."

“This is the cost of magic, Mathus," Karniel said.

“I know, I just… I didn't want to believe they could feel it."

“Freshly harvested souls can," Cathka said. “Those that have been dead for a long time just become imprints of their living selves. Most mages use those spirits, which have long stopped feeling or thinking."

“But how do you know?" Mathus asked.

“Because these things have been researched and known for centuries now," Cathka told him, an impatient edge to her voice.

“Really, Karniel," Basphemen asked, “How could you possibly fall in love with such a simpleton?"

“I fucking get it, okay?"

“Mathus," Karniel grabbed Mathus' wrist this time.

“What?" the apothecary snarled.

“Calm down," the bat urged. “Basphemen is trying to upset you."

“I doubt we are even moving anymore," Cathka said. “Likely this is an illusion."

“Oh, very good, young lady," Basphemen said. The walls fell away, and in the place where Basphemen's face had been stood the lich's vessel: A tall, gazelle looked down at Cathka. He wore a bright, golden tailcoat with flashes of red, orange, and purple accenting it in a gaudy display. The lich's pants were golden as well. He smiled and bowed to Cathka, saying, “Lord Basphemen Rigellius of Sepulcher of Dawn."

Cathka bowed as well. “Lady Cathka Emberplume."

“Emberplume? I believe I know your twin."

Cathka did not react. “I was told you might."

The chamber they stood in was decorated like a greenhouse. A transparent ceiling gave the illusion of daylight and greenery, lush growths of flowers and ferns and small trees dotted the room. At closer examination, Cathka could tell they were illusions. The room still had that metallic smell and Cathka's sharp, bird-of-prey eyes could just see the fine threads of Basphemen's veins working across the plants.

“Ah, then that explains why you have spent the last week trying to enter my tower!" Basphemen clapped his hands together. “Good to have everyone here. Shall we take tea? Quell brews quite the pot."

“You mean that monster you sicced on us?" Mathus said.

Basphemen asked Karniel, “My, he is terribly mortal, isn't he? Doesn't seem capable of letting a simple quarrel go."

“We came here to talk," Karniel said. “We will take tea another time."

“Only to talk? I was expecting a life and death conflict!" Basphemen gestured dramatically at Karniel. “Scourge versus Lich. Titans clashing!"

“We will get to that. You seemed like you would enjoy whatever reveal you had for Mathus and I," Karniel folded his arms over his chest. “So let's hear it."

“Oh very well, come the three of you," Basphemen moved towards a doorway that opened up. Cathka noticed the closer they got to the door the more the room behind them began to rot and decay. The hippogryph had a feeling her hooves were actually moving across flesh.

They entered an arcane lab. In it, glyphs were suspended in the air, magical artifacts hung all along the walls, diagrams of spells written in code were pinned over a work-table, and spell books by the dozens dotted the room in stacks. In the center was a table. Basphemen leapt on top of it, swept his hand up, and across the table projected an illusion of the night sky. He pointed his finger at a star, and, as if winding a clock, the sky spun as he turned his arm till he stopped at a certain point. “The year was 3034 A.C. Karniel the Great, Scourge of the South, had just killed Sanguine Mortel, Defender of the Meek, Knight of the Righteous." The night sky glowed orange then panned down to a temple burning—the silhouette of a bat stumbling out the wreckage.

“Do you plan to recite all my great deeds?" Karniel asked, unimpressed.

Basphemen turned and winked at the bat. “In order to kill Mortel, Karniel had to destroy the god's heart." The projection changed to a blown up picture of a heart. It was clearly made of some transparent material, like an amber or resin. “The heart had become Mortel's conduit, his connection to the afterlife he crafted to harvest the souls that went there. With it lost, souls might continue to flock to this plane of existence, but none could tap the plane for its power." Across the table were projections of that afterlife: lavender fields of bison grass, a placid sea of turquoise, gentle and giant beasts that lived with the spirits. “But you see, Karniel, Mortel was more clever than you think. Though the secret of the heart's creation died with the god, he had made a second one. His intention: to ascend to a godly throne in the plane he had created while leaving his son in charge of mortal affairs here in the material plane."

“I killed Mortel. If his son thinks he has the strength—"

“Patience, Karniel!" the lich urged. He knocked a hoof on the table and the image changed. It showed a silhouette of two figures sneaking into some kind of vault. “You see, young Dialdon never got the chance to attune with his father's creation. In the chaos of Mortel's death, the second heart was stolen."

Karniel went slack. “You're joking."

Cathka got where this was leading as well. But how in the fuck did a lousy human end up with—

Mathus put a hand on his chest. “You're saying it's in me?"

At least the human wasn't stupid.

Basphemen laughed. “Yes! Frankly, how is beyond me; the thieves were never found. Only those who put the heart in you know that story."

“I don't believe you," Karniel said. “You cannot prove it."

“Oh Karniel, but if Mortel's Heart did not beat in Mathus' chest you would still be cursed!"

“How would you know?"

Basphemen swept his arm and a diagram projected over the table. “Because I crafted the curse that bound you."

“You were the fuck that—"

Basphemen cackled. “Yes! Hah! I was so hoping you would come begging to know how to lift it, but alas you are a creature of pride. You're meeting with Mathus must have been fateful considering these binding words."

A section of the glyphs highlighted and read, “Only when violence is done in the name of a love once betrayed may this curse be broken."

“Truly," Basphemen said, his grin all rows of jagged teeth, “I thought it impossible. Even if you found the one who carried the heart, I never thought you would find it in your heart to love again after last time."

“Last time?" Mathus asked.

“Mathus, he is trying to confuse us and make us quarrel, don't listen to him," the bat snapped. He glared at the lich and asked, “Then that is everything? Our business is concluded—"

“Not quite," Basphemen said. He lifted a hand, and across the room a large, multi-colored opal the size of a rat flew through the air. Basphemen caught it deftly. “I have a contract to fulfill."

Cathka recognized that opal and touched her necklace to draw power from it. “Give that to me!" she yelled.

“He's still inside it—or at least I still sense his soul in there," Basphemen said to Cathka.

She began drawing a glyph even as Basphemen incanted a spell and Karniel charged the lich to stop him. In a split-second, Cathka finished her spell and cast it on Karniel. “Stay out of this!" The bat nearly froze, was supposed to freeze, but his enormous strength and force of will allowed him to resist the spell. He moved in slow motion, head turning back, not to Cathka but to Mathus. The hippogryph lunged for Basphemen, already drawing another spell.

But Basphemen finished his first.

A flash of light consumed Karniel and Cathka.

She fell into a patch of wet pine needles. Her eyes watered and were filled with flashes from the blinding light of the lich's spell.

“You bitch!" Karniel grabbed her by the throat and slammed her into a tree. Cathka coughed, felt bones in one of her wings snap. Karniel held her up in a strangling grip. “The only reason I haven't killed you is because I may need a mage to get myself out of this." He dropped her.

The hippogryph fell hard on her knees, gasping with pain. The bat snarled, “Now what the fuck is going on?"

Cathka groaned. Her wing blazed with horrid pain. She was bleeding down her back for certain.

“Talk or I'll break the other wing!" Karniel roared.

Cathka said, “We're in the opal Basphemen held—I stopped you because I, ugh-fuck, need it. My brother is in here and I was worried you'd carelessly break it."

“Then how the fuck do we get out?"

“There is a backdoor, I channel a spell and it opens."

“Lead us there."

“I don't know where it is," Cathka said, bracing herself.

Karniel snarled and struck a nearby pine tree, splitting it like a bolt of lightning. “If something happens to Mathus that will be what I do to you."

“We have time," Cathka said. “This realm is small and time passes faster in it than in the material plane."

“How much faster?"

“An hour in the material plane is a week here."

“Then you have half a day to find the exit."

From behind them, Karniel heard the scampering of feet. A sound like maggots squirming through flesh. Then an ear-splitting shriek—like scraping metal and a banshee's scream.

Cathka asked, “What was that?"

Karniel shuddered. He knew the sound of Kwen. Even he hated fighting those demons. “Seems your brother isn't the only thing left in here."

***

“What did you do with them?" Mathus yelled, but beneath his rage was a terrible fear. His limbs were cold and he could not stop trembling.

Basphemen hefted the opal. “They are in here. A prison Lady Emberplume's brother made for a king. The king tested it on him soon after, and well, because I do so adore magical oddities, Quell stole it for me. I've found it quite useful against troublemakers like Karniel."

They were alive. Mathus took a deep breath. If he could figure out a way to get them out they might still have a chance. Even with the heart of a god, Mathus doubted he could fight the lich on his own. He had no clue how to use this power, and if what he saw in that elevator was true… No, he would not tear apart helpless souls if there was another way. He just needed to get the opal.

“Do you want it?" Basphemen asked. The gazelle strutted across the table, hopped off, and held out his hand.

“You would just give it to me?"

Basphemen shrugged. “I thought you might like to hold onto it. Make you feel more comfortable while we chat."

“Chat?"

“Why of course. I am a lich of manners, believe it or not, and I have collected some truly fantastic wines over the years that I'm sure would stun your palette."

Perhaps if he just smashed the opal it would break whatever spell contained Karniel. Mathus snatched the prison and lifted his arm. A strong, deft hand grabbed his wrist. Basphemen had pushed up against him, the tall, lean gazelle leering down at the weaker human.

“I wouldn't, if I were you."

“Why?"

“If the opal's physical integrity is compromised the pocket dimension Karniel is on will shatter. Even he won't be able to survive such a fate."

Mathus glared at the lich. “I don't believe you. If that were true you would have smashed it to kill him."

“Who says I want to kill him, dear?" With his free hand, Basphemen caressed Mathus' cheek. “Oh you poor, simple human. You think I have some sort of vendetta against your lover? No, my capturing him is just business."

“Business?"

“Why, of course. I never do anything without some kind of price. I thought you knew that by now."

“Who wants Karniel?"

“Why who doesn't want the Scourge?" Basphemen said. “Come, behave and I will let you carry their prison with you."

Mathus finally wrenched his hand away and asked, “Why? Aren't you worried I might free them?"

“Hah! Why, if you had the ability to do that you would have already," Basphemen proclaimed. “No, I just want you to feel soothed. Like giving a babe a pacifier," Basphemen punctuated this by flicking Mathus' lips.

He scowled and slapped the hand away. “I need to know—so I've got this heart… am I human?"

Basphemen cocked his head. “If it looks human, barks like a human, it must be a human, yes? Were you honestly worried you weren't?"

“I just like knowing what I am. I like being mortal."

Basphemen laughed. “Oh you are far from that! So long as the heart in your chest pumps blood, so long as there are spirits dwelling in the afterlife Mortel made for his flock, you will be immortal. Why I could lop your head off right now and another would grow back in a few days!"

Mathus went a little slack. The opal felt very heavy in his hand. “You're kidding."

Mortel considered him with a look that made Mathus very nervous. “Mmm, beheading probably would kill you, actually. But you will find it very hard to die otherwise, though, if I have my way you won't have to worry about any of that."

“What are you planning?"

Basphemen walked out of the room. “Come, let's go to my study, we can dine and talk about what I have in store for you."

***

Karniel and Cathka ran out to the clear face of a mountain. The rocky slope was bare of trees and gave Karniel a view of a valley. It was a bowl shaped landscape filled with verdant pine and spruce forests. Karniel had already tried to go over the mountain to see what was on the other side and had just ended up on the opposite end of the valley, looking down into it from a new direction.

“What is that?" Cathka asked.

Karniel turned around, slithering out from the tree line were a dozen Kwen.

“Persistent hunters," Karniel said. He heard them all throughout the valley. Basphemen had infested this place with them.

Kwen slithered across the ground like eight-legged lizards. Their bodies writhed in maggots the size of a garden snake. Each demon was ten feet in length, with jaws full of a paralyzing toxin. A single one was never a problem, but they hunted in packs, calling their brethren to them with horrific shrieks. Karniel did not fear them, but enough bites would leave even him immobilized and Cathka helpless.

“Demons," Cathka breathed.

“Heal your wing with your magic then get into the air," Karniel said.

“I can't."

“What do you mean you can't?"

Cathka grimaced, pain still radiating from her back. “I mean I don't know a spell that would mend my wing, and if I tried without one I would likely expend too much of my conduit."

“Gods dammit—fine." Karniel took a step towards the pack. “I can handle some maggot-infested lizards."

Minor demons like Kwen, fortunately, were mortal like any other beast, which meant Karniel needed nothing but his fists to dispose of them. He charged. The boldest of demons lunged for the bat. Karniel grabbed the squirming beast by the neck and snapped its spine in his grip. Another attacked and Karniel backhanded it away. But by the time he did, he felt fine teeth sink into his ankle. He snarled. Boiling pain and numbness both fired through his left leg, but the bat still moved. He swung the first Kwen he killed like a club into the body of the next that attacked, before stomping down on the one latched onto his leg.

Kwen were intelligent. Already one of them shrieked to call more hunters. Karniel cursed, but before he could do anything else a wave of fire washed over the rock face. Flames spun harmlessly around him, and the sound of maggots bursting in the blaze followed the stench of burning flesh. Death cries sung out all around Karniel. He looked behind him to see Cathka standing on her feet, holding her necklace.

The flames died down and Karniel snapped, “Save your magic, fool."

“Normally, a thank you—"

“Please," Karniel spat on the lizard he smashed under foot. “I had the situation under control." His ears twitched to the forest. “Scouts are coming."

“Scouts?"

“Kwen make death calls to attract other Kwen—scouts decide whether what killed their kin are worth the rest of their pack to hunt."

Cathka touched her necklace and started signing a glyph.

“What are you doing?"

“Hiding us," Cathka said. She finished the sign and said, “Encircle."

A band of light stretched around the length of the scorched rock in a perfect trace of where their skirmish took place.

“Lest you disturb them, we should pass unnoticed. Kwen are minor demons, yes?"

From the forest, three more of the maggot-infested lizards crawled up the slope. They skittered into the circle, but did not seem to notice anything. They tilted their heads up, scented the air. Heads twisted left to right, then the leader turned to the forest and called back to it.

They scampered off and Karniel released a breath. “Obviously," Karniel answered Cathka. Higher-tiered demons might resist the effects of magic, but minor demons were just as helpless as any mortal.

“Basphemen should have invested in better pets," Cathka said. She signed another glyph, and the circle shrank to just the five paces around Cathka. She said, “I've shrank the illusion so it is less taxing. I won't be able to maintain it forever, but this should buy us time to find a way out of here."

***

Mathus followed the lich out the door they entered the lab through and found himself moving into a stairway that led deeper down the tower. Karniel had warned them the lich could rearrange parts of his body on a whim, so after a brief moment of surprise, the human caught his bearings and followed Basphemen down the stairs. The passageway was lit by those fleshy veins all along the tower's walls.

Mathus studied the smooth opal he still held onto. It was a vortex of swirling colors crystalized in a pattern like a starry night. He needed to make sure to keep it with him. He had to believe that Cathka and Karniel might find a way out or that he might free them somehow. He squeezed the gemstone tight and tried to concentrate on it. He tried to remember what happened the night Quell attacked. His knuckles went pale with how tight he squeezed it, but he was not able to make anything resonate.

When he looked up he saw Basphemen pass into another room. It was a warmly furnished study: thick animal pelts on the ground, a lit fireplace, a shield painted with a colorful coat of arms over the mantle, and rows of bookshelves surrounding the room. On a desk was a projection of a globe that glowed with soft blue light.

“Want to know why I traveled to this backwater kingdom?" Basphemen asked as he turned the globe with a finger.

“I assume Karniel drew you here."

“Yes, I was paid to deliver him to someone."

“Who?"

“His brother." Basphemen said.

“Brother?"

“Yes, nice bat. Goes by Deradah… There we go." The gazelle tapped the globe and that projection suddenly filled the entire room. It had magnified onto the spot Basphemen tapped, which had been near the south-eastern coast of the southern continent. It would have taken months of travel to get there, and it became clear what Basphemen's plans were.

“You're moving the tower."

“Very astute. In order to deliver something you do need to take it from one place to another." Basphemen pointed at an open plain, then flicked his wrist up. The projection moved underground to a vast network of caverns. They were massive, carefully carved out with an idea towards supporting some sort of civilization.

“Pterodea is what the locals call it."

“That's Karniel's home?"

“Yes, aren't you curious why he is the only one of his kind on the surface?"

Mathus asked the lich, “You know?"

The gazelle nodded. “Karniel was banished, the details I do not know. But they wish for him to be returned so they may punish him accordingly."

“What are they going to do?"

Basphemen shrugged. He enlarged a spot in the cavern and began to sign a glyph.

“Tell me!"

“I do not know."

A protective instinct rose up in Mathus. He still wanted to smack Karniel senseless for earlier, but that didn't mean who wanted to lose his beloved to anyone or anything. He felt lighting surge from his chest, blistering energy that wove itself through his throat and expressed itself when he barked, “Stop."

A wave of bright, silvery energy exploded through the room. Everything froze in place: Basphemen mid-sign with his glyph, the fireplace's tongues stuck in position, even the dust motes in the room had stilled. Mathus knew he had done this, but he did not know how. Then he heard an angry, metallic groan in the tower, then some force pushing back at him. It was the tower. Basphemen. The lich trying to force his way back into the room and through whatever field Mathus had cast. The human tried to fight, tried not to cede any ground for this thing he had made. He felt energy surge and burn through his body, but the same, abyssal ocean opened in the back of his mind. And he found his concentration slipping. He kept the spell going long as he could, but, eventually, he was dragged into that abyss.

Mathus blacked out.

***

There was no sun in the pocket dimension, but time still passed as if there was. The sky had begun to dim when Cathka said, “We should look for shelter. I'm not sure how much longer I can maintain this spell."

She had kept it up for six hours. They moved through the woods trying to track down any sign of an exit or Cathka's brother. With no luck. Karniel marked trees as they went, so they never backtracked, but the valley was miles in diameter. Only luck would have them stumbling across the exit. And they had to proceed carefully—there were hundreds of Kwen scattered through the valley.

“We should move back up to the mountains," Karniel said. He offered a hand. “Let me carry you, we can move faster."

“I'm fine," Cathka said.

Karniel scooped her up in his arms. “Nonsense."

“Put me down!" she squawked.

“Stop struggling, I can move much faster carrying you than you could run."

“If you hadn't broken my wing—"

“And if you had told Mathus and I what you sought perhaps we would not be here in the first place," Karniel growled, glaring down at her. “Now stay still."

Tail whipping against the bat in protest, Cathka assented to being carried out the woods. This close to Karniel, she caught whiff of his distinctive scent under the rotting smell of Kwen. She leaned into the bat's chest simply for a reprieve from the awful smell of demons. In a matter of minutes, Karniel jogged, fleet-footed as a prancing mountain goat, along craggy rock faces. The bat had been right to carry her. Even with his speed, daylight had almost faded by the time they found a small ravine cut near the peak of one of the mountains. They climbed down into it. The space barely gave them room to lie down, but it was unlikely any Kwen could stumble onto them inside the ravine.

Once settled, Cathka signed a glyph into the air: an 8 bisected by a line and circumscribed in a circle. From it, a portal of light opened. “Oh good, I'm not cut off."

“Still have access to your purse?"

A mage's purse was a small space where things could be magically stored and retrieved later. It could, in theory, offer limitless storage if a mage spent enough time and energy crafting the space and nothing sapient or magical entered and disrupted it with their energy. Because a bigger purse required more energy to summon something from it, most mages kept theirs relatively small: essentials, personal effects, non-magical valuables.

“Thank the gods I do," Cathka said as she slipped a bottle from the portal before closing it. She used another small spot of magic to uncork the bottle, filling the ravine with its pungent scent.

“Wine?" Karniel asked.

“A Gavalon vintage, bottled twenty years before your invasion. I was going to save this to share with my brother when I freed him, but seeing as I have nothing else in my purse to eat or drink…" She brought the bottle to her beak.

“Hardly a meal."

“Oh, are you going to go out and ask the Kwen if they have any food they could share? A cup of sugar perhaps?"

“It would be the neighborly thing to do, wouldn't it?" Karniel said. She tipped the bottle back again. It was a smooth, warming red wine, nearly black in color. Notes of berry and sourness poured sweet as honey across her tongue and down her throat. The bat added, “Just don't make yourself sick off the stuff."

“Please, I can handle a bottle of wine. You want a drink?"

“I will be fine, best if anything we find here go to you," Karniel said.

“That way I'm nice and fat when you suck my blood?"

“Don't be so gauche," Karniel said. “If we are trapped in this prison so long that I need to feed it likely means you've already starved to death."

The suggestion of being trapped that long laid a grim silence across them both. Cathka took another drink. Her sore left wing remained folded crooked to her back. It would likely not heal up right and would require tending from a mage in the healing arts. She whispered, “Did you mean what you said earlier? About killing me if Mathus came to any harm?"

“Yes."

“Why?"

Karniel stared at her in the dark.

“I get that you love the human, I just still don't understand why. I think of all the histories I've read about you, it seemed the only partners you took were ones that gave you something: mages, demons, royalty, and this man? I mean… did you know he had Mortel's Heart?"

Karniel shook his head. “I told Mathus I loved him before we had any clue he might be anything more than an ordinary human."

“Then why? How?"

Karniel asked, “Why do you want to know?"

“I can't fathom why a being as powerful as you would care about him."

Cathka took another sip of wine. She was beginning to feel flush. She sensed this was perhaps not the best dinner conversation, but it had been bothering her since the moment she met Mathus. Karniel the Great even sparing a peasant a glance changed their life, but what could a peasant possibly offer that would change Karniel?

“Mathus found me a week or two away from death, so obviously starved he had refused to let me leave until I fed on him. And then, he told me he would willingly give me his blood. He had no idea who I was, but nothing about me scared him. Nothing I said could scare him away."

Cathka said, “So his unwavering devotion won you over."

“Not just that—while he is naïve and knows nothing of the world, he is stunningly sharp. Even in that backwater I found him hoarding books in his home, saw from him a hunger for knowledge. Not for power or any sort of personal gain—and I appreciated that scholarly mindset to him. Plus, even if you do not like humans, you must admit he is a good looking one. Then there's—"

“I get it, you do not need to wax on about his positive qualities." Cathka said. She chuckled and added, “I think I am still stunned, but if there is one stranger whose taste I'll trust, it's Karniel's."

“Impeccable judgement on your part, really."

“Is what Mathus said true as well, then?" Cathka asked. “About you being changed. You did not seem to care about those soldiers you sacrificed."

“I admit, I still see most mortals like they see insects, but I knew there was no other way. The alternative would have been you not allowing us to pass lest we got you a way inside, and that conflict could have ended much worse."

“If you called my bluff I would have backed down," Cathka said. “I know when to pick my battles."

“Hah, but would your general?"

Cathka shrugged. “You still have not said whether you've changed."

Karniel leaned back against the wall and rested his hands across his lap. He stared up into what little night sky shone over their heads and said, “I don't know how much I have changed. Like I said, most mortals are insects to me. The only reason I do not just do as I please is because I know Mathus would leave."

“And Mathus is enough for you?"

“Yes, even without Mortel's Heart lodged inside him." The bat sighed. “That little detail I could do without, if I'm honest. I don't like to be reminded of that fox."

“Does Mathus not remind you of him otherwise?"

“Hmm," Karniel considered this for a long time. Outside, they heard the wind rushing against the mountain. Cathka took a final drink of her wine, and eventually Karniel said, “Not quite. Mathus wishes to protect everything because he is Mathus and he puts far too much value in the lives of strangers."

“Wasn't Mortel 'Defender of the Meek?'"

“Mortel would do anything for the things he loved, even if it meant killing and harming countless others. I don't believe Mathus could—he would simply refuse and try to find another way. You are closer to Mortel than Mathus is, given all you've done today in the name of your brother."

“Should I be worried you're going to rip out my heart?"

“Hardly, I don't fall for the same person twice."

Cathka did not know if she should be relieved or insulted. She decided to change the subject, “What things did Mortel love enough to kill for?"

Karniel, still looking at the fake stars of this prison, said quietly, “For a long time, I was what he fought for."

***

Mortel lay on his side, with Karniel hugging the fox close. It was winter, and the bat's palace had that morning cold that just made his beloved irresistibly warm. Karniel pushed a kiss into the fox's ear and whispered, “Sleep well, darling?"

“Mmm, how could I not?" Mortel's rim ached from last night's festivities. The two of them had been at it until the snow outside finally stopped falling.

“Hehe," the bat stroked his hand through Mortel's orange coat. “I love how you smell when we wake up in the mornings."

Mortel snorted. “You just like the smell of your cum on me, you incorrigible slut."

“Bah! What do I have to do to convince you it's your scent I love? Write you poems? Ballads? Perhaps compose an opera exalting it?"

“Gods, please, anything but that." The fox giggled and rolled around in bed. “I can't imagine what more you could give me, Karniel."

The bat flashed a fanged grin. “I'm sure I'll think of something."

“Immortality perhaps?" Mortel half-joked. They had talked about it, though. Mages lived for several centuries, but the only way mages lived indefinitely was as a lich. Mortel had no desire to be one, but the last two decades with Karniel had been perfection. They both wanted eternity together. Mortel knew his beloved feared losing him—even if the bat would never admit it.

Karniel, seeming to read his mind, said, “We will find a way, I am certain of it."

Mathus gasped, thrashing awake. Where was Karniel? The soft bed? His fur? He looked down and saw he was himself, human, sitting in an armchair in Basphemen's study.

“How odd," the lich said. The gazelle sat by the fireplace in another chair, one leg folded over the other and a half-filled wine glass in his hand. “Tell me, Mathus, what did you witness?"

The human was still groggy. He asked, “What happened?"

“You channeled the Heart and stopped time in this room. A very rousing display of magic. Though, he had many other specialties, that was a sort of magic Mortel was particularly famed for."

“Something inside me opened up—a darkness… I remember falling in and…"

“You passed out," Basphemen said.

Mathus touched his shoulder, it was a little sore from where he fell on it. “How long was I out?"

“Oh, perhaps half an hour. I moved the tower while you slept and have been waiting for you to wake since."

Mathus remembered the opal he had been holding when he collapsed. “The pocket dimension—where is it?"

Basphemen nodded to the desk where the chunk of mineral sat. “Intact, don't worry." The lich leaned forward and said, “Now, tell me what you saw."

Mathus hesitated. “How do you know I saw something?"

“Please," the lich scoffed, “I've seen enough Oracles ply their craft to know when someone is receiving a vision from a god."

“That was a vision?"

Basphemen nodded, looking utterly bored. “My, you are dense."

Mathus grit his teeth. He considered not saying anything to spite the bastard, but no—stalling gave Karniel and Cathka more time to escape. He said, “I think it was a memory. I was Mortel, waking in bed with Karniel. Mortel hadn't achieved any sort of immortality, so I don't think he had made the Heart yet, but he wanted it. Wanted to be immortal so he could be with Karniel."

Basphemen laughed. “My! His intentions were more romantic than I thought, shame how things turned out."

Karniel had called Mortel “darling." Mathus wondered just how many people the bat had gifted with that term of endearment.

“Did… did Mortel send me that vision?"

Basphemen nodded. “You have a connection to only one god—though at this point he is little more than just another spirit drifting about in an afterlife he made. I bet he's waited centuries for someone to use the heart and communicate with them."

“But why this vision?"

The lich shrugged. “Who can say? You won't have to worry about it much longer, however."

***

Three days inside the prison. Awfully boring ones for Cathka. She needed to reserve her magic, and it made her helpless against the Kwen. So inside the ravine she stayed while Karniel scouted the forest. It was as they neared their third night, after another day alone, that Cathka heard the sound of stone scuffing as something dragged across it. Cathka and Karniel had a signal: a bird call Karniel proved stunningly good at performing. Not hearing it, Cathka decided to investigate. If Kwen had found their hideout it was best to not fight them trapped inside it.

She started to climb out, limbs shaky from the lack of food. They used her wine bottle and the creeks flowing through the prison to provide enough water to keep her from dying of thirst, but any game in this prison had long been devoured by the Kwen. Foraging had proven, well, fruitless so far.

Cathka reached the lip of the ravine, and after getting her hooves on a secure foothold, she touched her conduit to ready a spell before poking her head out.

She nearly fell at the sight of him. “Karniel!" she yelped and scrambled out to help.

The bat's clothes had been torn and shredded all across his body. Chunks of him were just missing: pieces of flesh up and down his legs, his shoulders, his ears and nose had been bitten off, brow gnawed to the skull. Bone showed in other places: a shoulder, an ankle, the wrist where one of his hands had been torn off.

“I'm… fine…" Karniel breathed.

Cathka knew about the bat's incredible healing powers, but still… no, when she looked closer she saw his flesh slowly growing back. Cathka took his remaining hand and said, “Let's get out of sight then you can tell me what happened."

There was not much blood dripping from his wounds, and he did not smell of gore like she expected. Still, when they reached the ravine, he said, “Too tired to climb… let go my hand…"

Cathka, reluctantly, did.

The bat simply stepped into the ravine.

“Karniel!" He landed hard, but a groan told her he was fine. The bastard. He couldn't have warned her? She climbed down, quick enough she lost her footing and fell the last few feet on top the bat.

“Off," Karniel growled.

Cathka, embarrassed, untangled herself. The bat rolled over and leaned against the rock wall. He said, “Rest. Explain, ugh, later…"

His eyes shut, and Cathka watched his chest rise and fall until the ravine became completely dark with the night. It terrified her to see him like this. He was there only hope. If he died, if she couldn't find her brother because of these beast, she'd burn down the whole fucking valley with the rest of her magic in both men's names. She owed Karniel that much.

Gods what a wretched way for Karniel the Great to die!

She only realized how angry she had gotten now. Over this bat she hardly actually knew… Though, she had admired him all her life. Cowards feared Karniel. A person with spine saw the bat as a role model. She had studied his histories, tried to learn from him, even fancied one day being a court mage for whatever kingdom he ruled. Now she had trapped them both in this hellhole so a bunch of fucking minor demons could consume them both.

Fuck!

Cathka took a deep breath. She was helpless. She hated feeling helpless. But raging in a rocky ravine did no one any good. She sat there, quietly stewing, while she listened to Karniel breathe. She tried to think of what she might contribute. Her blood, perhaps? Tomorrow morning she would offer it. There was no reason Karniel shouldn't keep up his strength.

The bat gasped and coughed. Cathka came to his side, hand on his shoulder and asked, “Karniel, Karniel are you alright?"

“F-fuck, feel like I've been getting devoured by rats," the bat growled.

“What happened?"

“The Kwen nest, I went there today to try and see if there were any signs of your brother."

“Shit…" Cathka did not need to imagine what happened afterwards. On their second day here, Karniel had found the nest but kept a wide berth. A Kwen breeding ground was a place of rot and death, and when threatened Kwen would come from all over to protect it. There were hundreds in the valley, even Karniel had to have been overwhelmed.

“I managed to get up to the mountains before I became completely paralyzed. Still, my pursuers gorged on my body before I finally made it here."

“Gods. Karniel… I'm—I'm so sorry."

“You should be, dammit…" he reached down and touched the stump at the end of his left arm. “Ah, the bone's growing in, should have my hand again by the end of tomorrow night."

“Is there anything I can do? Do you need any blood?"

“No," Karniel shrugged her off. “Save yours. You are already malnourished, the last thing you need is to lose blood. My body will regenerate. Rather than be able to go two years without eating, I can now only go about one. Though, if this happens again we will have to choose between weakening you to the point of helplessness, or me becoming so starved I can barely walk."

“Did you find anything in the nest?"

“Nothing good. Killed almost a hundred of those pests. At this rate another week and they should all be gone."

“Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

“Heh, no shit."

Cathka tried to offer him a smile. “Rather crass way for you to put it."

“Getting eaten alive does that to you."

“I'm just happy you're alright," Cathka said before resting a hand on the bat's thigh. “I didn't want you to be trapped in here. I'm sorry I didn't trust you."

“Hmph, if you're trying to convince me not to kill you when we get out of here, you'll have to try harder than that."

“I mean it," Cathka said. She felt heat rise to her cheeks and her tail swished nervously in the dark. “Once we save my brother, I'll work for you. However long you think I should for what I've done."

In the dark, Cathka could tell Karniel stared at her. “Why?" he asked.

“Because I know who you are, and I know who not to cross," Cathka said. A half lie—she still considered that fantasy as the court mage. Whoever this Karniel was, this changed bat, she knew it would not be a life of pampered luxury, but she also knew he drew power to him. As natural as lights draw moths.

How else could Karniel have possibly stumbled on Mathus?

***

“Darling, is there anything you can't do?" Karniel asked. They stood in Mortel's lab. In front of them was the diagram of the plane Mortel wished to create. He had done it. It came to him while discussing the various funeral services that went on in the Emerald Cities. Certain rites ensured one's spirit passed to the right god or goddess' afterlife. That was how gods maintained their power. If Mortel constructed a similar plane and a conduit to draw on it, he would become a god, too.

“The only problem is creating the afterlife. Making a plane of existence, even a small one, would take a great deal of energy."

Karniel turned and looked at a map pinned to the other wall of Mortel's laboratory. He walked to it and asked, “How much?"

Mortel shrugged, “If I started collecting souls now I might have enough in a few decades. Especially with the wars in the north."

“No need, darling," Karniel said. “How many souls do you think it would take?"

Mortel pursed his lips, studying his diagram. He needed to be cautious not to underestimate this. “At least ten thousand," he said.

“Easy enough. Sepulcher of Midnight only houses fifteen thousand people. And they add little to our economy, we can spare it for something this important."

“Karniel…"

“Yes?" Karniel faced him, brow raised. “What? I won't go in with swords to hack people apart. You know I hate being so barbaric. We'll just dump some plague rats in the city, wall it off to keep the plague from spreading, and then reap the results before we burn the city to the ground."

Mortel stared, stunned. “We'll do in a year what I thought would take a century."

“No reason becoming a god should be hard. Now, according to your diagrams to begin with we will need…"

Mathus snapped awake again. His brow was beaded with sweat. Basphemen had summoned Quell to drag the human back up to the lab, and at the sight of the horrid familiar Mathus drew on the Heart again. He fell into another vision almost immediately. He felt sick. He knew for certain those people died for Mortel's own ends. The mage had been reluctant, but Mathus sensed that the uncertainty was not about taking life but achieving his goals so quickly. He had been worried he wouldn't be ready. He did not care about the lives of those he killed. Mathus reflexively tried to touch his aching chest but found his hands restrained.

He was strapped down on the table Basphemen had stood on only an hour ago. Quell stood in the room, back to the size of when he first attacked them the previous night. His body was full of the writhing parts of rabbit anthros.

He gasped. “What happened to the army outside the tower?"

“Oh, I sent Quell to feed on them before we moved," Basphemen said. “He is quite handy at slaughtering a conventional army. Worthless against a mage with any kind of skill really, but without Lady Emberplume it was all too easy for Quell to slaughter the camp."

“You bastard," Mathus breathed, stunned. He fought in his restraints. He felt that well of power inside him, but he resisted reaching for it. He did not want to see anymore visions, and he was even more helpless passed out than like this. He demanded, “What are you going to do to me? You owe me an explanation, at least."

The gazelle stood at the other end of the room, Mathus had to crane his neck to see him. “Do I?" In one hand he held a spell book and in the other a caged barn owl.

“Don't you want to gloat?"

“I suppose I enjoy it, but I can see you are merely trying to distract me. No matter, I will indulge you while I set up." Basphemen crossed the room and set the birdcage down on the table. The owl stared ahead as if taxidermied. Basphemen opened the spell-book to a bookmarked page and began signing glyphs. As he did, symbols carved themselves in the table around Mathus, and Basphemen said, “I am going to swap our souls."

“What?"

“I have reached the limits of what powers a lich can give me, but with your body I could be an immortal god with the freedom to rule wherever I pleased."

“But, I… is that even possible?" Mathus struggled in his restraints again.

“Oh yes, soul transference was figured out long ago, how do you think liches work? Swapping from one body to another is rarely done however because there is little to gain for a mage. For whatever reason, conduits are attuned to the body, not the soul. The only ones who can use another person's conduit are identical twins, so even if I ripped that heart out of your chest it would be worthless in my hands. Besides, I've come to find this body, this tower, to be a bit of a prison. Being human isn't very ideal, either, but it is a sacrifice I am willing to make."

“Like fuck I'll let you do that."

The gazelle quirked a brow. “And how do you intend to stop me?"

It was there, and it was even easier this time. Mathus felt that well of power inside him, but he needed an object to cast it on. Basphemen? No, the gazelle before him was just a vessel. Quell would likely not do anything, either. Wait—why did Basphemen bring out an owl for the soul transference? Mathus' eyes went wide in recognition. Of course!

Mathus focused his magic on the bird. Basphemen stopped signing a glyph, swaying on his hooves. The owl in the cage began to wither. It's body became shaky and frail and feathers fell off it. Mathus was speeding up time around the bird, unsticking whatever spell kept the bird from aging and accelerating it to its death. “Quell!" Basphemen roared and the familiar threw itself on Mathus, but he stopped the beast mid-air. With his magic, his power. The creature was frozen and when focused on it he could see all the life squirming inside it. The tangle of people, their pasts. Quell killed dozens in the last hour before the Sebodal Camp broke and its soldiers ran. Mathus saw those memories. He couldn't get out of them. The aged owl beside him cried weakly as the spell he cast on it faded. All those horrible moments of death within Quell overwhelmed everything:

—Arct did not wait, soon as he saw the monster he blew his warhorn, the call cut off when something stabbed through his chest and yanked him forward into squirming blackness—

—Emen saw it cut three men in half, he was screaming as he charged—his halberd buried deep into the thing, but then it was around him—teeth gnawing all over like ants—black ichor forced down his mouth so he could not scream—

—Mendat thought of his mother, sisters, someone needed to take care of them, fuck the kingdom, he wouldn't be killed by some monster when so many depended on him—something hard struck the back of his skull as he ran—

—General Thomsen called the retreat before charging the beast on his horse. He lopped off its arm in one sure swing, but that victory turned to dread when the arm came alive and chased down his horse—

Mathus did not even notice he had started wailing on the table, even as Quell moved back to the ground, and the half consumed bodies were pulled out that squirming, ichorous flesh and put back together. Though they did not return to life. They had no soul inside them, just carcasses. It lasted several agonizing minutes before Mathus was finally able to let go of the monster.

And into the embrace of another memory:

“Karniel!" Mortel kicked open the door to the bat's private study. He had a concubine, some reptile on all fours, servicing him while he worked at his desk.

Karniel said, “Sen, be a dear and leave." He did not even bother to pull his trousers up when the door shut behind Mortel. “Well?"

“You killed one of my priests," Mortel snarled.

“Hmm? I don't believe I've killed anyone recently."

“Habin of Sepulcher of Dawn?"

“Oh, yes. He was rabble rousing, my spies told me peasants were near revolt in the city. I had him and a few other leaders of a dissident movement executed, seemed the most expedient way of keeping a riot from happening."

“You should have told me, I could have talked to him."

“Mortel, if a riot did happen hundreds could have died. I have supported your goals every step of the way, but we can't sacrifice our hold on the Emerald Cities for some preacher. We can recruit more."

“Karniel!"

The bat frowned. “Are you actually mad at me?"

“Yes!" Mortel snapped. His tails twitched and one whipped the ground in irritation. “If we are to share power you need to be willing to cede power to me."

“Excuse me?"

“Let the peasants revolt! I can sweep in and bring them to my side. Building my church brings more to my afterlife and brings me more power."

“This brings you power, not us," Karniel stood up, towering over the would-be god. Though, with a half-hard cock hanging out it was a little difficult to take him seriously.

Mortel stood his ground, “Not everything needs to be about you."

“About me?" the bat roared indignantly. “You were nothing more than a fucking apprentice mage when we met. I gave you everything! I'm the only reason you can even play god in the first place!" Karniel took a step forward and added, “Without me, you'd be following the trails of armies like some camp whore trying to collect the souls to build your afterlife."

“I'm not getting on my knees to thank you," Mortel said. “Your reign wouldn't have lasted half as long without me helping you all these years."

“And I want to keep my rule so we can both live in splendor and in pleasure until the material plane itself rots to ash." Karniel took his hand, “I did this so we could spend eternity together. Don't you see that?"

Mortel took a deep breath, did not break the bat's gaze. “I have a higher calling than drinking fine liquors, gorging myself on spiced meats, and fucking slender boys. Look at yourself Karniel, you're pathetic. You care about nothing but your pleasure."

“That's not true…" Karniel breathed. He squeezed the fox's hand, but Mortel tugged it away. “You are what I care most about. Darling, I love you."

Mortel, eyes beading with tears, looked down and said, “And I cannot be with you if I am to grow my flock. I can't defend the meek while standing at your side, Scourge."

“Your flock matters more than me, just like that?"

“They have for some time, you just haven't seen it."

Mortel took advantage of the bat's stunned silence to leave the room, the palace at Sepulcher of Dusk, the city itself. It would be a new life. He no longer needed Karniel.

***

Karniel let himself get backed against a cliff. About two dozen Kwen circled him in an arc. He was drawing them closer and closer, planning to get the group bunched together before he made a running leap over them and into the woods. One of the Kwen shrieked to call for more hunters—they knew how dangerous Karniel was at this point.

Yet when it shrieked, something sounded off. The noise did not bounce off the rock wall behind him like it should. His keen hearing could pick up the difference. And there was a difference. He glanced at the wall behind him, picked up a loose pebble and flung it at the wall. It went inside it—disappeared. A fucking illusion. Karniel had searched every part of this valley nearly twice now. No wonder he only just noticed it.

The Kwen charged, and Karniel, clothes in tatters, ran right through them. He went straight for Cathka. This had to be it—and they were out of time.

An hour later, Karniel set Cathka down next to the illusion. Her conduit sensed it with little effort, but it did not surprise her that Karniel had missed it. The wall was an immaculate piece of work. When she leaned near it she even smelt the stone that was supposedly inches from her beak. Karniel barged right through the wall, and Cathka followed. There was a little resistance. Any good illusory wall held up against a mere touch, but it gave away and felt little more than wading through water.

Inside was a dimly lit cave. Animal pelts, rotting at this point, had been laid out in one corner of the cave. There was a fire pit stained black from use, little else of note except a pile of bones.

“I'm sorry, Cathka," Karniel whispered.

It was clearly a hippogryph: wings, beak, and hooves gave away its species easily. Resting beside the body was a sword, short with a pointed tip meant more for stabbing than slashing. Unlike everything else in the cave, it was in immaculate shape.

She fell to her knees. A week with little to eat had taken its toll on her body—and now this?

Karniel knelt by her, a hand on her shoulder. “I can give you a moment, if you like. We can take his bones with us and perform whatever last rites he would prefer."

“No…" Cathka breathed. “I… I'm not some child. I knew a great deal of time had passed here—I was ready to find him like this." She got to her hooves and crossed the room to her brother. This close, she felt something resonate with her conduit. It came from the sword. She knew it immediately. It was the call of something attuned to her, or rather, her brother. Her brother, Calth, had been her identical twin. They could always use conduits interchangeably, but Calth's had been a silver necklace he wore. She reached out for the sword, and before she even touched it something arced off the pommel and shocked her. And she gasped.

Cathka?

She shook, wide-eyed. Karniel was beside her again, “Are you alright?"

Cathka, I didn't know if you would find me.

“Shut up, of course I'd find you," Cathka said, tears running down her feathery cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?" Karniel asked.

Is that the Scourge of the South with you?

Cathka said aloud for Karniel's benefit, “My brother's soul is in the sword."

“Hmm, so you were talking to him, then. Seems he traded one prison for another."

Calth said to her, It was the only way. I knew I would die in here. They threw me in here with just the clothes on my back and this blade. I survived for a time, but when I realized I would not be getting out I tried to make a new conduit to force my way out. And Cathka saw her brother, an ingenious arcanist, carefully preparing a ritual to attune and infuse the sword with power. Mages never sacrificed their own soul, but it was the only energy that Calth could draw on. The ritual had gone wrong, and all of him had been pulled inside the sword.

“I'm sorry I couldn't be here sooner, Cal." Cathka said.

“I would love to give this touching reunion the moment it deserves, but can Cal tell us how to get out of here?" Karniel asked.

The exit is at the back of the cave. Make the signs—

“I know, I managed to steal back your notes after you disappeared," Cathka said. She looked at Karniel and told him, “I know you've turned me down before, Karniel, but you should really use me to restore some of your strength."

A week of fighting Kwen and searching for this portal had taken its toll on him. He looked nearly as ragged as she did.

“Between the two of us we should be able to—"

“After I get us out my conduit will be pretty much drained," Cathka said.

“What about your brother?"

Karniel was right. Her brother now technically existed as a conduit, but she shook her head. “Out of the question. I didn't go to all this trouble just so I can tear his soul apart."

Cathka if you need to use me—

“No, Cal," Cathka snapped. “Stubborn boys, this isn't up for debate." She slipped her necklace up to her cheek to expose her throat for Karniel, “Take as much as you think you need."

Karniel sighed. “Dammit, I'm not going to take your blood, Cathka. The amount I would need would leave you so weak I'm not sure you would be able to open the portal after."

“Then we're just supposed to—"

Karniel held up his hand. “I wasn't done, if either of you, and I mean you in the sword, too, tell a soul about this you'll wish I hauled you out into the valley and fed you to the Kwen. There is another way for me to feed."

Cathka stared at him. “None of the histories I've read—"

“That's because I didn't start feeding this way until after I was cursed. I used to feed exclusively on blood, but this other method proved more convenient for Mathus and I."

You're kidding.

And what Karniel insinuated became clear to Cathka a second after it did for Cal.

“You mean seed?"

“Menstrual blood also tends to be much more potent than normal blood, I don't suppose you are close to—"

“Karniel, I don't menstruate."

“Oh, I just assumed—"

“Cal and I were identical twins. I just decided I liked being a woman more, changed some parts of my body with magic, and left others intact."

“Well, quite convenient, then," Karniel said.

“So I'm supposed to fuck you?"

“In the state you're in, I would suggest you just lie back and let me take care of everything."

“I can't believe this is happening," Cathka said.

Karniel glowered at her and threatened, “And if you make anyone else believe it I'll open a portal to the elemental plane of fire and toss you both inside it."

Cathka studied the bat.

Cathka? I'm not sure I want to witness my sister bed the Scourge of the South.

She understood and tossed Calth away, severing their connection. Karniel arched a brow.

“He did not want to be privy to what his sister did with you."

Karniel shrugged. “Shame, he will be missing an excellent lesson in lovemaking."

Cathka ignored the comment. Her heart raced wildly. This was some girlish fantasy come true. Even ragged as he was, Karniel was still handsome, lined with muscle and power. She asked, “Are you sure about this? What about Mathus?"

Karniel gave her a now familiar dismissive wave. “Oh he already told me to feed from another if I needed it. And what do you mean sure about this? Would you prefer I take your blood?"

“No no, I want you!" Cathka said before blushing deeply. Did she have to sound so eager? “Um… I just… this happening is harder for me to wrap my mind around than finding my brother stuck in a sword."

Karniel winked. “Stay in my service and it may just happen more than once."

Cathka nearly swooned. Heart beating a lump in her throat, she swallowed and said, “Alright, let's do this, then."

Karniel gestured to the bedding in the back. “It's not a down mattress covered in satin on a seaside balcony, but perhaps the furs would be appropriate?"

She nodded and Karniel helped her over to the bedding. He gently laid her on the furs and asked, “How is that? Your wing alright?"

“It will be fine," Cathka said around the tightness in her chest. It embarrassed her how nervous she had become. She'd had countless lovers over the last century, why should she be timid now? Of course, none of those lovers had been a historical figure Cathka had admired since her days as an apprentice mage…

“You're shaking—"

“It's fine," Cathka said, feeling heat on her cheeks. She looked down and muttered, “Let's just do this so we can get out of here."

“Fair enough." She watched, beak hanging open, as Karniel got up and shucked off his tattered trousers and simply tore his shirt off. His body was immaculate, tall and lean with muscle clearly defined under that soft, fine coat of chocolate fur. He asked, “Do you need help with your clothes?"

She didn't, but her voice had caught in her throat and Karniel moved in anyways. His hands slid under her back and deftly undid the buttons of her jacket, opening the back so it slipped easily off around her wings. Then he was untying her bodice. Each string unlaced undoing the tightness around her chest, her pert breasts relaxing without something pushing them up. He was so close. Cathka took her chance and leaned up against him. She nuzzled her beak into his shoulder and took a deep breath of his scent. Musk and sage, strong and sure. The scent overpowered the smell of rot hanging in this chamber.

“Like my scent, do you?"

“Yes…" Cathka breathed as Karniel finally removed her top. His hands ran through the soft, rich fur that covered her torso. Those bright coral colors washed down her sides while her front was a lighter shade close to white. His touch felt good. He knew just where to place his fingers, slipping against her ribs, kneading her waist, trimmed claws teasing down her spine. Cathka already felt her cock begin to engorge. She gently moaned into his shoulder.

“Mmm, I can tell you've wanted me for some time," Karniel said.

Cathka shuddered, but was not embarrassed to admit it. “Who doesn't want, hah, Karniel the Great?"

“Heh," voice full of sultry smoke, “how long?"

“Since I was a girl."

He tilted her back so they might look at each other, then ran a claw under her beak and said, “I do so love honest devotion. Stay by my side, Lady Emberplume, and I'll see you're rewarded for it time and again." With that he laid her back down, lips burying into the thick fur of her throat. His teeth grazed her neck, and her back arched. She even had fantasies of him draining her blood. She wanted him for so long…

And she knew, knew deep down that Karniel did not feel the same for her, but it did not matter in the moment. It was just the two of them here and she would live in this fantasy for as long as she could.

Karniel kissed down her front, one large hand palming her left breast while he kissed her right. He teased the tender, exposed areola of both breasts. One nipple tweaked between finger and thumb while warm, wet lips wrapped round the other. Karniel suckled gently, tongue flipping across the nub. Cathka moaned, shut her eyes, and let Karniel take the lead. While one hand squeezed the breast he teased with his mouth, the other slipped down to her riding pants. He undid the belt holding them to her waist and slipped his hand inside. Cathka huffed when he cupped her sheath. Fingers gently rubbed across the blunt head of her horse cock. It just took a few tender caresses before her dick dropped. Finger and thumb stroked the growing shaft until her pants became painfully tight.

Karniel grazed her nipple with teeth before releasing her chest. He hooked a finger in her waistband and said, “I believe these need to come off." He pulled off her pants and tossed them with the rest of her clothes. Freed of her pants, her musk hit them both. Karniel's nose twitched as the heady scent hit. Her cock was a mottled pink color with spots of black, and her balls were covered in a fine coat of nearly white fur. Karniel hefted her shaft, testing the weight. She saw a hunger in his eyes she found both endearing and arousing, before he looked up at her.

“How big are you?"

Cathka managed to smirk. “Hung as a horse?"

Karniel rolled her eyes and she giggled. He leaned and kissed her tip. The wide urethra had a bead of pre on it that the bat licked off. However, a problem became clear soon as he kissed it. She was too big. Her cock was too thick to fit between his fangs. It left them with only one real option.

“Think you can take it?"

“Of course I can!" Karniel snapped.

“Take anything this big before?"

Karniel rolled his eyes. “No."

“I hear that a lot," Cathka said.

“Yes, yes, have your little power trip," Karniel said while he idly pumped her shaft. “Do you have a spell or something for lubrication?"

“What if I don't?"

Karniel glared at her.

“Okay, okay, I should have enough energy left for that." Repeated requests for lubrication were so common with her partners she had figured out a spell to resolve the issue. Cathka touched her necklace then signed a glyph before touching the tip of her length. She shivered as a sensation of something cold and viscous poured across her shaft.

Karniel gave her a cock another cursory pump, hand sliding smoothly up and down her shaft. “I love how easy mages make everything."

“Mmm, why don't you have a conduit to do the same?"

Karniel arched a brow. “Is that really something you want to know right now?" He squeezed her fat, flat tip. The plump shaft flexed in response.

Cathka lay back and Karniel straddled her waist. The big bat's half hard member dripped onto her stomach. It must have been equal in size to her shaft, a fact she took a little pride in. He raised himself up and reached back. Her shaft rubbed up and down his finely furred butt a moment before stopping at the bat's entrance. He said as he slowly started to apply pressure, “I'll have you know, this is not an honor I even give Mathus oft—ah—en… hah…" the tip slid in. Karniel's tight ring of muscle clenched across the head of her dick. Cathka huffed, the slick, soft heat of a malleable hole always felt welcome. Karniel took a few deep breaths before he forced himself further down.

Oh it hurt. Perhaps for a normal mortal there might have been a great deal of time given to adjustment, but Karniel's body reacted like any wound: the pain faded quickly. A fullness replaced it. More pressure inside him than he ever felt. Then the equine cock had been pushed to the medial ring, and it twitched inside him. Karniel felt its throbbing length pulse against his walls. Precum spilled inside him and stirred his appetite. A thick, liquid drop. Karniel knew the hippogryph's heavy nuts, large as a stallion's, would have a lot for him. He whined with need. His dick growing, bobbing and leaking with each beat of his heart.

Karniel closed his eyes and slammed down on her length. Cathka moaned with the bat. Their bodies trembled together. Karniel panted already, and when their eyes met she saw a desperate hunger in them. The sort she expected from addicted pleasure slaves of palace harems. It did not seem, in that moment, Karniel wanted sustenance, just pleasure. The maroon tip of his uncut cock leaked heavy dollops of precum into her fur. She rested a palm on the mushroom head and squeezed, holding it down against her soft fur and admiring the clear outline of her shaft running up his abdomen.

“F-fuck…" Karniel breathed, “I hate how good this feels."

Cathka rolled her hips, a smirk growing across her beak.

“Why? Afraid you'll become addicted?"

“Don't get so… ah, full of yourself."

She ran a clawed fingertip down the bulge in his stomach. “Mmm, you're the one that seems full."

Karniel snarled and started moving to shut her up. His walls were exquisite. That soft, malleable heat sucked against the thick veins of her cock when he pushed his body up. When he fell down, he was all trembling breaths and whimpering. He moved, eyes shut, as if he might pretend Cathka not there. The hippogryph actually found it arousing. Drawing out such pleasure, such shame from Karniel the Great. A slut who liked to be fucked. She grabbed his hips and started humping into his ass as he tried to milk her. She would be certain this was not the last time they did this.

Heat and pleasure churned in equal measure through Karniel's body. A tension strung from his balls to his abdomen kept him on edge. Cathka's endowment kept a constant pressure on his prostate that he rubbed and stroked. Her cock this pillar inside him. It twitched and leaked and left Karniel speechless. But it felt so good. Soon enough, they worked into a quick, regular rhythm. The bat bounced on her hips, careful not to hurt her with his larger size. Still, his cock bobbed up in down in her vibrant fur, while she shut her eyes and concentrated on fucking him. She knew just how to angle her thrusts to hit deeper, push harder along his prostate. His asshole gaped and burned with pleasure as meat worked in and out of him, his body taking more of her precum and telling the bat he needed her. A life or death need. His balls began to clench up.

They had not been at it long, but Cathka already felt her orgasm coming. She had not fucked anyone in about three weeks, counting their time in this hellhole. And she had certainly had the propriety to not masturbate in the ravine they had stayed in together. She was pent up. And the way those walls flexed and clenched on her shaft was just so delicious.

Soon the fat head of the equine dick began to swell. Her flare ballooned out in a matter of strokes. Karniel moaned loudly in the cave, not caring if he sounded like a rakish slut any more. Her flare ground against his sensitive insides even more, and it soon became too much for both partners. Karniel dropped hard on Cathka's waist as she came.

The pressure of seed shooting up that shaft made Karniel cum before even the first heavy flood of cum spilled inside him. He saw stars. Deep, buzzing pleasure made his balls ache and start dumping his load across Cathka's front. Hot ropes of spunk landed across her stomach and breasts. She took his shaft in both hands and started jerking it, heightening Karniel's pleasure while her shaft continued to fill him. Some of his lost strength started to return immediately. Karniel's body tingled, numb and clenching. He could not feel his legs as he collapsed beside Cathka. Her dick slipped from his insides in the process, and he tried, weakly, to close his gaping asshole as seed spilled down and stained his dark fur.

Beside him, Cathka lay panting, her dick bobbing hard still. The flare had gone down, but she wasn't satisfied yet. She needed more.

She got up and rolled Karniel onto his front before mounting him.

“Cathka… wait…" Karniel tried to protest as she lined her dick up with his messy entrance.

“Try and stop me, slut," Cathka said, edging on a dare. She wanted to take it farther. There was something so intoxicating in doing this to someone like Karniel.

She ploughed back inside him. Karniel whimpered and did not try to stop her. The hippogryph's hips shoved flush to Karniel's ass. He was still tight and wet. He lay there limp, and Cathka, still weak herself, opted to just lay across his back. She pumped her hips in shallow, little thrusts. The bat became a drooling mess beneath her as she rested her cheek between his shoulder blades, and, panting, continued to gyrate her hips. He was so cloyingly malleable and soft. Practically made to milk her balls dry.

The pair became hopelessly lost in their shared pleasure. Dick churned and stoked the heat and need inside Karniel. He did not want her to stop. It felt lazy and lewd in a way he secretly loved. They used each other for their own ends, and Karniel loved being used. He never considered it before—something so shameful for a creature such as himself. But that shame boiled over to need and desire. The wet, sucking of his hole to her shaft something to become lost in. Cum pushed out of his asshole had become smeared on Cathka's sheath. Karniel felt it rub into his toned butt.

Eventually, Cathka gathered her wits to do more than hump like a feral animal. She pushed herself up on her elbows and started working her hips faster. Karniel moaned in response. Her balls smacked against the bat while he trembled beneath her. Cathka's flare began to expand again. When she pulled out to the tip, it tugged against Karniel's rim before she shoved her way back inside. Karniel began to beg all manner of things.

“Gods… so good… hah… Cathka—fuck-fuck-fuck—" he whined as she laughed. She pushed herself up and planted a hand on the back of his neck as if she pinned him down.

“Imagine, heh, if the world saw you like this," she growled. “From Scourge to slut."

“Mmmph!" he clenched down hard. His body rocked with each long thrust in and out, “Please, just cum—please—"

“You want it bad," Cathka observed, her balls growing tense. That slutty hole was just too good. Still, she wanted to make the most of this moment: “You love being bred, don't you?"

“Yes…" Karniel whimpered, “Yes please give me your seed…"

“Mmm, I will, but we'll be doing this a lot more, huh?"

“Yes—gods, whatever you want," Karniel babbled. The tight knot in his belly told him to say anything to get her to finish. His dick drooling cum into the furs, it never really came down from the plateau of that first orgasm. He needed her to finish, for this to end before he went crazy. Not that being left broken sounded so bad at the moment.

“You're my slut now, Karniel," the hippogryph said, beak clenching.

“I'm your slut!" Karniel moaned, pleading.

And she came at the sound of his voice. She hilted hard, that firm ass flexing against her hips as he clenched and whined, which turned into another long moan when her balls jumped. They twitched with her shaft as more hot cum was dumped inside the bat. This load was nearly as great as the previous one. He felt each hot rope of cum spill from that fat urethra. That flared cock's eruption practically fried Karniel's brain. His body shook in spasm. While Cathka continued to hump and grind into him, Karniel came again across the furs and his stomach. Cathka spilled so much in such a short amount of time that the bat felt full. His belly a little swollen from the meal she had given him. They both panted, Cathka fallen along his back again. Her dick occasionally leaked and twitched some more.

Karniel had no idea how much time had passed. But when he came to, he tensed up in alarm. Cathka had softened a little inside him and gasped at the flex.

“You want to go again?" she asked.

“No!" Karniel snapped, rolling them both over and sitting up. Her shaft pulled free and that emptiness did leave him a little wanting, but he said, “We need to leave, Cathka."

“Err, right, just a minute," she sat up and touched her necklace before signing a curt glyph. At a snap of her fingers they were both clean. They still reeked of sex, but at least neither of them would enter battle soiled.

As they got dressed, Cathka said, “About what I made you say while we were…"

“No one should take what's said in a moment of passion seriously," Karniel said as he got his trousers back on.

Cathka arched a brow, “So I won't be able to call on you later?"

Karniel fixed her with a hard look, and for a moment Cathka did not know if she had crossed a line. Then he said, “In private quarters, when no one else is around, we can talk about how we are best compatible as partners."

Cathka both held back giddy laughter and surprise. She knew what he meant, and looked forward to mounting him again.

“Let me help you," Karniel said when she slipped on her bodice. As he began tying it for her, she said, “I can just use a spell—"

“You've used enough energy already," Karniel said, brushing her off. Cathka let his fingers work, feeling a bit bashful as he did.

She whispered, “I hope Mathus is alright." Truly, she did not care for the human, but his wellbeing was intimately tied to hers—and her chance to be beside Karniel.

“As do I," Karniel said.

“You're nothing like I expected, you know," Cathka said as she felt the bodice begin to cinch tight around her chest.

“What did you expect?"

“I did not expect you to care so much about me," Cathka said.

“What is that supposed to mean? I am not a monster."

“Yes but…" Cathka stopped herself, thinking how she wanted to phrase it. Eventually she said, “There is a gentleness, a compassion in you. You've not just taken care of me just for the sake of getting out of here, I can see that," Cathka said.

Karniel finished with her bodice and slipped her jacket on for her. He grunted and said, “The histories have rarely been fair to me."

“I can see that," she said as he buttoned up the back of her jacket. She turned to him and said, “I hope that we're able to get through this, and that I get to see more of the real Karniel."

The bat offered her a smile before he said, “I am touched, but you're not getting out of my promise if Mathus is dead when we get back."

She grimaced. “Right, let's get this portal open." She collected the sword and another jolt passed from it to her.

Cathka what's wrong? Calth asked. Whatever new bond she shared with her brother, it proved more invasive than expected.

“Later," she muttered while going to the back of the cave. Her jealousy mattered little in the moment.

She felt it, the shape of a door that just needed to be brought forward. She touched her necklace and took a deep breath before signing a series of glyphs. When she finished, she reached out and touched where she knew the door to be. It flashed into existence. A solid mahogany door swung open on invisible hinges.

On the other side they heard screaming.

“Mathus!" Karniel shoved Cathka aside and leapt through the portal. He tumbled into Basphemen's study, running hard into a bookshelf. Cathka came through in time to see Karniel running up a staircase, and followed fast as she could.

In the lab, Mathus lay on a table with several glyphs carved onto it, glowing with crackling bolts of magic coursing between Mathus and a nearby birdcage. The human thrashed in restraints while Basphemen stood beside him, chanting a spell from a spellbook and Quell—the beast came surging for Karniel. It swung its arm in the shape of a blade, meant to cleave Karniel's head off. The bat rolled away and charged Basphemen before Quell could press the attack. The gazelle looked up in time to see a large fist come swinging into his face. It struck like a morning star, bowling the gazelle over and shattering his skull.

A metallic roar echoed through the tower. Cathka came up the stairs with Quell's back to her. She touched her necklace and signed a glyph with the sword. Then she slammed Calth into the beast's hide. Fire poured from the embedded tip into the familiar, immolating it from the inside out. It howled in a cacophony of voices. Cathka ripped Calth free of Quell's slithering mass and backed up before the flames totally consumed the beast. The intense heat melted the bismuth all around Quell, the mass of metallic, rainbow colored liquid mixing with burning flesh. Smoke began to fill the room, obscuring Cathka's vision.

Cathka hoped Karniel could handle the lich—she had used up the last of her conduit taking care of the familiar.

A beam of radiant light blasted through the room and slammed into Karniel. His fur caught fire a moment from the intense heat and the force threw him away from the table. He rolled across the floor, and when he looked up, a bismuth golem in the shape of a gazelle stood over him. It had climbed out of a wall, and now signed a glyph. Karniel grabbed the wrist of the golem and crushed the limb in his grip. He heard the sizzle of the wall behind him heating up and twisted around to yank the golem in front of him. Another ray fired, but the golem caught the blast this time, the front half melting. A bolt, like from a ballista, launched from another wall. Karniel heard it sling through the air. He ducked and the bolt shattered against the wall. Several more attacks launched from the ceiling, walls and floor at once. Karniel's incredible speed and keen hearing kept him from getting more than grazed, but he could not retaliate either.

Cathka's fire had filled the room with acrid smoke. Karniel could not see, but he heard a new golem forming out the wall and lunged for it to keep Basphemen from casting another spell. He barely moved a step.

Suddenly the whole room froze. Karniel's muscles were locked in place. Even his heart did not beat for a moment—his ears heard nothing. But his body had always resisted magic, its push and its pull. It was why he could not be a mage, and why mages feared him He began to find his strength a second later, mobility returned and he heard someone breathing. Ragged and hard. Mathus.

The smoke in the room began to draw back to its source. As some vacuum pulled it back across the room, Karniel saw Mathus on the table freed of his restraints. He held himself up with one wobbling arm, other hand raised with a recently signed glyph glowing in front of his palm. He had a silver aura that Karniel immediately recognized as the same one as Mortel's. Everything else in the room remained frozen: Cathka slumped against a corner, the room a mess of debris and projectiles, Quell sludge, and Basphemen still in the midst of signing a glyph.

And Mathus spoke, “It is the owl you want to kill."

It was Mortel's voice coming from the human's mouth, a silver light glowing from it as he spoke.

“What are you doing—release him!" Karniel snapped.

“I will in time. He will not let me hold onto him."

Karniel clenched a fist and demanded, “Why are you helping us?"

“I need this vessel to survive—I have plans for him."

“Can't you just stay dead?" Karniel snarled. “Do you think I will just let you take Mathus' body from me? Think I will stand to let you walk this world again?"

“He will let me, eventually. Once he sees my vision," Mortel said.

“Mathus is nothing like you. And he won't hand himself over to you once I tell him what you really are. He'll trust me more than some bitter, would-be god."

“Will he?" Mortel asked, and for a moment Karniel felt his gut stabbed by doubt. The possessed human gestured to the caged owl beside him. “Come, destroy the lich's phylactery before I lose control of this body."

Karniel crossed the room, saying as he did, “I'll find a way to destroy that entire afterlife you made, just to fucking end you for good."

“Don't you want your lover to be immortal?"

“Not like this," Karniel said. He reached the bird. It was simple as waving goodbye: he placed his hand on top of the cage then crushed it down against the table.

And Mathus went limp, the room came back into time, but now the tower rattled and shrieked a death cry. And Mathus, too, began to seize on the table.

***

Karniel stood before him, pinning Mortel to the wall by the throat. The left side of the bat's face had been burned down to the skull in their fight, while on his right side tears poured down his cheek. Tears of rage and grief. The bat's other hand had just dug into Mortel's flesh, right below the sternum. The burning pain made the god choke and gasp. He had just cast a spell on the bat meant to stop time, but Karniel resisted it, not completely, but enough to still move.

And so, at an agonizing pace, Karniel's hand dug up under Mortel's heaving rib cage. The pain was so great he squirmed and flailed in the weeping Scourge's grip. He felt those fingers wrap around his heart. Their grip tightened, slowly, while Mortel screamed, silently. The Heart began to crumple in the vice of Karniel's fist, its integrity failing and the power it currently channeled shorting out. It backfired, and a beam of light exploded from Mortel's chest into the night sky, melting both Karniel's hands to the bone.

Of Mortel, there was nothing left in the material plane.

Mathus screamed awake, entire ribcage in scorching, searing pain.

Karniel stood over him, holding his shoulders. “Mathus!" He exclaimed and hugged his beloved tight.

And, reflexively, Mathus flinched away. A voice, distant but now recognizable to Mathus, whispered, “He will do the same to you."

As Karniel held the human against him; he heard his darling's heart beat thunderous and hard in his chest. The sound that of a panicked animal.

Though Karniel could not fathom that fear being directed at him.