The thrown axe spins past Aengellania’s head, bringing with it memories of bleeding in the snow with a long streak of pain in her back. She suppresses those thoughts of trauma and marshals her magic into a small bolt of arcane might. She fires it off at the Marauder that had attacked her, a thin beam of light that punches through her eye and stills her mind in a split-second. As she hits the ground Aengellania’s heart grows heavier, but she doesn’t let her mind linger on the body. There would be time to add her ghost to the host that lingered over Aengellania’s shoulder after the battle.
There isn’t much of a chance of defeat against this small band, just a patrol of Darkoath marauders led by a priest of the dark gods. Between them all the marauders had been decimated and left wavering, only prevented from fleeing by the exhortations of their priest.
Aengellania feels a quickly-crushed burst of alarm when she recognises the priest’s prayers; not just intended to strengthen the resolve of those around him, but to call upon the aid of his masters. And a familiar faint scratching on her skin warns her that something far darker than the mortals they face has noticed…
Keeping her emotional balance in the face of battle, she takes up her bowl of aetherquartz and unseals it. With a thought the amethyst crystals begin to smoulder and burn, and soon smoke joins the screams and blood flying through the air. She directs it towards their enemies, washing it over the marauders and the priest, halting them in their tracks. She shuts off her empathy and mind to their screams, knowing that they will only haunt her conscience later.
Aengellania only realises her mistake when a new wailing descends upon them from above.
Favre falls from the sky, thin fingers reaching out to snatch at the aetherquartz smoke. Aengellania tries to fight down her panic as she manipulates the mist, trying to clear her mind enough to keep it away from the magic-starved Myrmourn Banshee, but she is already too late.
Favre takes great fistfulls of aetherquartz and stuffs it under her veil where a lower jaw should form a gaping maw. Soon her wailing became ear-piercing shrieks of agony, even as she can’t help but keep trying to fill her hunger with more dark magic.
Aengellania lifts a hand to cast a spell, any spell, something that would draw Favre’s attention away from the aetherquartz, when the feedback from the Myrmourn hits the Binding. She feels Karl and Sir Hrantinel fall writhing onto the ground, and her own body weakens against a barrage of terror and anguish. Had Eresh not been here, or Aengellania already incapacitated their enemies, they would have been at their mercy.
Aengellania, with an instinct honed from centuries of being Soulbound, pulls at the soulfire of the others, taking on their pain. Favre might be too lost in the aetherquartz smoke to calm, but if she kept a clear mind she could take on the pains of the others…
Eresh steps into her field of vision, dark energy encasing her hand. When the Soulmason lifts it up towards Favre, Aengellania realises what her intent is. She throws herself forward, bringing a hand to Eresh’s arm to restrain her.
“Eresh, don’t!”
Eresh turns, looking back at Aengellania with surprise; though Aengellania had stopped her from bringing her mortal touch upon Favre, the Myrmourn disappears deeper into the fog, bringing a new wave of agony upon the Binding.
Her mind’s protections already breached from seeing Eresh about to kill Favre, Aengellania falls to the ground as paroxysms of anguish wracked her body. As darkness descends upon her mind, she thinks she hears a familiar and close voice whisper her name…
When she awakes again, Karl is standing above her, barred visor lifted to give her a full view of his skull. The sight of it is reassuring to her.
“Aenge… Has she… Hurt you?”
Aengellania nods her head, accepting Karl’s hand to pull her upright.
“Yes, but Favre… Favre wasn’t in control of herself.”
Karl’s inner fire burns a little brighter, a sign of anger that Aengellania had become familiar with over the weeks, and points down at a fallen Eresh.
“I was referring… To the bone-tyrant.”
Sir Hrantinel holds his bone club over Eresh. His arms shake, not with the effort of keeping his weapon up, but Aengellania knows from the trauma he had just undergone. Eresh stays still, but there is a tension in her body that to Aengellania suggests a preparation of a spell.
Karl makes his cough-spit sound again as his eyeless sockets fall on the Soulmason.
“The… Ossiarch… Was kneeled over… You. We feared she… Was attacking… You.”
“I was protecting her, heretic!” Eresh retorts. “Do you honestly think that I would intentionally worsen the chances of an already perilous mission, given to me by Katakros himself?”
“You were… About to slay… Favre!” Karl accuses. “Only… Aenge… Stopped you from… Killing her!”
“Favre was lost to the aetherquartz and dragging you all down with her. All of you-”
Eresh waves a hand at the Binding as she snarls at them.
“Against just one Myrmourn Banshee is no quick calculation.”
Karl stares balefully down at her, voice lowered to a chill whisper that sends shivers down Aengellania’s spine. It reminds her of Améline, when the Stormcast’s cold fury was upon her.
“First you… Torture her, then… you try to… murder her.”
“Karl-”
Eresh pushes herself up, pointing a finger at Karl as she cuts off Aengellania.
“Idiot! I was saving your lives, you ungratef-!”
Startled by her sudden outburst, Hrantinel leans forwards and clamps his jaws on her arm, teeth biting down on the osseous arm. Eresh grunts and raises her free hand, preparing to cast another spell-
“Stop.”
The single word halts the two of them, paused together in a tableau of contained aggression. The two combatants, along with Karl already lowering his spear-point, all look towards Aengellania.
Aengellania bottles up a weary, despairing sigh before continuing, investing her voice with experienced authority she rarely used if she could help it.
“Sir Hrantinel, let go of Eresh. Karl, put up your spear. Eresh, could you lower your hand?”
They all slowly do as she says, even as she can see each of them preparing for the other to disobey her. She watches them silently as they all back away from each other, only speaking when she’s sure the tension has died down enough.
“I believe her.”
The Soulmason looks surprised at her trust, while Karl grips his spear nervously.
“She shouldn’t have tried to kill Favre, but I do believe that she wasn’t acting from malice, and that she was trying to keep me alive when I had fallen.”
“You… Are willing to… Trust the… Ossiarch?”
Aengellania nods.
“Whatever our differences, Eresh still wants us to succeed at this mission just as much as we do, and her word is still her bond.”
Just as Karl shakes his head in dismay, Aengellania turns to Eresh and continues.
“But, Eresh? You were prepared to tamper with something you didn’t fully understand. You could have brought disaster on us by killing Favre.”
The Soulmason frowns, tapping the edge of her Mortek Throne.
“I had thought that it wouldn’t be too different from removing a fragment of soul from an Ossiarch…”
Aengellania suppresses the unease that rises at hearing someone so casually talk of manipulating a soul in such a manner. That wouldn’t help her here.
“It’s different. Very different. We are whole souls, linked together in sympathy. To harm one is to harm us all. A fragment of a soul doesn’t have that capacity for pain.”
Eresh’s eyes narrow.
“And how would you know the distinction?”
The question sends a spike of worry into Aengellania. Has she given away too much? She shunts away those thoughts and keeps her calm tone.
“You already know that I’ve spent time in Shyish, and I’ve always been willing to learn from others.”
This doesn’t seem to placate Eresh, but to Aengellania’s relief she doesn’t press her further.
“Then I will be more careful in how I intervene in the Binding, in future.”
The Cathallar tries to put the Ossiarch out of her mind as best she can and turns to sir Hrantinel, still crouched on the ground next to Peggy.
“Sir Hrantinel?”
He looks up at her, a haunted look in his eyes.
“Yes, milady?”
“Did you see where Favre went?”
He nods to her.
“Aye, lady Heartmender, and I can take you to her.”
Eresh’s study of Aengellania turns curious as the Cathallar mounts Peggy.
“Favre will return to us in due time. She knows her duty to Nagash.”
Just before Peggy launches up into the air, Aengellania looks down at Eresh.
“But she still needs my help.”
Aengellania and sir Hrantinel ride away from the battlefiel, leaving behind Karl and Eresh to form a camp. Despite just coming to blows, they seem subdued and unwilling to interact with each other. Aengellania trusts them not to try to kill each other in her absence.
As they soar through the air, sir Hrantinel keeps leaning forward to pat Peggy. After a while Aengellania steels herself and brings herself closer to the ghoul, ignoring his grey, filthy skin.
“Sir Hrantinel, is aught amiss?”
“Nay, milady. I am… I am simply recovering from the foul illusions of our enemy.”
The guilt she had suppressed during the battle returns with vengeance, as Hrantinel runs his hand down Peggy’s spine again.
“For a moment, I had thought that Peggy was fleshless.”
Finally they set down in front of a cave burrowed into the side of a small hill. Aengellania gets off Peggy, then turns to look up at Hrantinel.
“Sir, I must ask you to keep vigil over the entrance while I tend to Favre. But whatever you hear, I ask you to keep yourself from entering the cave.”
“My lady, are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. This is something I must do alone.”
Despite his reluctance Hrantinel salutes her, acceding to her wishes, and leaps back up into the air atop Peggy.
Not wanting to waste a moment more, Aengellania turns back to the cave, and enters the shadows.
She walks in complete darkness. She could easily light her way with magic, but she wouldn’t dare if it could aggravate Favre’s condition. Besides, she had already braved the shadows of Ulgu, and made them her own. The dark held no terror for this child of Hysh.
Her pace only quickens when she hears sobbing, echoing up the stoney tunnel.
A dim pale light enters her vision, leading her on. Aengellania rounds a corner, and finally finds Favre.
The Myrmourn Banshee is curled up in a corner, her spectral form tainted with amethyst mist just under her veil and what would be her skin. It would eventually be purged from Favre if given enough time, but while it lingered…
Aengellania slowly approaches Favre, and when she’s close enough raises a hand to her and speaks gently.
“Favre?”
The Banshee starts and looks up at Aengellania. When Favre realises who is speaking to her she cringes away, the human reaction made unusual as her body passes through the stone.
“Aenge…?” She whispers
Aengellania nods, and continues approaching Favre with a hand held outstretched.
“It’s me, Favre.”
Favre shakes her head and retreats further, threatening to disappear into the wall.
“Please…”
Aengellania stops, still holding out her hand.
“What do you need from me?”
Favre doesn’t seem to hear her, and shakes her head again.
“Don’t… Don’t send me back to the Oubliette… I know what I did was wrong…”
Aengellania’s eyes widen in the gloom, and she has to fight to keep her pity from overwhelming her.
Deep within her, where her conscious thoughts dare not tread, something stirs…
“Favre, you did nothing wrong.”
“I put our task at jeopardy, defied Nagash’s will. Couldn’t control my hunger… I know I deserve punishment, but please…”
The Nighthaunt shrinks back further, muttering fervently.
“All are one in Nagash. Nagash… Is one in all.”
Favre keeps repeating the mantra to Aenge, as if trying to stave away the anger she expects.
Chains rattle within Aengellania as they are tested…
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No… All are one in Nagash… Nagash is one in all…”
The sobbing returns as Favre bends in double before Aengellania.
“There is only Nagash, nothing else…”
Boiling up from the depths, a voice begs Aengellania to be freed, to be unleashed…
With a breath Aengellania silences it.
“Favre… I won’t let him hurt you.”
Favre shakes her head, not daring to look up at Aengellania.
“You can’t defy him. Nagash is one in all-”
“Nagash is not here.”
She lowers herself down to one knee, and her outstretched hand begins to glow.
“I am.”
Favre’s attention fastens onto Aengellania’s hand, seeing the magic that emanates from it. She tentatively reaches out a hand to it, then just as quickly withdraws it.
“All are one in-”
“Favre, I’m not asking you to renounce him.”
Aengellania pours in all of her care in her voice, every scrap of sympathy she feels for the tortured soul before her, just as she lets the Soulfire that binds them sing of her intentions.
“All I’m asking is for you to let me help you. Let me fix the mistake that led to me hurting you.”
Favre watches Aengellania, her weeping stilled for the moment. Eventually, she manages a single gasped question.
“Why?”
The question sends a shard of ice into Aengellania’s heart as she recognises it for what it means, but her resolve remains absolute.
“Because I don’t want you to be in pain, Favre.”
With agonising slowness, Favre approaches Aengellania, veiled eyes fixated on her hand. Then she stops, and looks up at Aengellania.
“… Why?”
“Because, Favre…”
Aengellania holds her silence for a second, before a small, pitying smile graces her features.
“Because I care about you, Favre.”
The hollows where Favre’s eyes would be under her veil shift ever so slightly, looking up to Aengellania.
“You… Care?” She asks, as if she doesn’t understand the fundamental meaning of the word.
Aengellania nods.
“Of course I do.”
The banshee only hesitates for a moment longer, then lowers her veil over Aengellania’s hand.
The cold almost makes Aengellania gasp when it hits her hand and shivers up her arm. It bites deeper than even the Everwinter had, going into her very soul, stealing the warmth of life itself. But Aengellania forces herself to keep her nerve, for Favre’s sake.
As Favre feeds from Aengellania’s magic, the Cathallar quietly draws from her the aetherquartz-borne dark emotions that poison Favre. The amethyst clots of magic in Favre are drawn out and placed back into Aengellania. It is her burden to bear by duty, and no one else’s.
Even when she’s finished in her task, Aengellania continues to let Favre sate herself on her magic. After a while, she even conjures up her memories of peace and contentment, and lets a little of the feelings they evoked drift into the Favre…
Favre withdraws her head suddenly, an ethereal gasp breaking the silence. Her form seems brighter to Aengellania, and a renewed energy and focus enters her actions. By counterpoint it’s all Aengellania can do to keep the weakness out of her voice.
“Favre, are you sated?”
The banshee shakes her head.
“No… But the hunger is diminished. I… I can think, I…”
She looks down at the kneeling aelf, clearly seeing what Aengellania had tried to conceal in her voice.
“Aenge…”
Aengellania pushes herself to her feet, waving away Favre.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. All that mattered was healing you.”
“Aenge, are you sure?”
The new strength in Favre’s voice makes Aengellania smile, even as she recognises the concern in it.
“Well, perhaps being helped out to the surface would be appreciated.”
“Help you?”
Favre looks about, becoming distraught.
“Aenge, I don’t know how. I could go through the rock to fetch someone, but…”
“Favre, let me handle it.”
Aengellania closes her eyes, and draws on her magic once more. But this time she ignores the light of Hysh or the shadows of Ulgu, instead beckoning to a third wind.
She lifts up a hand, and touches Favre.
Favre recoils as Aengellania makes contact, more out of surprise than discomfort. Her spectral glow travels up Aengellania’s arm, covering her over entirely, and when Aengellania opens her eyes again she sees the rock of the tunnel through her body.
Favre looks Aengellania up and down, and Aengellania senses that she must already be guessing what magic the Cathallar must be using. Her voice lowers to a warning whisper.
“Aengellania, this magic…”
“I know.”
She smiles at Favre, keeping her tone reassuring.
“It can be our secret.”
Favre hesitates… Then nods. Almost unconsciously, she raises a hand and places it on Aengellania’s.
“Our secret.” She whispers, her voice shivering at this small rebellion.
Aengellania’s heart swells with pride and joy for her.
Favre seems to notice where her hand went and looks down at it.
“This… This is strange…” She speaks softly.
“I can take my hand away if you wish.”
Favre shakes her head. Slowly, she rubs a thumb over Aengellania’s knuckles.
“No, it’s strange in a… Good way. I just wasn’t used to…”
Her voice trails away, but Aengellania can hear the subtext in her voice. She takes Favre’s hand in her own.
“I know. You don’t have to talk about it. But I’m happy to repeat what we did down here again, if you wish.”
Favre looks up at Aengellania, and for a moment Aengellania gets the impression that her veil twitches in a way that almost seems… Like a smile.
“Please.” She whispers.
Aengellania lets her smile broaden, and wraps an arm around Favre’s shoulders, just as the Nighthaunt’s arm threads itself under her arms to support the aelf.
“Now, shall we leave this cave together?”
“Yes… Together.”
Favre floats forward, bearing Aenge on… And they both pass through the stone that surrounds them, onto the surface above.
