The journal of one Calio Caecos

We fought our way through giants, golems, and the few loyal winter witches that remained. Towards the back of this welcoming party was an unspeakably large humanoid creature, a Humbaba. In the water around us sea serpents, krakens, and submarines lurked just below the surface. Those four mythic warriors, who had been shadowing our progress in the last few days, fought back what flanked us in the water. They left us free to focus on fighting our way across the crumbling bridge, and into the castle.

Inside, queenie started taunting us. She shifted the snow and ice of the palace, creating a moving maze. I had distant flashes of the memories lost to me, of my time walking the hall of this same castle. I helped to guide us in the right direction, even as Elvanna tried to confuse us, opening false passageways to lure us away from her throne room.

Finally, we arrived.

Elvanna stood before her throne, and formed an impenetrable globe around herself. Beside her was her daughter, Princess Cassisoche. Elvanna taunted us, about how we were throwing our lives away. She still seemed completely disconnected and disinterested. We didn’t take the bait.

Elvanna called the last of her forces. Two enormous draconic creatures burst in, standing between us and their master. What we had once thought were a pair of white dragons when we witnessed them tearing apart a prisoner months ago, we now recognized as twin Linnorms.

From the walls around us, Winter Wights stepped out, surrounding us. Around the walls, her last handful of human guards took up arms.

Elvanna began the battle. As we took up arms, two frozen fireballs exploded in a bitter cold. Roscoe was frozen in a pillar of ice, and I felt my hold on the undead gunslinger go taught and snap, as the undeath was choaked out of him. Elvanna taunted me over losing another pet, saying Rasputin had the same problem with his undead. I think I shot back a retort, but everything was such a blur in that moment I hardly recall. What I do know is that I decided that if she was going to take one of my pets, I was going to take one of hers. I enforced my will onto one of the Winter Wights, bending the spirit of Irrisen’s icy cold to my command. I sent it after the nearest Linnorm, hoping to drain it with the cold lifedraining fire these wights wielded. It took—but before the Linnorm’s lifeforce could burn away, Talsune stepped in and cut it down. He shook off its death curse—Talsune is accustomed to the sunless cold of Triaxus, he was hardly going to fall to this Linnorm’s cold.

Aenland peppered the other Linnorm with arrows, and also appeared to shake off its curse as it crumpled to the ground.

Edeya drew on the power of the Black Rider, and used the magic of a resurrection to turn one of the Wights to dust. I told Edeya I was once again very happy we were on the same side, to which she responded with a comment about how she could easily kill me with that if we weren’t friends. My dear friend Edeya is perhaps the most terrifying ‘pacifist’ in the world.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Edeya also forced her will upon one of Elvanna’s guards, turning him against his allies.

With her forces dwindling, and two now under our control, Elvanna yelled to the sky about how she had a deal with some force, that it could use one of her Linnorms if she could use some of its ‘Evaluators’. A emotionless voice from the sky agreed to this deal, and a number of angel-esc constructs appeared. Along with them were two unusual outsiders, a type of Div. The constructs tried in vain to attack us, but proved ineffective. We easily dodged or blocked the majority of the metal angels’ attacks, and gave back twice as much hurt in return.

As the Divs and the false angels fell, Aenland rushed the queen and her daughter, and knocked the now panicking princess unconscious.

I followed suit, flying with a now-enlarged Talsune, getting right in her face so the moment her protective bubble popped we’d be there to interrupt any casting attempts.

And the bubble did pop. Anastasia, who had joined us for this final encounter, took aim with her rifle. Then a ghostly image of Baba Yaga appeared behind her, guiding her hand.

This is what finally broke Elvanna’s haughty above-it-all act. She began raging against Baba Yaga, asking why her mother would help a stranger but would forsake her daughter.

Baba Yaga told her that she was a cruel mother—but a kindly grandmother. Then Anastasia fired, and the globe protecting Elvanna shattered, leaving her exposed.

Elvanna actually shrieked, whatever rage and fear she felt at the revelation of Anastasia’s bloodline came pouring out. She looked frantic, her cool mask shattered as completely as her shield.

She quickly teleported away, to a corner of the room outside of Talsune’s reach. That didn’t stop Aenland and Nestian from cornering her. It didn’t stop them from killing her.

And she was dead. But this wasn’t over.

She stood, her wounds closing themselves, life returning to her eyes. She taunted us that this was the secret protection of the queens of Irrisen. Every time she died, she would absorb the souls of a number of Jadwiga, killing them in her place and regaining her strength. She told us that we could kill her over and over, but it wouldn’t matter, not unless we were willing to kill every single person in Irrisen with a drop of royal blood in them.

Her gloating was cut short, however. She lifted her hand—and instead of whatever spell she intended to cast at us, the familiar darkness of negative energy engulfed her hand. She let out an unholy scream as the dark energy engulfed her, and her skin was ripped away from her body, leaving a skinless corpse. Everything around us shifted and changed.

We found ourselves atop a frozen volcano, in a place we later realized was formerly the Veil of Frozen Tears. Elvanna’s flayed body stood before us, still living despite becoming a gory mass of muscle and bone. My mind worked quickly through the possibilities. There was only one I could possibly land on. What Elvanna had done. By stealing the souls of hundreds of Jadwiga to save her own skin (or lack thereof now), she had crossed a line.

She had completed the final step of her own lichdom.

The thing she was now was clearly not just an ordinary lich. There was something otherworldly about her—something fey, like her mother and her mothers’ riders. But I don’t know as much about fey as I do the undead, and precisely what she was now, in her totality, eluded me.

She had some kind of shield around herself. Hundreds of sickly green hands would form around her, pushing away anything that tried to harm her.

And she wasn’t alone.

Baba Yaga had manifest behind her, and she seemed to be drawing power from her entrapped mother. Our patron, one of the most powerful creatures in all the world, let out an impossible to describe scream as what must have been unimaginable pain wracked her body.

And all around us, the shed layers of the doll that had entrapped Baba Yaga now manifested the spirits of eleven of the Crone Queens we’d already defeated. Incorporeal spirits, bound here by Elvanna as both kin and phylactery.

Aenland turned to me, confirming with me that she had become a lich. He wondered what might happen if I took control of this ritual—if I somehow took over the lich transformation and took Baba Yaga’s power for myself. I won’t pretend it wasn’t a fascinating and very appealing notion. But I had no idea how I might even begin to do so.

In the meantime, I used my one Ectoplasmic spell for the day, burning the ghostly former queens as I rained a green-tinted phantasmal fire from the sky.

Around me, the others began destroying the phantom Crone Queens. With a few gone, Edeya was able to get a good look at the shed layers of the doll. She called to us that destroying the dolls would weaken Elvanna, stripping her of some of the Mythic Power she was stealing from her mother.

That gave me an idea for how I might interrupt the ritual. It was a longshot, but I still had The Witch’s Knife. Baba Yaga’s Death. And one of the dolls had manifest right next to myself and Talsune. As my partner began tearing through more of the Crone Queens and the dolls surrounding us, I leapt down and stabbed the dagger into the nearest doll. The blade was ripped from my hand, pulled into the doll. And the doll shattered—unlike when the others attacked the other dolls, this one didn’t release a burst of icy energy. It simply crumbled away, taking the knife with it. So I couldn’t do that a second time.

I didn’t need to. Talsune’s blade cut through another doll and two other Crone Queens. Aenland destroyed the last few remaining spirits. And the remaining dolls were quick to follow.

Elvanna was not done, however. She raised a hand, and summoned three undead horsemen. One with black armor, one with red, and one in pure white. We had seen the Black Rider, our predecessor, in his final moments. And we’d seen the shattered bodies of the Red and White Riders on display in the heart of Whitethrone. Which left no doubt about who we were facing—and what fate Elvanna had in store for us if we failed to stop her.

I, for one, had no intention of being twisted into a new Grimm Rider, bowing to Elvanna in earnest.

While the others turned their attention to the new threat, I turned on Elvanna. We had to get rid of that otherworldly shield. I cast through the pocket watch, and shot a beam of energy that would have sucked away the life of any weaker foes. It couldn’t snuff out Elvanna’s lifeforce—but with nowhere else to go the energy coalesced around her and ignited. Still, her shield held strong.

Talsune turned and attacked the Red Rider, while I had Katya (my new wight) attack the White Rider. Nestian felled our predecessor. Talsune’s blade sliced through the Red Rider. And the White Rider followed shortly thereafter.

As we’d focused on the undead Riders, something had begun happening in the strange storm that surrounded our battlefield. There were flashes, echoes, of other times and other places. Occasionally a portal would rip open, for a moment, and allies we’d made throughout time and space on this journey took up arms against Elvanna. I saw two of the Dragonkin riders we’d met on Triaxus, joined by our lovely Cesseer. Nadya, my dear Greta, and the rebels we’d joined in toppling Elvanna’s regime. Jadrenka and Ratibor, bringing the force of two new deities down on Elvanna’s shield. Zernebeth and Denya sent twin Fire Snakes to engulf the fey-lich queen. And finally, Xanthadon and Jairess, whose contribution finally shattered the barrier around Elvanna.

There was nowhere left for her to run. She was well and truly cornered this time. Aenland and Nestian teamed up to lay into her one final time. Talsune flew us past her, bringing his blade down on her as we passed. Then he landed us perfectly so I could shoot another Massacre spell through the pocket watch, engulfing her in life draining energy.

Elvanna lay there, broken and barely clinging to the last remnants of life in her. Behind her, the ghostly form of Baba Yaga materialized fully. For the first time, we saw her in all her power. Elvanna weakly asked if she had been a good daughter. Baba Yaga told her, despite how it might seem, she surprisingly had been.

The last breath left Elvanna’s lungs, and her body fell back into the snow of the throne room, where we had reappeared.

Baba Yaga made an announcement to all of the people of White Throne—or perhaps everyone across Irrisen. She told them that she had returned, and that Elvanna’s reign was at an end. Something something everyone should kneel when our Kindly Grandmother returns. It was a bit of a blur.

With that announcement done, Baba Yaga turned to us. She said it was time she rewarded us for our service, as promised. Despite us plotting to bind her to a contract to limit her ability to manipulate events going forward. Which she knew all about. Because of course she did.

She said that before she rewarded us, however, she was going to reward those who helped to get us this far, who’d had just as much a hand in her return as we did. Nadya, Greta, Jadrenka, Cesseer, Anastasia, and Zernebeth—she was going to grant each of them a wish as well.

Nadya took a page out of Nestian’s book, and wished for her children to be protected for the rest of their lives. Exactly the sort of wish I’d expect of her, especially after all she’d been through to make sure her children made it through this rebellion unharmed.

Greta wished for exactly what she’d told me she would: the ability for all other Winter Wolves to take a human shape anywhere in the world. Baba Yaga seemed perplexed by this request, noting that Greta didn’t even know these other Winter Wolves. Greta said they deserved a chance, even if it was a chance to be total bastards. How they used this chance was up to them.

I for one look forward to seeing just what her kin do with this newfound freedom. Golarian’s in for some big surprises in the near future.

Baba Yaga told Jadrenka that her wish was going to be for Baba Yaga to allow her to return to Artrosa in one piece, and to overlook that she had essentially stolen the Eon Pit from Baba Yaga and changed its resting place to suit Jadrenka and her ascension. Jadrenka did not argue. I’m sure she knew just how generous this offer was, given the things Baba Yaga was capable of. I don’t think even the newly ascended goddess would be able to withstand it if Baba Yaga chose to take ire with her.

Cesseer asked for a device to allow her to travel to other planets. Specifically, a way for her to return home to Triaxus when she desired, so she could use resources from her homeland to help in training a new generation of Battle Flowers here on Golarian. Baba Yaga said she would do Cesseer one better, and would give her the ability to also take one person with her whenever she travelled between worlds.

Anastasia and Baba Yaga had a moment of silence, before Anastasia declared that she would wait until last, wanting to carefully consider her wish. Given the position she was about to be in, that seemed understandable.

No hesitation, Zernebeth told Baba Yaga she wanted immortality. A woman after my own heart. She wanted the time to try to fix some of the wrongs she’d committed while in the Technic League. Baba Yaga granted it to her, although she warned that more time did not necessarily mean she would undo the things she had done. Zernebeth seemed to understand.

And that brought her to us. We unanimously agreed that Aenland should go last, considering what he was going to ask for.

So instead, Edeya went first. Despite what she’d originally said about wanting to slow her aging so that she could watch over Irrisen as our homeland moved into this new age, she must have changed her mind somewhere along the way. Instead, she wished for Illivor to be able to be fully human again, but for Edeya to still keep her magic despite losing her familiar. Baba Yaga said she could do this, but it might be a bit complicated. Apparently whatever A’Pol’La had done to make Illivor the way she currently was, he hadn’t actually known what he was doing and kind of patched some things together that shouldn’t have really worked but somehow did.

Next, Nestian made his wish. For the protection of his bloodline—not just his children, but their children and so forth. Baba Yaga commented that she had liked the bears in Russia, and that is was a tragedy that they had been removed from Irrisen. She granted his wish, looking forward to the return of bears to this country.

Which meant I was next. I admitted to having changed my mind on what I was going to wish for multiple times over this journey. Originally I wanted my old looks back without losing my new power, then I wanted my memories back, then I wanted mythic power. Until I finally landed at where I am now. I wished that Keisuke would be returned to life, in whatever way was necessary for him to have the same chance I’d had. Baba Yaga seemed perplexed at my wish to help ‘that rat bastard’, but she agreed. She said she had something to discuss with ‘Karzoug’ anyways, and she would grab his body while she was there. She promised that someday, I would come across him again. Probably dead in a ditch. And I’d have my chance. But she warned that him being better was not guaranteed. It was the old ‘nature vs nurture’ question. I’m fine with that. Like Greta said, it’s about giving him a chance. If he decides to be a rat bastard again after we give him the opportunity to do better, that’s on him.

Baba Yaga said that would be my wish for someone else, which meant I still had the wish for myself. I was…taken aback by this, honestly. Since Greta already got her wish, I hadn’t needed to give the second wish to her after all. I’d honestly been a bit at a loss for what I was going to do with it. I hadn’t considered—not once—that my first wish technically only benefitted Keisuke. I had been so zeroed in on wanting to give him that chance that it never occurred to me.

So, Baba Yaga said I still had a wish for myself, unless I felt like being altruistic with it as well. I decided I’d used up my altruism for the day, and before there was a chance for her to change her mind, I wished for mythic power. Baba Yaga agreed that she could do that, but warned she would only be inducing my ascension—if I wanted to become as powerful as those four warriors who’d once killed Illivor, I would have to find my own Mythic Trials and succeed against them. I agreed. That was fine, it wasn’t like I’d been planning on going into a quiet retirement after this anyways. I’m sure in our travels Greta and I will find plenty of trouble to get into.

And with that, it was done. I felt a new pool of power gather within me. Not the darkness I’d been drawing on this entire time. Something that felt both unimaginable vast, but also like it was an extension of myself. As if my own will had been shaped into pure power. Like Baba Yaga said, it isn’t the incredible overwhelming power that Monty had—but it’s the first step down that path.

Finally, there was Aenland. Baba Yaga told him that she was not entirely opposed to what he was going to ask of her—after all this she could use a vacation. But she wanted him to add one addendum before she would agree to his terms. There had to be a clause allowing her to be at her full power should a great catastrophe shake this world—something so bad that the Rough Beast could be released from his chains and the universe as we know it would hang in the balance.

Aenland agreed, writing out a final airtight clause about the circumstances in which the rest of the contract would be rendered temporarily void. As he passed the parchment to Baba Yaga to sign, he asked why she was so willing to agree to this. Baba Yaga laughed and told him simply that it was unexpected. And that it would be in the back of his mind for the rest of his life—that little question of if she had played him, if she’d had some grand scheme. Even if she didn’t, he’d never know for sure.

Clever psychological games. I wouldn’t expect any less at this point from our Kindly Grandmother.

As Baba Yaga took up a quill, she looked to Anastasia. Who finally made her wish: she wished for this contract to be binding. She stole Aenland’s wish right out from under him.

She explained that she didn’t feel it was right for her to begin her reign by taking a boon from Baba Yaga. This was her beginning. But it was the end of Aenland’s service—he deserved a reward, not to use his wish for her and her people.

Aenland seemed about as taken aback as I’d been when suddenly the opportunity for another wish for myself was presented.

Baba Yaga told him that he’d been right that his experiences here had sharpened him into the weapon that could fell Treerazor—there was no reason for him to make that wish, it was already granted. So Aenland considered for a long moment, before he said he was going to begrudgingly take a page out of Cesseer’s book. He had heard legends of a ship that could fly through the astral sea, to distant planets and planes. His wish was for a ship known as a Spelljammer.

He still had the idea in his head that after felling Treerazor and the Demon Lord that spawned him, he would make his way back to Earth to become a sort of protector for that magically dead world. I can’t say I entirely understand. But, then, that’s part of Aenland’s charm. He has always befuddled me a bit with how he thinks, and what he prioritizes.

And with that…it’s over. We’re each going our separate ways for now. Nestian and Edeya are staying together, of course. Aenland is going to return to Kyonin to slay Treerazor. Without our help, because he still stubbornly believes we would not survive, despite everything we’ve done together.

And Greta and I are going to make a trip to Ustalav before we begin our next journey. It…feels like it’s been forever since I was back there. Even though I don’t remember most of the last year in which I was away. A lot’s changed. For the better. Definitely for the better.

I’ll miss Nestian, Aenland, and Edeya. But they’re always a Sending and a Teleport away. I don’t doubt we’ll all see each other again. And until then…Greta and I have our own adventure to begin. Together.

I asked her if, realistically, Keisuke could be revived in such a way as to get the same sort of chance I had. Vigliv said that if anyone could pinpoint a time in his life where he was redeemable, it would be Baba Yaga. That is the best answer I can hope for, I think.

Before we parted ways with Vigliv for the final time, we were attacked by some giant infernal crocodile. But just like the last time when Grandmother’s Cauldron was under attack, we easily dispatched it.

Vigliv then unveiled a number of glowing orbs with images of familiar places. The island where we’d received Baba Yaga’s death, the fortress where we retrieved a crown (and where I got my first taste of how much I like controlling a Baykok), a cabin in the woods, and a final orb whose image was not immediately clear. It was as if it were distant, too distant to view just yet.

We theorized that we needed to touch an orb to go where we wanted to go. We debated whether we’d gone to the fortress of the island first last time. Aenland jumped in and touched the orb for the island—and immediately vanished before falling from the ceiling to the ground in front of us. He tried it a second time with the same results. I recalled that the fortress was definitely the first place we’d gone, and Aenland insisted on still being the first to touch it. Be my guest, I didn’t want to be thrown from the sky if we were wrong.

We appeared in the fields just outside that large tent we’d seen last time.

Before, all of the unusual planar creatures within were stone dead. This time…not so much. We tried to have a diplomatic conversation with them, but their leader had some very mixed up memories of *us* being the ones who had killed them—rather than Elvanna and her cronies.

Before we were flung into a fight, however, there was a sound from the skies outside, and the tiger-like planar being called for his men to fight. There were baykoks from the fortress swarming the tent.

So I suppose bringing Roscoe here was not in our favor this time, if they had been fighting baykoks. Not like they’ve ever seen a baykok like Roscoe. They’ve never seen a gun before, either, I’d bet.

They learned. Fast.

The tent was a chaotic blur of animalistic outsiders and undead archers, and both sides were as happy to try to kill us as they were each other.

Then came the winterwight. The queen who had once bore the crown still stashed in the bag of holding. Queen Bremagyr. She was here to take it back.

Also, that destroyed Warsworn I’d identified last time we went to the fortress? It was back, and much less dead. Well…it was very much undead, but you get what I mean.

Much as I would have loved a winterwight pet, this seemed more like the time to kill than to control. So we dispatched the ancient queen and her undead subjects.

Once the tent was cleared, we were given a vision of Anastasia travelling through this place with a man we’d never seen before—the fourth of the mythic heroes who had once slain Ilivorr, as it turned out. He was advising Anastatia, it seemed. Trying to pass on some sort of wisdom to her.

Afterwards, the orbs reappeared. We chose the island, at the correct moment this time. Aenland again jumped in first, and we followed suit.

We had a run in with a sea serpent, but nothing really difficult for us to deal with. It might even be the same one I distracted with an illusion last time. Who knows?

We were greeted as old friends by the local maftet guards, who were thankfully not sacrificing their queen to ocean horrors this time around. Instead, they invited us to come speak to the queen and tell her all that had transpired since we left the island last time. We agreed, and were led into their city.

Queen Esmyra was looking all the more radiant now that she wasn’t being sacrificed to some overblown water elemental. And hers was not the only familiar face waiting to greet us. Dimitri, looking more chipper and perhaps less pale, greeted us as well. He told us he’d travelled into this place with Anastasia, as we’d originally assumed. But when he came to this island, he asked to remain behind, and Anastasia gave her blessing. He was going to retire in a much warmer place than he’d come from. And it seemed, perhaps become nobility himself, if the looks the queen and him shared are any indication. Good for him.

The queen gave us her blessing to return to the sacred little grove where we’d once received Baba Yaga’s death—which I still kept handy as a powerful little dagger, although unlike Talsune I hardly ever fight with blades. Perhaps it’s a bit flippant to keep a powerful artifact tied to our benefactor’s rise to power as a backup weapon, but it’s not like I can return it to Baba Yaga until she has hands to hold it with again anyways.

Thankfully, there was not an anti-undead statue trying to kill us this time. Or a rotting tree of undeath. After viewing another vision of Anastasia and that man—Monty—those orbs reappeared. There were only two left that we hadn’t been to. An old cabin in the woods, and whatever was slowly approaching in the final orb.

Through the orb, we appeared in a silent forest. Before us was a cabin. Last time we saw this cabin, its interior had merely been a pretense for us to step through a mirror into the heart of the Dancing Hut. This time, the interior really was that of an old cabin. When we looked in the window, we saw haunting movement within.

There was nowhere to go but in. So we risked entering the building, and were immediately assaulted by half a dozen rickety living mannequins. Their movements were jerky and unsettling. And they were, for all intents and purposes, little golems. Which meant they were immune to my and Edeya’s magic.

Fortunately, Aenland had run around back, and he messaged me with his Stone of Farspeech, telling me there was someone deeper in the cabin. A troll of some kind. Now that, that I could deal with.

I slipped around the mannequins and made for the rear of the cabin. There a strangely polite troll greeted me—although he was still going to try to kill me, no matter what niceties he made. Then a bunch of minions of his barreled out of the nearby closet. I…have no idea how, given that they were all fairly large creatures, and the closet was barely big enough for two regular sized people. It didn’t matter how. What mattered was cutting down the number of enemies, now that reinforcements arrived.

A nice little spell called Wail of the Banshee worked nicely for that. All of the creatures who had tumbled out of the closet, as well as the troll, were ripped apart by the negative energy.

The troll wasn’t done, though. Not because of his regeneration, that was easy enough to take care of.

It was because the troll hadn’t been the one attacking us in the first place.

From the corpse, a shadowy specter lunged at me, trying to take my body as her next host. I steeled my defenses, and forced her out. That is not how this was going to go. I was the one who controlled specters, not the other way around. I tried to force my will upon her in return for her brazen attempt to control me, but we found ourselves at a stalemate.

A stalemate that Aenland quickly ended with some well-placed arrows.

Back in the front of the cabin, Nestian had dealt with the mannequins. The cabin went silent.

We saw another vision, and the final orb appeared.

Where else would it be but Baba Yaga’s Dinner Table?

We steeled ourselves to return to the place where the ascended Crone Queen had nearly killed us. We were far more powerful now. Nothing waiting for us there could possibly be a threat.

Rather than appearing directly in the room with the long table and 14 chairs, we appeared in a blazing hot room, with a craggy opening in the ground with lava flowing beneath. We weren’t alone, either. Fire Giants and Hellhounds guarded the way, and we had to fight through them to move forward.

It’s been a long time since we’d fought something that resists fire rather than being vulnerable to it. My favorite trick for a room full of people trying to kill us wasn’t going to do much. Although I did boneshaker a giant into falling off the crag and into the lava. The lava didn’t hurt him but the fall sure must have, because he didn’t get back up.

We moved beyond the boiling hot room, and came to a chamber where a handmaiden devil and a bunch of Erinyes guarded the way. Not like it’s the first time we’d dealt with a handmaiden devil, although the flying archers were a bit of a pain. They were nothing next to Roscoe, though.

Then, finally, we entered the chamber with the long table. Or, at least, where they would have been. In the place of the grand table, 15 thrones stood. The grandest, the new 15th throne, was only partially made. As if we’d interrupted it being built.

There was nothing here. No Crone Queens—we’d killed them all. No Anastasia, either.

She would be further ahead, at the true heart of the Dancing Hut.

There was a new orb at the back of the room, where the mirror Elvanna had once shattered stood. The image within it was the Diabolos Drive.

We entered—nowhere to go but forward.

We found ourselves in a strange, starry place. Constellations hung in the air around us. And the Diabolos Drive stood before us, as strange and alien and powerful as it had been the first time. We were not alone, however. A being with three faces sat in the air above the Diabolos Drive. One face appeared to be the mask of Brigh, a lesser known good of invention and constructs. One face seemed…unstable, somehow. Shifting between a woman’s face and a featureless entity. All three faces spoke to us. They wanted to test us, to make sure we were ready for the trial ahead. And while we fought, the entity would ask us questions. Questions about divinity—what we thought of the gods, what their role in the world was, that sort of thing.

Whatever this being was trying to glean, it seemed satisfied with our answers. The head that had been shifting form finally stabilized, remaining as the image of a woman, no trace of the other face. They bid us enter the Diabolus Drive, and let Monty know that it was not his time now, but his time would come.

It didn’t make sense then, but it sure as hell made sense once we finally met this Monty face-to-face.

When we entered the Diabolos Drive, we found ourselves in a featureless demiplane, all white and sharp angles. Anastasia and Monty were just ahead. Anastasia seemed happy to see us again. Her new friend—or mentor, whatever—didn’t seem displeased that we’d gotten this far. Just…dispassionate. He told us matter-of-factly that his power had breached a point in which reality was trying to ascend him as a god. A god of humanity, as Aroden had once been.

Monty did not want that. I don’t really understand his reasoning, but it sounds like he anticipates the role being filled at a future time by more than one newly ascended god. He didn’t believe that humanity should be represented by a single god. Something about humanity being a melody and a dirge? I don’t know, whatever he was talking about was on a metaphysical level past what I prefer to think about.

Monty had a single request for us—and another test. They were one and the same: kill him.

Monty flung Anastasia into a chromatic orb, which began shrinking. If we took too long, Anastasia would be affected by all 7 colors of the orb—and that was likely a death sentence. To motivate us or some bullshit.

Monty split into two beings—one still standing by Anastasia, and the other, which appeared directly in front of me and Talsune.

A bunch of pillars rose from the ground, and snipers appeared on them. They were going to just keep firing while we tried to get to this mythic asshole. And then, to top it off, he basically cheated. Any time some of his minions were injured or killed—or worse his double—he would stop time with his mythic power, and then both he and his toys would be all healed up.

Edeya noticed something vital when things were looking impossible. The two versions of our mythic foe seemed drawn to each other. Like magnets. We decided that might be important to finally stopping him. Nestian grabbed the body the next time we killed the double, and then Edeya dimension doored both to the opposite side of our little arena, where the original Monty stood.

It worked just as we’d hoped, when the body was close to him, he was slower and his mythic power seemed less overwhelming.

Monty tried to turn the tables on us, flinging the body away from him with telekinesis. But the damage was done—all we’d needed were those precious few seconds of him not turning back time on us.

In those seconds, we killed an ascending god.

Elvanna will be nothing compared to how much we had to fight tooth and nail against this bastard.

Monty’s body rejoined as one, and then vanished as if he’d stopped time again and simply left. Before we had much time to process any of it, Monty reappeared. The glow of divinity was gone from around him. He decided we were worthy, for whatever the fuck it’s worth. I, for one, was getting sick of being toyed with by mythic assholes who think we need to be tested after everything we’ve been through. Nestian seemed to feel the same, any words he spared Monty were short and terse.

Anastasia, it turned out, was never in any real danger. And had been in on it. Which is kind of annoying, but at least it means our little heir was never at risk for being burned, burned again by acid, electrified, poisoned, petrified, driven insane, and then teleported to a random plane somewhere in the cosmos.

Prismatic Sphere is a hell of a spell. Kind of a shame it isn’t one I’m capable of casting. I could find some fun uses.

Anyways, it’s done and over. We left the demiplane, talked to the three faced being—who Monty referred to as ‘Triune’, and then a new trapdoor appeared, and we descended it to return to the cauldron room of the Dancing Hut.

And that’s it. We’ve done everything we have to before dethroning Elvanna. Tomorrow will be the day. After a real rest in Grimm Labyrinthus.

As we made our way back to the clocktower, we talked about the future. What we were planning to use our wish for, now that the time for it was looming closer. I’d already shared my plans with everyone but Aenland, so mine was hardly a surprise to anyone at this point. Nestian said he wanted to wish for his bloodline to be protected. That, even when he was gone, his family would be safe. It’s a very Nestian wish. Edeya said she was going to wish to extend her life, so that she could watch over Irrisen while the country went through the inevitable changes that would come of removing Baba Yaga and her daughters from the throne.

Aenland brought up the concerns he’d voiced to me already, about how to keep Baba Yaga from interfering with Anastasia rule and while also not damning another place with her presence. Nestian considered this, and told us he was afraid that Baba Yaga might be holding far worse forces at bay. We knew she had some sort of deal with the King in Yellow that kept him from turning his gaze on what Baba Yaga felt was hers. Nestian was right, we had no idea how many other powerful destructive forces she might be holding at bay.

Aenland came up with a rather brilliant solution. He drafted a contract, and suggested that Anastasia make a position in her government that Baba Yaga would fill. The contract laid out what this advisory role would entail—including giving all assets (such as the Hut) to the ruling family of Irrisen, and not using her powers in any way that could be harmful to the royal family or any innocents. She would have to follow the contract under threat of losing her powers entirely if she broke it.

Aenland’s wish would be for her to accept this position and sign the contract.

I don’t know if Baba Yaga will go for it. But I think she’ll respect what a crafty move it is, if nothing else.

We all split up to go about any business we still had. I talked to Cesseer—who it would seem had started a relationship with Nadya. Good for them. I bet her kids will take to Cesseer, and maybe even learn a thing or two about hand-to-hand fighting. Given how good they were at fucking with the winter witches back when they tried to stage their execution, they’d probably be good at it.

I contacted my mother to tell her that it would be safe soon, after tomorrow Elvanna shouldn’t be sending anyone after my family one way or another. I also mentioned that I’d probably be visiting soon, because there was someone I wanted them to meet. My mother sounded enthusiastic about me bringing someone home with me. Well, it’s not like I ever bothered to introduce anyone to my parents before. There’d never been someone worth the effort.

Now there is.

I gathered the others up, and asked if anyone else wanted to go to the Dancing Hut, because I was planning to make my way there. The others agreed with this idea, and Edeya teleported us across the city to the Hut.

Zorka greeted us. I think it was kind of bittersweet for her that this was almost over. The Dancing Hut would be a lot quieter without us, Jadrenka, or Ratibor. It would just be her and Baba Yaga. Nestian asked her is she was the Dancing Hut, which Zorka denied. She did say she was basically part of the hut, though. She belonged serving Baba Yaga, that was her place and her purpose.

The others went to talk to Baba Yaga, but I remained behind. I hadn’t come to speak to her, not this time. I asked Zorka if she could remember anything from when I was the Grimm Rider. Not the big things I already knew about from Baba Yaga and Keisuke and Rasputin. The little things. The little memories you don’t even think about, that you have day in and day out with other people. I didn’t have any of those from the last year.

Zorka told me that I came and went like the other Riders, always doing jobs for Baba Yaga. But she also said I’d been the most personable of the Riders, the only one who talked to Zorka like any other person. She said I seemed the most human out of the Riders.

That…I can live with that. I don’t think there’s anything else I need to know about my past. It can be laid to rest, and I can move on unhindered by The Grimm Rider’s shadow starting tomorrow. Once I complete the task that made me the Grimm Rider in the first place.

The others exited, and we returned to the Clocktower with Baba Yaga in tow, still inside of that doll.

Of course, for the rest of the evening I spent time with Greta. This would be my last night bound to Irrisen. Once we’d killed Elvanna, the world was open for us to go anywhere we wanted. To see and experience anything our hearts desire.

I asked Greta if she knew what she was going to wish for, with the wish I was handing off to her. She thought about it, and said she wanted to give all the winter wolves the same chance she’d had. To walk amongst people in human form anywhere in the world. She seemed surprised at herself for wanting that, a gift for others. I can relate. And I think it sounds like a brilliant idea.

So, anyways. Xanthadon.

We made our way out to where Xanthadon had left that big spore-infested hole in the ground. The area was completely changed from before, with giant mushrooms sprouting out of the ground as tall as trees, and a general smell of decay hanging thick in the air.

An ornery black dragon had made its home just outside the hole leading deep into fungal caverns below. We slayed it, it was hardly a challenge to slay a dragon at this point. I was mildly tempted to make it into a skeleton, but it would have been too large to take anywhere. And I hardly need an undead dragon at this point, anyways, given my partnership with Talsune. The whole intimidation factor of riding on the back of an undead dragon is, I think, overshadowed by the intimidation factor of riding on a dragonkin warrior who’s about to shove a giant greatsword clean through you.

Anyways, dragon slayed, and anti-fungal medicine made by the combined talents of Joseph and Wuso taken, we descended into the bowls of Golarian.

Things got…weird after that. We travelled deep, impossibly deep, into these caverns. And then the mushrooms began singing. I promise you, this was not a spore induced hallucination or anything. All of the fungus coating the walls and growing in the darkness began singing a haunting melody.

It was the voice of Cyth-V'sug.

We arrived in an immense cavern that stretched out before us into darkness. There was a dim light far on the other side of the impenetrable darkness. We heard Xanthadon’s voice. She asked Aenland to join here where she stood.

Aenland was suddenly grabbed by what looked like a rope—or perhaps a web—of fungus, which pulled him into the darkness. I couldn’t make out what was happening after that. Talsune could see better than I could, but Aenland and Xanthadon were beyond even his sharp night vision.

Whatever Aenland did, suddenly a deep voice spoke, ordering the deaths of Aenland’s friends. So, us, obviously.

We fought through Cyth-V'sug's minions, and even had to destroy some large tendrils of the Demon Lord himself. Somewhere along the line, Aenland called upon the forces of all of the elven warriors who had once been turned into Xanthadon’s twisted fungal warriors. The spirits of his kin fired a volley of ghostly arrows at Cyth-V'sug as the Demon Lord manifest himself in this realm. And Aenland’s archers won out, slaying Cyth-V'sug. Not once and for all—it would take killing him in the Abyss to achieve that. But he was beaten for now, and that’s what really matters. I think Aenland has the idea in his head to chase down the Demon Lord after he kills Treerazor. Without us. Because that’s such a smart idea.

I promised I wouldn’t interfere with him fighting Treerazor alone, I never said I’d be happy about it, or quit calling him an idiot for it.

Anyways, Aenland sent his archers off to return to Kyonin to await his return. I bet that dick who I talked to over Sending will be knocked down a few pegs when a ghost army answering to Aenland shows up. I’d love to see the look on his face.

Xanthadon was…worse for the wear, though. Apparently she’d turned into some kind of fungal drider thing, and removing her from Cyth-V'sug's grasp kind of removed her legs too. She’s not going to be mobile anytime soon.

We left that godawful temple to decay, and instead I Plane Shifted us to Grimm Labyrinthus. Xanthadon was unconscious after her ordeals, so we left her in a room with a comfortable bed and some reading material incase she woke up.

Then it was back to the Mobius Chamber. Again. I was getting sick of sleeping there and waking up on the same day, and so was Nestian from the sound of it. Plus, the Mobius Chamber hardly has the luxuries of Grimm Labyrinthus. I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed, thank-you-very-much.

Edeya vanished for a few days by our perspective—she’d just popped out for a few minutes to buy something from her point of view. When she came back I gave myself a reprieve from casting for a bit to chat with her. She noted that I looked pensive, so I asked her—given how much thought she’d clearly put into it in recent months—what her thoughts on redemption were. It’s not something I’d ever put much thought into. I don’t normally care for that sort of thing—everyone makes their own choices in the end, for good or for ill. But one thing I’ve come to realize recently is that those choices aren’t made in a vacuum. The people around you—or lack thereof—affect the choices you’ll make. Change the circumstances, and you might completely change the outcome for the same person.

At least…that seems to be how it worked out for me.

Anyways. I asked Edeya for her thoughts on redemption. On what conclusions she’d come to. And, most importantly, whether she thought someone with no memories of what they’d done could actually redeem themselves. For the first part, Edeya said that redemption was hard—especially now—but not impossible. The person just had to sincerely want it and take action towards being better. As for the second part…she said I would know better than she would. She told me the reason I felt so uncomfortable thinking about this is because I was stepping into a philosophical debate, and at the heart of it was: are you the same person if you come back with no memory of your previous self? I told her that I’d always considered myself to be the same person, memories or no. The Grimm Rider is just the choices I made in different circumstances—that’s still me, still someone I was entirely capable of being.

But I think Edeya hit closer to the target than I let on. When I write about my past self, I talk about the Grimm Rider like another person, even though that’s still all me. When I think about the Grimm Rider I can’t help but think of ‘him’ instead of ‘me’. The Grimm Rider is like a story to me, distant, barely real. But that was me, even if I don’t remember it, I did all the things the Grimm Rider did. I would be entirely capable of being him, and had things gone differently I could have been that same person all over again.

I told Edeya that I am simply me, regardless of the circumstances that might change what that means, and I do believe that. She said I had my answer, then. I suppose I do. If I believe that of myself, then that would logically carry to Keisuke as well if I went through with this.

I’m finding fewer and fewer excuses not to go through with this. Part of me desperately wants to find a reason this is the wrong choice. Because then I wouldn’t have to give up the goals I’ve been reaching for from practically the very beginning. Mythic power, immortality. Safety from Pharasma’s grasp. Especially looking that in the face right now, knowing we’re about to be working with a Pharasman who could probably smite me with a thought…my every instinct screams to save myself, Keisuke be damned. And in my position, that’s certainly what he would do. I doubt it would even be a question.

I guess Nestian’s not entirely wrong about our differences.

I’m going to keep just going around in circles if I keep writing about it. I at least have a few more days to consider my options. Maybe more if we keep using Jadrenka’s nifty little time chamber.

Eventually we had to leave the chamber and return to our mission—only a few hours after we’d entered rather than days later. We made a beeline for the royal cemetery, with no Winter Witches or fungal monstrosities stopping us on the way. We should probably do something about Xanthadon sooner rather than later, with that rot encroaching on the city the way it is.

Not today, though.

We made it to the cemetery, where we saw a number of wraiths milling about, and two necromancers guarding the entrance to a grand mausoleum. They looked like chumps, as far as necromancers go, despite their ghostly apparitions.

We were prepared to strike—but someone else got there first. A dark streak fell from the sky like a bolt of dark lightning, landing before one of the wraiths. A scythe glinted in the dim light that shone through the clouds blanketing the sky. But the figure did not bring the blade down on the wraith. A second—much larger—streak fell from the sky, shaking the earth as it landed behind him. As the dust cleared, an enormous skeletal creature towered over the figure. It reached down, striking at the man—who I could now make out was a dusky purple tiefling with raven-like wings—but he barely flinched at the giant claws raking at him. Instead, he leapt into the air, using those wings that were clearly not just for decoration to fly straight up as he dragged the scythe along the creature’s midsection. He flipped in mid-air, then came hurtling back to the ground, before flaring his wings and landing safely.

Showoff.

The hulking creature’s bones crumbled in on themselves from the single slice, as effectively as if I’d used three Boneshatters on it at once.

In the back of my mind, I knew what this thing was, from some reading or encounter I’d had in my past. A tzittzimitl—an unimaginably powerful undead that can change positive energy to negative, shoot powerful eyebeams, and cause freezing eclipses. And this man had destroyed it with a single swing of his scythe.

I was getting another look at what Mythic Power was capable of.

There wasn’t time to gawk, though. Those other necromancers might have been c list at best, but they still had a bunch of wraiths surrounding us, and we had to deal with those to even get close to the crypt.

Even without some sort of mythic psychopomp-tiefling, we would have cleaned up the necromancers and their little spirits in no time. Really, is this the best Elvanna has in terms of necromantic power? Apparently I was the only actual talented magic user she had working for her, and with the Grimm Rider gone she has nothing but these bottom of the barrel flunkies.

Not that I’m complaining, of course. I’d just think the queen of a country could get some better help. Then again, we’ve probably killed most of her ‘better help’, and the rest probably don’t want to work for her because she’s a crazy bitch who’s trying to freeze the world.

All this is to say, we had no issues clearing out the necromancers and their pets. I definitely did not let on that I was, myself, a necromancer in front of the mythic demi-psychopomp who apparently works directly for Atropos. That’s in the strictly ‘need to know’ category, and for once my dear friends did not spill a secret within moments of meeting someone new—as much as I could tell Aenland desperately wanted to.

At the door of the crypt, Nestian resisted the urge to immediately knock at a closed door—only for this bird-man, who’d introduced himself as Corvus, to knock instead.

There was no response, and when Nestian and Corvus pushed the door of the mausoleum open we found the room beyond completely devoid of life. Which, I mean, it’s a crypt so I suppose that should be what one would expect to find. But given our luck usually there’s a monster crawling about, or a Winter Witch ambush, or something.

The others spotted a trap within an alcove with a door beyond it. Aenland shot an arrow into it, using his dispelling power to negate whatever magic was on it. Unfortunately, this seemed to set off some kind of alarm, because we immediately started hearing sounds coming from down below.

Then some woman dressed in strange clothes appeared, using what appeared to be Interplanetary Teleport—except whatever she had just done, it didn’t use magic. Only some sort of technology way beyond the scope of my knowledge.

The woman activated some sort of barrier around Corvus, then she disappeared with her mythic prisoner in tow.

So that was great. We come here to help stop a thing because a plant told us to, and some mythic asshole gets captured by an alien.

Sorry if I don’t sound like I was excited to go save a psychopomp-in-training from certain doom.

We ended up having to fight our way through a handful more enemies who ran up through the door that had been warded—but Talsune had been ready to strike anyone who entered, and between him and Aenland we made quick work of them.

We determined that we should head further into the catacombs. Even if the mythic psychopomp weren’t being held below, the enemies had clearly come up from there. And we still needed to stop the resurrection of a Crone Queen, with or without feather-boy’s help.

Down below we killed a skeletal dragon, then found ourselves in a chamber with a strange machine that was being tended to by more of those half-baked necromancers. And as luck would have it, the would-be psychopomp was hooked into the machine, being used as a power source or something.

We started killing the necromancers—and a ghost ship that had been placed within the underground reservoir of water around the catacombs. Well, I say water. Where the ghost ship touched, the water around it turned into blood. Honestly, pretty cool. If I had a place to keep a giant ship in Grimm Labyrinthus I’d have considered adding it to my collection. But as it was, it would just be a waste of my powers that could go towards more useful pets.

We’d fought through most of the necromancers when there was a horrible sound. It was like the machine was screaming. And then some big construct that had been wired to the machine stood, and the face of a Crone Queen appeared on the screen where its face should be. Not one we’d faced. This was Yelizaveta, who from what I gather had been destroyed some twenty years ago in the Veil of Frozen Tears, the same day Ilivorr had died.

She began attacking us, with a mix of her old Crone Queen magic and her new monstrous metal body.

And about that time, feathers decided to quit napping on the job and broke out of the machine. Not like we needed his help, we pretty much took care of the metal crone queen on our own.

After her destruction, some unusual letters came out of her, and vanished into a hole in the sky. I have…literally no idea what that could be.

Anyways, we parted ways with bird boy without any psychopomp related attempts to kill me, so that’s nice I guess.

Before resting, we decided to go to Baba Yaga and find out what we could about the strange hole in the sky we’d seen.

Baba Yaga was not willing to share that particular secret, but she said she was a fair Kindly Grandmother, so she would answer one other question, no matter what, without any subterfuge.

So we asked her about Tashanna. The queen who is absent, the only one we hadn’t faced as a Crone Queen.

Baba Yaga was extremely displeased that what we’d decided to ask was one of her greatest secrets. But a deal was a deal, and she wasn’t going to back out. So she told us the truth. The truth about Tashanna, and about irrisen as a whole.

Baba Yaga created Irrisen as an experiment. After seeing how things were where she was from, Earth, Russia, she wanted to create an experiment to see what it would take to cause a great rebellion that could topple a cruel and controlling empire. So she carved out a place for herself, killing and banishing the Mammoth Lords and anyone else to stood against her. And then she put her first daughter on the throne, and every hundred years she put a new daughter in the previous one’s place. And they were all icy and harsh rulers, all the better for Baba Yaga’s experiment.

But then there was Tashanna.

All of her other daughters had come quietly when their century of rule was over. They were either too afraid to stand up to her, or too ignorant to realize what Baba Yaga was doing to each queen who vanished into the Hut, never to be seen again.

Tashanna saw what her fate would be, and chose to defy it. She made a deal with a Demon Lord, and had an army of demons and frost giants to back her.

Her rebellion failed. Her entire branch of the bloodline was mercilessly killed by Baba Yaga in the Vale of Frozen Tears. Every follower she had—gone. But Tashanna did not share their fate. No, because Baba Yaga was impressed by what she had done. She had come the closest to making Baba Yaga’s experiment a success. And for that, she was not drained of her life like her sisters. She was left on an alien planet far from Golarian, to live out her life so long as she never returned.

So…that’s that. Irrisen has been nothing but a long game played by an immortal trickster.

I wasn’t terribly surprised myself. Not that I suspected something like this, but simply that it fit Baba Yaga to do so.

Aenland was pissed to learn about it. We talked. He wanted to remove Baba Yaga from power, and put Anastasia on the throne like we did. But he was afraid that if Baba Yaga was allowed to have any influence, she would simply twist Anastasia’s rule and keep her experiment running. But he also did not want to banish her from Irrisen or Golarian, just to have her subjugate some other people on some other world.

I normally wouldn’t care what happens to some other planet we’re never going to even be aware of. But Aenland cares. So I want to find a solution. I suggested he think over using his wish to somehow force Baba Yaga to leave forever, while also keeping her from using her powers to hurt others. I…don’t actually know the best wording for this wish, to make sure things go the way Aenland wants. I don’t think Baba Yaga is going to screw us over with our wishes, but I also could see this getting on her bad side. Still, it’s something for him to consider, especially since he doesn’t believe he needs a weapon from Baba Yaga anymore, and he doesn’t trust her to give him anything else he wants without twisting things.

Anyways, that’s a worry for another day.

I went to visit Keisuke basically first thing in the morning. I put it off as long as I could—long enough for us to eat a meal at least and for me to try to think of any other reason we shouldn’t go. Which was ridiculous seeing as I was the one who had brought up to Nestian in the first place! But…I don’t know. Knowing we needed to help Nestian to get his mother back as soon as possible, and knowing I needed to do what I could to try to work this out peacefully despite how the others felt about Keisuke were two separate thoughts that just didn’t interact. They were both just as true.

So with Edeya and Nestian’s help, we teleported back to Artrosa, and made the trek back inside to the chamber housing the Eon Pit.

I asked the others to wait outside for me, until I gave Aenland a signal through the Stone of Farspeech. I didn’t want to spook Keisuke by coming into his demiplane with a group of people who were—besides Greta and Talsune—all hostile towards him. Thankfully, the others agreed to give me time to try to speak to Keisuke one last time.

So I entered the doorway leading into the Nonagon. After walking down a short hallway, I came up a flight of stairs and found myself at the exact spot I usually Plane Shifted into the Nonagon at. Keisuke had his back to me, but his ears shot up at the sound of someone entering his domain. He asked before he turned if it was me, to which I confirmed.

He dropped the spell he had been casting when I spoke. Anyone else would have gotten an immediate Death Clutch—deadly to anyone not as incredibly powerful as my friends and I, and still crippling to even someone more powerful. I apologized for sneaking up on him, which he brushed off, as he seemed almost giddy to reveal what he’d been working on. He kept saying all he’d needed were ‘the time and the place’—which it turns out is what he traded the King in Yellow for his services helping Kostchtchie. He learned about the location of some foreign spymaster’s underground bunker—the place. And the time he needed to attune this ritual to—a moment in which his cousin, the one with Mythic Power he’d told me about so long ago, died for just a short moment.

Keisuke admitted he was getting a bit ahead of himself, as I’d mentioned that I was there to talk about something. He offered a seat at his table and some tea, as always. I took a seat and accepted the warm drink, and explained to Keisuke the real reason I was there. I asked if—since they’d been so much trouble for him recently—I could take Nestian’s mother and her Eidolon off his hands. He regretfully told me that before the Nonagon was fixed that would have sounded like a tempting proposition, but as it was, he needed the Eidolon to complete his ritual. On top of that, removing her now would apparently rip off one of his tails, which was exactly as gruesome as it sounds. He was also concerned for his own safety given that Nestian’s mother had every reason to kill him, even if Nestian was willing to listen on my behalf.

The subject drifted as I tried to think if there was any way to salvage this. Keisuke asked me about our mission to kill Elvanna. If I was still planning to go through with it. What I got out of it. The most obvious answer was that I don’t want the world to be frozen over any more than most people living on Golarian who aren’t fanatic Winter Witches. I prefer not living in an arctic apocalypse—especially if I’m going to try to live forever. That sounds miserable. The world has a lot more to offer me if it’s thriving. Keisuke pointed out that I could survive Elvanna’s apocalypse in Grimm Labyrinthus, but I countered that there was only so much I could do in a demiplane. I know myself—I’m very much a creature of pleasures. I need to experience the highs of living—preferably with Greta at my side. Being holed up in a demiplane would drive me mad.

It was probably a bit rude to point this out to the man who has clearly been spending the majority of his time in a demiplane since the Elvanna of his world froze it over, but it’s not like I was trying to say he was in the wrong for doing that. Just that I wouldn’t choose that life myself.

Talking about that brought Keisuke around to talking a bit about his own universe, the one where Elvanna did win. He’d been marked from a young age as someone meant for greatness—his silver fur meant he was destined to be an oracle or, as it turned out, a shaman. Keisuke was ambitious even back then, and did whatever he had to in order to keep the power in his tribe that he’s been promised—including killing those who spoke against him, claiming he wasn’t using his position to properly speak for the dead.

And then it all came crashing down around him when Elvanna froze his world, destroying his tribe with it. Keisuke tracked down a hole in time—the same one Nestian and Peanut later used. Keisuke believed he was meant to be the first to go through it, but as it turned out his cousin had beaten him to it. She went through first, and in doing so gained everything he felt should have been his.

I asked Keisuke what he planned to do once he had mythic power—hoping for anything I could grab hold of and cling to that might just give me another chance to talk him into some sort of bargain to release Nestian’s family members.

What he said caused it all to come crashing down around me.

He said he would go back and get the friends he was meant to have. He would get the friends and the mythic power that were denied him in one fell swoop. The time and the place he’d been given represented an extremely brief moment in which his cousin had been killed—disintegrated—and he was going to throw his soul back to that moment and take her place when she was meant to be revived. He would be the one with mythic power. He would be the one with friends. He would be the hero. And his cousin would be nothing but a soul lost in the ether.

I knew then that I would have to call the others in, despite how much I desperately wanted any other outcome. He wouldn’t be dissuaded, this was something he’d been working towards for years—something he felt he was owed by the universe itself. And if he went through with what he wanted, he would be taking the place of some sort of mythic hero, and…I liked Keisuke, but he was no hero. It would be a disaster. I would hardly call myself a hero despite doing arguably heroic things for the others’ sake. But Keisuke wouldn’t even play hero for the sake of people he cared about…I don’t know if he knew how to care about someone like that. He wanted friends for the idea of the friends that he felt he was owed, not for what friends actually are.

If he’d wanted real friends, maybe he’d have actually appreciated how hard I tried to keep things from escalating to the point they did.

Keisuke told me that this ritual would take a while—it could be anywhere from 9 hours to 9 days to 9 months, it was hard to say. But he said he would release Nestian’s mother and the Eidolon to the edge of the Eon Pit once it was complete and he no longer needed them. This is what he considered being nice. It was *almost* a compromise, except when I asked him if they would be unharmed, I could tell that he was lying when he said they would be fine. And anything that would bring harm to Nestian’s family was not an acceptable outcome.

Keisuke wanted to start preparing his ritual, and he was going to have to turn on the Nonagon’s defenses, so it was time for me to leave. He commented that I should let him know next time I’m planning on dropping by, since he’d nearly killed me this time. I laughed it off, reminding him that I am a very difficult man to kill.

At the time his response was foreboding, if not puzzling. He agreed with me that I was, in a tone that felt to me like it implied he’d tried to kill me before and knew from experience I was good at escaping death. But that didn’t fit any part of the story I knew of our forgotten past, and it certainly didn’t fit any part of our meetings that I could actually remember.

It made me all the more certain of what I needed to do—like it or not.

I left the Nonagon and began down the hall, but didn’t walk all the way to the door. Instead, when I felt I was out of range of even Keisuke’s sharp hearing, I activated the Stone of Farspeech and let Aenland know that I’d failed, and that we would have to go with his plan instead.

Aenland actually gave his condolences that things didn’t work out the way I’d hoped, before his voice cut out, and a moment later he and the others burst through the door ahead of me. Nevra cast Haste and then began singing as she and Aenland flew past. Nestian pat me on the shoulder—at least I assume it was Nestian. I had closed my eyes, just breathing, listening to them fly towards battle, the start of Keisuke’s ritual in the distance, and then the familiar sound of the Nonagon’s musical alarm sounding as Keisuke’s recorded voice began singing. I steeled myself as I heard Keisuke yell my name, and that we needed to have a conversation. When I opened my eyes, I knew I would find Talsune and Roscoe waiting for me there. I sent Roscoe ahead, then climbed onto Talsune’s back. I’d steeled myself for what I had to do.

I think Talsune knew what I was feeling well enough to know that no words were going to help. Just then his presence, and his own emotions offsetting mine a little, were more than enough.

Then I heard a yelp from Greta echo down the hall, followed by Keisuke in alarm telling whichever of his minions harmed her not to target her again. He sounded like he was being genuine in his desire not to target me, Talsune, or Greta—or at least his desire to not upset me further by harming the two people he knew I was closest to, and who he probably believed were the most likely to side with me if I suddenly switched sides to fight with him.

I would have been willing to hear him out again. Maybe even give talking one more shot. I would have liked that, really. Except for what happened next.

Keisuke called to me that there was an explanation for what was going to happen next—and then he invoked the name of the Grimm Rider. I heard a far-too familiar voice, followed by the sound of Wail of the Banshee being cast. The flickers of dark magic I could see emanating just beyond the staircase were also far too familiar. Because that was my magic. And my voice. The same voice I’d heard through that recorded scry of the Grimm Rider on Triaxus. The same voice I’d heard when Mirror Edeya had me battle The Grimm Rider in her twisted mirror maze.

Talsune swooped up the stairs and flared his wings so we could stop just before a floor to ceiling rainbow colored barrier around what had been Keisuke’s table, where he’d been standing moments prior. Now as I looked up, it appeared as though Keisuke was towering over us. As if the interior of the Nonagon had been shrunk and flung onto a war map on his table.

I looked to where I had heard my voice, and sure enough, there was yet another imitation of myself in my ‘former glory’. What really caught my eye, however, was the door behind him. Like the others, when I’d looked at them last time I was in the Nonagon, this one was replaying the moment Keisuke had caused me the pain and anguish that would allow him to create a simulacrum of me.

Keisuke was standing before a council of cloaked figures, some wearing Norgorber iconography, some wearing Urgathoan symbols. The man who appeared to be the leader had both of our patron’s markings, and he gestured to me—then a Skeletal Champion—and gave the order for me to kill Baba Yaga and to not come back until I’d succeeded. So I turned and left, to do as I was commanded.

It was exactly as he’d described my banishment from his cult to me before.

And then the thin strings connecting Keisuke to his Flesh Puppet Horde snapped, and everyone else in the room went limp.

…

Quite a while ago now, Keisuke told me about how I’d been sent to kill Baba Yaga by his old cult. An obvious suicide mission, meant to get rid of me. He told me not to worry, he’d killed them all for it. They made excellent flesh puppets. He’d said it as if it were to avenge my inevitable death. As if he’d killed them in anger and vengeance over a lost apprentice.

But, no. I was ‘lost’ because of Keisuke. He had sent me on that suicide mission, he had tried to make sure I get destroyed in an impossible task. This is what he must have been alluding to when he’d agreed that I was a hard man to kill. Because he’d expected Baba Yaga to kill me for whatever attempt I made. He hadn’t expected me to game the system and get myself resurrected, to become her Rider, to gain more power than him. He hadn’t expected me to come back a year later with amnesia and no idea who he was, ready to listen to whatever half-truths he fed me.

I listened to him, kept secrets for him, let him very nearly guide me down a path of being someone just like him, believing for so long that he’d saved my life and that I owed my very existence to him. Just to find out I was nothing but a puppet whose strings he’d already tried to cut once before.

I don’t even know how to describe how I felt in the moment. It’s not like the fury I felt at Rasputin for having caused the death that wiped my memories. It wasn’t like the hatred and disgust I felt for Nazhena. It’s not like the distain and loathing I feel for Queen Elvanna.

I was angry. Oh yes, I was very angry. But there was also this aching sadness that gripped at my heart and made me feel hollow. It drew in the fire of my anger that usually encourages me to reap bloody vengeance on someone who’s wronged me, and left it cold.

I did not enjoy fighting Keisuke. I did not enjoy killing Keisuke. Even if my spells had been what snuffed out his life, I would not have offered this death up to either of our gods. Although I wonder if where he did die has its own House of Murder. Abbadon probably has him regardless.

I’m getting ahead of myself. Probably because I would rather not remember and write the gory details of this fight.

But…there are reasons I probably should continue to write every detail. Not because I think I’ll have amnesia again. I’ll get to that soon. I should quit putting off the rest of this.

When I saw the images from my forgotten past, Keisuke quickly tried to explain them away. He said it was fine, because I’d survived and I was stronger now because of it (true, but that doesn’t make what he did to me fine.) He argued that he could see the future and knew that I’d survive (he can, but he did not.)

I told him as much, that just because he can see the future doesn’t mean he foresaw this. He tried to get rid of me, he sent me to die.

Keisuke said fine, if it was going to be like that. He rescinded his protection for me, Talsune, and Greta. His simulacrums and undead would target us just as much as they would the others. Maybe more, if he was out to ‘teach me a lesson’.

Talsune flew us away from the Prismatic Walls, and we dove at a simulacrum that appeared to be of an aasimar with wings made of fire, holding aloft a holy symbol of the same (illegal) dead goddess Edeya had once been interested in. My partner brought his blade down on the woman wreathed in flames, while I took inspiration from her fire and called down an Ectoplasmic Firestorm, which set almost every one of our enemies—except the Grimm Rider, go figure—on fire.

I decided to try to do a bit more against this echo of my past and quickened a Boneshatter. He resisted enough to not have any major bones snap apart, but I definitely heard the telltale cracking from the spell that told me I’d left him with a few fractures.

Unfortunately, Keisuke decided he was going to try to break my favorite pet. There was an artifact in the first room—an artifact which looked like the strange little chip that I’d seen through the image on the 1st door when I’d been looking last time.

It’s almost funny, how I could have discovered what Keisuke did to me so much earlier if I hadn’t quit looking at the doors when I found Nestian’s dad. If I’d had any inkling that knowing what was behind the other two doors would be important to me, and I’d looked, I would have learned before we ever went to the Eon Pit. Maybe we could have done something about Keisuke without the Nonagon being at full power.

Oh well…too late for what-ifs.

When the artifact activated, it shot a Maximized Fireball right in the middle of Nestian, Greta, Edeya, and Roscoe. Nestian, Edeya, and Greta made it through just fine (I will always be grateful to my past self for thinking of gifting Greta that ring. My only regret would be not just proposing to her already. I’ll have to somehow get her an even better ring when I do.)

Roscoe was not destroyed, but he was badly singed, and Keisuke made it clear that breaking what belonged to me in response to us breaking his things was the goal now. I told him fine, because we were going to break a hell of a lot more of his things than he would of mine.

I would be unhappy if I lost Roscoe for good, though. He’s just objectively better than any other undead we’ve encountered. But I wasn’t going to let Keisuke know that or he’d have redoubled his efforts on destroying him.

I didn’t get much time to think about it, though, because a moment later Keisuke covered the entire room with a Wail of the Banshee. My Wail of the Banshee. He was leeching that spell from the simulacrum of me, it’s not that he was just casting a spell I like to use with his own magic, he was literally using my spell. It was a little strange having someone else (well someone other than The Grimm Rider) throwing around magic identical to mine. Usually spellcasters have their own flair, something about their spell is unique to them, as different as a fingerprint or a snowflake. But, other than whatever he had from being a Shaman I assume, everything he had was pilfered power. His spells didn’t have that consistency, that through-line, they were all someone else’s magic tacked on top of his own.

Talsune and I resisted, but I didn’t have much time to think about that either, because then the angel woman hit me with a Heal spell. I really should have worn the Pallid Crystal. I knew that Keisuke knew that weakness, but I just kind of assumed he didn’t have that kind of magic. He implied as much back when I assumed that he’d resurrected me as opposed to raising me as an undead.

But then again, who knows how true that comment was? Maybe he wanted to keep that particular advantage over me close to his chest. I’ll never know now.

Fortunately, before anyone else could try to kill me (namely myself—or the echo thereof), Edeya was able to get a Harm spell over to me and undid the damage the Heal spell did.

Unfortunately, it would be hard for her to get over to me to do that again if it became necessary, because a moment later Nestian’s mother’s eidolon burst through the door she had been held in. And she was under Keisuke’s command. She immediately went after Nestian—likely because Keisuke knew that would hurt him the worst. I could tell it was going to be a nasty bite—one that would rip and then immediately burn with the electricity crackling across her scales. I threw some raw magical protection between him and the eidolon—not quite the Black Rider’s protection, but an approximation using my own magic. Not as powerful, but strong enough to protect my friends when they needed it if I was nearby. Nestian didn’t have to be the only one taking care of everyone, and always get himself beaten up and bloodied in the process.

Keisuke derisively said that I’ve gone soft—that that’s what this was, he just needed to get rid of the others and I would snap out of it. I destroyed the tracks that train of thought was on immediately. I told him that he was desperately trying to go somewhere else to find the group of friends he was supposed to have—these were mine. So, to torture the metaphor, he changed tracks and decided if I wouldn’t come back to him while alive, then he would just kill me and keep me as an obedient undead again.

Man, at least Rasputin never threatened to keep me as a pet after I rejected him.

Afterwards the Grimm Rider went for me, trying to cast a spell—the casting looked like Destruction—but it struck Vigliv’s protections (something the simulacrum thankfully lacked). He then tried to Quicken a Boneshaker on me, but again hit my defenses. My bones blissfully unshaken. Keisuke said something about how he honestly didn’t expect any differently—the simulacrum was fighting his progenitor, it was only natural that a pale imitation couldn’t live up to the original. I’ll admit to being pleased to hear that, despite Keisuke and I being at each other’s throats right that moment. If nothing else, he still had some respect for my power, even if it was questionable if he had any respect for me.

It was hard to keep track of what was going on around the battlefield. The Prismatic Wall was blocking half the room off, so I couldn’t see what Aenland or Illivor were up to, nor the goblin simulacrum or the reaper that went after them. I did hear Keisuke howl in pain and see one tail get rent apart, so I assumed that one of them had killed one of the two simulacrums back there. Then I got to see one of the simulacra get killed—a woman with goggles and multiple flasks of red reactive looking fluids, who appeared to have been paralyzed by Roscoe, if the bullet holes and lack of attempt to dodge anything that was happening around her were any indication. So, another point for my favorite pet. Peanut finished her off while she couldn’t move…saying something about how ‘being mauled by a bear wasn’t on her list yet’?

When the simulacra died, Keisuke howled in pain again as another one of his tails went up in explosive flames. Solidifying the connection between the clones and his tails for anyone who, unlike me, hadn’t already been directly told by him that they were linked.

In response, Keisuke summoned a new undead into the fray. A fucking Demi-lich. I heard the familiar Wail of the Banshee screams, saw that Greta was in the middle of that once again and remembered how that fucking Demi-lich in my bag had hurt her before. I threw the protection of the Black Rider around her, the screams of the damned parting around the black barrier like a river flowing around a rock. Then I saw Aenland’s arrows absolutely obliterate the damned thing in an instant.

I saw the Grimm Rider take his eyes off me. He was looking where I knew Aenland must be, based on where I saw the arrows shoot from. He pointed, and spoke a single word in Necril laced with power.

Nestian cried out, and threw his own protection of the Black Rider around Aenland—muffling the word that would have otherwise snuffed out his life.

Talsune tore into the angelic woman in front of us, then flapped away so I could focus on casting. I turned the full force of my power on The Grimm Rider. My magic—Power Word Kill, Wail of the Banshee, Destruction, all of it—was far too dangerous to have Keisuke and this echo throwing it around at my loved ones in this fight.

So, I ripped my magic away from him. By ripping out the pale imitation’s heart.

Keisuke noted that we really do learn things from one another. I agreed. I had never claimed otherwise.

Then he said he was going to learn from me and turn that method right back on me, since it worked so well on my simulacrum. I fell right back into step with whatever this dance of words was, reminding him that—in his own words—it was just a pale imitation. I wouldn’t be going down so easily.

‘Oh, we’ll see,’ he threatened.

He used some sort of latent power from the Nonagon to shift the position of the simulacrum of Nestian’s father—which was already badly injured courtesy of Roscoe, who I’d set on him so Nestian wouldn’t have to be the one to slay something that looked like his own father. He moved it so it was next to the dying Grimm Rider. The False-Isaac tried to Regenerate the Grimm Rider’s heart—and he did make it grow back, but in the process the positive energy burned inside of his chest where his heart was regrowing, and he died regardless.

So that was horrific. I don’t particularly want to die in any manner, but I think I just found a top contender for worst ways to be killed. And that’s coming from me. I kill people I hate in horrible ways for fun.

A moment later, Nestian flew across the battlefield and tried to finish off the thing wearing his father’s face. But he hesitated at the last moment, and his swing went wide.

So, it wasn’t Nestian who killed the fake Isaac.

It was Edeya.

She used a Quickened Dimension Door and appeared beside Nestian. She pulled him into a hug, so that his head was turned away as she gently said a few words—and the simulacrum slumped to the ground, falling peacefully dead and into a fine red dust as Edeya used Power Word Kill.

The effect it had on Keisuke was anything but peaceful, as two more of his tails tore apart. A moment later Keisuke howled with rage and pain as another unraveled—right before Aenland flew around the corner on Nevra’s back, soaked in his own blood and covered in cuts and burns, and enough blood coming out of his nose that I worried his brain itself was bleeding.

I called Roscoe over—he circled around to avoid the still dominated Eidolon, and landed near Nevra. Talsune and I flew over to meet them. I cast a Quickened Oracle’s Vessel on Aenland, then cast a Mass Inflict Critical Wounds on myself, Roscoe, and Aenland. It was enough to completely heal my wounds, but Roscoe and Aenland still looked like a stiff breeze might do them in. Fortunately for Aenland, he was near Edeya, and she patched him up with her more potent healing magic.

Then that strange artifact activated again, shooting another maximized Fireball at us. Most of us were fine—except for Roscoe, who looked like he was about to be engulfed in flames and likely meet his end, until Nestian threw his Helm of Teleportation to Roscoe—with an extra kick from his Black Rider powers—sending Roscoe safely back into my bag. Preventing Keisuke from having the pleasure of breaking my ‘toy’, and preventing me from losing my favorite pet. I thanked Nestian profusely later.

At the time Keisuke mocked me for going to so much trouble for a ‘broken bag of bones’, but I pointed out that he was a very useful broken bag of bones. Keisuke conceded the point, noting that after this he might see about getting a Baykok of his own—or taking mine. I told him over my dead body—and he wasn’t doing a very good job of that.

Despite his big words, it was clear that he was in a corner, and he knew it. He only had three tails left—and a moment later that was down to two when Nestian’s aunt, the Eidolon, broke free from Keisuke’s domination, and she and Nestian’s mother fused into one being and began tearing apart the Prismatic Walls. She disrupted the first one by throwing some sort of rounded object into it.

While she worked on that, I asked Edeya if she could identify the strange artifact that kept blasting us—assuming its destruction might help with taking down the walls. Edeya asked Illivor to look, as she was closer. Illivor glanced in, identified multiple Explosive Runes, and threw a Greater Dispel Magic into the room to nullify them all.

With the room now safe, I directed Talsune to get us in there and to smash that chip before Keisuke could activate any other defenses we didn’t know about. My partner did without a word from me, knowing my intention as quickly as it entered my mind. He plucked the small object from its stand—it looked almost like it could be a piece of technology from Numeria. A vision washed over him—and by extension me. Keisuke was somewhere in the mountains of Varisia, in a place piled with gold. He picked up the artifact, and when he did the room rumbled and a booming voice spoke to him. Keisuke fled in terror—but Talsune was a master of his own mind, and didn’t let Keisuke’s terror in the vision seep into him. He closed his fist and crushed the chip.

For the first time, Talsune and I were near one of these objects of Keisuke’s when they were destroyed. All of the suffering contained within that artifact—whatever it had once been—burst forth, trying to engulf myself, Talsune, and unfortunate Illivor who had still been a little too close when we’d swooped in.

We all withstood the onslaught, and as we did Keisuke once again howled in pain and anger and fear as he’s now lost all but one tail. The last one that must have been his original—he wasn’t born a nine-tailed kitsune at all, he’d simply stylized himself as one as he gained power. Not that I can judge him on that, with all I’ve done to style myself differently than the life I was born to. That’s just…ambitions for greatness. I don’t think that by itself is a bad thing. It’s the things he did to reach ‘greatness’ that put us on such different paths.

Destroying the chip also destroyed two more Prismatic Walls—just like I’d predicted. Nestian’s mother had already knocked down one wall, and Aenland did…something. It’s hard to say what. I know he used the luck blade, and I know it worked. But I think he might have toyed with time or something? Because on the one hand I feel like I remember the wall starting with nine layers—which fits, because Keisuke. But at the same time I feel like I remember only seven layers when I came up the stairs. And we only ended up destroying seven layers in total.

Anyways, I turned around and took out a diamond from my bag, and cast a Miracle through it. Out of the faceted sides of the diamond, the different spells needed to take down a Prismatic Wall were cast all at once—burning a bunch of scrolls we had on our person as payment in the process. When the diamond crumbled away, that was one less wall. Nestian’s mother cast a spell—I have no idea what she cast, if I didn’t know any better I’d say it was modified through an object like my pocket watch, because the spell didn’t fit any spell I know of. Maybe it was specific to her universe—although I don’t think I’ve ever seen Keisuke use magic that wasn’t in some way recognizable on Golarian.

What she did was…well, it looked like the threw the wall into space. That is the best way I can describe it, even though we were in a Demiplane and the concept of space in a place not directly connected to the material plane is a bit nebulous. Regardless of how she did it, it did get rid of another wall.

And I think Keisuke panicked as we were ripping straight through his defenses to reach him.

He used his luck blade twice to cast a non-existent spell—Mass Harm. I wish there was a Mass Harm, that would be really convenient for me. I guess I could apparently use Miracle to make a Mass Harm, but then I’d need a diamond for it every time and at that point I might as well just let someone die and resurrect them.

…My life is very strange that ‘Mass Harm’ would be more likely to be used for mass healing than for actually ‘harming’ anyone. If I wanted to harm a bunch of people I’d just use Wail of the Banshee, or Massacre, or Fire Storm, or Horrid Wilting…you get my point. I have a lot of ways to kill a lot of people at once. My best way to heal a lot of people at once is significantly weaker than Harm.

The final diamond of his Luck Blade he used to try to force his ritual to successfully complete early.

And it worked.

The Nonagon vanished, nothing but the room the blank simulacrum had been in was left. Only the blank simulacrum standing in the replica of some spymaster’s safehouse was now replaced by a silver haired woman, the remains of a green ray hitting her chest, and her body turning to dust. This was no longer the replica of the room, or the simulacrum. It was the time and the place that Keisuke was trying to fling himself into.

And Keisuke was running down a long hall towards it. We ran after him.

Edeya and Illivor acted first, our resident witches always the smart ones. They both stripped away his defenses with as many uses of Greater Dispel Magic as they could throw in the blink of an eye.

Talsune dove forward. He knew I wanted to reach Keisuke first. I let go of Talsune, trusting him to hold me aloft, as I pulled out the pocket watch. The pocket watch that once belonged to Keisuke, but which I pulled from the Eon Pit and have made my own. I channeled Slay Living through it, and even as Talsune’s blade skewered him, my touch was gentle. I was not aiming for a horrific death. Not this time.

The ritual seemed to have a strange effect on Keisuke’s personal time. The injuries were there, but formed across his body so painfully slowly. The dark flames of Slay Living that normally devoured a body in seconds instead danced across his red-stained white fur for what felt like an eternity.

I knew I couldn’t let him escape—not when I had no idea what might be at stake if he replaced his cousin as one of these mythic ‘heroes’. So I quickened an inflict critical wounds, remembering that he’d once mentioned he didn’t have my gift. The black and purple flames joined and intermixed with the almost ebony flames of Slay Living, twisting together in a dance of death and decay.

Keisuke looked over his shoulder at me. For once I don’t know what emotion I was reading in his eyes. Hate? Fear? Disappointment? Anger? Resignation? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

I told him I was sorry, that I wished this could have ended differently.

It wasn’t a lie. Despite everything, despite how much he hurt me, despite knowing how much he lied, despite all the things he said during this fight…I still didn’t want to kill him. That anger at him was a pile of barely glowing coals and ash by this point, seeing him like this. I couldn’t find it in myself to reach for that burning indignation and thirst for retribution that normally comes so naturally to me.

I don’t know what I wanted to do instead. I don’t think I had any realistic vision of another way forward until I talked to Greta later. I just know that despite everything, it tore at my heart to kill this man.

The others joined in my attack, equally unwilling to risk his escape despite not truly knowing the extent of the consequences like I did. I hadn’t had a chance to tell them what Keisuke told me. All they knew was that he was getting away, and that he’d completed some sort of ritual. They had no idea the full implications of what he was about to do.

For once, I suppose, it was fortunate that Aenland and Nestian were not going to hesitate to attack Keisuke.

Greta was the first to follow up on Talsune’s attack, however. When she pulled away from the strange time anomaly happening around Keisuke, she laid a hand over mine—still white knuckle clutching the pocket watch like a lifeline. No words needed—she was there for me, and she knew that this had not come easily to me unlike most deaths we’d caused. That was more than enough.

The others did what had to be done, with Nevra, Aenland, and Nestian finishing the job in quick succession. Time around Keisuke seemed to start to catch up to him, and I was sure that was the end of it.

But then his form flickered, the familiar displaced from time effect of a Temporal Status overtaking him before the spreading damage could snuff out his life entirely. I recognized a Contingency spell when I saw one—even if I don’t remember the time I saved myself from death by similar means.

However while he was frozen in time, the woman behind him finished dissolved into nothing but a fine dust, and the image of that other place faded away. He’d missed the time. The ritual was over. But with one final push Keisuke popped out of Temporal Stasis, alive but weakened, and stepped through that distorted point of reality into…somewhere else. He looked exhausted. Weak. I don’t think he had a single drop of magic left in him. He swore he would start from the bottom, and build his power up from scratch if that’s what it took. And then he’d come back for us. For me. To avenge himself of everything we’d just taken from him.

He never got a chance…he’ll never get the chance.

Keisuke was so focused on us through the rift in time and space that he didn’t see the man standing behind him. He’d stepped into what looked like some sort of golden casino, and behind him was a finely dressed man. Wielding a flaming glaive. The last I saw of Keisuke was a look of surprise as that glaive cut him down. The man muttered something about the number of temporal anomalies crossing through lately, before the portal snapped shut.

Keisuke’s body was left bleeding out and already dead in some other universe, out of reach.

There wasn’t time to think about it, as the entire Nonagon began to shake. I remembered that early in our fight Keisuke had told us that if we killed him, the Nonagon would break down and take us with it. I’d said then that I’d need to have a Plane Shift ready for when that happened. And I did…and as luck would have it, once Illivor returned to her fox form and her bond with Edeya reinstated itself, there were nine of us.

Because of course there were.

So I cast the spell through the pocket watch. I brought this to a close in a perfect circle, as I used the tool that once belonged to this man who caused so much death and hurt for my friend, and his family, and the people around them, and this time used it to save us all from his own crumbling Demiplane.

I took us to the safest place I could think of in the moment. Home. Grimm Labyrinthus. My own Demiplane. Maybe not as technically intricate as the Nonagon had been. Certainly not built siphoning power from the Eon Pit. But it is mine. Ours. And it is perfect.

I was more drained emotionally than physically when we arrived. I’d honestly not used that many spells, and I wasn’t that badly hurt—although I would need to expend quite a bit of negative energy later to patch Roscoe up. But in the moment, I was just…tired. And sad. And I wasn’t even entirely sure why I was sad. Was it because I’d found out that Keisuke had been lying the entire time, or because I was mourning that we had to kill him? The fact I’d been right, in a way, that what he needed were friends like the ones I’d had? Only he was too blinded by his own desires and obsessions to see it. Some strange mesh of all of these things?

I called Edeya, Aenland, and Nestian over, and just hugged them. I felt like I might pass out, but I held it together (although Nestian’s fur was very cozy). I don’t know what I was trying to say, really.

No. No, that’s a lie, I do know.

I just…wanted them to know I care. That they mean more to me than I can express. That…I’m grateful to have known them, because if I hadn’t I may well have stood with Keisuke today and let something terrible happen, for the sake of power, and for the sake of a friend who wanted nothing more than to erase anything we might have had, believing there was something more out there just for him.

I still can’t bring myself to be mad. I think I kind of pity him. I think I see a very dark mirror when I look at everything he did, and would have done. Not of the Grimm Rider, not this time. But of who I could have been without the others. All that power and no one to care about, to give me a reason to choose something more important than reaching endlessly for more power. No Aenland to call me out when I go too far, or lie to his face, or choose a path that scares him because he knows it ends in self-destruction. No Nestian to…quite frankly not want to disappoint. I’m more afraid of doing something that disappoints Nestian than something that makes him angry. I know I can handle an angry bear in my face. I can’t handle his soft-spoken disappointment. And no Edeya, my fellow Irriseni, my fellow spellcaster. She was the one I felt I had so much in common with when we first started, my confidant when I didn’t trust Aenland and Nestian with my secrets, and look how much she’s changed. She’s learned to be decisive, but she’s also so kind, and so gentle. And…I respect that about her. I could never…would never…limit myself the way she does. Yet she’s decided to do what she feels is the right thing to do, unabashedly, regardless of any jokes we make about her unusual take on pacifism. And she has still found a way to be an amazing witch even with her self-imposed limitations. I think…she’s set a really good example for me.

And, of course, there’s Greta. I don’t think, even with the other three, anything would have changed without Greta giving me that first nudge in the right direction. Being honest with her back in Whitethrone right before we fought Logrivich was one of the hardest, most terrifying things I have ever done. And it was the best decision of my life.

I know Nestian believes Keisuke and I are fundamentally different, but I think he just had the good fortune to have seen me at my best instead of at my worst. Even early on, before I liked or trusted the others, I still knew we were in this together and that I needed to at least act within a range of what they’d consider decent to keep this alliance we’d agreed to in Baba Yaga’s name running smoothly. But I also know for a fact I killed at least a few people in our early fights that Nestian wanted to spare, just because I saw no point in showing mercy to people who might come back and cause problems later. I think I would make a different decision now—I would respect Nestian’s wishes and his logic more than I did back then. I am sure I would still point out that keeping enemies alive might cause us more trouble in the long run—we have to take everything into consideration—but if in this theoretical situation Nestian understood that potential consequence and still wanted to be merciful, I would at the very least do my best to spare them for his sake. Although at this point I think Edeya is the one more likely to be the first to suggest nonviolent means.

Nestian and Edeya went off to make lunch to lighten the mood a bit and give me some time to process things. Aenland lingered for a moment. We talked. He said he’d give me space if I needed it, but he was here for me. He called me his brother. I thanked him to sticking by me, even though I’d been a bit of an ass to him early on. He said he could easily say the same to me. But what’s family for? I agreed, clasping his hand.

Just what I need, to go from being an only child to having a younger brother who is also over a hundred years older than me.

Afterwards I retreated with Greta to our room. I just laid there with her for a long time, in comfortable quiet. After a while I talked to her about how I didn’t even know why I was so upset, because logically I knew Keisuke had been a terrible person who hurt Nestian and his family, and was honestly kind of awful to everyone else around me. We talked a little about how I felt he was like that because he hadn’t had the same fortune I had, to have people around him who loved him enough to stop him. Then Greta said something that set the wheels spinning in my head, about how if I really wanted to give him a second chance, there was always Baba Yaga’s wish. At first it seemed like an immediate dead end—the others wouldn’t be ok with me bringing Keisuke back after everything he’d done and everything that had happened. But Greta pointed something else out. What if he got a fresh start when he came back. Like I had.

And she was absolutely right. If the Grimm Rider had come back like I’d planned when I’d convinced Rasputin to kill me in Taldor with a contingency spell in place, then I wouldn’t be who I am today. The Grimm Rider wouldn’t have teamed up with the others—or if he did it wouldn’t have been as equals. It took me starting over and rediscovering my power alongside my friends to become more than I was.

…

…I’m going to be giving up a lot if I go through with this. If I don’t take this opportunity for Mythic Power, another one probably won’t ever show itself. Keisuke’s ritual was to shunt his soul through time and puppet another person’s body and use their mythic power, rather than having a mythic ascension of his own, so I learned more about how not to get Mythic Power from him than how to get it.

And if I don’t get mythic power, it’s unlikely that I will find a means of immortality. Lichdom was a bust, and whatever Keisuke had going on with that artifact can’t be replicated since we broke it.

There’s no guarantee it’ll even work. I might bring Keisuke back, try to do right by him, and he’ll still turn out as a manipulative murderous bastard…well, more of a manipulative murderous bastard than I am. Then what? If he just goes right back to hurting my friends again, do I have to put him down a second time? If I bring him back I’ll be shouldering the responsibility for what he does.

Ugh. Responsibility is not something I have ever gone looking for. That’s why I told Greta I was never going to try to take over the world or even a country, regardless of how much power I get. Once you have it, what then? You have to manage running a country (or every country), that’s what. Sounds awful.

…

It’s so obvious that one of these things has so many more guaranteed upsides than the other, and one of these things had so many more unknown variables and could just blow up in my face all over again. And for once it’s not Mythic Power that’s the iffy option.

So why in the Nine Hells am I actually considering this?

…

I know why.

I had this chance. I wouldn’t be who I am today without this chance. I wouldn’t have everything I have today without this chance. Sure—I’d have the Grimm Rider’s power still. But what else would I have? Maybe I’d have made an empty demiplane with nothing but undead to lord over, just like Keisuke. Hell, for all I know the Grimm Rider did have a demiplane I simply don’t remember that will remain abandoned forever now. But beyond that, I’d have had nothing. Power, a wish from Baba Yaga, and isolation—because like Baba Yaga said, there was only one person that Calio Caecos trusted. Himself. I have so much more than the Grimm Rider ever did—I had to lose everything to get it, but now I am so much more than I was before.

I want Keisuke to have that same chance. Even if he turns around and screws me over again…at least I could say I tried. At least I could say he actually had that chance, and if it goes wrong again this time it’s all on him.

…I’m going to want some more time to think this through. Not to talk myself out of it, per-se. More…because I’m emotional right now. I am feeling about a dozen things at once, and it’s hard for any one feeling to come to the forefront at any given moment. I feel a whirlwind of emotions and a hollow empty place at the same time. It’s…a lot. I’m not going to make such a big decision like this while I’m in this headspace. Better to wait out the storm. We probably still have…what, a few more days before we kill Queen Elvanna? That…won’t be enough time to get over it, but it should be enough time for me to get my head on straight enough to really think this decision through.

Speaking of wishes, I finally had an opportunity to tell Greta about Baba Yaga’s offer of a second wish—one that had to go to someone else. Obviously, Greta was my first choice from the moment our kindly grandmother told me it couldn’t be for myself. I think ‘whatever your heart desires’ is a pretty good gift. Maybe a little behind ‘a ring that protects against fire’. But what can I do? You don’t outdo the classics.

Afterwards we decided to go back to the dining hall to see what Nestian had made for everyone.

Unfortunately, this extremely long day was quite literally only just beginning (Greta told me not to look at the clock so I just know in my heart what time it was.) While I was having a delicious meal with my family after a fucking awful day, my emotional state finally approaching an approximation of stable after Greta and my talk, I got a sending. From A’pul’a, that weird mythic plant person we met in the sewers who has technically killed Illivor twice now.

They apparently forgot to tell us something important. We needed to go to the royal cemetery immediately. Because someone was trying to create a new Crone Queen. And they asked me specifically not to ruffle the feathers of their bird friend—because he’s a Pharasman.

We’re home. We’re resting now. Tomorrow we’re going to the Nonagon so it’s not like I’m getting any sleep tonight. So might as well write it all down, because I sure as shit won’t be in the mood to write about this tomorrow.

So after we got back from Ioberia and had a little downtime to plan and to fill Greta in, we made for the Water Palace. The plan was to get in playing the part of regular upperclass citizens again, like we did at the library. Aenland would stay outside with Nevra and Talsune on the roof of the building across from the bathhouse and wait for my signal to attack. In the meantime, the rest of us would get inside and do some scouting and setting up undetected.

We made it to the Water Palace with absolutely no hassle. By this point the patrols have become so few and far between that they’re generally easy to avoid, not to mention the lack of killer clowns and time dragons popping up. We did still have to avoid the encroaching fungal infestation Xanthadon’s left in her wake, but we didn’t end up face-to-face with any of those creepy archers or any other twisted…fungal thing. So I’d say we did a pretty good job.

At the Water Palace, I took the lead talking to the hostess. She directed us to the changing rooms and the tubs. So we got changed and stashed away my Bag of Holding in the provided lockers. All of our weapons, armor, and supplies were tucked safely within the bag. I stored my component pouch separately in the same locker—just incase someone other than us got the bright idea to steal my bag.

I don’t think poor Edeya quite knew what to do with herself with everyone else declothed. Nestian and Greta certainly weren’t shy about it—and why should they be? For one thing, they’re a bear and a winter wolf respectively when not in human form, so it’s not like nudity is exactly a thing they would have to worry about around others in their other forms. For another, let’s be real, we are a very good-looking group of people. Why be bashful about what you have?

Perhaps to spare dear Edeya, we split up with me and Nestian circling around the tubs in one direction, and Greta and Edeya scouting around the other. We didn’t really discuss it ahead of time, we just kind of ended up splitting up that way on our own.

Nestian and I made our way up the stairs, past the chilled tub. Towering above us was what, at a glance, appeared to be a statue. But it didn’t take long for me to identify it as a living creature—an ice yai oni, standing still as a statue. Keeping watch.

There was a second one on the opposite side of the warm water tub ahead of us. And standing, posted gloriously on the ledge into the hot water bath, was that appeared to be a dragon made entirely of water, with a waterfall pouring from its mouth, constantly refilling the tubs with fresh water. At the time it, too, appeared to be a statue—and unlike the Onis I didn’t see anything that indicated otherwise, nor did I personally know of any dragons like this. I asked Talsune mentally if he knew, but his response was a resounding shrug, he'd never seen this particular type of dragon before either if it existed at all on Triaxus.

Nestian nudged me, and said there was something written in Skald in the water near the back wall of the warm tub. I looked, and sure enough there it was—difficult to see with all the water in the way, but now that it was pointed out I could make out that it was labelled as a VIP room. Nestian and I theorized that this was likely where the Crone Queen was holed up. After all we’d already found one Crone Queen in a VIP lounge in a bar, why not one in a bathhouse as well?

We waded into the warm pool and motioned for the other two to join us. We moved as far out of the Onis’ earshot as we could, and told them what we’d found. We discussed our options, and came up with a plan. Edeya and I would try to sneak in and scout ahead, while Nestian would get a head start and go to grab the Bag of Holding and my spell components. Once we were ready to kick things off, I would signal to Aenland, and Edeya would teleport Nestian to us with her newly refreshed Bracelet of Friends. Greta would just have to burst through the door, but by that point stealth would no longer be in the cards anyways.

So Edeya and I waited for a few minutes, making sure we gave Nestian plenty of time to get back to the changing room and to collect our bags, before Edeya slowly eased open the door.

I could have sworn she was perfectly silent about it, but perhaps the sounds of the bathhouse itself coming through the doorway alerted those within the chamber, because a whispery hissing voice from one corner of the room said that there were uninvited guests.

Within the room was another pool, this one monstrously deep, the bottom pitch black and obscured in darkness. A Crone Queen and an elven man were in the pool, as was that horror I mentioned at the start of this entry, the one with tentacles and multiple wolf heads. In each corner of the room was an upsettingly large spider, about the size of an elephant if the size of my twin Rajput Ambaris are any indication. And apparently the elephant-spiders could also talk, because it was one of them that had heads the door open.

Edeya immediately closed the door. Good call. A little too late, unfortunately. But a good call, none-the-less.

Then there was a deep low voice that rumbled the entire building and shook through my bones. Because I had Tongues up I could understand the speech—although something about the magnitude and slow uncaring pace of its speech gave me a cold feeling in my gut that whatever was speaking was unspeakably big and equally old. It only spoke one word—slow and drawn out. ‘Intruders’. The word echoed out from somewhere deep below us.

And that’s all that was needed for everything to go to hell.

The two onis and the water dragon all quit their statue act and went on the offensive. And it turned out all the staff were warriors with a skillset adjacent to Cesseer’s. Except for the head of the house, who was a sorcerer with draconic power. Been a while since we’ve seen that. The woman who stabbed me in Radosek’s tower if I remember right? Yeah she was a bitch to fight, too.

Well, okay unless we count every single sorcerer we fought on Triaxus, but that was Triaxus, everything is dragons there.

The two onis towered above us, one stabbing me as she charged in, the other swinging her blade around and catching me, Edeya, and Greta all. Then one of the monks swung around and tried to kill Greta in a single hit with her Quivering Palm technique—but Greta’s stronger than that and she resisted her attempt to stop her heart.

Which just meant I was going to have to stop the monk’s heart instead.

With that, I nudged open the door to the VIP chamber. I called to Aenland over the Stone of Farspeech that this was his cue, then I called down a Fire Storm on every living thing that wasn’t a fleeing aristocrat, in both rooms.

Much to my displeasure, with so much water around the sorcerer was the only one who got caught alight for any amount of time, but it was still worth it. From the look of the gash on the oni’s leg, the fire also stopped their regeneration. So, no more dealing with that. We had enough of that with Kostchtchie.

Without my spell components, I couldn’t throw a second spell at the monk—who had frustratingly dodged all of the flames. So instead I tried to Banish the oni that had stabbed me. To equally minimal effect. She laughed at me, saying a puny human couldn’t send her home! I’m indignant thinking about it.

Unfortunately, without my Bone Armor or my Belt of Physical Perfection, I have to admit I was not at my best. My only protection was Vigliv’s boon, a Ring of Protection I’d thankfully had the sense to nab off one of the anti-paladins we’d fought earlier that day, and my Amulet of Natural Armor. I felt sluggish and my stamina was flagging fast—along with the loss of much of my blood. I knew that my best hope was for Edeya to bring Nestian to us with her bracelet immediately.

Or so I thought.

Apparently Nestian had heard that booming noise, and had taken it upon himself to reach us—because a moment after that oni stabbed me, a familiar bear came barreling over the edge of the tub, and with the power of his Boots of Speed positively flew across the water to our side, his axe putting a respectable cut through the leg of the oni as he went.

Nestian offered up the Bag of Holding, and I quickly nabbed my necessities. Headband, belt, spell components, and pocket watch. I could live without the rest…or at least I sure hoped so, because I didn’t have time to dig out the cassock and throw it on right that moment. I could call on the Bone Armor as any time, but at least with the belt and headband I was no longer tired and sluggish, and I could feel a deeper connection to my magic that had waned without the headband and its effects on my natural charisma.

I didn’t get to savor the feeling of power for long, when the water dragon looked straight down and breathed boiling steam on us. I was already battered and bleeding, and now I was burning alive on top of that. I desperately needed some negative energy to patch myself up. And we were not in the best position for spellcasting.

I felt, rather than saw, that Talsune, Nevra, and Aenland Dimension Doored into the room with the Crone Queen behind me. I heard that water creature howling in the other room, and then fall silent, and recognized the feeling in my mind of Talsune finishing off a foe. He doesn’t get the same almost giddy satisfaction I get from killing our enemies. His is somehow both a much calmer and much fiercer satisfaction—that of a warrior who has felled a vicious foe in the heat of battle.

I also heard Nevra begin singing, and the Crone Queen yell—and then heard as that yell was cut short. I’m going to assume that was Aenland’s doing, if Talsune’s claws were full with that sea monster. And then it sounded like Aenland was arguing with someone?

I didn’t really have time to focus on any of that while I was trying to not die, obviously. It was more just what I noticed in the back of my mind since my back was to the door where they were. I had ducked back towards the doorway and with my guard up I cast Harm on myself, the icy cold of the negative energy revitalizing me and stitching the worst of my wounds closed. Hearing the fighting in the other room—and not having much room for him with me, Nestian, Edeya, and Greta practically fighting back-to-back—I pulled Roscoe from the Bag of Holding and sent him to help Talsune and Aenland. A moment later I heard the echoing bang of his gun firing.

There wasn’t much I could do about the onis right that moment, so I turned my attention to that attendant who’d tried to kill Greta. I quickened a Boneshaker, and grabbed hold of her skeleton, forcing her to her knees, and then pulling her head under the water.

She never came back up.

It was almost that same instance that I felt genuine fear from Talsune, and through our bond he told me that there was some sort of Irriseni Leviathan in the pool, and it just ate Aenland and dove back into the depths.

I told the others, thinking we would have to try to figure out some way to save him. Instead, Nestian took the news in stride, and told me to trust him—he had a way to get Aenland out.

I put my faith in Nestian, and turned my attention to the water dragon, which had just thrown itself down from the platform above us and was now baring down on us from the opposite side as the onis.

But now it had unwittingly put itself into a vulnerable position.

I cast Horrid Wilting on everything around the Water Dragon, sucking the moisture from the dragon and the onis. The dragon in particular looked like its form wasn’t holding together so well after that.

While I kept the dragon occupied, Nestian made use of his own Bracelet of Friends, teleporting Aenland from the literal belly of the beast and into a more metaphorical one with onis and dragons.

After he appeared, the sorcerer made her move. I’d honestly mostly forgotten about it after setting her on fire, but apparently she’d been lurking around the edges of the tubs, just waiting for the opportunity to strike. And strike she did: I heard her speak a single word as she cast a spell and tried to snuff out Aenland’s life in an instant. However death wouldn’t have Aenland again—Nestian made sure of it, throwing the protection of the Black Rider around him and causing the Power Word Kill to fall on deaf ears.

Aenland immediately repaid the favor by slaying both the dragon and the sorcerer, his arrows a deadly rain.

The nearest oni—the one that had stabbed me prior—tried to reposition herself so she was where the dragon had fallen, in an attempt to flank us with her twin oni. Aenland and Nestian both took advantage of her dropping her guard and laid into her.

And unfortunately for that oni, she found herself standing facing Greta when she swung around to where she thought she wanted to be. A few axe swings and a particularly brutal bite later, and we were down one oni.

Have I mentioned that I love that woman? It’s one thing that Nestian can take down enemies with a bite as a bear—you expect a bear to be able to rip someone’s throat out with their teeth. Greta can do it even in her human form, and no one ever sees that one coming.

Also, if anyone saw Greta naked and covered in another person’s blood and didn’t find it at least a little hot, there’s definitely something wrong there.

Now that I got a good look at Aenland, I could see why the sorcerer had aimed her Power Word Kill at him—he looked like he was on his last legs. Worried that the final oni might still be able to take him down, I pulled him away and quickened an Oracle’s Vessel on him, followed by a Harm to close up the worst of his wounds. I doubt it’s as pleasant for him as Edeya’s healing—just like positive energy still made me feel a little squirmy the one time I used the Pallid Crystal—but better that than dying.

The other oni didn’t last much longer than her twin—Nevra had Dimension Doored herself and Talsune out of the Leviathan deathtrap room and they’d appeared right behind the other oni. And Talsune made short work of her.

Roscoe was conspicuously absent—and the sound of gunfire still occasionally sounded from the room behind me. Considering how long Roscoe lasted by himself in Abbadon, I wasn’t too worried about him against a bunch of spiders, and I didn’t think it was likely the Leviathan would try to eat a Baykok, assuming he’d even remained low enough to the ground to be snapped up.

Nestian charged past me—despite the fact I could see that there was more blood coating his fur than was probably left in his body. Edeya ran after him, saying not to worry and that she’d heal him. Nevra swooped around and grabbed Aenland before flying through the door. Talsune and I quickly followed suit.

I took stock of the room, which I’d only seen for a moment through the cracked door or through flashes of Talsune’s perspective. There was a paralyzed spider in the corner nearest the door, courtesy of Roscoe—the same one that had spotted us when Edeya opened the door, and which Nevra silenced once and for all. Another in the back corner had arrows sticking from it in the telltale signs that Aenland has just released half a dozen shots. The elven man and the Crone Queen also lay dead by the pool, also peppered with arrows. Nestian was fighting the last spider, with Edeya behind him. His fur was still coated in blood, but he looked much healthier, his eyes sharper, not dulled by pain. So Edeya had clearly already worked her magic.

Aenland finished off that final spider as well. Just in time for the Leviathan to resurface, and once again leap just out of the water enough to nab the elf from atop Nevra. Through the Stone of Farspeech, Aenland told me not to let Edeya use her Bracelet of Friends to pull him out until the thing was dead. I passed on the message.

Talsune flew us down, ramming his sword into the Leviathan. Despite the great beasts I’ve seen my partner take out, to the Leviathan that might as well have been a papercut. I channeled my magic through the Pocket Watch and used the same trick I’d used on the svathurim earlier that same day. I overcharged a Slay Living, making it so it would be nine times as powerful if the gargantuan creature resisted the spell.

As predicted, the great beast’s resistance was formidable—and that allowed the watch to work its magic. Inky black flames licked at the Leviathan, decaying and burning wherever it touched. It certainly didn’t kill it, but the beast definitely felt that one. There was an angry putrefied burn across its back and side where the black flames raged across its blubbery flesh before going out. The flames weren’t hot enough to melt the icicle spines that coated its back, but the bright white of the ice was a stark contrast to the dark decaying flesh that now surrounded it.

I attempted to follow that up with a Boneshatter, but the beast was onto my tricks now, and it shrugged off my magic.

Before it could fully submerge itself and flee to the depths with its meal, Nestian dug his axe into the massive whale-like titan with one final swing.

Aenland crawled out of the Leviathan’s now loosely gaping maw as the unimaginably massive body sunk down below the water’s surface, and then vanished into the darkness.

As we gathered up anything that might be useful and licked our wounds, we discussed what next. There was supposed to be a gateway to the Dancing Hut in this room, somewhere. We decided while we were here we should try to figure it out.

Nestian borrowed Aenland’s goggles and dove beneath the surface of the pool, swimming deeper and deeper, until he, too, vanished into the dark. He came back a few moments later, and explained that there was a glyph in the side of the pool, which could be used to dispel the darkness, which would also make the pool magic. Using the pool for an hour while this was active could rejuvenate us, in the same way certain powerful clerical spells could. The glyph could also be used to teleport into the Dancing Hut. However, Nestian didn’t know how to activate the glyph. He believed that I should take a look at it later, next time we come back. I’m inclined to agree. I didn’t really fancy a trip all the way to the Dancing Hut if the activation didn’t go off without a hitch first try. If it was made by anyone other than Baba Yaga I’d feel confident I could do it no problem, but our kindly grandmother’s magical creations have proven tricky in the past.

Also Nestian did not find the body of the Leviathan down there, which admittedly has me slightly concerned. I’m hoping it just means it was either summoned here, or it was taken back to the Dancing Hut after we slayed it. What I’m worried about is, if it was put there by Baba Yaga, what if it’s like many of the creatures in the Hut, which would return to life and continue doing their designated guard duty or puzzle or what-have-you after a certain amount of time passed? I don’t want to fight that thing again. That pool is not worth it.

When we were finished, we decided to teleport directly back to the Clocktower, to avoid being seen coming and going too often.

Aenland headed out with Nevra when the sun was setting, off to find the Night Monarch and save Xanthadon’s soul.

I hope she is actually salvageable, when all is said and done. Aenland did a shitload to try to save her, he’s really put a lot of himself into this. And Xanthadon’s kind of…crazy. She didn’t ever once think Aenland wouldn’t be okay with her whole using dead elves for a fungal army thing? And I mean, yeah, she didn’t choose to serve a Demon Lord, but she’s sure as fuck embraced it. What if there’s nothing left of her, when he pulls away all the demons and plots and trauma? I’m worried how he’ll take that, if that does happen.

Not like I’m one to talk. I’ve been keeping this shaky peace between the others and Keisuke, and I’ve probably stretched it as far as it will go. I know he isn’t a good person, and I know the others have very good reason to hate him. I just…hope he will listen, so that hopefully the others never have to interact with him again, and it never comes to a fight.

Is that naïve of me? To just this one time not want to fight? Nestian and Edeya have both had situations in which they’ve faced a problem and decided they wanted to solve it without killing. I know when we first met I thought they—especially Nestian—were weak and foolish for looking for way to avoid killing their problems. But…just this once can I have that too?

…

It’s just on my mind, because I know we’re going there tomorrow.

Anyways, while Aenland and Nevra were both safely out of potential eavesdropping range, I pulled Nestian aside for a talk. See…after we beat Kostchtchie we’d had a little conversation. It was just a passing thing at the time, but it bothered me. We were talking about how we’d just killed a Demon Lord (former Demon Lord, whatever), and I said it was good practice for going after Treerazor next. And Aenland said it was good practice for him. So I said something about how, obviously we were coming along. And Aenland said it was a Kyonin problem, it was none of our concern. And I snapped at him slightly saying it was his problem, so it was our concern. Nestian steered us onto another subject before it could become an all-out argument.

But I went back and talked to Aenland later, told him that he was being ridiculous if he thought we wouldn’t come and help him face a nascent Demon Lord. He had better chances of winning—and surviving—if he had us with him. Aenland at first argued that we all had our own lives to live that didn’t revolve around each other’s problems. I told him all I planned to do after this was travel. So I’d travel to Kyonin and fight Treerazor with him of my own volition if I had to. He said something about me dying and leaving Greta waiting for me, to which I told him he’s daft if he thinks Greta wouldn’t be right there with me. Which only made him double down because then he was arguing that we were both going to get ourselves killed. So I told him, what the hell? We just beat a former Demon Lord. Treerazor isn’t even an actual Demon Lord! And we’re only going to get more powerful going forward, not less. I, for one, intend to get Mythic Power from my wish from Baba Yaga, so I know I’m going to be plenty capable to handling myself thank-you-very-much.

So then Aenland finally fucking laid it out, what his actual problem was. He already lost two family members to Treerazor. He didn’t want to see that happen again.

And just, fuck, how are you supposed to respond to that? Because I still know I’m right. He’s going to get himself killed going and doing this without us. He needs us there. But he doesn’t trust us enough to believe we can hold our own in a fight, and maybe even know when to pull back if things actually are too nasty. Even after all this time together. He just projects his trauma onto us instead of trusting us. So what am I supposed to say to that? Because he’s not listening to any of my perfectly sound arguments!

So I told him, fine. I don’t agree with you, but I’ll drop it for now.

And that brings me to Nestian. Because I don’t know how in the Nine Hells to handle Aenland when he gets emotional and up in all in his own head. But Nestian is good at dealing with him. So I went to Nestian and laid out pretty much everything I just wrote above.

Nestian told me to approach it from a different angle. That next time it comes up, I should talk to Aenland about how being left behind will make us feel rather than trying to approach him with hard logic. Remind him how he felt when he lost his family, and let him know that’s how we would feel if he ran off to do this on his own and died without us being there to help him. The guilt, blaming yourself for not being able to save him.

I can’t say Nestian’s picture rings entirely true, however. If he went out and got himself killed, I wouldn’t feel like it was my fault he died. That’s ridiculous. I’d feel like it was his fault he died and like he’s an idiot. And I would miss that stupid idiot.

As I was thanking Nestian for his insight and making to take my leave, Nestian mentioned something about how I should get some rest because we’d be venturing into the Dancing Hut to find Anastasia tomorrow. This gave me pause. I asked him if he was sure that’s what he wanted to do next—after all, we hadn’t found his mother while fixing the Eon Pit, and her Eidolon was still with Keisuke. I’d figured he’d want that to be our top priority.

He stopped and I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as everything clicked into place. He immediately sounded worried and agreed that we should pay Keisuke a visit in the morning to rescue his mother, who he felt was probably in even more danger now that the Nonagon was back in working order. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I know I’m going to do my best to convince Keisuke to release them into my care, and hopefully avoid a confrontation.

Nestian asked me why I cared so much about Keisuke, really—feeling that my prior explanation that I owed him my life did not really cover it at this point. And he’s right, it doesn’t. I haven’t thought about things with Keisuke in relation to him having raised me from the dead in a long time.

I told Nestian the truth. At least the truth in the best way I could articulate it. How I feel about Keisuke has been…complicated, for a while now. I don’t know that even I, skilled as I am at speaking my mind, could really get it across properly. But I told him the most accurate truth I could. I told him that if we’d met at any other point in time besides when we did—be it me without my memories or as the Grimm Rider—if we hadn’t travelled together and gotten to know each other, they would have all wanted to kill me just as much as they want to kill Keisuke. At the very least I don’t doubt Aenland would—he shot Keisuke for a single wrong word at the wrong time the first time we met, before we really knew anything about him except that he was a necromancer and someone from my past. I was only different in their eyes because of them—both because they know me now, but also because just being with them and Greta has made me different than I was. If we’d met at any other time I’d just be some showy necromancer in their way.

Nestian disagreed. He believed that even if we’d met at a different point in time, we could have come to an understanding in a way the others can’t with Keisuke. Because, according to Nestian, I am not pointlessly cruel. I don’t just hurt and kill innocent people for fun. I argued that hurting innocent people was just a waste of energy—it wasn’t some moral stance on my part, I just know it’s an ineffective waste of my time that I could be focusing elsewhere. Nestian pointed out that plenty of people we’ve fought didn’t think so—they tortured and killed just for their own amusement. I argued that this only proved my point, because we’d killed all of them, so clearly that wasn’t the best way to go about gaining and holding power.

Nestian claimed that I’m a better person than I give myself credit for. He pointed out that I’d never hidden a thing about who I really am from Greta, and we were still together, still love each other. He said that he didn’t think Greta would stay with someone if they were as bad as Keisuke—so we were clearly on a different level. That…I couldn’t argue. Greta might not care about the whole morality thing any more than I do, but I can’t imagine her being happy with someone like Keisuke. For one thing I think she’d rip his throat out the first time he hurt someone she cared about and then tried to act like he was the victim for not knowing ahead of time that he shouldn’t kill that one particular person.

I’ve been…perhaps more patient with such things than I should be. But…like I said it’s complicated.

We bid each other a good night shortly after, and I returned to Grimm Labyrinthus to write in peace for a while. If they need me again tonight, Aenland has the Stone of Far Speech. I just…need to get into the right headspace for tomorrow. I know that despite his promise, Aenland is chomping at the bit to have another shot at Keisuke. And Nestian has every reason to hate him, and to want to see him dead. I wouldn’t have even blamed him if he were to decide by this point that was done with letting me try to talk to him. But Nestian is nothing if not patient. Really the only people I’m certain won’t just go for his head the second they see an opportunity are Talsune and Greta. I know I can trust Greta, and I can feel from Talsune his intention to not start anything so long as Keisuke doesn’t act first, for my sake. They’re both really better than I deserve.

…

I didn’t see the caster of the spell when Jadrenka and Ratibor were suddenly pulled from the battle—trapped below the earth by incredibly powerful magic.

Talsune, however, did.

Keisuke was at Kostchtchie’s side, and the Demon Lord had given him an order to fulfill his end of a deal. Keisuke subsequently breathed in some sort of yellow smoke and cast that spell—his eyes glowing an unnatural yellow and yellow mist flowing from his mouth as he chanted out the Imprisonment spell.

Afterwards he told Kostchtchie that he’d done as he’d promised, in a rather perturbed manner. Remembering our previous conversation, and having noted his behavior a bit since meeting him, even if I was seeing it second hand through Talsune I had the feeling Keisuke was planning to do something.

I decided to let him do whatever he was going to do, trusting that he was going to assist us as he’d promised—and in the meantime I was going to render as much of this battlefield helpless as I could to even our odds even further.

I stepped forward and ordered the hoard of centaurs and svathurims before me to bow—and as Overwhelming Presence took hold of their minds, they did as I commanded. Kostchtchie was no longer their god. I was. And what a wrathful god I would be.

Illivor was returned to her human form, and as a true Winter Witch she began raining death upon our enemies with her impressive magic—much to Edeya’s dismay, as her aunt clearly leans more towards my view of the usage of magic than her more gentle view on how it should be used.

The giant warped statue above us had stopped moving without Jadrenka’s power to puppeteer it, and now the ground began to tremble as three clerics in the back with Keisuke began casting Earthquake in a desperate bid to destroy Artrosa before we could attempt to do anything to return the fledgling dual gods to their seat of power.

I considered using Miracle to try to free them, but quickly banished the thought, realizing that I could only glean their location with a Miracle spell. I would need a Freedom spell to actually break the seal on their Imprisonment—and of our group the only one with any chance of holding that sort of magic was Xernabeth. And she was back at the Clocktower, and unlikely to have it prepared today regardless, so a lot of good that would do for us.

Roscoe darted over to me, his body mangled, just barely avoiding a blow that would have destroyed him with Nestian’s assistance. He thanked the centaur that tried to stab him with a bullet wound in return—not even half his bones being broken would stop him from carrying out my orders.

Have a mentioned lately how happy I am to have Roscoe back? Fuck that demi-lich, forget any other undead pet I could gather up, Roscoe is the only one of them I can rely on. The rest (sans demi-lich) are being relegated to guard duty for Grimm Labyrinthus. Walter is staying in the Bag of Holding where he belongs until I decide if I’m going to destroy him or find somewhere even more isolated to stuff him.

Roscoe’s wasn’t the only gunfire I heard. Our other companion, one Indrid Cold, was firing off his guns as fast as he could into the opening into the Abyss, holding back a horde of Frost Giants that were crawling their way through. Whenever one would actually make it past the gunfire and out the other end, it would be obliterated by Kostchtchie’s power, unraveled until there was nothing but blood, which would enter one of the corpses of Kostchtchie’s faithful, and they would rise again.

Kostchtchie himself was lumbering forward, throwing boulders haphazardly about the battlefield as he went, but his eyes were locked on Wuso. He kept saying he was going to ‘take his blood back’ from her.

I—or well Talsune really—heard a bit of a commotion beyond the battlefield, back where the enemy clerics and Keisuke were. The clerics were taunting Keisuke, telling him to stay and fight, calling him a coward, and a woman, for having no desire to stay and fight for longer than he’d agreed upon.

And then Keisuke made the gestures I knew to be the somatic components to Time Stop, and suddenly he was gone.

And a bunch of explosions went off at the clerics feet where he’d left them a nasty surprise.

And I felt something in my pocket—the same one I kept the pocket watch in—that hadn’t been there before. I reached into my robes and found two rolled up papers—spell scrolls.

Scrolls of Freedom.

That clever fox.

As the battle raged around us I worked on the scrolls, reading off the first one and releasing Jadrenka from where she was sealed, deep beneath the dirt and rock and snow. She reappeared atop the status of Artrosa, and it once again because shifting and moving with her newly awakened power.

And it started shooting beams of the Eon Pit’s energy, which could age things into oblivion.

Yeah, remember how the Eon Pit took 5 years of my life? Like that but infinitely worse. I am so glad she was on our side this time.

Unfortunately, with the statue moving again, the clerics in the back lines of Kostchtchie’s forces redoubled their efforts in throwing Earthquakes at it. It was starting to show some wear and probably wouldn’t be able to survive them chipping away at it for much longer.

Thankfully, Aenland and Nevra decided to put a stop to that. Nevra cast Dimension Door, and suddenly the two of them were behind enemy lines, and Aenland had put enough arrows into one of the clerics to sent him falling to his death before he could even blink.

The bad news was that this got the attention of Kostchtchie’s herald, that nasty mutilated white dragon The Wings of Malice. It flew straight at them and attacked. From where I was I couldn’t see what happened from there, with the big dragon’s body in the way, but a moment later Nevra swooped away from the dragon, twisting and dodging around his claws. She stabbed and tossed a second cleric off the cliff on the way as she and Aenland swooped back across the battlefield, a silhouette against Kostchtchie’s symbol in the sky.

Kostchtchie himself finally reached Wuso, but he only taunted her, saying he was leaving her for last, before he made the same familiar hand gestures I’d seen Keisuke make, and he vanished—having instead appeared next to Edeya.

Edeya quickly backed away, and pulled one of the charms from her Bracelet of Friends, immediately teleporting Nestian to her side. He put himself between her and Kostchtchie.

Cesseer teleported beside me with her Battleflower skills, looking a bit battered from going toe-to-toe with one of those big Rune Giants. We joked a bit about the sorts of situations I kept getting her into not quite being what she’d expected going to another planet. As we did, I prepared the second scroll.

A moment later, Ratibor reappeared next to Wuso, ready to take the Demon Lord head-on if he was going to go after her.

Ratibor told us he’d do what he could to help, but that protecting his family was his priority.

Things clicked into place. That’s why Kostchtchie kept saying Wuso had his blood. Because she was the descendant of Jadrenka and Ratibor that we’d been looking for. She really had been right under our nose the entire time.

To be fair my theory that it was Joseph was only off by one degree.

As if to highlight the point, Ratibor turned one of the svathurims to dust when it broke free from my Overwhelming Presence and regained his mind for just long enough to lunge at Wuso, who he’d wrongly assumed would be the easiest target.

At about that same time, Aenland let loose an arrow into the sky. Or at least I assume he did, because when I looked I saw him aiming his bow—but what was flying towards the Symbol of Misogyny was not an arrow. It was a swarm of wasps.

It would seem our final meeting with Calistria came and went, and she gave Aenland a little boon for his trouble. Or maybe just to piss Kostchtchie off. Hard to say with gods.

I didn’t have time to think about it, because at about that moment The Wings of Malice targeted Talsune and I, nearly knocking me from my partner’s back with a swipe of his claws. Talsune retaliated with the vicious efficiency that is fueled by his battle rage.

I heard Illivor’s voice ring out from behind me as she ordered one of our enemies to die—and his heart stopped dead. Edeya was moderately horrified at her aunt using lethal magical methods, but I was feeling quite giddy at the show of overwhelming magical force.

I liked that idea, and attempted to do the same to the bloodied dragon before me—unfortunately I underestimated his defenses, and the magic fell on deaf ears.

I didn’t have to worry about the dragon for long, however, as Jadrenka shot an Eon Beam at the Wings of Malice, and it withered until it was nothing but dust. I turned my attention to Kostchtchie just in time to see Nestian laying into him and Aenland and Nevra swoop down to join in on the assault. Both looked somewhat horrified at something they could see, but I was too far away to make it out myself.

Kostchtchie laughed, asking if they liked it. He claimed what they saw was the power of a true Demon Lord. What had been stripped from him, when he’d gone to bring knowledge to two more powerful Demon Lords, only to find his mind had lost the knowledge he’d once meant to give. The more powerful Demons Lords had cursed him and cast him out for wasting their time. He was stripped of much of his power as a result of this failure. A former Demon Lord.

And that’s why he wanted the blood of one of Ratibor’s descendants—something like that might help him to regain what had been stripped from him.

Obviously we weren’t going to let that happen.

Once Aenland had plunged the rapier into Kastchtchie, I ordered Roscoe to shoot the former Demon Lord with everything he had. Then Nestian lunged forward and finished it, nearly cutting his head clean off.

Only it wasn’t over. His body fell to the ground, a dead lump of Abyssal flesh, but it was still very quickly stitching itself back together, even the most grievous of injuries slowly beginning to close on their own. Unlike a troll who I could just bathe in acid or fire to cauterize the regenerating wounds, the only thing that could stop the regeneration of this was something Mythic—maybe even only something Deific. I hoped that Jadrenka or Ratibor would have something up their sleeves, because we certainly didn’t.

In the meantime, Indrid Cold continued clearing out the swarms of frost giants still trying to push their way through the tear in space—now preventing their lifeforce from rejuvenating Kostchtchie’s rather than some minion.

I had Roscoe focus on continuing to shoot the dead former Demon Lord to try to stay ahead of his regeneration, while Talsune and I went to cull the last few centaurs and svathurim who were still worshipping me.

As we swooped in, the final svathurim—the spitting image of the one we’d killed in the Eon Pit the first time—broke free of my spell. He lunged forward with his lance, spearing me. I told him that was a big mistake—I could have made this quick and painless while he was still bowing before me, but now I was going to make this hurt.

I cast Slay Living through the pocket watch, making it overcharge by nine times if he resisted the spell. Which of course he did, just as I assumed he would. So inky black flames devoured his flesh and his bones, decaying and burning everything they touched all at once, until there was nothing left of him but an echo of his screams.

As I pulled my hand away, Talsune lunged forward at the centaur who has been paired with that same svathurim. I vaguely recognized him from our battle in the Eon Pit 4000 years ago as well, but unlike last time he didn’t put up any sort of a fight. Still enraptured by my spell, Talsune cut him down where he stood in a single swift swing of his blade.

Aenland put arrows through the final centaur, who had been taking shots at me with a bow but hadn’t been able to get close to the fight virtually the entire battle. Aenland showed him what a real archer could do.

Things began to grow quiet, except for the roaring of the tear in space leading into the depths of the Abyss.

In in final act of desperation, Kostchtchie managed to rally his power and pull his body back together despite his fatally severe wounds—and he charged right for Wuso. He threw Ratibor aside with his first blow, and then went to bring his hammer down on Wuso.

And in that moment, Wuso refused to back down, even without her powers, even before a former Demon Lord, she stood strong, possibly staring death right in the eye. She grabbed her whip, and in a flash of light it reignited with divine power.

Not Calistria’s power. Jadrenka and Ratibor’s power.

Calistria hadn’t stripped Wuso of her power for anything she had done. She had done it to prepare her to step up as the first followers of two new gods—her own ancestors. Calistria knew this was going to happen.

As Kostchtchie lunged for Wuso, she swung her whip around his neck. And with a harsh tug, the divine energy cut through his already damaged neck. And Kostchtchie fell.

For good this time.

Jadrenka’s apologized for keeping her plan close to her chest and lying to us, but she couldn’t risk it getting out. I can’t speak for the others, but far be it for me to resent someone keeping a secret—especially one as dire as that. She had every reason to keep her plan to herself. She didn’t even tell Ratibor, even though he was going to ascend alongside her.

Which, probably smart on her part. He doesn’t strike me as much of a secret keeper. Although he’s certainly better at it than my dear, lovely, wonderful companions, who upon introducing Wuso and Ratibor earlier just immediately with no hesitation told her about him being the human incarnation of Kostchtchie without even considering that maybe he wouldn’t want that spread around. All’s well that ends well, but damn, it’s no wonder Jadrenka didn’t trust us with her plan if she wanted to keep it on the down low. I am the only one of these fuckers who knows how to keep a secret.

Well, there’s Edeya. I’ll give Edeya credit that she can keep a secret when she wants to. It’s mostly Aenland and Nestian who act like they will curl up and wither away if they have to omit details from allies outside our inner circle.

I’m standing by this one, I’m not wrong that it’s perfectly ok and healthy to keep some secrets. Not everyone needs to know every little minute detail about everyone else.

Anyways.

Jadrenka said we could feel free to enter the Eon Pit if ever we had need, and she’d give us an easy trial to pass. She also said there was a special chamber within Artrosa that we could feel free to access as needed. It’s called the Möbius Chamber, and apparently a week in there is only a few hours out here. So it could be a good place to go for Jadrenka crafting items or me scribing some scrolls. Or for resting if something time sensitive is coming up but we’re on our last legs.

Nestian and Aenland both wanted to enter the Eon Pit. Aenland had found that the journal he’d gotten from the Winter Wolf prince’s palace was no longer indecipherable—but it also no longer alluded to some secret final card the queens of Irrisen had to keep themselves alive. So he wanted to see if he could get a look at a different timeline’s version of the journal using the Eon Pit.

Nestian didn’t say what he wanted to enter the Eon Pit for, but after answering that damned riddle again (it was less annoying and more bemusing coming from Jadrenka though), he and Aenland entered the Eon Pit together.

While they were busy doing that, I was going to see about fixing the Nonagon for Keisuke. There wasn’t anything in the Eon Pit I wanted. It could slow my aging, of course. But my ultimate goal is immortality, not to merely slow my aging. So using the Eon Pit would be more of a last resort if I absolutely can’t find an alternative in a decent amount of time. Which, given that I’ll have Mythic Power when all’s said and done, I doubt will ever be necessary.

Jadrenka, Edeya, and Indrid Cold came with me to examine the door. Indrid had made it clear he was not fond of Keisuke, but he also wanted to stop the damage that was being done by the Nonagon’s current state and the time dragons being dropped on top of Whitethrone. So our objectives conveniently continued to align.

Edeya was just afraid of the Eon Pit still, and preferred to help me with fixing Keisuke’s problem than waiting for Nestian alone at its entrance. And obviously Jadrenka wanted the thing feeding on the Eon Pit to be stabilized and to quit interfering with the fabric of time and space.

So the four of us examined the nine-sided door, bouncing observations and ideas off each other as we looked over the glyphs around the edges. I told them what I could about the interior, and how it matched up with what we were seeing out here.

Finally we spotted it. I grabbed a rune that was out of place, twisting it back into the right position so that everything was properly aligned again. The wild arcane magic that had been swirling around the door calmed, and was sucked into the Nonagon as if through an unseen keyhole.

One more problem solved.

We got back just in time to see Aenland and Nestian returning. Both looked about the same—certainly neither had their time stolen by the Pit like I had. If anything, the fur around Nestian’s muzzle looked darker, although I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining things until he shifted into his human form we so rarely see. He looked good. Like, really good. He’d clearly shed a good couple of decades. We’re probably about the same age now. Ironically seeing as I gained a few years and he lost some, so apparently we met in the middle. We poked fun at him for being baby faced because he mostly lost his beard. But honestly? Good for Edeya. I mean, good for Nestian, but let’s be real, good for Edeya. He’s a catch.

And before anyone starts on me specifically having an eye for our shapeshifting companions, between Greta and Nestian, that’s not true. Cesseer and Edeya are also incredibly attractive individuals. Aenland’s more of an acquired taste, but seeing as he’s made it clear he’s more likely to eat a human than sleep with a human, I leave it at that.

Anyways, I suppose technically what Aenland came back with was the more pressing matter. The Eon Pit had given him a vision. Initially, the person writing in the journal seemed to be aware of his presence, but when she told him to come closer to see what she was writing, something blocked his path. He recognized the magic that was blocking him—it wasn’t the book that was warded, the magic was Baba Yaga’s, and there was something about this woman that she didn’t want known. However Aenland still got the other answers he was looking for, because she woman’s visage changed into Queen Elvanna. Queenie wasn’t aware of Aenland, until the author of the journal, and she actually walked right through him like a specter. She was reading the journal, and came to what we needed. The final defense of the queens of Irrisen: if even one person in the country believes that they cannot be killed by anyone but Baba Yaga, then they cannot be killed.

Those cheating…

So what are we supposed to do? In an entire country, how to we convince every single person that Elvanna can be defeated? How do we make sure that every single impressionable child, loyal fanatic, and hopeless doomsayer quits believing that Elvanna is unstoppable? If we miss even a single person, that’s it, we’ve lost before we’ve even begun.

I can work a crowd, I could convince some people that Queenie isn’t invincible with ease. But an entire country fed on the witch queens’ propaganda for centuries? That’s a tall order even for me.

Anyways, right after we teleported back to the Belltower, I got a Sending from Keisuke. He told me that the Nonagon was fixed, and thanked me—as a friend. He also told me not to ‘try the yellow stuff’ because it made him feel like shit. I could have told him that before he went and did it. Messing with outer gods it one of those things I’m never going to touch, what you get from it is never worth the price.

I just laughed it off and told him I didn’t intend to.

We’re taking a short break, and I’m getting as much written as I can while we do. We’re probably heading back out soon. Cesseer is probably going to crash for a bit after the rough brawl she had with the Rune Giant followed by tangling with The Wings of Malice, and so Greta is joining us instead when we head out to clear the Crone Queen from the Water Palace.

After saving Nadya’s family we met with the Heralds of Summer’s Dawn, who judged Peanut, and with Nestian’s help decided to forgive him for the mistakes he’d made in disbanding them. Now they’re going to help us too. Although they revealed to us that a circus was coming to town run by a man from Keisuke’s universe. Someone apparently deeply connected to Nestian’s family, and in a very bad way. He would have to be stopped, because his existence in this world was throwing all of the followers of Gozra’s powers into chaos.

After that is when we saved Greta, and then I spoke to Keisuke in the Nonagon.

Then we killed a Crone Queen at the theatre, saved a bunch of people, and got the horde of a dragon. This was just before we met the plant man and sprung Cesseer from jail. This is also where I lost Roscoe and took control of a mouthy piece of shit demilich I’ve been calling Walter. Walter is currently in time out in my bag of holding because he wasn’t very discerning with where he aimed his Wail of the Banshee in combat and he hit Greta. And then he said she shouldn’t have been in the way. So he’s staying in the bag until further notice. Possibly forever. I might look into how to destroy demiliches and enlist Edeya’s help to destroy him (I suspect it will involve positive energy). We’ll see how spiteful I’m feeling in a few days.

Anyways before Walter fucked up and got himself banned from experiencing anything but the void of the Bag of Holding, I asked him how one becomes a lich. Because it seemed like the most straightforward way for a necromancer to gain immortality at the time. The demilich told me that the final step in the ritual is usually some form of sacrifice. And it’s generally crossing a line so horrible there’s no going back.

I’ve never been one to shy away from lines, so this didn’t deter me from looking into it further later. But we’ll get to that.

I made a Demiplane, for our group’s privacy and safety, and also for my own personal use in the future. It is called Grimm Labyrinthus. It’s not so intricate magically as the Nonagon—not being set up on top of the Eon Pit and all—but I still think I’ve made a rather clever wonder all the same. I won’t be committing its secrets to paper. But I will say the Labyrinth part in the name is quite literal if you don’t know where you are meant to go within it.

After we finished the jailbreak and got a wonderful rest in my new home, we decided to deal with the nasty little clown infestation in town. It was time to shut down the circus that had apparently haunted Nestian’s family for two generations.

We fought through various twisted fey while Jairess channeled Gozreh, determining whether they would agree with Nestian’s balance or the ringmaster’s chaos in nature.

Nestian came out victorious. In a final desperate moment the ringmaster tried to cheat. Jairess stopped him by summoning the spirit of a powerful archdruid from the past.

It was Nestian’s father.

Nestian and his father put an end of whatever this dark chapter of their family history was.

I don’t really get what happened next, but from how Nestian and Peanut talked, it sounds like Nestian got a chance to talk to his father afterwards. His expression is hard to read generally, but he definitely looked happy after that.

…

Miracle can do a lot of things. Bringing back the dead without a body should be entirely within the realm of possibility. I don’t know if him being from another universe might make things more difficult, but…

Keisuke killed him. I could undo it.

Nestian deserves to have his entire family.

Honestly Aenland does, too. But I feel more cautious about broaching that topic given how sensitive the subject is for him. Maybe just healing his mother, though…?

If I could do it, why shouldn’t I?

But that’s for later. Elvanna is already threatening to kill our families. Probably better not to give her more targets for the time being.

And that about catches us up. To last night, when I wrote my previous journal entry.

See, after the circus was done with, I still had two uses of Miracle left for the day. So I decided to make use of them. I used them both to cast the spell Legend Lore. Once on an Iron Flask we’d found, to discover what creature was held within it. And once on myself. To learn once and for all what my path to lichdom was.

The spirits I called on for Legend Lore whispered to me, and I saw a vision.

I was in the House of Murder. It was me, but changed. It was me, but so beautiful, and so powerful. I can still see it in my mind’s eye and my heart aches that it will never be a reality.

Because next to me was a second figure. Their visage changed, flickering between familiar faces. Aenland, Nestian, Edeya…Greta…

No matter which face the figure wore, it was slumped before me. With a knife in their back. Killed at their height, their life cut short during their crowning achievement.

That is the line.

I could laugh if I didn’t just want to fucking break something.

The line that was staring me in the face this entire time. The one I said even months ago I wasn’t strong enough to cross. And my resolve has only weakened since then.

This is a cruel joke. The height of power that a necromancer can get, just out of reach. I can see it. It would be so easy to reach out and take it. To make that beautiful vision a reality.

And yet it would not be easy at all. It would be torturous. I would sooner cut out my own heart than harm Greta. And even if I had the resolve to kill one of the others…I would still lose her. She cares about the others, just as I do. If I killed one of them for power, I wouldn’t lose just one of them. I would lose all of them. There would be no forgiveness or understanding for that betrayal. Nor should there be.

So the only way to gain the one thing I need to remain outside of the Boneyard’s grasp would lose me everything else. What would be the point of beauty and power and immortality if I’m alone?

Fuck. These assholes really have changed me. I don’t even know when it happened. When did I quit only relying on myself—only trusting myself—and start putting them before even my own ambitions? I can’t pinpoint a single moment, a flip of the switch between not caring and caring. Somewhere the gradient smeared, with such subtly it’s hard to say when it changed from black to grey, and my priorities shifted from gaining the things I want, to protecting what I already have—those in my circle who somehow became precious to me.

Don’t get me wrong, I still want power and immortality. I’ll just have to find a way that doesn’t involve sacrificing my companions. Others have found the secrets of immortality before me. And I’m going to get mythic power one way or another. So…it should be possible. It must be possible.

It just won’t be as easy as a single death at the right time and place.

It’s almost enough to make me want to wish my damn emotions away, so I could reach for what I want unimpeded. But then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy my final reward. Power and immortality and no ability to feel pride in making it that far, no ability to feel joy in having bested Pharasma’s game of life and death…it would be a hollow victory, just as pointless in the end as ending up alone with my emotions intact would be.

Is that it, then? Is that the joke Pharasma’s played on the world? Either die and face her judgement, or get an empty self-defeating victory in immortality?

That can’t be right. I refuse to believe that’s right. There must be a way to gain immortality that doesn’t defeat the purpose. Maybe not the way Baba Yaga gained it, maybe not lichdom, but that power has to be out there somewhere.

Mythic power will be my first step towards it. Maybe it will even be my key to unlocking it.

Anyways. I’ve waxed poetic about how fucking awful the universe is for snatching away the thing I want most enough, I think.

I tried to take my mind off it by making a little personal trek to Abbadon to fetch Roscoe. Then I returned to the clocktower and slept off my sour mood. With Greta there. She didn’t even have to ask what was wrong. She just acknowledged that something *was* wrong, then shifted into her wolf form and curled up with me. It helped. Having her there. It hurt, like a dagger through my own heart. But it also helped. Her presence reaffirmed that I didn’t want to lose her—not for anything.

The next day we had a surprise visit from Ratibor, our good old mortal incarnation of Kostchtchie. He told us that Baba Yaga gave him something to give to Jadrenka—it was a note for 2 weeks paid time off. A bit perplexing, but given that Baba Yaga works about fifteen steps ahead of the rest of us I’m sure it’ll make sense when the time comes.

Seeing as Baba Yaga was clearly telling us where to go next, we put our current plans on hold (a trip to the bathhouse to kill the Crone Queen shacked up there), and instead teleported back to Ioberia. For the first time in 4000 years, technically.

We had one other detour first, though. To the roof of the clocktower, because we heard Wuso scream, and had a second surprise visit for the day—from Calistria herself.

I forgot to mention when I talked about the theatre. Calistria was in the audience, in disguise. Still absolutely radiating sexual energy. Hottest god in the pantheon indeed.

This time she was not disguised. She appeared before Wuso in all her glory.

And she stripped Wuso of her power, before telling the rest of us that this was the second of three times we’d be meeting. Then the elven goddess disappeared, leaving Wuso at the edge of the clocktower, absolutely shattered.

The others tried to comfort her. I said nothing. I had no words of comfort to give. They all tried to reassure her that it would be ok, or that maybe this was just a test.

I wanted to say that sometimes gods are fickle. Gods are so much more powerful than us, that there is no way they see the world the way that we do. There is no way to know what Wuso did that made Calistria do this. It could be any little thing. It could be nothing at all. When you have power, the powerless are your toys to play with.

But the others were trying to hard to draw her back from the edge. So I said nothing.

Before Calistria had told us before she left that we should take Wuso to Ioberia with her. Because she would need a distraction from ‘a bad breakup’.

The others interpreted this as a test for Wuso, something she would have to face to get her powers back. Maybe it is. Calistria must have said it for a reason. Or maybe Wuso has a destiny not tied to Calistria, and she is setting her on that path—whether she likes it or not.

Aenland asked Wuso if that was what *she* wanted to do—regardless of what Calistria said. Wuso agreed, she wanted to come with us. So we teleported, once again, to Ioberia.

We appeared on top of the Maiden Statue, and immediately met a strange gun wielding man with red tinted glasses, who killed the riddle tree when it sent berserk after he answered the stupid riddle we’ve heard four times now correctly. It was going to eat Aenland, who had climbed into its mouth—again. Not that Aenland was likely in any danger, that tree was maybe dangerous when we came here 4000 years ago, but we have grown in power exponentially since then.

The fact this man answered the riddle, however, also implies he knew the previous Black Rider. By name, not just by title.

He introduced himself as Indrid Cold. The man Keisuke had warned me about. The one he’d suggested I kill on sight. I did not do as he suggested—primarily because this man had a sense of power about him that gave me reason to pause. I have the distinct feeling I would not be capable of killing Indrid Cold alone—nor do I think my companions would be willing to take up arms against him on Keisuke’s behalf.

So instead I simply kept my guard up, incase the man had any ill-intent. He claimed that he wanted to come with us into Artrosa because it had certain defenses that would target the strongest in the party with their worst memories. He’d seen visions of the worst ways this could go wrong. So he wished to join us so that it would specifically target him and none of us by default as he without a hint of uncertainty said he was the most powerful one here.

Aenland claimed if we’d gone in alone we all knew it would target him. I am in severe disagreement on that matter. And if it had pulled from my memories, there was as much chance as not that it could pull something I don’t even remember, so it wouldn’t be particularly personal.

Regardless, there was little choice but to agree to let this man come with us.

As we prepared to enter Artrosa for the fourth time, Indrid pulled me aside. He said that he’d seen—with whatever future sight he has—that I did not trust him due to Keisuke’s warnings in most possible futures. He said he would not try to convince me with words, since I knew better than most how words can be twisted to one’s own benefit. Instead he would let his actions speak for him.

I told him that was all fine and good, but until then he would have to forgive me if I was going to be cautious until he had sufficiently proven himself trustworthy. He agreed that he expected no less.

So long as we have an understanding.

After that we delved into Artrosa proper. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, Indrid seemed rather offput. He said something was wrong. The room we entered was not what he’d seen in his visions.

We had entered a familiar room with a gazebo in the center. Many spectral figures of Jadrenka as the mother, maiden, and crone stood to the sides. And under the gazebo, just as we’d first met her, bull and all, was Jadrenka.

The bull was not disguised a gorgon waiting to kill us this time at least.

We approached, and spoke to Jadrenka. Radibor almost barreled her over in a hug. He told her he had something for her, but she said to wait until the end to give it to her, as the events to unfold might affect things.

Apparently being back here had returned Jadrenka’s memories. At least, the ones she hadn’t already been getting back on her own. She had taken up the position of warden again. Because Artrosa needed a warden, and her mother was dead. She thanked us for not making her warden so many years before—she was aware of how poorly that would have gone. But she believed that now she had a way around the things that had deteriorated her mental state the first time around.

Baba Yaga made the rules, and Baba Yaga was indisposed at the moment. Which meant she had time to make some new rules.

Risky business. But I feel like if she plays her cards right Baba Yaga will respect the hustle. It’s all about doing it in a way that impresses her, instead of insulting her.

For now, however, she was the warden, and we needed to get into the Eon Pit, so that meant she needed to test us. She told us she’d love to bend the rules and just let us through, but given that bending the rules in the past was part of what had made things go bad the first time around, she wasn’t going to play that game again, even to help us kill a Crone Queen who was doing a fucked up ritual in the Eon Pit.

So she split us into two groups. Ratibor would look after Wuso and face a trial through one passage, while the rest of us faced a different trial based on Indrid’s memories through a different passage.

We entered the door with Indrid’s visage on it.

The first place we appeared was at a bridge. A young Indrid—just a teen at most—was running to the bridge, yelling for the people to get away, they were in danger.

He was too late.

The bridge collapsed, and dozens of people fell with it. The air of death was palpable.

Two men in clergy robes turned to him. They had faces very much like the adult Indrid we have met, sans the glasses.

One of the men accused him of causing this. The child tried to argue that he’d merely seen it, but the man only accused him more violently of being a blight who brings misfortune. The people around him were forming into a mob, and they began to chase the child. Into the woods. Into the dark.

Heartless. They were going to string up a child for trying to warn them of danger. If this weren’t just a memory, I would kill them myself. Show them what a real monster looks like as they die in agony.

Instead, the bridge was completely consumed by a storm of darkness. I recognized a dangerous haunt, which if allowed to grow would begin trying to feed off the souls of any of my companions not warded by my Oracle’s Vessel. And myself and those who were warded would still be struck by bolts of lightning, so not even we were truly safe from it.

This was too dangerous to not take seriously. So I called on my most powerful magic, using a miracle to turn my negative energy positive for just long enough to cast a Mass Cure Critical Wounds.

It burned. It burned like reaching into the sun. Like the fires of the Hells. From my finger tips up to my elbows, with how powerful the positive energy had been. But it got the job done. The storm visibly weakened. I shouted to Edeya that we needed positive energy—and not Heal, because it would be immune to that. Unfortunately, given the power of that particular spell.

Edeya dropped a healing spell on it, and then I felt some of the power of the Black Rider revitalize me as Aenland sent me some of his power—allowing me the split second I needed to cast another miracle and hit the storm a second time with even more positive energy. Everything burned. I could barely feel my hands. But the storm burned with me.

Indrid finished it off with a healing spell of his own. Which seemed fitting, I suppose.

The scene faded back to the regular collapsed bridge. The two clergymen walked away, back towards a nearby town. And I got the sense that the child had escaped his pursuers.

After, we walked down the same path the two men had walked. Time seemed to speed up. Seasons passed. Plants began to wither. Strange, twisted fruit grew from the trees. The town grew poor—except for the church, which grew opulent.

We found ourselves at the church door. There was an attack. Indrid had returned to reap his vengeance.

We threw open the door.

Inside were angels made of roiling magma, human clergy, and Indrid’s brother. The head of the clergy, wearing his weight in gold while those in the village starved.

Jadrenka warned us that this would not be the fight as Indrid truly remembered it—it was warped by his feelings, by how he perceived the events.

We fought. Indrid shot his brother with enough bullets to fell any normal man—but he was clearly no normal man this time. His wounds were healing rapidly.

Then a massive hammer smashed through the stained glass behind him, and a colossal angelic being slugged Aenland with it.

He’s making a habit out of this.

One of the clergy tried to heal Indrid’s brother, but Nevra interrupted his spell with a well-placed spear swing. Cesseer did the same to one of the angels.

A member of the clergy stepped away from Nevra to avoid her spear, and cast Implosion on Indrid. Much like when I boneshatter something to death and just crunch all the bones into each other, his body tried to fold into itself. It looked painful.

What a shame.

I decided to clear out some of the trash and give my companions some breathing room to deal with the actual threats. One Wail of the Banshee later: all of the clergy and most of the angels were dead. Talsune finished off another angel that was attacking Roscoe (I did not just get him back to have him be destroyed by a gods-damned angel, thank you very much).

Then Roscoe took four shots at the massive angelic being—and actually managed to paralyze it. Clearly getting a little training on his own in Abbadon just killing hordes of Daemons non-stop did him some good.

I missed Roscoe. Baykoks are the best undead pets. I think I will find a way to get more and guard Grimm Labyrinthus with them. Maybe Baba Yaga will let me poach some from the fortress in the Dancing Hut…

A thought for another day.

Aenland executed Indrid’s brother—who was apparently healing so fast because he was a gods-damned Void Yai Oni.

And I finished off the massive angelic being, burning it with Firestorm, then forcing it to its knees with Boneshaker, the massive immortal creature kneeling before us—as it should—until its spine snapped and it fell limp.

The memory went back to play out how things had actually happened. Indrid shot the head of the clergy—not dead, just incapacitated. Then he strung a noose around his neck, and threw him out the window. Both to kill him and to show the town that the tyrant was dead.

He expected accolades. He expected the town to finally not see him as a monster. His brother had been at the heart of all their problems, surly they would be grateful for his demise.

Instead, when he looked out the window, the people he saw below were more terrified than ever.

Backing away from the window, Indrid transformed. Revealing that he is some sort of werebat. Which explains the clicking noises he makes, before shooting and just at regular intervals when moving about. It seems to be to make up for his apparent lack of sight—he must use echolocation.

He fled, leaving the town behind. For good this time, I suspect.

I’ve seen more about Indrid now, and yet I understand him less, I think. He went and got his revenge on the man who caused much of his grief, but he didn’t feel satisfied. He felt worse. He wanted the people in the town to accept him, even though it was the people in the town who also treated him like a monster. If it were me, I’d have wanted to burn the entire town to the ground, not just the church. What those people think doesn’t matter. But what they did was vile and deserves some recompense.

But Indrid doesn’t seem to think so, even though he’s the one who experienced it first-hand. He doesn’t seem to think the revenge was worth it, even if it was deserved. I don’t understand that thought process. Not at all. Even if those people were ungrateful, he removed a parasite from their town.

The next memory didn’t shed any more light on things. It was a puzzle room. Inside was a strange android man who may or may not have been a figment of Indrid’s memories. The way he answered when Indrid asked was…questionable. It felt like there was more to him that met the eye. But it was impossible to puzzle out what from the things he said and the way he acted. It felt like he was toying with us. Like this was just an amusing pastime for him.

Except when I said something about having ripped out a few people’s hearts. That seemed to make him drop the façade for a moment. It seemed he didn’t like that particular comment. Not like it’s been anyone who didn’t deserve it. I’m not going to start feeling bad for ripping out Rasputin’s heart anytime soon.

Anyways, we worked out the puzzles. Not always in the intended manner (I used my Spirit Walk ability to go through the wall of a puzzle we were apparently meant to cast Silence on to make a painting disappear. But none of us had Silence, and we didn’t know this Ulong fellow would be willing to cast spells on our behalf until after the fact.)

The final door opened, and Ulong gave Indrid a small slip of paper before disappearing. I have no idea what that was about. It certainly gave no further insight into this Mr. Cold.

With all the important memories witnessed, Jadrenka asked Indrid, essentially, who he was. Indrid basically said he was just a little werebat trying to make his way in the world, and help people along the way.

So he’s like Nestian. Just a person who lives life as it comes to them and helps people as he sees they need help. Not striving for some greater ambition. Not seeking anything. Just living life.

I don’t know how anyone can live like that. It feels so…stagnant. It sounds like just…living, without a purpose. I don’t get how people can just exist, and not reach, and strive, and try to grow and become more. How do they not get bored just living? Just taking what life throws at them and helping people as they see people who need help.

It sounds awful.

I understand this Indrid Cold less now that I have seen his memories than I did when he was merely a mystery. At the very least, I think the only reason he’s a threat to Keisuke is the same reason Nestian would be. Because Keisuke is not a good person, and he does harm where it will benefit him, and they are both people who protect others.

I’m under no illusions about the sort of person Keisuke is. I’m not some blind fool who thinks there’s some good hidden inside him that my friends could nurture out if they just tried.

The thing is…if the others hadn’t met me when they did, and we met in Whitethrone instead of them meeting Keisuke there, they would have reacted to me back then exactly how they had Keisuke. They only care about me now because they got to know me. They only overlook some of places where I don’t even try to match my morals with theirs because we have known each other for so long, and they trust me. As I trust them.

If they had met me at any other time, they would have tried to kill me. No question in my mind, that is how it would have happened.

And so…I have difficulty feeling particularly enthusiastic about turning my magic against Keisuke. I see who I was—or who I could have been, perhaps. I see the others turning their blades on me. Perhaps it even feels like a stepping stone. If they go through with killing Keisuke, will they quit overlooking some of the things they’ve overlooked from me for so long, and start insisting I conform to their morals? Writing it, it sounds like paranoia. But it feels like a reality.

Anyways…anyways.

Jadrenka returned us from the illusory past. Now we found ourselves in the chamber Indrid has originally seen in his vision, the one he’d been expecting us to find when we first entered Artrosa.

Jadrenka would open the way to the Eon Pit, so that we could slay another Crone Queen, stop whatever ritual they were conducting, and fix the Nonagon.

When our preparations were complete, we followed Jadrenka through the doors that stood before us.

We followed her through halls that showed so many images of many Jadrenkas, leading many groups. Over and over a thousand times over. As with many things in the Eon Pit, it was hard to look at. And True Seeing didn’t make it any better—it was reality, not an illusion.

At last we made it to the end of the tunnel, and found a Crone Queen and her Winter Witches upon a giant floating snowflake. The ritual she was preforming was clearly a modified variation of the one Jadrenka herself had preformed last time we were here.

The one she’d been using to summon Kostchtchie.

The Crone Queen mocked us that we were too late.

In a rip through the fabric of reality, an emaciated white dragon’s claw reached through into the Eon Pit. It grabbed the Crone Queen…and crushed her in a single swift, violent movement.

The grotesque dragon stepped through, followed by familiar centaurs. And another far-too familiar form.

Kostchtchie, in the flesh. The Demon Lord of Frost Giants.

He saw us and bellowed in rage.

It would seem 4000 years had not dulled his memories—or his hatred.

The worst part is I know I don’t really mean that. As inconvenient as caring is, I wouldn’t want to lose Greta. Or Aenland, Edeya, Nestian, or Cesseer. But especially Greta.

We killed the prince of the Winter Wolves to get Greta back. A nasty bastard with two heads, who turned into some twisted royal wolf spirit after we killed him the first time and he had to be put down again before he stayed down. Greta inherited some of his power afterwards. And now she’s back with me. I felt whole again when we reunited, after days of fearing that at any moment Elvanna would order the two Crone Queens at the prince’s side to kill her, and that we—I—would be nowhere near to help.

Those were the worst couple of days. I am not afraid of many things. Having that hanging over me…it was awful. It was the worst. I never want to be in that position again.

I know Greta can take care of herself. It’s not like I’m going to become overprotective or anything. Her strength and confidence in using it is one of the things I like about her, I would never try to stand in the way of her and a fight she can survive. But her being there alone in the heart of the viper’s nest with two Crone Queens and dozens of enemy Winter Wolves including their prince…those would not have been good odds for any one of us alone. If Elvanna had said the word, she would have been alone, outnumbered, and in their home turf.

…It’s fine. It didn’t happen. It’s over now. Both the Crone Queens and the wolf prince are dead and Greta is safely with us. Cesseer is safe and back with the resistance as well. She’s even brought along some friends from prison who she’s training in the ways of being a Battleflower.

Cesseer’s jailbreak went exceptionally well, especially considering how stacked the odds were against us. I got us in, disguised as a guard with Greta on my arm as herself. We had Xernabeth fabricate some fake anti-magic wristbands so that everyone else would look like they were subdued in the manner of actual prisoners. Then we went from block to block convincing the inmates to join in on a plan we thought up with Cesseer to start an uprising that night.

We then snuck upstairs using a garbage chute, procured all of our allies’ confiscated equipment, and I got into contact with Cesseer with a plan to start the riot right as we got into position to attack the Crone Queen, so that we could take out her device to flood the entire prison in the split second that she was caught by surprise.

Oh, yeah, the entire prison was located under the lake and the Crone Queen was able to flood the entire place at the press of a button, slaughtering everyone inside if she felt the prison was compromised.

Anyways, long story short Aenland and Nestian smashed the staff with the button, we killed the Crone Queen and her disgusting magic slinging giant worm, and everyone was free to go on their way. Some of the prisoners joined our cause. Cesseer and her Battleflowers, obviously. But also a rather amusing group made up of a frost giant and his six gnome companions.

Oh also before we got into the prison we met a plant man who was one of the people who originally killed Illivor, and he offered to re-kill her to reincarnate her as a human again. She left with him and so for the entire prison escape Edeya’s familiar with a Noisoi psychopomp. I do not feel comfortable with that thing. Servants of Pharasma, messengers of the dead. Not exactly the sort to be in mixed company with a necromancer, generally speaking.

Did I miss anything important? I think after my last entry was the library. Right, the library. I met Keisuke at the library. We had a chat. He told me he had something he wanted to talk to me about and gave me another free pass to come to the Nonagon when I had the time. I did so not long after saving Greta. He also confirmed that he had Nestian’s mother’s Eidolon, although he didn’t know it belonged to someone in Nestian’s family at the time of kidnapping her. He denied doing anything to Nestian’s mother, and he claimed she was in danger but the danger was more of her own making than his fault.

Nothing else important happened at the library. We killed the Crone Queen. Well, really Nestian killed the Crone Queen. The rest of us killed a bunch of banshees, and wraiths, and I made a bunch of fuckers worship me as a god. I also got a book Keisuke needed for something.

Anyways, after I saved Greta I told Nestian I had a plan to try to save his mother’s Eidolon from Keisuke. And I did—with the information I had at the time, which it turns out was woefully inadequate. I think it was a rather good plan for the information I had though. I was going to sneak Roscoe in invisible and have him get the Eidolon out while Greta and I took up Keisuke’s attention. I also made a crawling hand out of Jadrenka’s mother hand (oh we killed her again by the way) to track the Eidolon if I failed to save her and which would have a scroll of plane shift tied to it for the Eidolon to make use of. And if Keisuke caught them I’d just lie, claim some other necromancer must have stolen control of my pet from me and was trying to play us against each other, and that I’d never seen the crawling hand before—after all I don’t make a habit of creating such weak undead. I’d then back up the lie by destroying Roscoe and the hand with a flame strike—that would conveniently just barely miss the Eidolon and hopefully give her enough time to get out.

That is…not what happened. At all. Because the Nonagon that Greta and I arrived to was a very different one than the one I’d shared tea with Keisuke in and seen the recording of my Grimm Rider self in the weeks prior. There was something very wrong with the Nonagon this time. His recorded song played, first normal, then in a disturbing slowed down mockery of Keisuke’s voice. There were nine doors around the room. One in particular seemed to have a violently bright light coming from behind it. Keisuke implied that the Eidolon was behind that door. The light, blocked as it was, was painful to see. Opening the door to save the Eidolon just then would have been a fool’s errand. Doing it stealthily would have been impossible, and the light would very likely have done a great deal of harm. And that’s assuming she could even be removed from behind the door with the Nonagon in this state.

Keisuke told me to ask Nestian to ‘get his mother out of his walls’. Apparently, somehow, Nestian’s mother was causing some of the decay of the Nonagon. Although it was apparently also because Artrosa didn’t have a warden and the Nonagon was set up right on top of the Eon Pit.

Remember how I mentioned above that we killed Jadrenka’s mom and I cut off her hand to make that crawling hand?

Yeah. Oops.

So apparently the Eon Pit being fucked was tearing holes in space-time, which was spitting time dragons into the middle of Whitethrone. So that’s not exactly ideal.

Jadrenka had already made her way to Artrosa to see to things, and there’s a Crone Queen messing with the Eon Pit, so we’re going to have to go there eventually anyways. I’ll just have to see about fixing the Nonagon while I’m there.

Besides that, Keisuke also revealed a bit about what he’s been doing to me. And why he’s been called a thief by a number of people we’ve met. Apparently he’s learned a modified version of the simulacrum spell, which he can use to channel the abilities of other beings. But he can only make this connection with beings he’s done harm to. As we spoke he was working on creating a simulacrum of some fancy elven man whom I saw in a vision of Keisuke’s past after I gave him the book I’d procured from the library. The man was some sort of apprentice or something to the man who wrote the book. Keisuke had broken a glass and cut the man’s hand as he was moving to take his leave, feigning it being an accident. It was calculated. To hurt him.

To make creating this simulacrum possible.

I left Keisuke to his work, and looked around the Nonagon before taking my leave. I was looking for proof of one simulacrum in particular. Each door showed me a sort of vision. The first was some small thin box or device. I’m not really clear on what I was seeing. However what I did recognize is that the object had the number ‘999’ on its side. I don’t know what that means, beyond fitting with Keisuke’s nine motif.

The next number of doors all showed me visions of people who Keisuke killed. A goblin, a human alchemist, a human wizard, and finally what I was looking for. What I knew I would find but was hoping I would not.

A half-orc man, his heart being ripped out. A vision I’d seen previously in the Eon Pit, when I made the pocket watch mine.

Nestian’s father.

If Nestian chooses to fight Keisuke in the end, he will have to fight a shadow of his father as well. And we will have to fight all these fragments of warriors from Keisuke’s universe whose powers he pilfered. It is not an idea I’m keen on. It’s even more reason I’d prefer to keep things amicable between us and Keisuke, although I fear that it won’t turn out that way. Keisuke’s personality simply clashes with the others too severely, even disregarding the fact that he’s personally done things to harm Nestian’s family.

I’ll stand with my friends if it comes to that. I don’t want to fight Keisuke. But I can’t fight the others.

At one time I thought that if it came to a fight between the others and Keisuke, I would stay out of it, refuse to fight either side. Or throw some Oracle’s Vessels on both sides and heal whoever.

I don’t think that anymore. If the others fight Keisuke, I’ll stand with them. I won’t like it. I won’t take any pleasure in killing him. I might not even throw my most brutal spells at him. Better to die by fire or Destruction than having every bone in your body broken. But I will stand with the others if it comes to that. They’re more important to me than…whatever it is I want from Keisuke at this point. I don’t even know. It’s not like I need him to gain mythic power. I have a wish from Baba Yaga all lined up for that. And he’s said it himself that I’m likely more powerful than him at this point. So there’s nothing he can teach me, sans the simulacrum spell, which I have no real interest in pursuing. So what do I want from him? For him to see me rise to greater and greater heights, because he’s the only one who’s seen me at both my most powerless and most powerful? It’s true, there is a certain satisfaction to that. No one from my old life would understand the greatness of the power I wield in the way Keisuke does, and yet he also knew me when he first raised me in that cave, when I was powerless. I don’t remember it, but I know I must not have known how to use my magic back then—I didn’t even know I had latent magical abilities back when I died. The others, they’ve only known me while I’ve been remembering how to wield my power—the Grimm Rider’s power. I’ve had power and mysteries from the moment I met them.

I don’t know. I guess there’s something about someone knowing one of those other versions of myself. Calio Caecos the boy who died in the cave, who was raised to become The Grimm Rider, who died and became Calio Caecos again—but this time touched by power. A man who can bend titans to their knees and warp reality to his will. All of these were me. And yet each was in a way a death and rebirth. Quite literally on the death end of that.

The boy in the cave on his way to Irrisen following a feeling and looking for answers…back then I would have killed one of the others for a taste of power and immortality. Without question, without a second thought. What’s one life compared to all I could do with a hundred lifetimes immortal? What’s one life when it’s in the way of what I desire?

I don’t know what the Grimm Rider would have done. I still don’t remember my time under that title, and I will never get that time back. But given that I had continued relying solely on myself, from the moment I left Keisuke to the moment I orchestrated my own death to avoid a more permanent demise, I suspect my choice would have been much the same. And I’d have had the means to do it in that lifetime, too. Although I did give Cesseer that warning. I didn’t have to do that. I chose to do that, to help her. To give a woman enslaved by a dragon and looking to escape to the stars a chance. So maybe the Grimm Rider had some glimmer, some beginning spark, of what’s grown in me since then.

But I said it back when we saw Baba Yaga’s past. When we learned about her once-friendship with Vigliv, and the way she betrayed the Norn to protect her thread of fate and cement her power and immortality.

I’m not as strong as Baba Yaga. I wouldn’t be able to do that to my closest companions. Not even for immense amounts of power.

I didn’t expect to ever actually be faced with that choice. To actually have it dangled in front of me. It was a theoretical last time I wrote about it.

It isn’t this time.

But I’ll get to that in my next entry. I’m getting tired. Today fucking sucked. I’m rambling, and I think I’ve summarized enough of what we did. I can mention any other important things if they come up. I’m going to plane shift to Abbadon to get my fucking Baykok back (because a daemon plane shifted him there and I only just got the means to get him back. And I fucking hate the piece of shit demilich I took control of to replace him. I also took control of some elephants but those are not practical to take with us so they’re going to guard my demiplane. I have a demiplane now. It’s called Grimm Labyrinthus. I’ll get into it next entry.)

Unfortunately the spell casters around the room (who I’d mistaken for regular Winter Witches when we’d been hanging about the bar, but now as they cast I could see they were actually specialized in summoning. So…Winter Conjurers, I guess.) had shielded themselves from fire and were unaffected by my rain of death, the bouncer leapt out of the way of the flames that tried to devour him with surprising speed and grace that reminded me too much of Cesseer’s manner of fighting, and the Ice Devils resisted some of the flames due to their natural resistances as devils. Being from Hell, and all. Although I kind of figured they’d be from the cold layer of Hell.

Arrows shot through the wall behind me and began picking off the conjurers before they could finish their summoning spells. Aenland clearly got my message that shit was going down.

Immediately after, my partner came flying through the door, and brought his sword up through one of the other casting conjurers. The final one was well within his reach, and as she tried to scramble away and cast her spell, he broke her focus, striking right as she was in the middle of her attempt to cast and making her lose her spell.

The final conjurer scrambled as far from Talsune as she could get, then attempted to cast Phantasmal Killer at Nestian, but he resisted it just fine.

On the other hand, one of the other conjurers didn’t have nearly as much luck surviving Edeya’s Remorseful Killer—he cried out that he should never have joined the Winter Witches and hurt so many people, and then fell dead.

I was feeling good about how this was going—the former queen’s brutish bodyguards were wasting time putting out the fires after revealing their true forms as Ice Onis, and I realized that my flames had by sheer chance been exactly what we needed to stop said Onis’ regeneration. Joseph and Wuso were surrounded by five Ice Devils on stage, but they were holding their own and we weren’t far. The conjurers were all dead except for the one who had fled to the corner of the room. I was feeling confident.

And then Queen Betyrinda pounced at me from across the room with a speed a frozen mummified corpse shouldn’t be able to muster. She stabbed me with her spear, and I felt a dreadful cold try to overtake me. I pushed her away, and the chill didn’t take hold.

I didn’t have time to think about the former queen in front of me, as a different burning cold hit me from across the room. One of the Ice Onis had recovered enough from his time with the fire and decided to get a little revenge by casting Polar Ray at me. I was chilled to the bone—unable to make my muscles work right from the chills. And I was bleeding—profusely. Quite a bit more than I usually do. I heard Edeya say she was coming, but it sounded distant.

I also heard Joseph say he and Wuso needed a little help.

Two birds with one stone.

I stepped back, onto a chair, and then onto a table—carefully avoiding swings of that freezing spear all the way. Safely out of the Crone Queen’s reach, I cast a Mass Inflict Critical Wounds, hitting myself and all of the demons surrounding Joseph and Wuso. Unfortunately, the demons resisted the negative energy with infuriating willpower. But I managed to close some of my wounds, and my head was a little clearer. Enough so that I could properly process it when Edeya got over to me and cast Harm, completely closing any wounds I’d sustained and revitalizing me with the soothing cold of negative energy as opposed to the biting cold the enemies were wielding against me.

With my head clear, I quickened a boneshaker on the Crone Queen, but her resistances blocked it.

Not that it mattered when Talsune’s blade cut clean through her, burning her flesh with his fire breath as he went. She bemoaned that she had wanted to die beautifully.

Too bad. She lost that change when Baba Yaga drained her life from her centuries ago.

The rest was clean up. Aenland felled two of the three onis with his arrows, Nestian took out the bouncer, Joseph and Wuso took care of cleaning up the remaining Ice Devils, and then the final Oni fell to Nestian’s axe.

Joseph went straight to the bar and began preparing drinks for us. I like this man’s priorities.

Unfortunately, we heard a sound outside. A voice, echoing through the streets of Whitethrone.

We had killed another Crone Queen. Elvana had another announcement to make.

We all raced outside. I grabbed Talsune and flew up over the buildings to get a better view. We caught the tail end of the speech as the illusion of Elvanna’s face in the sky addressed the city. Once again, she addressed us at the end. She said that now she was marking our other parent for death—and for those of us who didn’t have a second parent, she had found a suitable substitute.

I want glad we had contacted our families already. Although I do wonder who she might be going after for Aenland—we have no idea, so we have no way of warning them. I wonder who she will target after we’ve killed a third sister. I wonder when she will get the message that all she is doing is making us angry and determined, not scared and broken?

I doubt that she will. Even if she knows, she won’t stop. It’s cathartic to take from your enemy when they’ve taken from your first. It feels good. It’s one of the reasons I like following Norgorber.

Regardless, we went back inside, and accepted the drinks Joseph offered us. He made a toast to his god, and any gods we wanted to give thanks to. Aenland started with cheers to Melani. Nestian echoed that. I made toast to ‘whatever gods would deign to turn their eyes to me’—to the two gods who had turned their eyes upon me.

We drank, and the alcohol caused a warm buzz that felt like rekindled courage. For everyone but Edeya. She got shitfaced from that single drink, despite normally holding her alcohol fairly well. Apparently Joseph’s god wasn’t looking favorably on her. Or maybe he was looking particularly favorably on her—I don’t know how the drunken god works.

We all headed out after that—with Nestian carrying Edeya so she’d make it back to the clocktower safely.

On our way to the base, we passed by the Royal Library. It wasn’t exactly a fortress, and that gave me an idea. I could scout ahead tonight. I told the others to give me a moment. Then I cast the single use of Clairaudience/clairvoyance I had been gifted by the Reaper of Reputation.

I saw inside the entrance of the library. There were a bunch of people who looked like nobility going about their business as if we weren’t under martial law. There were exits to my left and right leading further into the library—but straight ahead was a large gated off area labelled ‘the restricted section’. There was only a single bored looking guard keeping watch. Behind the gate were shelves of books and a stairway leading downwards into the archives. That—I was positive—was where we wanted to go.

I pulled my mind back into myself and told the others what I had seen. The others wondered aloud if we should raid the place tonight now that we had intel, but we all quickly determined that would be a poor decision. Between Edeya being nearly blackout drunk, Joseph and Wuso being a bit battered from fighting all those Ice Devils, and half of my most powerful spells spent, we weren’t in an ideal position to face a third Crone Queen tonight.

I did, however, suggest that when we return, we could likely sneak in disguised as nobility, given what I had seen. I, personally, already had fine clothing from my date with Greta some time back. Nestian could use the Hat of Disguise while in his human form to just make his clothes look nice. Edeya was already someone who had been to this library before and wouldn’t stand out. So all that was left was to get fine clothes for Aenland.

But that was for later, for now we made our way back to the clocktower. Once we were safely in the hideout, Joseph immediately began setting up a bar for the resistance—for morale. Wuso seemed unimpressed with Joseph, but seemed happy to see Solveig again.

We discussed our next step. Aenland and Wuso did what passed for flirting for Aenland. Something along the lines of ‘agreeing to her offer to copulate’.

Sorry not sorry I refuse to believe he has ever actually had sex before talking like that, no matter what he says.

Especially given that he still refuses vehemently to acknowledge that ‘boner’ is not a serviceable word to substitute for ‘necromancer’.

Anyways, when he was done with that…display…he explained to Joseph and Wuso that Vigliv had told him that he needed a blessing from both of them in order to free Xanthadon from the Demon Lord she’s bound to.

And he needed their help in the next 12 hours or so, because he’d promised to help her kill one of Treerazor’s lieutenants in that time.

Unfortunately for our elven companion, neither the cleric nor the warpriest had any idea what he was talking about. They both assured him that they would pray on it, though. Wuso put emphasis on praying on it—given that she worships Calistria, it was clear she meant sating her lust religiously.

I can definitely get behind that. I still say Calistria is the sexiest god to worship, and Wuso has yet to prove me wrong. I mean she fights with a whip for gods’ sake.

Anyways, Aenland told Wuso he’d have to take a raincheck on that ‘copulation’, as she had mentioned that a Desna faithful was in the woods nearby, and perhaps he should talk to them about Xanthadon’s redemption given that the drow had kiiiinda pissed off the goddess of luck and travel when she’d killed one of her clerics and stole some of her power.

So Wuso took Joseph to bed instead. I would say that apparently she doesn’t hate him as much as it first seemed, but I think it’s just that religious hate fucking is right up Calistria’s alley.

I went to bed, and Aenland come back at some point in the night. I didn’t notice when. The only time I was disturbed in my sleep was in the early hours when Talsune had a nightmare. I didn’t see the entire thing, but I got enough flashes to piece together that he’d dreamed about his former rider’s death. When he woke, Talsune was visibly disturbed, and he asked me why Joseph had been in his dreams. He brushed it off, rationalizing that dreams were just scraps of memories woven together irrationally. But it didn’t seem to help, and he couldn’t keep from glaring at the cleric over breakfast.

I mentally told my partner that if he wanted me to off Joseph, all he had to do was say the word. That got a chuckle out of Talsune, and he seemed to loosen up a little.

I’m not wholly convinced that this dream was just a dream, though. When we’d asked about his past Jeseph had said something about how he’d started drinking because he had recurring nightmares, and drank to dull the nightmares, and that’s how he found his god. It seems like an odd coincidence that now, the day that he arrived, my partner would suddenly start having nightmares with him in it.

I suppose I’m lucky it wasn’t me, given that I touched his mind with my helm’s telepathy. If his nightmares are contagious or something, you’d think that’s the sort of thing that would spread it. Or maybe it did, but it seeped over to Talsune since our minds are connected. I don’t know…but I’m considering confronting the man if it happens again. People can have their secrets, Norgorber knows I do. But when they start affecting my people, my friend, that’s when those secrets become my business.

For now, however, I said nothing. We ate breakfast in peace—until Xanthadon appeared while Nestian was passing out flapjacks. She was going to take Aenland to face the Rancorous Wrath, Vamollaroth.

As they prepared to leave, Nestian blurted out a request to let us go as well.

Aenland had told us the night before that we couldn’t go. That he didn’t want to upset Xanthadon by even asking. He believed she was so focused on their revenge that she would see it as an insult or something, despite the fact that more hands would mean a better chance at procuring that vengeance.

Nestian decided to go to Xanthadon directly despite this.

Xanthadon seemed taken aback, but said she was fine with it, under one condition—she turned to Aenland and asked him if he was okay with it.

Aenland admitted what I said above, the he’d only told us no because he’d believe Xanthadon would be upset over the decision. Xanthadon told him that she would do anything to have her revenge. It had simply never occurred to her to ask the rest of us—but if we were willing to help, she appreciated the extra might against her enemies.

Xanthadon did note upon looking us over that I no longer held her rapier—Aenland did. I shrugged it off, telling her I wasn’t much of a sword user and figured he’d put it to better use. Xanthadon agreed that I wasn’t one for a sword, and said I was too much like ‘Fielder’ —there was a touch of scorn in her voice at the mention of Master Keisuke’s pseudonym. Still, I accepted her words, agreeing without missing a beat that I was, in fact, much like Master Keisuke. But, I added, the others hated him at least as much as she did, so she was in good company.

There was no more need for words—and no more time for it. We gathered together, and Xanthadon cast Greater Teleport to send us deep into the nearby forest. To where Treerazor’s lieutenant awaited.

The demon was a hezrou, a great frog-like demon with a thick hide—but one that had grown large and bloated with power. It towered over us, its head in the canopy. Below it, a horde of slimy Omox demons and bat-like Nebasu demons writhed and surged towards us. Water appeared before the Omoxes, conjured by four black armored demonic knights who stood to the side of the oversized hezrou.

Nearby, something nearly as large as the Rancorous Wrath lumbered from the trees. Something humanoid, but made entirely of a writhing fungus that was moving of its own accord. Xanthadon called this creation her ‘Fungal Kyonin’.

I can’t imagine what might have been going through Aenland’s head, hearing his homeland’s name stuck on this monstrous idol to a Demon Lord.

I didn’t have time to ask, as the demons currently before us began their assault, and Xanthadon retreated into her ‘Fungal Kyonin’ to begin the counter attack.

Aenland drew the twin rapiers he’d gotten from Xanthadon—one shining and powerful, the other dull and cursed—and charged forward at the nearest Nebasu. At the same time Nestian ran forward and brought his axe down on another Nebasu.

Unfortunately, it seemed the demons had expected our duo to run forward, leaving myself and Edeya exposed as the two casters. The Omoxes disappeared into the swampy water, and resurfaced right up in our faces. Three demons—far too close for comfort. And I knew if they grabbed me, getting any spellcasting done would be neigh impossible. That had to be their plan.

They never got a chance. I raised up a hand and called down fire from the sky—striking every one of my enemies with a Fire Storm, except for the Nebasu and Vamollaroth himself. One Omox died, and the other two were singed. Talsune followed up with a number of deadly sword swings, which destroyed the Omox nearest Edeya. Only the one nearest me remained. I cast an Inflict Critical Wounds and leapt at the ooze-like demon, sending negative energy through it.

Despite everything, it remained standing.

I heard the sounds of combat from where Nestian and Aenland were. Most of their enemies had fallen—but from nowhere a Marilith appeared and attacked Nestian. Aenland darted past, making a beeline for the demonic knights—who had put out the fires blazing around them and I suspect summoned the snake demon given how Aenland had zeroed in on them.

And the giant Hezrou was being handily distracted by Fungal Kyonin, which had opened its mouth and was shooting it. I saw through Talsune’s sharp eyes that the projectiles were arrows, which struck the demon and left fungas growing in the wounds in its wake.

And in that mouth…the were figures. Not just Xanthadon. But long-limbed graceful archers. Beings made entirely out of fungas…or covered and devoured by the mushrooms so totally that there was nothing left. And that shape, that grace with a bow…I had only seen it once before. It was identical to Aenland.

I didn’t have more time to consider this, however, as more Omoxes appeared from the water around me and Edeya. I called down a second Fire Storm—this time catching every remaining enemy, including the Rancorous Wrath. Fire danced across his hide and caught, blazing, burning, peeling away flesh down to the muscle, down to the bone.

Talsune took care of the remaining Omoxes, his sword slicing through boiling ooze. The Marilith was gone—I assume banished once Aenland killed the remaining demonic knights, as their bodies were piled in a charred and bloody heap where they had stood.

Aenland and Nestian went for the giant Hezrou. Aenland stabbed Treerazor’s lieutenant once with the cursed blade, and a flurry of strikes with the empowered blade. Then he threw the blades up—sticking them deep into the demon’s hide, like hand holds. Neatian leapt up, and used the blades as a ladder to propel himself up above the canopy—up above the demon’s head. He came down hard as a boulder down a mountain—going straight into the demon’s mouth. And then he cut through, out the other side with the axe, the momentum sending him straight to the ground, which nearly buckled from the impact.

The giant bloated form of the demonic lieutenant fell. Much of the body began turning to dust before our eyes. But the places where Fungal Kyonin’s arrows had struck true—where mushrooms had taken root and were devouring the flesh and bone—those parts of the body remained. And the fungal giant began making its way towards us. As it did, it shrank. Until is was nothing but a writhing, broiling, patch of fungus that darted across the ground like some kind of alien entity. It reached the remains of Vamollaroth. And devoured what was left.

Xanthadon approached us. And she wasn’t alone. Around her were those fungal archers. Seeing them this close, there was no denying what they were. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say what they had been—before Xanthadon got her hands on them. They were elves. Kyonin elves.

Fortunately, that is not how it went. Nestian was there, and while he took a bit of a beating (I had to cast Restoration twice—once for him and once for Aenland, due to the spirits’ life draining effects), he was in one piece. Enough to be embarrassed and try to make an escape when Aenland and I implied that Edeya’s parents were his future in-laws.

As we talked, I mentioned casually that I thought that Elvanna was more afraid of us than she let on. The others agreed, but Nestian asked what made me say that. So I told them about my little venture into Abaddon to meet with Queenie. Edeya joked around, jabbing at me asking if I’d betrayed them. She obviously knew better. None of the others even insinuated that I would have considered it.

Funny. When did it get to that point? A few months ago I would have sacrificed Aenland to a talking tree for safe passage in a heartbeat—or for no reason at all, really. He was unbearable back then. I’m actually fond of that idiot now, even if he still grinds on my nerves sometimes, it’s in a less…volatile way. Nestian was just kind of a stick in the mud who I vaguely appreciated having a mindboggling protective streak. Now…I don’t know. Things are a bit complicated where Nestian is concerned, considering my master killed his father. But I respect the way Nestian always moves forward with what he believes and doesn’t let anything dissuade him once he’s set his mind to something if he believes it’s right and good. I might not care about all that moralistic stuff, but I can appreciate how much it takes a person to stick to their principles. I don’t have any, and it’s easier that way, but I know Nestian’s are important to him, even when they are utterly baffling to me. So I am…trying to respect them.

Edeya was the only one I liked from the start. My fellow Irriseni, a would-be Winter Witch who threw away centuries of tradition to walk her own path. It figures that I’d like her. It helps that before she took up her new semi-pacifist ideals, we tended to see eye-to-eye the most out of the group (now strangely it’s Aenland who tends to see things my way most often). Not that I told her everything. I do worship Norgorber—a few secrets are mine to keep.

Except for Greta. I’ll let her in on my secrets.

…

I miss Greta.

On our way to the rebels’ hideout, I cast Sending as we flew invisibly towards the clocktower. I asked Greta if she was okay and where she was. She replied immediately and confirmed she was okay. She didn’t confirm where she was, but instead apologized for fake dating someone whose name got cut out of the Sending as she ran out of words.

I’m glad she’s okay…I wish we weren’t running around so much right now. I’d like to try to find out where she is and meet up with her. Get her out of whatever situation she’s stuck in. Meet her ‘boyfriend’.

I’m not jealous, that’s ridiculous, Greta is free to do as she pleases. I’d be a damned hypocrite if I got possessive of Greta when I already introduced Cesseer into our relationship.

Aaaaand Edeya and I may have fake dated while Greta was away too, so we’re even anyways.

We arrived to the clocktower not long after that. We landed silently in the overlook where we’d once slain Logrivich—and where I’d made my favorite skeleton. We found the trapdoor leading down locked, and no one responded when Nestian tried knocking—because of course he did.

I think he just thinks it’s funny at this point.

No. Maybe if it were Aenland. Nestian just genuinely considers it the best course of action because he hasn’t died yet from all the times a door’s swung open and someone’s swung a weapon at him shortly afterwards.

I mean, I suppose if it works it works. But if he dies from it one of these days his girlfriend is reviving his ass, not me.

I used the Chime of Opening to unlock the trapdoor (it worked on the first try for once—good thing, I get a feeling it doesn’t have many uses left in it), and we piled down to the floor below. Where we’d once meet the captive singer Bella Belvorica.

Nestian began making a beeline for a bookshelf by the far wall. When Aenland dropped to the floor, he drew his bow and an arrow in one swift action, whispering something to his arrow as he drew it back, then released it. It shot past Nestian and straight through the bookshelf—which vanished as the illusion making it appear there was dispelled, as was an Explosive Rune behind it.

Behind there the bookshelf had been was an opening that appeared to have been created with Stoneshape, which led into a passage containing a spiral staircase leading down, deep down below the clocktower.

We followed the staircase to the bottom and came upon a large set of rooms that appeared to be made for a decent sized force.

But there was only one man there, who seemed particularly jumpy. However he seemed familiar with Aenland, and he accepted our explanation when we told him that Edeya’s parents were former Winter Witches and were harmless.

The rebel was awaiting the return of Solveig, who was still alive and their leader it would seem.

Unfortunately, a moment later another rebel came in with some scouts, and reported breathlessly that Solveig, Bella, and Donya has all been captured and were going to be executed imminently. Scout…the scout…directed us to where they were to conduct the execution, and we raced out.

We made it just in time. We split up to pincer strike the Winter Witches, with Talsune, Roscoe, Aenland, Nevra, and I swooping down from behind where the captives were tied. On the opposite side Nestian and Edeya would run in.

And we got some unexpected help. As the winter sorcerers who were acting as executioners readied their spells to end our allies’ lives, a woman with unusually colored skin stepped from a building and raised what looked like a gun but sleeker—almost like something you’d see on a Dominion ship, minus organic bits. When she fired it, an X was burned into the face of one of the sorcerers and then his head exploded.

It was spectacular.

That was our cue to swoop in. Aenland began firing, taking out one of the sorcerers immediately before they could get their wits about them. Talsune and I flew low over the heads of the captives and landed just in range for Talsune to run a blade through another sorcerer, and I crushed her bones in the same moment. I’d heard the woman with the gun mention that the sorcerers had put up fire protection and that was going to be an issue for her. So looked like it was going to be up to us to cut through them.

I didn’t have a problem with that. I was feeling bloodthirsty.

As Nestian darted onto the battlefield, bringing his axe down on the final sorcerer, the ground began shaking. A reverberating rumbling came, growing closer—enormous footfalls. Then an unbelievably large Rune Giant cressed the horizon, lumbering towards us. It was here to do Queen Elvanna’s bidding.

She had told me that she *was* Irrisen. Apparently the Rune Giants, at least, agree.

Unfortunately for the guardian of Irrisen, we had Aenland. And faced with the archer, the giant was slain with his usual brutal efficientness—just a hunter felling another beast.

While Nestian and Aenland were dealing with that, Talsune and I had lined up the remaining four Winter Witches and caught them in a deadly mix of flame breath and Mass Inflict. They were still standing, so I quickened a Boneshaker on the nearest for good measure. It was maybe a little petty—that particular spell caster had tried to polymorph me into a sheep a moment prior. And one of her buddies had tried the same on Talsune. But we’d both resisted—me with the help of the barrier of fate Vigliv had woven around us, and Talsune through sheer force.

Two of the Winter Witches stepped out of formation, one aiming what looked like another polymorph, but whoever he aimed at clearly resisted because none of us randomly became sheep or whatever. The other one caught Nestian, Nevra, and Aenland in a Cone of Cold. A moment later they, too, had arrows sticking from them.

Talsune slashed through the final Winter Witch, and when I saw she was still alive on the ground, just barely, I cast another Boneshaker to smother the last sparks of life in her.

Another life snuffed out.

I didn’t feel much better. I still missed Greta, and in the back of my mind I was thinking about needing to contact our families to warn them about Elvanna’s threats. It was hard to savor the deaths of a bunch of nobodies right that moment.

While we’d been dealing with the witches and giants and such, the prisoners had been escaping from their bonds. They were mostly all out once the battle was over. The woman was helping Donya with the last of his binds, and Solveig and Bella were already free.

The woman with the strange gun that could pop people’s heads introduced herself as Zernebeth. Now that I got a better look at her, not in battle, I also saw that one of her arms was like a construct’s arm, entirely made of metal. Either that or it was a very strange very flexible gauntlet that covered her entire arm. But seeing as she soon enough told us she had come to Irrisen from Numeria, I think it’s safe to say her arm is technological. One of the strange wonders hoarded by Numeria’s Technic League.

We quickly departed from the scene of the deaths of eight agents of the crown—after I used Decompose Corpse to make them all into much harder to identify skeletons (and perhaps giving a silent nod to the Pallid Princess, in making the bodies decay away). We reconvened back at the rebel base. Edeya’s parents had made themselves at home, having chosen a room for themselves from the ones available. Solveig told us she would have something she needed to go over with us, but she wanted to give us a little time to gather ourselves first.

So I took the moment to take stock of our new acquaintance—possibly ally. I asked her what her story was. After all, it’s not every day a blue one-armed lady pops up and starts shooting Winter Witches to save a bunch of rebels from execution. She must have a reason to be helping us.

Zernebeth was very open with us that she was a former captain of the Technic League, which she called a ‘vile organization’. We let her know we’d had some indirect dealings with them, as Queen Elvanna had been working with that raptor looking man at Artrosa. Zernebeth looked mildly disgusted with the idea of the person, identifying him as ‘Prosser’, and stating that explained where he had been. She confirmed that he was a terrible person. But, she also told us that the Technic League likely didn’t exist anymore as of two days ago.

Apparently the king of Numeria, one Kevoth-Kol, had been woken from his drug induced stupor and he’d done away with the Technic League who had been controlling things in his absence.

Now apparently an elite task force was being sent into a mountain at the capital of Numeria to deal with a different potentially world ending threat than the one we’re dealing with, with Elvanna. So if they fuck up, we could do everything right and save the world from being frozen over just to have whatever they’re fighting take control of the entire world. Apparently.

Not a very reassuring thought, but Zernebeth said not to worry about it. She seemed very confident in the abilities of the people handling it. So I suppose I’ll just have to trust they’re competent and won’t fuck this up for everyone.

I suppose they could say the same about us, but I’m confident in our ability to see this through, so I’m not worried on our end. I just don’t like the idea of leaving my potential life or death or freedom or whatever in the hands of utter strangers I don’t even know the capabilities of.

Zernebeth doesn’t seem worried though, and she seems like an intelligent woman—joining an ill-fated league of technofascists aside.

Zernebeth told us she would not be of much help to us at the moment—she was a powerful wizard, but she was currently sans her spellbook. If she could get that back she’d be a force to be reckoned with. For now she just had that blaster gun thing, which apparently had limited uses. I asked Aenland about the guns we’d collected for the rebels, thinking we could give one to her, but apparently he handed them off to Nadya before they separated, and we hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her since then.

In fact, all of our companions who weren’t our core ‘four riders’ were missing. Nadya, Greta, Jadrenka, Cesseer, Anastasia, and Dimitri were all missing without a word.

According to the two rebels Aenland had saved, those who were with them seemed to hear something and then gathered up all the guns they had brought and left for somewhere without an explanation. It sounds like they received a Sending. We’re theorizing it was from Jadrenka, because they were seen leaving with a black-haired half-elf woman—and with her skills Jadrenka could have easily switched out her Winter Witch disguise for a half-elf form to continue keeping a low profile.

Aenland suggested we Sending them. I told the others I could, but I had been planning on saving my uses of Sending today so we could all contact any family members Elvanna might be targeting to warn them. Nestian pointed out that our companions might be in more immediate danger. He said that if it came down to it, he would give up his uses of Sending.

Why does he always do that? Put others first and give up things? Doesn’t he ever get frustrated giving and giving and letting himself get hurt for others and never letting anyone else do the same for him? I don’t understand him. I just don’t.

I agreed, however, since clearly this is what everyone else wanted. We’d do it after we’d talked to Solveig.

Zernebeth seemed legitimately remorseful for the things she’d done in the past. Apparently, whoever was in this elite team had really made an impression on her. She told me that she first thing she was going to do when she got her spellbook back was make it up to Donya—she even had the diamond for it already.

The implication was clear. And that’s, I think, all the motivation any of us need to get her spellbook back. As if getting the help of a powerful wizard wouldn’t have been motivation enough.

That haunt we’d seen all those months ago, of the child who Nazhena had murdered…that all could be wiped away.

Zernebeth said she hoped even though redemption was dead, she could do this much. I told her she didn’t need gods to seek redemption. That’s a bunch of bullshit. If you want to be better, you do it. You don’t wait for a god to tell you it’s time, that’s lazy, that’s just making excuses.

Zernebeth seemed to like that.

As for me…I hope that bringing back that kid will smooth over the lingering sickness I feel every time I think about having worked with Nazhena—even if I only did it to get to Elvanna. I don’t know what all I did back then, how much I helped her when I pretended to be her friend, how much I got my hands dirty to keep the mask firmly in place. I know myself. I know if I had a role to play and I needed to not get caught under any circumstances then I would do whatever I had to in order to play the part—although I might have also done whatever I could to undermine her where possible when in her blind spots.

But since I’ll probably never get my memories back at this point, I’ll never know exactly what I did while rubbing elbows with the most vile people in Whitethrone. I could probably ask Baba Yaga…but I don’t know that hearing it would help any. It’s not productive.

I left Zernebeth to tinker with her gun thing. Aenland went off with Nevra somewhere, and Nestian told Edeya maybe she should go talk to her parents. She agreed, and grabbed Illivor to go catch up with the family she hadn’t seen in years. It’s hard to imagine what she must be feeling right now. I don’t know what I’d been feeling in her shoes.

Nestian and I were alone in the main meeting room. Nestian told me that he had something he needed to talk to me about. He explained there was something he’d left out from his story about meeting his mother’s Eidolon.

When he’d been returning back to reality from wherever he’d met this being, for a moment he saw many white tails.

We only know one person with multiple white tails. Especially someone connected to Nestian’s family in any way.

Nestian told me he’d originally come to the decision that he wasn’t going to kill Master Keisuke. Because I cared about him. He didn’t feel like revenge was worth hurting a friend by taking someone away from them.

But, he said very seriously, if Keisuke has his mother and she’s in danger, he will kill him. That’s different. That’s not revenge. He will do whatever he has to, to protect her. To save her.

I told Nestian I understand, and that he should do what he thinks is right—regardless of how I feel about it. He should go with what he feels he should do.

I’m never going to be happy about having to fight Master Keisuke. I’m never going to want it to come to that. But I understand…to an extent. I don’t understand Nestian foregoing revenge—that’s something I would personally never do. If someone killed a member of my family I would hunt them down and kill them, and if I were feeling particularly vindictive I’d kill their close family too—first, before I kill them, so they’d have to see it. And I don’t put nearly as much weight on family as Nestian does. That’s why Elvanna had better be ready for a storm if she actually touches my family, because she’s not going to break me that way, she’s just going to make me want to be more creative in the ways I kill her and perhaps ways to make her afterlife torment.

…I wonder if a wish that would affect Elvanna’s afterlife would count as a wish for my benefit…I could get very creative with ways to hurt her with a wish…

No I’m not wasting a wish on her.

Anyways…

I don’t understand him foregoing revenge. But I understand that he needs to save his mother. If someone I cared about were in danger, or harmed, I would tear whoever had caused that apart—and I expect no less from others.

Nestian seemed to accept my response. He asked me if I knew where Master Keisuke might be keeping his mother. The only place I could think of was the Nonagon—but if she was there then we had no way to get to her, its wards were far too powerful to try to brute force our way past from what I’d seen the one time I’d been there. I told him I knew of one place, but I didn’t know what the chances were he was holding her there, and if she was there I didn’t have any way to get there. I did tell him that if he wanted me to try speaking to Master Keisuke—maybe gather some information subtly—I can Send him without using any spells, so that option is always open. For the time being, he wanted to be more certain of things before he went that route.

That’s fine, although I will have to Sending Master Keisuke soon enough. He’d requested I reach out when I get back to Golarian. Once I’m not running around like crazy I intend to do so.

Solveig gathered us up shortly after Nestian and I spoke. She told us about the fact the rebels were fairly scattered at the moment—currently it was just the small handful they had here. The Iron Guard had been utterly decimated in the early days of the rebellion, and the other followers of the Everbloom had been scattered to the winds when the last base was compromised. Fortunately for them, Solveig had been granted a vision ahead of time by their patron deity and was able to evacuate and set up shop elsewhere for the handful she was able to track down again—but most of the rebels were scattered.

As for the Crone Queens, they had split Whitethrone amongst themselves and now most of them spent their time in fortified strongholds across the city. Only two could be found outside of strongholds: Vain Betyrina would flit from one social event to another—and kill anyone who dared comment on her desiccated visage—and Desperate Velikas controlled the Royal Library, which was surprisingly still accessible to the public.

The Royal Library was also where Zernebeth’s spellbook would be.

Solveig told us she would have a mission for us later tonight, but we’d have some time to rest before then. She had two powerful associates coming into town we needed to meet up with. A cleric of Cayden Cailean and a warpriest of Calistria. They would be arriving to a Winter Witch bar late this evening. And she expected a fight to break out—apparently trouble had a tendency to follow them.

I asked if a Winter Wolf would be out of place in this bar, and Solveig said they would not be—in fact the prince of the Winter Wolves and his entourage drank there sometimes. I filed that away for later. That would be perfect. I hadn’t planned on using the Rimepelt again without Greta’s go-ahead, but this was not the sort of situation to get caught up in thoughts like that. I was too recognizable without a disguise—and given my skin’s pallor it would take a lot of time and make up to make a passable disguise for me. But I was also the best at talking us into places (and talking us out of trouble). I could use the hat of disguise, but with Winter Witches anyone could have True Seeing on, or a dragon around, or a summon with True Seeing—relying on an illusion was a risk. The Rimepelt was a true transformation—looks, scent, and all from what Greta and Nestian have said. It would be a lot harder for someone to see through that disguise—especially since I know Winter Wolves intimately well at this point.

So we decided that I would go in with Nestian and Edeya, while Aenland, Nevra, Talsune, and Roscoe would wait for a signal on the roof across the street.

But that would come later in the evening.

As we split up to rest, I brought up the Sending spells again. I thought it would be a good idea to message the people who were in danger now. Nestian thought we should start with our missing companions. I agreed seeing as this seemed to be what everyone else wanted.

First I messaged Anastasia—my logic being she was a fairly clear-headed woman, on top of the fact that we desperately needed to know where the heir to the throne was. I asked her very basically where she was and what the plan was.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t taken into account one thing when choosing Anastasia as my target: she doesn’t know anything about magic. Not even the basics everyone in Golarian learns at a young age. Like the fact that a Sending is only 25 words long. (Unless you’re me or Master Keisuke and can bend those rules a little, but that’s a whole different story.)

I had to force me message through some resistance—the feeling of sending a message between planes. So that told us one thing: she was somewhere that wasn’t on this plane.

When Anastasia replied, she rambled on, and only got a little bit of actually relevant information to me. Namely that Baba Yaga had given her instructions to go to some sort of cache, and she didn’t know where she was exactly.

We figured based on what we knew, it was likely that Dimitri, Nadya, and Jadrenka were all with Anastasia. Which meant since I’d already checked in with Greta, only Cesseer was unaccounted for.

Aenland left, uninterested in hearing how Cesseer was doing, because he’s still being a total brat about monks. I messaged Cesseer and received a much more succinct answer from her. I could tell she was still on this plane. And she answered that the mirror had sent her to some sort of arena, possibly a jail of some kind. She was having to fight to survive. She was going to try to bust out when the opportunity presented itself. She was as okay as she could be.

So that’s…not optimal, but she’s in her environment, at least. She’ll be fine until we can find her, I don’t doubt that for a moment.

I conveyed this to Nestian, then asked him if he would like for me to message one of his family members. He told me that Aenland and I still needed to contact our families—he would go after us. I told him he doesn’t always have to sacrifice himself and put others first in every little thing. Nestian argued that his family could take care of themselves the best of ours—my family were just average people, innkeepers not fighters or magic users, not in any way prepared to defend themselves, and Aenland’s mother was in a fragile state. Nestian’s family were bears, and Peanut was apparently a powerful druid in his own right, so they were the best protected.

I wanted to argue. Not because he was wrong but because it bothers me that he keeps doing this. But I didn’t have an argument for that—he was right, loathe as I was to admit it. So instead I took a seat and cast Sending—channeled through the pocket watch for the final time I could this day, to steal away as many words as I could for this message.

To my mother.

I know myself. I wouldn’t have contacted my parents in the last year. The things I had gotten myself into weren’t for them—the life of a partially-undead double agent serving Baba Yaga was an entirely different world from the simple life of an innkeeper my parents were living. It would have been dangerous for them to even know about most of what I was doing. And how would I have explained it anyways?

So I knew as I cast the spell that this would be the first time my mother heard from me in over a year. With no idea I’d been through two deaths, a bout of amnesia, and made the deal to be one of Baba Yaga’s riders twice over in that time.

“I’m sorry I haven’t reached out. I’m fine, but you both need to take shelter. Ustalav was not far enough, Elvana has set her eyes on you.”

It was the best I could do with the words I had.

It only took a moment before I received a reply. I heard a voice I hadn’t heard since leaving for Irrisen, over a year ago. It only felt like a few months ago with my memory loss. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“Calio, it is good to hear from you. We will take shelter in our way. We have enough money for a wand. Will Send if anything occurs.”

That was good. That was exactly what I needed to hear. A tension curling inside that I had barely registered lessened slightly. Slightly. They weren’t safe yet—merely informed. My parents—and my friends’ parents—would not be truly safe until Elvanna had been dethroned.

Nestian pointed me in the direction of Aenland—because of course Aenland had to go first—so I made my way up to the roof where Aenland and Nevra were talking. Nevra asked me about Cesseer, so I told her what I’d learned. Then I told Aenland that I’d finished contacting my mother, and asked him if he’d like to reach out to his.

Aenland gave a bitter laugh and said that even if she were no longer comatose, she wouldn’t want to hear from the runaway who got her husband and favorite daughter killed.

I had nothing to say to that. I don’t know his mother. I couldn’t deny his assumption about how she’d feel, for all I knew he was right. I suppose I could have pointed to the fact he left to get a weapon to end Treerazor’s life rather than ‘running away’, but what difference would those semantics make?

Nevra filled the silence by suggesting we reach out to a Huntmaster instead. So that at least someone was informed of the danger. Aenland reluctantly agreed, and gave me some long-winded elven name with FAR too many titles, which took the combined brain power of both me and Talsune to even try to remember. I’ve already forgotten it. Huntmaster Grell Sun-something-something-shadows-and-something-about-leaves. Anyways I remembered it well enough at the time to get the Sending through. I warned the Huntmaster that foreign assassins from Irrisen’s current regime were targeting Aenland’s family, and to be on the lookout.

I got a very rude reply. This man is fortunate he is all the way in Kyonin, or I would have taught him some manners. He said he doesn’t know who I am, and he doesn’t know why anyone would target Aenland’s family—said in a tone that very much implied he didn’t think highly of my friend. But he agreed to be on guard.

I don’t know if I believe that he will take the threat seriously, given his tone. But I told Aenland that the Huntmaster was informed and would be on guard—and left out how rudely he’d reacted to Aenland’s name.

Aenland apologized for being such a downer. So I told him that he carries his sadness better than most people.

Hell, if he hadn’t said what he did, I wouldn’t have realized just how much all of this weighed on him. He always seems so above it all, so chipper and quick to bounce from one thing to another. It’s easy to forget that his father and sister were killed by Treerazor’s minions, and his mother left comatose. He doesn’t stew in it—at least not openly. If it were me, I’d be consumed by it. I’d throw everything I was into destroying Treerazor and getting sweet vengeance. I don’t think I’d be able to swallow down my anger in the way he somehow masks his sadness behind such a jovial persona.

I don’t know if I said the right thing. He seemed…confused, maybe? I don’t know. Edeya, or even Nestian, would have been better suited for this conversation than me. I don’t know how to comfort people, it’s like speaking a foreign language I never learned and I can’t cast tongues to cheat my way through it. I’ll make observations or point out facts, and sometimes I can think of an observation that might help deescalate someone’s emotions like I did for that lovely gentleman who was going to shoot himself in front of my friends. But comforting someone, trying to just make them feel better, whispering empty promises that everything will be alright and things will get better and ‘you’re going to be okay’, as if you can know that…that isn’t me. I prefer to act and to fix things than to talk about feelings.

As far as Aenland goes, fixing things could either be seeing his mother alive and well—which isn’t a guarantee. Or killing Treerazor and getting his much-deserved revenge. That second one, at least, I can help with. If he doesn’t just run off to do it with his mushroom girlfriend without any help from the rest of us, that is.

Anyways, once I was done Sending the Huntmaster, I returned to Nestian. I told him I had sent every single person we needed to Send except for anyone Nestian wanted to contact. I had two uses of the spell left, just for him.

First Nestian contacted Peanut. He asked for his mother’s and her Eidolon’s names, and let them know she was in danger. Peanut replied that Nestian’s mother’s name was Hilda and the Eidolon was Jiji. There were apparently quite the pair.

Then Peanut told us that he was going to be in town in two days—and that he was finishing this.

Those last words had a biting air of finality to them, and I felt like they were partially aimed at me. Or perhaps, more accurately, at Master Keisuke.

I told Nestian exactly what Peanut told me, not leaving anything out. Then I suggested since he knew his mother’s name now, he could use the final Sending to try to reach out to her.

After some hesitation—some worry she wouldn’t know who he was—he agreed.

He sent a message informing her that it was a message from her son via a friend, and asking where she was and if she was unharmed.

The Sending was received—I am positive it was received. But something kept the receiver from responding. I passed this information on to Nestian. She was alive, I could tell that much, but something was blocking her off from me.

That was enough for him for now.

We parted ways to rest until our evening mission.

That night we made our way to the Winter Witch’s bar. We ran into a patrol, but nothing we couldn’t handle—just some shapechanging golem in the shape of one of the Crone Queens, a couple of ice elementals, and some sorcerers. We got the drop on them and dispatched them without breaking a sweat.

As we neared the bar, I activated the Rimepelt and returned to the Winter Wolf form I’d used last time we’d been in White Throne. I wished it was Greta on my arm instead of Edeya—not that Edeya isn’t a lovely woman, she is incredibly attractive as well. But Greta would have loved kicking up some trouble in a Winter Witch bar.

At Nestian’s suggestion, Edeya and I were pretending to be together, while Nestian—in human guise—played the role of our bodyguard. Edeya joked about me seducing her away from Nestian, but quickly dropped it, saying she was sorry but Nestian was more her type.

I would hope so, seeing as Nestian is literally her boyfriend.

Not that I’d say no if the idea of having a third were ever floated, but neither of them strike me as the sorts who are into that sort of thing.

Anyways, we walked right up to the bouncer like we belonged there. He stopped us, noting that he’d never seen us around before. I told him that I was just in from Red Tooth. Edeya added that she was showing me the sights. Nestian remained silent—the picture of a strong and stoic bodyguard.

The bouncer gave us a once over, then stepped aside. He let me know that some of the patrons were a bit jumpy about Winter Wolves being in their wolf form in the bar, so it would be best if I stayed in human form. Although the venue was a popular place for the prince of the Winter Wolves and his entourage to make an appearance, so Winter Wolves were hardly a rare or unexpected sight there. As we walked past, he asked if we were here for the VIP event. I didn’t dare ask about it and risk blowing our cover, so I simply smiled and said of course.

Our little trio made a bee-line for the bar. I subtly scanned the room as we walked. There were a number of Winter Witches here, as well as an unexpectedly high number of Ice Devils which appeared to be for protection and intimidation purposes. By a back wall there was a curtain that seemed to lead back to some sort of VIP area, and two blonde brutes were standing guard.

In the middle of the bar was a man who seemed to be having an animated conversation with some admirers, a mug of alcohol in one hand and a small glass of wine on the table. I pegged the Caleanite immediately. He looked like a fun guy to have a chat with.

In a dark private corner of the room an elven woman was sitting with a man at her arm. She looked closed off and uninviting.

I knew who I was going to talk to first.

When we got to the bar Edeya ordered herself some wine, and me spiced wine, with a wink saying she knew it was my favorite. She’d taken note of Greta’s preferences, it seemed. I don’t know if ALL Winter Wolves favor spiced wine, necessarily. But I will say I’ve certainly gotten a taste for it, drinking with Greta, so Edeya wasn’t entirely wrong either way.

I took my glass when it was brought to me, and then made my way to the Caileanite’s table, taking a seat across from the man without waiting for an invitation. The man greeted me jovially, introducing himself as Joseph Molot, and I greeted him in kind, noting that he seemed to be the life of the party. We had a little back and forth—it may have dipped into a hint of flirting, it’s a bar these things happen—but it was purely for show, to keep suspicions low—as I reached out to his mind and telepathically told him that I knew he was here for the resistance. His grin grew at that, as he responded by saying his ‘little flower’ was reaching out.

He sent his admirers away, telling them to go ahead and get another drink at the bar. I asked him what brought him here, exactly? He told me that he knew that the big man himself was going to be here, so this is where he was going to be. He asked, what about me? Did I ‘ride’ here? I gave a sharp grin at how much he knew—or had surmised—and confirmed his guess.

Then Joseph decided he was going to stir up the hornet’s nest a bit. Make things a little more interesting before we left. He got up onto the stage, where some band or another was playing, and clinked his glass to get the room’s attention as he made a toast. He toasted to this fine city, thank goodness the riots had been quelled so soon so they could keep the downtrodden populace beneath them. And to Queen Elvanna—may she choke on her own blood.

I couldn’t help but grin at the immediate effect that single curse had on the room. Everyone froze. The Winter Witches rose from their seats, hands going to their wands. The two blonde brutes began cracking their knuckles. The Ice Devils didn’t seem to react—but I suspected they were buzzing with anticipation as well. I stood, drinking down the last of my wine and then dropping the glass to the floor as Joseph asked if it was something he said.

No one knew I was on his side yet. I could work this to my advantage.

A moment later the woman from the corner of the bar stormed up onto the stage. The woman began telling him off about the things he’d said—saying she couldn’t believe he’d say such things and get everyone all riled up…without her. In the blink of an eye there was a whip in her hand, glowing with some sort of greenish light.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nestian and Edeya approaching me. Nestian was motioning for me to use the Stone of Farspeech. So I did, telling Aenland up on the roof that shit had just gone down. Although I’m sure Talsune was already well aware and on his way to swoop in and join me for this brawl.

Someone charged the stage and all hell broke loose.

And as it did, the curtains to the VIP suite opened.

He asked me what that was, referring to Talsune. He wanted to know why it was alive. I bristled a bit, and informed him that I’d made some allies. He chuckled at this, as if the idea of relying on others was amusing.

Then a second figure appeared. She looked like Edeya. At least her face did. The rest of her was nothing like the woman I knew. She was dressed in shades of red, and slung an arm casually around the Grimm Rider’s shoulders as she cooed playfully that he had at least one ally. At her side was an ashy ghost that must have been her version of Illivor.

This fiery Edeya clapped her hands together and suggested we see who the better man was—have the Grimm Rider and I both select a champion to fight. I agreed without hesitation. I’d taken Cesseer one-on-one, I could take whatever this echo of my past could throw at me.

So I thought.

…I wasn’t ready for just how vindictive I can be.

I said I would represent myself. Because I knew I could handle myself, and unlike Roscoe or Talsune I had the ability to heal myself at my fingertips if things got rough.

The Grimm Rider smirked, like he’d known I was going to do that. He called forward his champion. The doors next to him—hidden behind an illusory wall—opened. And a winter wolf skeletal champion lumbered into the arena.

I was seeing red. One of them laughed, saying it was always more fun to break the spirit first. I don’t know who it came from—I don’t care. I told them they’d made a grave mistake.

They wouldn’t break me. They’d only guaranteed their deaths.

I didn’t care about a fair one-on-one fight anymore. I was going to kill them. Talsune felt my rage and stepped into the arena. Roscoe followed suit.

The false Edeya saw where this was going, and threw a fireball at us—followed by a quickened fireball.

She is definitely not our Edeya.

I followed up on her fiery assault with Horrid Wilting. The necrotic energy took hold in the Grimm Rider, but didn’t seem to touch the false Edeya. I became wary, thinking she might be an undead in disguise.

So instead of aiming for her, I used a quickened Boneshaker to grab the Grimm Rider and pull him from his dais, to the ground beside his twisted creation.

With a better look at the wolf, I could now tell it wasn’t actually Greta. The Rider had carved the deceased winter wolf’s bones to shape the body to be more similar to hers—but I knew her. I knew her shape and how her body moved. This was a twisted facsimile of Greta, nothing more.

That wouldn’t make me kill them less for trying to use her against me.

In response to my anger, Talsune struck out against the reanimated winter wolf, nearly scattering its bones with the blows from his greatsword. One final shot from Rascoe was all it took to sever the necrotic energy holding it together. My Baykok’s other bullets were aimed at the Grimm Rider.

The Rider rose to his feet, clearly incensed at the embarrassment from me tossing him to the ground. Tough shit.

The Grimm Rider tried to ensnare my mind with a spell, but I resisted. The gears in my head turned, quickly. He’d tried to cast Dominate Person. That wasn’t a spell I knew. That wasn’t a spell I could know.

A false Grimm Rider for a false Edeya.

I surmised that he was a type of vampire-like undead that could take on the form of a living creature.

At least they used something better than Nosferatu this time.

The Fiery Edeya cast Fire Storm, engulfing me and Roscoe in flames. Talsune was getting the easy end of this fight with his fire immunity.

Still, it would be over in another moment.

I cast Destruction on my mirror opposite, presenting Norgorber’s symbol for the undead to see in its final moments. The dark flames ripped through it—the form of the Grimm Rider was ripped away, revealing a female undead vampire for just a moment, before it too was wiped from the face of Golarian by the spell, and all that was left were charred ashes on the ground.

I pocketed the unholy symbol, as Talsune flew for the false Edeya. His blade met flesh—or what passed for flesh. She didn’t bleed like a normal creature—something silver oozed from her wounds instead. This was followed by the reverberating bang of Roscoe’s gun, and more holes were ripped in her ragged body.

The fiery Edeya saw which way the winds were blowing, and turned to flee through the door hidden behind an illusion. Talsune’s blade met her flesh one last time as she fled, but it didn’t down her—and she disappeared down the hall. We ran after her, but she darted ahead, until she vanished into a mirror at the end of the hallway.

The mirror had a spell on it, which would teleport us to one specific location. There was only one way to go, and that was forward. So we pressed onward.

And yet as we teleported, I got ripped away from Talsune and Roscoe, and found myself somewhere else. Not where the mirror led. Not at all.

I found myself in a manor in Abaddon.

Awaiting me there was Queen Elvana, of all people.

She said she couldn’t harm me in this place—it was a neutral ground set up so we could talk. She offered me a seat at a table set beneath a large stained glass window. With nothing else to do here but hear her out, I accepted.

She made me an offer: return to working with her, have the hit on my family called off, get special privileges to be as much of a sassy motherfucker as I please without being executed for it, and don’t inevitably die fighting her. She seemed to think the things her mother had offered—namely the wishes—were ridiculous lies she’d filled our heads with. And maybe they are. But why would I trust a woman who already sent me to the chopping block once? And why would she trust me—someone who already spied on her and betrayed her for her mother once before?

I asked her that, and she basically said it was too late to matter. She couldn’t be stopped. This was basically all just a formality.

You know, I don’t doubt that she believes that. But I think she’s full of it. If that were the case, she wouldn’t be trying to remove me from the playing field. No…I think, even if just subconsciously, she can feel the winds shifting. We’re going to dethrone her. No matter how much she thinks she is Irrisen. She’s wrong. A queen can be replaced. She’s just one person, at the end of the day.

I didn’t give my answer immediately, though. Instead, I told her I had one more question. She said it had better be only one more because she was very busy.

Blah blah blah, you were the one who brought me here, don’t start whining about it now.

I asked her why she’d had me kidnapped as a child. She told me that it was an experiment, to see what prolonged exposure to the darkness at the heart of Irrisen did to a person. And judging by my magic, it seems it was a success. Although she admitted my magic could have manifest from other sources—being raised by Master Keisuke or being her mother’s Rider, for instance.

I mulled that over. I already had my answer, but a little suspense never hurt anyone.

I told Queen Elvana that I didn’t give my loyalty easily. And it already belonged to the others.

Like hell they’re ever going to know I said that.

Elvana wasn’t surprised by my response—I’d be a bit disappointed in her if she was. She left, telling me to look around and get used to the scenery because this is where I was going to go when I died.

After she left I just looked at the stained glass and reminded myself that I wasn’t going to die. Ever.

When I turned around, I was in a new room—back in Edeya’s parents’ manor. Back in Whitethrone, on the material plane. I was on Talsune’s back as if we’d never been separated—although when I’d been in Abaddon I hadn’t been able to hear or feel Talsune. It was…empty. I guess I’ve gotten used to him being there, to passively hearing or feeling him mentally. Despite how uncomfortable it was at first.

In front of us was a door with a Symbol of Persuasion etched into it. Without any way to dispel it, I had to just trust in Talsune and I having strong enough wills to resist the magic. So I pushed the door open, and we both did push through the ripple of magic that washed over us.

In the next room was a legion of Mirror Men, waiting for us in front of an enormous mirror, within which Mirror Edeya’s face reflected.

Our Edeya was there too, but before I could call out to her, she was drawn backwards and vanished as a Maze spell was cast on her. The mirrors around the room began to reflect Edeya running through an endless reflective maze. I surmised that this spell was keyed to the giant mirror—if we destroyed it, we’d free Edeya.

Apparently Nestian had the same idea. I hadn’t seen our bear friend enter the room, but I did see him charge across the room to try to smash the mirror—only for his axe to bounce off some sort of barrier.

We needed all the help we could get, and now that we were back on the material plane I pulled out the Stone of Farspeech and contacted Aenland. He was under the impression that we needed to meet at the theatre where Greta and I had our first date, because he’d given Mirror Edeya some false information about where the rebels’ hideout was over Sending. I told him no, he needed to get over here to the manor and help our asses with this fight right now.

Mirror Edeya’s face vanished from the large mirror and appeared in one of the Mirror Men. She could possess them at will. I realized that was dangerous. We needed to get rid of this horde of Mirror Men immediately.

So I took a page out of the Fiery Edeya’s book.

I called down a Fire Storm, incinerating all of the Mirror Men and a false Edeya who looked to be a fully-fledged Winter Witch. The only false Edeyas left were the badly injured Fiery Edeya, and Mirror Edeya, who had reappeared in the giant mirror.

I heard voices shouting from a nearby room. It sounded like they were trying to work out something technical. Then one of the barriers went down. It clicked in my mind—those were Edeyas’ parents. I called to Nestian that it seemed Edeyas’ parents were helping us. I decided I would go try to assist them, as I’d had some talent with magical devices.

As I came to this conclusion, the glass from the shattered Mirror Men rose up from the ground and became a deadly whirlwind of shards, slicing at anyone unprotected. The glass remained hovering in the air, poised to become that storm of death again at any moment.

And six of the Mirror Men were revitalized by a silvery liquid dripping from the giant mirror. I gave Roscoe the order to take them down—and Aenland showed up just in time to help take out the remaining stragglers. At the same time Nestian turned away from the shielded mirror and took down Fiery Edeya.

I healed myself, Talsune, and Roscoe, then Talsune flew me over to the door so I could look into helping with the barrier. While the glass shards outside began whirling again, I helped Edeya’s parents to lower the mirror’s final defenses.

Then I turned just in time to see Nesian launch himself at the mirror, bringing his axe down right in the center of Mirror Edeya’s head. The glass shattered. And behind it was a void of darkness yawning open—another portal. It would take us to Edeya. And to her mirror double.

It was time to finish this.

We all stepped into the swirling darkness, and found ourselves a moment later in a small mirrored space. Our Edeya was there, waiting for us. Specters circled the room, and in the center was a huge ghastly construct made of the malleable material that makes the outer planes—quintessence. Faces pushed out of its form—different faces of Edeya. And beside this twisted being was a version of Illivor made entirely of shattered glass pieced together in a mockery of the human form.

If this Edeya weren’t Queen Elvana’s loyal minion, it would almost be sad what a twisted creature she really was. Almost. But she hurt our Edeya. She tormented us and scried on us and dominated our Edeya’s mind and then threw us into that fucking mirror trap—and I still don’t know where Greta is. I don’t have room in my heart for pity for the likes of her.

But this form of hers was a golem—not something I could work with. The specters, on the other hand, were. So I told Aenland I had a plan to deal with the swarm specters. I was going to throw everything at them.

One of the specters tried to cast Harm on Talsune—unaware of my Oracle’s Vessel cast on him, so the ghost healed my partner instead. Mirror Edeya said something to the specter in response, but her words were unintelligible—everything she said was backwards.

I think I figured out the gist of what she was saying pretty quickly, though, when she stepped forward and cast Heal on me.

That fucking hurt.

And she wasn’t done. I felt as though my life was hanging by a thread as she reached out with a quickened cure spell—and then it fizzled against the light of Vigliv’s protection.

Not today.

Edeya—our Edeya—saw my injuries and quickly came to my aid, hitting me with a Harm spell to offset the damage done by the Heal spell.

I missed Edeya.

Shattered Illivor was unarmed, so she couldn’t interrupt as I cast my own spell. While I was casting, Nevra flew into the middle of the fray, and Aenland began shooting arrows into each of the specters. Then Nevra breathed lightning at the golem.

I activated the magic in the coat I’d taken from Rasputin, then cast through the pocket watch to power up the spell even further. An Ectoplasmic Fire Storm empowered by the pocket watch.

I unleashed the storm of fire—a hurricane of flames burst through the room, with Aenland and Nevra in the eye of the storm. The flames coalesced where the Shattered Mirror Illivor had been—but when the flames cleared there was nothing left—barely even a melted puddle to show she’d been there at all.

Unfortunately, the specters still remained. Their wounds were slowly stitching themselves back together, and they were hardy motherfuckers besides. As Nestian felled Mirror Edeya but the specters remained, I realized it would take electricity to stop the specters’ regeneration.

Nestian hoisted up two Javelins of Lightning he’d gotten forever ago, while I dug out a Scroll of Chain Lightning from the Bag of Holding. I struck four of the six specters with the chain lightning. Two were immediately scattered, while the other two were left vulnerable to Aenland’s arrows a moment later. Nestian threw one Javelin of Lightning at the nearest specter, destroying it, then handed the last to Roscoe. Roscoe threw the Javelin as directed, and the lightning struck true, destroying the last specter.

We all quickly retreated back to the actual manor on the material plane.

There we found Edeya’s parents unconscious on the ground. Edeya checked them, and found internal bleeding. She chuckled darkly as she healed them, saying it was bittersweet. Apparently this was a reaction to them getting the shards of their soul back that they’d given Mirror Edeya to make her. They should be fine.

We prepared to leave, planning to make our way to the rebel base. Which according to Aenland is in Logrivich’s clock tower now. That is hilarious, and I almost wish I had Levi with me just to put Logrivich’s animated skeleton back at the top for a bit, but he’s back in the Dancing Hut and I’m not wasting time going back there just to get Levi.

Apparently Aenland fought a bigger white dragon at the wall of Whitethrone before we all met up and I wish I’d gotten a chance to possibly make that into something, but oh well.

Right now I’m mostly concerned about where Greta and Cesseer are. We didn’t find either of them after leaving our personal mirror hells. Fiery Edeya said Greta was ‘long gone’, whatever that was supposed to mean. I’m going to try Sending her just as soon as we’re on the road on the way to the rebel base.

Anyways, starting from the beginning. We had all gathered in the Dancing Hut, and Baba Yaga had addressed us from within the doll she was still trapped in. She told us to take it easy for a bit—Elvana would be expecting us to come straight to her, so we should take a breather. And besides, Baba Yaga needed some time to recuperate some of her lost power.

After some quite literal slapstick (no one would dare refuse an order from Baba Yaga, which led to Nestian slapping Ratibor at her command, and Edeya slapping me), Zorka took Baba Yaga’s doll with her elsewhere to rest. And the rest of us were left to our own devices.

As we milled about deciding what to do, I took note that the trapdoor leading to Vigliv’s grotto had reappeared. It seemed we were being summoned by the fate weaver, this time at the moment we were meant to have met her.

Before I could take the invitation, Zorka reappeared and tugged on my sleeve, informing me that our boss wanted to speak with me when I had a free moment. That sent an icy chill of dread down my spine. After what Rasputin had told me about my past, I didn’t imagine a one-on-one conversation with Baba Yaga was going to end very well for me. I certainly didn’t imagine I’d be smoothing things over with just words as I had in Iobaria.

However, before I could follow Zorka, Aenland was ushering me over to Vigliv’s trapdoor. I figured since she had said ‘whenever I had a free moment’ that speaking with Vigliv first wouldn’t hurt…and might buy me a few more minutes of precious life.

Vigliv greeted us in her usual subdued manner—but there was an ever-so-slight smile on her lips. She was happy to see us again, safe and in one piece, it would seem. She told us that she had a boon for each of us, and that she could also answer any remaining questions we had. She was more at liberty to speak with us now than before, since we were here at the correct time.

I decided to put my fears to rest with definite confirmation from a reliable source: was Master Keisuke planning to kill me? Vigliv told me he was not.

So there we go, I was just overthinking things and being paranoid.

Nestian went next, asking for confirmation that my master had killed his father. Vigliv confirmed this to be true. So, absolutely no doubt now. Not that I’d really doubted it from the moment Nestian brought it up. I already knew he’d killed a member of Nestian’s family and was from another timeline—If Nestian’s dad was murdered while fleeing another dimension then it all lined up.

Vigliv mused on the fact that we’d both asked about the same person, then turned to Aenland and noted that she believed his question would not be about Keisuke as well. Aenland confirmed, asking her how he could break the hold Xanthadon’s Demon Lord has on her. Vigliv told him to remain after we’d left, and she would walk him through step-by-step how to break his hold over Aenland’s drow girlfriend.

Because that’s totally where this is going, right? He breaks her curse, they both kill Treerazor together, and then they live happily ever after or some shit.

Anyways, Nestian and I took our leave while Edeya was asking her question. After we started leaving the first time and got called back to receive our boons from Vigliv (permanent spell resistance—I’m ready to laugh in Queen Elvana’s face the moment she tries to kill me and her spell fizzles.)

Once Nestian and I reached the landing back up in the cauldron room, Nestian placed a hand on my shoulder. He spoke in a serious tone, telling me there was something important he needed to ask me. I felt my stomach drop, thinking this was going to be another conversation about Master Keisuke and Nestian’s family.

Instead, Nestian asked me how to tell Edeya that he likes her.

I admit, I laughed. Not at his request, but just the relief at it being something so simple compared to what I’d been bracing myself for given his tone. I told him that I don’t really think about it, I just do it. Be confident, be yourself, and if the person in question likes you then they’ll respond in kind.

I should have also told him to under no circumstances use pickup lines. Only people without a personality worth carrying a conversation with use pickup lines. But I’m sure Nestian probably knows better…

Anyways, he thanked me, wrote down some notes in a notepad that was adorably tiny compared to his big bear self, and then he wandered off elsewhere. From what I heard from Greta later, it was apparently to go ask everyone else the same question.

I quickly found that I had no excuse not to go meet with Baba Yaga. As if she knew it, Zorka appeared in the Cauldron Room to ask me where I’d like to meet with our Kindly Grandmother. I had no idea so I chose the skull room, because I like the skull room. Then Zorka sent me on my way to go meet with our boss.

I had never felt so anxious in my life. I’m usually pretty unflappable. But I was certain I was a mouse walking right into the lion’s jaws this time.

When I entered the skull room, Baba Yaga asked me if I’d chosen that room to rub it in her face how we’d freed the doll she’d spent centuries torturing—or if I hadn’t considered that and just chose it for the aesthetic. I very honestly told her I’d just chosen it because it fit my aesthetic. Her tone cheered tremendously as she said that was the right answer.

Then she said some things about ‘our plan’, before asking why, exactly, she was still in a doll.

I pointed out that I have amnesia and did not fully comprehend what she was talking about. I had no idea what plan she was talking about, or where exactly it had gone wrong.

She asked if that, perhaps, had anything to do with me fucking her son. I quietly confirmed that might have had something to do with it.

She seemed to calm down, and she asked if I would like for her to shed some light on things, so that I would understand. I agreed. I would very much like to know what had happened to me.

Baba Yaga told me she would start at the beginning—in this case, when I had died the first time, although she noted that she could start with my birth if she wanted. She was aware of me and my childhood in Irrisen, although not even she fully comprehended whatever darkness I had been born with—whatever it was, it was a part of Irrisen itself, and according to her it occasionally lashed out, catching her allies and foes alike.

She skimmed over my time with Master Keisuke—that nasty little thief as she called him. I really should have asked about that, why she and Xanthadon refer to him as a thief. Ah, well. I had other things on my mind.

Then she told me about how I came to her after leaving the Norgorber cult with a mission to assassinate her. I actually did try to assassinate her—in theory.

I grabbed a butter knife from her plate and tried to stab her in the back.

It was never going to work. Anyone with any knowledge of Baba Yaga would know something like that would never work. It was an utterly foolish move—if the goal was actually to kill her.

She thinks I was just trying to endear myself to her with such a bold and foolish move, and I’m inclined to agree. There’s no smart way to go about trying to kill Baba Yaga, but if the idea is instead to try to get on her good side, making yourself a novelty—someone whose first impression is amusing and interesting—would be one way to go about it. It was a risky gambit, but clearly it paid off. I showed up at just the right moment, apparently. Baba Yaga was in need of a ‘secret weapon’ of sorts, and she made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Resurrection for service as her rider.

If I understand the way she worded it, she said she’d resurrect me fully when my service was over. So if I’m correct, my ‘condition’ is because I still owe her my service. She returned me to life enough to serve my purpose, but left me with some lingering undeath that would cling to me until I’d finished my job. I’m not complaining—I would have been a few months ago when I first woke up, but honestly my ‘condition’ has mostly been to my benefit since then, and I’m over my appearance changing.

Anyways, I jumped at the offer, and became the Grimm Rider. Not ‘Grim’, Grimm—apparently it means something back on Earth where Baba Yaga comes from, and the title amused her. I don’t get it, but then, I’d been assuming until now that it was a grim reaper thing and apparently it’s not so I’m just completely out of the loop.

As the Grimm Rider I became a protégé of sorts to her. Until Rasputin contacted her, calling her back to Earth. She went without me, and instead sent me to go spy on the other sibling—Queen Elvana.

So I went to Whitethrone. I used my wit and charm to get in good with the Winter Witches—in particular one Nazhena Vassilanova and her lover Radosek Pavril. I put up with being around the worst people I’d ever met, and did it with a smile, and learned all their little secrets. And eventually I finally secured an audience with Queen Elvana.

And that’s where things get fun.

What is the best way to make a lie believable?

By wrapping it in the truth.

I told Queen Elvana that I was Baba Yaga’s secret fourth rider—the Grimm Rider—and that I’d been sent to spy on her. But that I could tell the way the winds were blowing, and her side was going to be victorious. So I wanted to pledge myself to her, as her Rider, rather than her mother.

Elvana’s a lot of things, but she is—unfortunately—not stupid. She agreed to this offer, but she kept an eagle’s eye on me. She scried on me at random, and kept tabs on me. I had to be cautious and tricky to get away with anything. Such as when I slipped a warning to Cesseer in her bedroom—where there was no chance Queenie would risk scrying on me and catching us in the act.

Then Elvana took me to Earth, and I formally met Rasputin. I was stationed to work with him—which gave me the opportunity I needed to try to learn about the World Engine.

Unfortunately, I learned what I needed to at the exact wrong time. Queen Elvana was scrying on me when I discovered the World Engine’s secrets. And that evening when Rasputin and I were shitfaced drunk, the queen sent him a message that the Grimm Rider was a traitor and had to be disposed of.

Rasputin came to me drunkenly crying over how he was going to have to kill me. So I talked him into believing that if he killed me on Earth, he risked outsiders finding my equipment and asking the wrong sorts of questions—the sorts of questions that would upset Elvana if she found out. And regardless of what I’d done, I didn’t want Elvana mad at Rasputin. So, I suggested a course of action—all for his sake of course. He should send me back to Taldor, far from any of Elvana’s plans, with a contingent of his soldiers to execute me on arrival.

What he didn’t know was that the Winter Portal would be opening in Taldor soon, giving me direct access back to Irrisen. And that I’d squirreled away a scroll of Contingency and knew the resurrection magic necessary to raise myself with it. I just set the contingency for an hour after death so there was time for the soldiers to think I was well and truly dead and leave, and then I would be free to walk right back to Irrisen and figure out a way back to the Dancing Hut and Earth and Baba Yaga from there.

It was a good plan. Unfortunately, there were unforeseen consequences. My magic, and that darkness I was born with, and Baba Yaga’s geass, and the power of being two different people’s riders, and now a contingency—all these together created a clash of energy which wiped out part of my memory, and locked away virtually all of my power.

So there we go. The answer I’d been looking for all along. Why was I missing my memory? It was because I’d set up a suicide by soldier in Taldor to avoid a more permanent death at Rasputin’s hands on Earth.

Baba Yaga scolded me for not warning her about Elvana’s plans when we spoke in Ioberia—although I pointed out that she had said not to tell her anything that would affect the timeline. She countered that Baba Yaga was more important than the time line. Fair enough, if I were in her shoes I’d have preferred a warning, too, but I didn’t know that at the time.

Anyways she let it go without further comment. Instead, she told me that since I had continued my service to her twice over, if I survive the confrontation with Elvana I’ll be rewarded twice over as well. I’ll be granted two wishes when this is all over. The only catch is that the second wish can’t be something to benefit myself.

So before then I guess I’d better figure out a wish for someone else.

I’ll probably talk to Greta about it before then.

I mean I already know what my first wish is for. (I know what my second wish would have been for if I could have used it for myself, but c'est la vie.)

After that nice surprise—and the even nicer surprise that this entire conversation was a net positive and I wasn’t going to get smote by Baba Yaga—I was dismissed and I went to go meet up with the others for dinner.

We waited around for Edeya for a bit, and when she didn’t show Nestian was concerned, considering she already got brainjacked by her mirror twin once already. So Nestian and I went looking around the Hut for Edeya.

We found her in the swamp room, having a conversation it was hard to make out. Unfortunately, the mud was sticky and nasty and I fell, which made Nestian fall on top of me, which alerted Edeya to our approach. She came to meet us, and saw our sorry state.

Nestian asked her who she’d been talking to—considering past occurrences it made sense to be cautious. However Edeya told us it was Illivor, and Illivor popped up and confirmed they’d been preparing something for what was coming up in Whitethrone, which checked out. Edeya correctly surmised that she was late to dinner, so we all headed back.

After dinner, Nestian asked Edeya to join him elsewhere. Edeya tried to pull me along, but Nestian said no, just her. Edeya misunderstood, thinking Nestian was still mad about the whole Keisuke situation (entirely possible, but not the case in this particular situation. He was just trying to ask her out and she was being thick.)

Anyways, I didn’t hear about any tears being shed afterwards, and they were holding hands under the table as if none of us would notice the next day, so I think it totally went well.

The next day we met back up in the cauldron room, called together by Baba Yaga. I tossed the next key we’d acquired into the pot—a miniature of the Dancing Hut that Rasputin had on his person. But we hadn’t found a second key.

Baba Yaga said that was fine. She had hidden the second key where it would be safe—its guardian wasn’t powerful, but it was in a place Elvana would never think to look for it.

At that, Zorka stepped forward and untied her headscarf from around her head, and then threw it into the pot. Then Nestian began stirring, and off we went.

Baba Yaga changed the landing location of the Hut so that we didn’t appear right in the middle of Whitethrone this time. Instead, when we stepped out of the Hut, we were standing on a snowy cliff overlooking the city. A blizzard was kicking up around us.

And ahead of us was Queen Jadwiga—the first of eleven Crone Queens we would have to kill to return Baba Yaga to her full power.

Queen Jadwiga raised a hand in an attempt to draw on her Mythic power from the Torc of Kostchitchi. And then there was a flash. A spectral image of a man in large platemail armor appeared. He placed a hand on her shoulder, and told her that it was time to take a break. Then he called over to us to let her have it.

We threw everything we had at her, remembering all too well the way she’d stalked and hunted us through the core of the Dancing Hut. The way she’d come within seconds of killing me and Edeya, and the way Nestian still bore the scars from that encounter. We didn’t give her a chance to act again once the spectral figure vanished. She reeled in shock from losing her power, and we utterly annihilated her.

After the first queen of Irrisen fell, the blizzard cleared and we got a good look at the city below. Right as a spectral image of Queen Elvana appeared in the sky above the city. She put on this big show of how much she was going to mourn her sister (who, might I remind you, she only just met recently and who is many centuries her senior and who under any other circumstances would have been dead long before Elvana was ever born). Then after telling the city they were going to have a period of enforced mourning, she had a message for us specifically. Since we’d killed a member of her family, she had marked a member of each of our families for death.

Well, fuck.

That absolute bitch.

That is a petty move. I should know, it’s absolutely the sort of thing I’d do in her position. And I am well aware that I’m a petty bitch when I’m pushed.

But if she thinks this will break me—will break any of us—she’s in for a very rude awakening. If she hurts my family, she’s just going to make it personal. I was just doing this because Baba Yaga said to do it. I have a Geass on me, I’ve apparently made a deal with her twice now, and also quite frankly I prefer the world not being a frozen wasteland—just Irrisen can stay a frozen wasteland, thanks. My commitment only goes so far as ‘I’m getting rewarded with a wish and also I prefer the world in an inhabitable state’. If she kills a member of my family, that makes it personal. There will be no escaping the pain and death I will bring down on her head once I’ve decided it’s for vengeance.

I guess you could argue she’s the reason I died the second time and lost my memories so it’s already personal, but eh, she was too many steps removed from that. Sure, she gave the order, but then Rasputin had his soldiers carry it out (with my own help). Now Rasputin, he still got what was coming to him. He didn’t have a backbone to stand up to Elvana, to the point that he’d come crying to me about how he was going to have to kill me. And he kept his own daughter hidden away for fear of what Elvana would do if she knew about Anastasia, but kept right on working with his sister regardless. No…I was definitely right to take out my anger on Rasputin.

…I’m getting off topic. Probably because I don’t want to think about it. They’re just regular people. They don’t need to get dragged into this mess. They shouldn’t. They’re all the way in Ustalav. They’re supposed to be safe from anything that happens here. That was the entire point of them moving so far away. To be safe from the Winter Witches. To be safe from Elvana.

And I just brought it right back to their doorstep. Because I returned to Irrisen, just like they told me not to.

Everything has been going so well! Sure there were some hiccups. I died a few times maybe, and lost my memories a little. But I gained power I never could have imagined, and I met Greta and all the others.

Baba Yaga doesn’t think we have anything to worry about. She said Kyonin, Ustalav, and Taldor are all far enough away that it will take time for them to reach those places. I think we made it from Taldor fast enough. If she’s opened any other Winter Portals it won’t be a problem for her assassins to use them. And that’s assuming they don’t just have a wizard on payroll with a Teleport spell.

But for the moment, only one of us had families in clear immediate danger. Edeya. Her family was in town. If anyone was at risk, it was them.

Although they were also high-ranking Winter Witches, so it’s entirely possible they’re in on it and we’re walking right into a trap. But I didn’t voice that fear. This was, after all, Edeya’s family. It was up to her how we handled them. And if she wanted to try to save them, then that’s what we were going to do.

Edeya prepared a Greater Teleport spell right into Whitethrone. Aenland bowed out, telling us that the city needed hope now more than ever. He tied a bandana around his face like he had the first time we were in town, and hopped on Nevra’s back. Nadya asked to come along, and he pulled her up along with him, and they flew off over the wall together. They’ll definitely draw some attention. Reckless bastard. No wonder the resistance loves him.

Jadrenka disguised herself as a Winter Witch and she, Anastasia, and Dimitri went right in through the front gate. The rest of us—Me, Nestian, Edeya, Greta, Cesseer, and Talsune—held hands, and Edeya teleported us straight to her old home.

Or she tried to.

There was a sound like glass shattering, and laughter—Edeya’s laughter but not coming from her. And all around us the world seemed to break apart, our vision shattering like a broken mirror.

But I decided I needed to test it first, not go in blind. So I roped Edeya into my test. She already knew about the Pallid Crystal after all. I knew that revealing that the crystal worked for me would be basically telling her that I worship Urgathoa, since she’d identified the crystal when we last spoke about it, but honestly? I’m a necromancer, that’s not really a huge revelation.

Besides, I was only really keeping my worship secret early on because it would have caused a lot of drama and would have made it more difficult for us to work together. I don’t feel so much like that’s the case now, so I don’t really care if the others know or not anymore. Of course, I also keep my worship of Norgorber secret on principal, god of secrets and all that, but that’s not really a requirement and more just feels respectful. Also his worship is illegal in, like, a lot of places. So that’s a pretty good reason to not just wear his symbol out in the open or anything like that.

Anyways, Edeya agreed to help me, and I explained to her that I needed her to use a weak healing spell on me so that I could test if the Pallid Crystal would work. She did as I directed. And it worked! The positive energy was funneled through the crystal and came out as its opposite, washing me in the familiar cool relief of negative energy rather than the searing pain of positive energy. I told her that I was going to be wearing that in the fight against Rasputin, although I tucked it under my clothes so he wouldn’t see it. Let him hit me with a Heal spell. It would be funny.

Edeya asked if this was a new occurrence. I said yeah, it was a new thing. She asked if it was a good new thing, and I confirmed that it was a good new thing.

I don’t know what the others would think about it, but it’s been pretty good for me so far. That desecrate ability Urgathoa gifted me allowed me to make Ivan, and he’s certainly had his moments—even if Rasputin still went and showed me up by making a Dullahan with a fucking Nightmare mount.

I’m not over that.

And I mean even if I didn’t get any boons, I can worship who I want. I like worshiping Norgorber. He aligns well with me. The boons are just a nice bonus proving that I’m doing well.

Anyways, gods aside, after a bit we were done with our prep work and ready to return to Paulina’s graveyard to speak to the Tombstone Fairy.

She was there, digging new graves for the freshly fallen—many familiar faces amongst them, being people we’d killed ourselves.

I produced the body of the man we needed her to revive, and she worked her magic.

After a number of minutes, he sat up screaming, ranting about Rasputin. It took a moment for him to calm and look around, registering where he was. He cursed, saying Rasputin literally shot him in the back.

The man we’d been calling M introduced himself as Viktor Miloslav. He was a mechanic who worked with Rasputin and some other guy named Nikola Tesla in building the World Engine. Which was itself a machine that ran on a mixture of machinery and magic to create a demiplane.

We produced the blueprints, which we’d found in the Abbott House, and gave them to him to look over. He declared that he knew how to shut down the four towers so that the cathedral in the center of the camp would become visible. It would remain visible for an hour before the machinery reset itself.

And hour would be plenty of time…hopefully.

We agreed to go with him to each of the towers to help him shut them down.

The first two were uneventful, although after the second one I noticed he was getting pensive. He seemed twitchy and bothered by the things he was seeing as a result of his work. If I was reading him right, he had the look of a man who was about to do something desperate to himself. Probably right after he finished shutting down the machines.

As if to confirm my theory, after the third tower Viktor tripped on the path between the third and forth towers, falling into a snow drift. As he stood, I saw him pocket a gun which had fallen to the side of the road.

No one else called him on it. No one else seemed to be making any moves to talk him down from whatever he was about to do.

I began to realize I was probably the only one who had read his body language, and seen him pick up the gun.

I can’t say I cared what this man did to himself. How he dies is his own business. If he doesn’t want to live to see a world without Rasputin, that’s up to him.

But he was going to do it in front of my friends, and that was going to upset them. Nestian is so focused on protecting people, and Edeya has her thing about redemption…it would be cruel of me to just let this all unfold in front of them without stepping in.

So I casually said to him that even the best men can be manipulated by men like Rasputin—those with silver tongues. Viktor said I sounded like I spoke from experience. I told him quite honestly that I have been told I have a silver tongue—and I haven’t always used it for the kindest purposes. But today I hoped I was doing something good. That last part was maybe laying it on a bit thick, but I wanted to get the point across that someone could make something better of themselves.

Viktor asked how a man like him could hope to repent when we’d brought these horrors into the world—things not meant to exist on Earth. I pointed out that he was taking a good first step, helping to stop Rasputin and get rid of these abominations as he viewed them. Viktor was quiet for a long contemplative moment, then I saw him subtly dispose of the gun. He told me that perhaps he would have to be here when we got back, to see this through to the end. I told him that’s the spirit—after all we needed someone to bear witness to our victory.

After my…pep talk, of sorts, we arrived to the final tower. Viktor made sure we were prepared, and then shut it down. The cathedral appeared where the ruins in the center of the camp had been—both magnificent and terrible.

It only remained in the camp for a moment, before the ground began to shudder, and the entire building began to rise up into the sky. Thousands of feet into the air.

A single beam of light breaking through the gloom of the camp signaled where we could rise up to enter the demiplane.

On the ground below us, the remaining Russian soldiers and monsters gathered to hinder us—not that they stood any sort of chance.

Aenland led the charge with Nevra and Ivan, cutting a bloody swath straight through the center of our enemies. I followed with Talsune and Roscoe, breathing a stream of fire down on those unfortunate enough to be below us. Cesseer darted forward, almost faster than the eye could follow, taking out enemies as she ran, and reaching the light even before the dragonkin. When she stood in the light, it began to lift her skywards, as if gravity had been reversed. Anastasia followed not far behind, along with Edeya. Finally, Nestian cast Cheetah’s Sprint on himself and burst through anyone left in the crowd that dared get in his way still, shooting like a bullet from the tower into the beam of light.

We landed outside the large doors to this grand cathedral to some unknown god. As we approached four figures from the stained glass animated and pulled away from their windows, standing to hinder us.

But worse was what was bound to the front door. A spirit was crucified across the entryway, staring at us with burning hatred.

A crucifixion spirit. A phantom born of the suffering of one who died in torment, killed by being crucified, who bears a particular grudge against casters of divine magic and wishes to see them suffer in the way it has suffered.

Unfortunately, Nestian and I both have magic that falls into the category of ‘divine’ magic. His is more like ‘the divinity of the natural world’, and I don’t know where my magic comes from but everything that reacts to divine casters reacts to me so it’s some sort of ‘divine’ magic.

The spirit went after Nestian first, using its powers to pull Nestian’s soul from his body, and forcefully crucify it, overlaid over the spirit. Nestian’s body fell limp to the ground—not dead, but not entirely alive either.

I immediately directed Roscoe to kill the spirit. That thing needed to be gone immediately. It was dangerous. And it had Nestian in its clutches.

An instant later, Nestian gasped, his soul snapping back into his body as he shrugged off the spirit’s hold over him.

I cast Destruction on the Crucifixion Spirit anyways for good measure.

The four stained glass beings were closing in, one causing a deep bleeding gash across Nevra’s scales. Anastasia said something about us ‘angering the saints’, I don’t really know what she was talking about but it seemed to be in reference to whoever the glass was meant to depict.

Aenland shoot a flurry of arrows at the glass figures, shattering three of them.

And then I quit being terribly aware of what was going on as the spirit pulled my soul out next, hanging me over the doorway. The pain was excruciating—like being doused in positive energy just constantly.

It didn’t last long. I distantly heard a gunshot, and then a moment later I snapped back into my body, on the ground at Talsune’s feet. Roscoe had destroyed the spirit. And Cesseer had shattered the last glass figure.

So there was nothing standing in the way of us entering the cathedral proper.

I did take a moment to heal myself and Nestian’s souls though. Our bodies were unharmed, but the damage the spirit had done was to our souls—much like when I use my own Soul Siphon ability on people. Thankfully I don’t just know how to damage a soul, but how to heal one as well. So I fixed us both up.

Then we entered the cathedral.

And were immediately met by the most unexpected sight any of us could have imagined. Baba Yaga, standing over the corpse of the Erosdaemon—Rasputin’s most recent lover.

She told us that we’d been taking too long, so she decided to break herself out and take care of things on her own. There was nothing left to do here, so now we could feel free to leave.

I was confused, but didn’t immediately clock what was going on.

Nestian, however, did.

He began to approach ‘our kindly grandmother’, offering his arm as though he were trying to help any regular old woman. Baba Yaga told Nestian that he wasn’t listening to her, and that it was time to leave.

Nestian told her that it was unwise to wear Baba Yaga’s face.

The figure cursed, then dropped the illusion. The corpse vanished, and where Baba Yaga had stood, we now saw the Erosdaemon. She quickly summoned four other daemons, and began her assault.

Which was short-lived as Aenland shot a volley of arrows into the heartbreak daemon and killed her instantly—immediately returning her summons back to where they’d come from.

Ahead of us was a very unsteady looking pile of pews, which we surmised were going to fall when we approached. I cast spell resistance on myself because I realized we were getting closer with each step to Rasputin, and I wanted to have that on when we faced him. I also put Oracle’s Vessel on Talsune so I could heal him myself in a pinch (I’d already put it on Nestian and it was hilariously useful).

We approached the pews, and they fell as predicted. We all avoided them, and saw on the opposite side that the three Nosferatu we’d heard about were awaiting us. The Brothers Three taunted us, invoking the Pallid Princess’ name, and in particularly taunted me as being less smiled upon by our shared mistress.

Then they smote Aenland, Edeya, and Nestian, and filled the room with negative energy using their channel energy powers. It did a lot less than they expected since they hadn’t expected Talsune and Nestian to both heal from it. So joke’s on them.

Then Roscoe entered the room and started shooting the nearest brother. The entire building starting in the room had a Desecrate effect—which empowered all of Rasputin’s little undead, but it empowered mine too.

One of the vampires turned and tried to dominate Nestian, but he was immune to it. The look on the vampire’s face was priceless. These guys really thought we weren’t going to upgrade our tricks when we knew they had our shadows to learn what we had up our sleeves beforehand.

Aenland shot off all his arrows on the vampire that smote him—but a few missed due to it being empowered against him. Very unusual for Aenland’s generally sharp aim. Nestian followed up against the same vampire with a little more luck, severely injuring him and forcing him into his swarm form. The swarm of bats retreated up the stairs—biting and injuring Nestian, Edeya, and especially Aenland along the way.

I cast Destruction on the nearest Nosferatu, the same one who Roscoe had shot and who was cockily telling me how the Pallid Princess favored them. Talsune followed my spell up with a devastating sword swing, although the vampire somehow still clung to his undeath.

The Nosferatu followed up my attacks by trying to grab me, but I was too fast for him and avoided his touch. No vampire bites for me today, thanks. Like I said, these aren’t the sexy kind of vampires.

Then we heard a sound coming from beyond the nosferatu—where Rasputin and his remaining minions were in some kind of ritual, frozen in a stasis we couldn’t get through to harm them. The World Engine overflowed with power, and we were all struck with a massive amount of acidic energy.

That was something we were going to have to figure out how to stop, because we couldn’t keep fighting with it blasting us every few seconds.

There was also an overpowering smell of decay and disease which had been growing. Very Urgathoa, I can’t say I was terribly surprised. But after the World Engine went off, the source made itself known. A gods-damned Daughter of Urgathoa appeared at the bottom of the stairs to one of the towers. She looked around after asking the brothers why she had been called, then addressed me directly, informing me that Urgathoa knew my quarrel was only with the nosferatu—but she didn’t like my friends. So the Daughter turned and tried to shoot Edeya with Enervation.

But Nestian did as Nestian does and pulled her out of the way, taking the hit instead. Which was hilarious, because Oracle’s Vessel. He got empowered by the spell rather than having his soul sundered by it. The Daughter of Urgathoa seemed dumbfounded by this revelation.

I heard an amused chuckle in the back of my mind. I think their mother found that particular turnabout funny as well.

While I was focused on the Daughter, Talsune cut through the Nosferatu we’d been fighting, separating him into his swarm form. Then he stepped away from the swarm to avoid us being overwhelmed and bitten like the others had been—smart move, partner.

This gave me the freedom to figure out what to do about the Daughter of Urgathoa—preferably without fighting my goddess’ highest ranked followers. I turned to the Daughter, and told her that I had things handled here. Then I cast Dismissal. Because I had surmised that the brothers had summoned the Daughters of Urgathoa here, they weren’t created by Rasputin like most of the other undead in this place.

The Daughter failed to resist my magic’s pull. As she faded back to Abbadon she agreed that perhaps I did have this handled. Then she vanished.

Unfortunately…two more Daughters of Urgathoa came down the stairs a moment later. I told the others that I could dismiss them like I had the other one, and asked them to focus on the last vampire. I wouldn’t be torn up if they killed the Daughters of Urgathoa themselves without my directing or help, but I’d rather just send them back to the Pallid Princess and leave her children intact.

Aenland dealt with the third brother, popping him into swarm form as well, then seemingly on a lark he began attacking the World Engine. His attacks caused it to temporarily shut down—avoiding another blast like before. Edeya surmised that if we did enough damage it would cause it to shut down momentarily, although it would always power back on so long as it had its power source (Baba Yaga).

Cesseer had nothing else to attack, so she ran past me and told me that I might be going non-lethal, but she wasn’t. I gave her no complaints, as I said above. Cesseer began slashing and kicking the Daughter nearest me. Anastasia followed that up with a bullet to the Daughter’s head—but being undead that only slowed her down, didn’t kill her.

The other Daughter, the one not occupied with Cesseer and Anastasia, began slashing at Nestian with her scythe arm.

I focused and cast Dismissal on that Daughter first, removing the immediate threat to Nestian. She gave me a nod of acknowledgment before vanishing. Then I tried to finish things with a quickened Dismissal on the final Daughter, but she stubbornly resisted the call back to Abbadon. And made me waste some of my most powerful magic.

A moment later Aenland finished the final Daughter off.

Two out of three wasn’t bad. And no one can blame the others for killing the third one—she was trying to kill them first.

The vampires had all fled to their coffins and would be a later problem, as they wouldn’t recuperate enough to join into another battle for at least a full day. We’d have killed Rasputin and done something about this demiplane by then.

We got into position, ready to strike when the stasis on Rasputin and his followers was to fall.

The purple energy fell, and Rasputin looked around at all of us. He bemoaned that he thought he’d have time to finish his ritual—he’d thought it would take us weeks to figure out how to get into his demiplane, and he’d have time to ascend with mythic power.

So now he intended to deal with us himself—in style. With a soundtrack and everything.

What is with me and knowing guys who make their own soundtracks for their demiplane? First Master Keisuke, now Rasputin. It’s not a complaint, honestly I like the flair for the dramatic. If I ever make a demiplane I’m adding music too.

Hm, maybe that’s what it is, I just hang around people with very similar tastes. And those tastes are being dramatic stylish necromancers.

Anyways. We had been ready for when the stasis energy dispersed, and when it did most of us threw our attacks onto the nearest undead sniper. Everyone but Nestian, who threw a fireball into the back of the room and caught three snipers and Rasputin himself.

Then I ordered Roscoe to not bother with the small-fries and to go after Rasputin. He laid into him—negative energy and all. Our magic might be similar, but he clearly didn’t share my affliction. Too bad for him.

Rasputin retaliated. He crushed a diamond and cast miracle. He cast a spell on us that damaged and gravely weakened us depending on how much of the Black Rider’s power we had left. Aenland was the only one left unaffected, having already used up all of the power granted by Baba Yaga before entering this battle. Nestian and I still had some small dregs of power left, and Edeya still had her entire reservoir of power left and was therefore the most badly affected.

Afterwards Rasputin called upon our stolen shadows, summoning seven Shadow Demons to face us. They looked like the twisted silhouettes of each of us, possessed by the demon that had stolen our shadow.

Then Rasputin turned his full attention on me. ‘Calio, let’s dance’ he said as he tried to cast a Destruction spell on me. But that spell resistance I’d cast on myself came in handy, absorbing the spell and leaving me completely unharmed. I laughed and agreed to his dance, casting my own Destruction spell back at Rasputin. Mine hit, because apparently any spell resistance he had was only against morally good creatures and guess what? I still don’t give a shit about the universe’s morality bullshit. Although Rasputin still resisted the worst of the damage, he did take some—cuts appearing across his body as I invoked Norgorber to kill the unkillable. I asked him if that was a good enough dance for him, and he complained about the spell feeling like a thousand paper cuts. I didn’t bother correcting him that it was actually shortswords—although I did quickly shoot down the idea that the god I’d invoked was the King in Yellow. I’m not going anywhere near that.

Talsune followed my spell up with a burst of flame breath aimed at Rasputin, which he partially dodged out of the way of, but he did get a little scorched.

Then Aenland’s arrows went zipping past me, and killed three of the snipers in one fell swoop. He had apparently decided to clear the masses.

Which was good, because the snipers on Rasputin’s command began aiming solely for Edeya. She managed to take hit after hit, but there’s only so much one body can take. Inevitably she fell—not dead, but unconscious and bleeding profusely. As she fell Rasputin said to her ‘sorry cousin, but you are one of us. I know you’re the most dangerous.’

Nestian ran to her side and funneled a potion into her mouth, managing to get her back on her feet enough for her to cast Heal on herself and return to the fight in earnest. Which was good, because I don’t have any healing that isn’t Breath of Life, and I’d rather she not die just so that I can heal her.

 Nestian kept Edeya by his side for the entire rest of the fight, keeping anything else from hitting her.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t really focused on that at the time. I only noticed it later, after Nestian was already by Edeya’s side and Edeya was fully healed. Because at that same moment the Shadow Demons were trying to Magic Jar each of us. They had a pretty dismal success rate—until one aimed for Talsune. It slithered its way into my partner’s mind. Talsune’s thoughts were smothered, replaced by the oily voice of the living shadow that promised me nothing but malice and harm.

I was somewhere between blind panic and rage at this creature’s invasion into Talsune’s head.

Illivor said something about needing to go to Edeya—I was vaguely aware of Edeya still bleeding out at that point and agreed with her that was for the best. She flew off, and the thing inside of Talsune forced him to take a swing at Illivor—but she was small and quick and the creature probably wasn’t used to Talsune’s form, so it missed.

This horror only lasted for a moment. One moment of drowning in shadows as the mental link between my partner and I was corrupted by a demon, one moment of rage at my friend being ripped from me—before Anastasia shot Talsune and dispelled the possession effect, flinging the demon out of Talsune and back to the edge of the room where it had been before.

At that same moment Roscoe was continuing to follow my initial orders to shoot Rasputin, and Ivan had helped Cesseer to shut down the World Engine for another short moment. In frustration with my pets peppering him with bullets and smashing his machines, Rasputin ordered his remaining snipers to destroy Ivan and Roscoe.

Talsune was looking rough after Anastasia shot him—not something I’m upset with her over, I’m extremely grateful that she expelled that demon from him. But between that and Rasputin’s orders to destroy my undead, I decided some healing was in order. So I cast a mass inflict critical wounds, hitting myself, Talsune, Ivan, Roscoe, and Rasputin for good measure. Rasputin resisted the damage more or less, but the rest of us healed a good chunk. Then Talsune breathed another breath of fire at Rasputin, which caused him to use up his Moment of Prescience to avoid the burst of flame. I’m calling that a win, since he would have been hit head on if he hadn’t used a spell to avoid it.

A burst of electricity shot through the coils that made up the World Engine, as well as the last two remaining snipers, as Aenland had Nevra breath lightning. Then Aenland killed one of the two surviving snipers with his arrows, although one managed to survive the onslaught somehow.

And then the three headed dragon Radimir appeared. Aenland had warned us that he had been in the back of the room, invisible, casting a Dominate spell. But there was little any of us could do about it. Now he released his spell. On Nestian. Unaware that he was immune. The look on the dragon’s face was priceless.

Nestian promised the dragon that he was going to die today.

My original orders to Ivan no longer applied since he didn’t have a machine to hit anymore, so I had him step in to take a slash at Rasputin, honestly not really expecting much given his previous showing in battle. I was mostly trying to annoy him and force him to have to concentrate on his spellcasting.

Instead, he beheaded the man in a single clean swipe.

So the first Rasputin kill went to Ivan, apparently. I hadn’t even had him do a Death’s Calling yet.

Afterwards the remaining sniper shot the Dullahan, as per their orders to destroy my undead—especially since he just slayed their master. Which, fair, but also fuck you.

Anastasia took aim and fired a deadly accurate shot into one of the three headed dragon’s heads. It was probably cathartic after all the emotional turmoil he’d put her through—she deserved it.

I didn’t get long to focus on that, however, as the shadow that had temporarily possessed Talsune attacked both me and my partner. On my orders the shadow was shot multiple times by Roscoe. I wanted that shadow dead dearly for what it had done—but not as much as I wanted Rasputin permanently dead.

Rasputin rose back up, reattaching his head to his body and revitalizing entirely. He looked good as new, whereas we’d been wading through multiple fights throughout the day.

At least he was down four snipers this time.

Rasputin locked eyes with me and said he was sick of these games, then he reached out and touched Ivan with a Heal spell, damaging Ivan to the brink of destruction.

Immediately afterwards the ground split open beneath us and sickly green flames licked at us as he cast a quickened Flame Strike. Ivan was destroyed instantly, his body dragged into the green fiery depths by shadowy hands. Me, Talsune, Aenland, Nevra, and Roscoe all got caught in the unnatural flames as well.

Aenland came out of the flames firing, his arrows killing the final sniper and peppering Radimir with shots.

I was incensed at the destruction of Ivan. I’d liked that Dullahan. He’d been made using Urgathoa’s gift, and wielding Urgathoa’s weapon. He was as much a piece of art as a pet made to serve me. And Rasputin tore that away from me. I told Rasputin to quit breaking my toys, then cast Horrid Wilting on him and half the Shadow Demons. Three of the demons died instantly, including the bastard who’d possessed Talsune, and it badly injured the rest.

Rasputin shot back that I’d just killed him, but I rightly pointed out that Rasputin had killed me first. Rasputin said fine, then now we were even and could stop this.

Did he really think that? That just because we’d evened up the number of times we’d killed each other we could just pack up and stop the fight and go home like none of this happened?

I was going to respond, but then the others expressed their confusion over Rasputin having killed me before, and I realized with everything that happened with Radimir and Anastasia the day before it had kind of slipped my mind to tell anyone what I’d talked to Rasputin about. So I told them it was a long story and I’d explain later.

Rasputin, petty bitch that he is, said it wasn’t that long of a story: I’d spurned Rasputin so he’d killed me. Exasperated, I said fine, if you wanted to give them the abridged version that was it.

With all said and done I followed up my Horrid Wilting with a quickened Boneshaker. Because I can be a petty bitch too.

Talsune couldn’t breathe fire at Rasputin again, so instead he stepped over to one of the coils and smashed it, shutting down the World Engine for another brief moment of respite.

Rasputin used some internal power to move unusually fast, and turned to the three headed dragon. He told him to get out there, then teleported him to the other side of the room—right next to Nestian. The dragon made three breath weapon attacks against Nestian and Edeya—which Nestian dodged entirely, and Edeya used the Black Rider’s power to protect herself from, taking some damage from Rasputin’s ongoing spell, but entirely negating the fire breath and getting rid of the negative effects he’d imbued on her for her powers, now that she’d used them.

Nestian turned and laid into the dragon, slaying it, then followed up in a whirlwind of slashes—killing all three of the remaining Shadow Demons surrounding him and Edeya. In an instant they went from being surrounded by four enemies to being surrounded by none—excluding Radimir’s body, which was slowly regenerating. But I had a plan for that. The same one I’d used on trolls so many times before.

Cesseer darted into the middle of the World Engine coils while it was shut down, resisted Rasputin’s Anti-life Shell with her spell resistance, and landed a flying drop kick on him. Honestly if this hadn’t been such a dire situation, Cesseer fighting Rasputin would have been kinda hot.

Then, suddenly his entropic shield shattered, as Anastasia shot her father—making it easier for her, Roscoe, and Aenland to land a hit on him.

So I had Roscoe follow her lead, firing four more negative energy bullets into Rasputin’s head. And his body slumped a second time. My undead: 2, Rasputin: 0.

Okay Rasputin does have 1 if you count him destroying Ivan, but that doesn’t sound as impressive.

This time death only lasted a split second, before Rasputin rose once more—even more infuriated that my undead had killed him a second time.

But he aimed his anger at Cesseer, who was next to him still. He cast a Harm spell on her.

Thankfully she resisted the worst of it.

Then he shot a quickened dispel at me, removing the Nine Lives spell Edeya had cast on me—leaving me far more vulnerable. I was pissed because it was just more of him destroying my cool things. I told him as much, and he complained that now I’d killed him twice. I told him to do a better job not dying.

Aenland made a comment that was basically ‘just kiss already’, and Edeya noted that she was pretty sure we already had. I decided to ignore the peanut gallery.

Instead, I decided to remedy the ‘keeps being killed by Calio’s undead’ problem by just killing him personally. I hit Rasputin with a Destruction spell, which tore him to shreds this time rather than just leaving small cuts. And I followed it up with a quickened Boneshaker, which I used to snap his neck and at the same time drag him away from Cesseer to avoid a repeat of him popping up and casting Harm on her.

Talsune knew my plan for taking out Radimir permanently, and while Rasputin was down he took the last vial of acid I had long ago squirreled away in the bag of holding, then he flew across the room to the three headed dragon. Talsune threw the vial on the dying dragon, shutting off his regeneration and killing him permanently.

Nevra breathed lightning on the World Engine’s coils again. Once it was safely shut down again, Aenland mentioned that he thought Baba Yaga was being held upstairs and asked if we had things handled down here. We agreed to him scouting ahead, so Nevra and Aenland darted past Rasputin and his anti-life shell using the extra room I’d made by dragging him to the side, and they disappeared up the stairs.

Cesseer stepped forward and readied an attack for when Rasputin returned to life. Nestian approached, but couldn’t get into attack range due to the anti-life field. Roscoe and Anastasia readied a shot for when he came back as well.

In the moments before Rasputin rose again, there was a noise from the World Engine, and then it shut down entirely.

Rasputin rose again, but he was beginning to show signs of strain. There were holes in his skin in places, like old wounds reopened, and his movements were more erratic. Rasputin said something about how he couldn’t hear his mother anymore. I was too far away to attack him, but he was immediately hit by Cesseer, Roscoe, and Anastasia’s attacks—and Anastasia dispelled his anti-life shell, leaving him vulnerable to Nestian and Talsune.

Immediately after, Rasputin crushed a second diamond to use one final miracle.

He momentarily reactivated the World Engine, and energy burst from it, hitting all of us.

Almost everyone resisted as the demiplane tried to banish us back to the material plane. Except for Talsune, who began fading away from under me as the energy engulfed him. He promised me that we would see each other again when this was all over.

He was gone before I could tell if he was worried about losing another rider while he was sent far away, where he couldn’t help. I had to hope that he had faith in my abilities—and my persistent survivability.

Aenland popped back out of the stairwell once the energy cleared up and declared to us all that he had procured Baba Yaga. Then he seemed to realize we were still fighting, and he flew in on Nevra and stabbed Rasputin at unusually close range for him.

This time everyone prepared to strike him when he rose again. I trudged over from the other side of the room and readied a mass inflict spell. Nestian prepared to bring down his axe. Cesseer was ready with her shotel, and Roscoe and Anastasia had guns at the ready. Rasputin rose again—only to be immediately cut down. He was dogpiled, slain by Nestian’s axe before he even had a chance to react.

This happened a second time, everyone dogpiled him the moment he rose from the grave and he went down again.

The final time he got up was different from all the others times. I could feel it. He had no power. He was a regular human, lacking any of the magic that had made him so impressive. Nestian and Nevra impaled him on one of the coils, and I began walking towards him, casting Death Clutch as I did. I ripped his heart from his body.

Weakly, his final words were ‘it looks like you’re breaking my heart again, Calio….’

…

I don’t feel bad. He was a shitty human being, and I doubt I had any genuine feelings for him the first time around, no matter how much alike we might have been in…certain ways. I think it would be easier if I could just remember the life I had before. If I could remember what things had been like with him, or even just why I’d betrayed him and Elvana, I think it would be easier for me to not care.

Anastasia told us that we should destroy all signs of this place. She formulated a plan that involved stringing up a bunch of grenades that we would set off after we’d jumped off the edge of the cathedral. She gave us these parachute things, which worked like manual featherfall. She also reminded us of these victory cigars that Dimitri had given us, telling us that we had to celebrate properly when we killed Rasputin. I offered my Spark cantrip to anyone who wanted to partake in the cigars—I lit my own first, because I was definitely not saying no to a victory cigar.

Then we all threw ourselves off the side of the flying cathedral, pulled the string on the explosives, and the entire place went down in a fiery explosion. I dove through the air, free falling for a time with Roscoe swooping around me, before I pulled the cord on my parachute and my decent slowed as a large cloth thing popped out of the backpack and caught the wind. I drifted to the ground, then removed the pack and made a beeline for the Dancing Hut, the others right there with me.

In front of the Hut was a lone Mirror Man. Reflected in its mirror was the fake Edeya.

She was looking at our handiwork with a satisfying look of horror on her face, as the cathedral crashed to the ground.

We stopped before the Mirror Man. Mirror Edeya told us that she had a message for us. Then she vanished from the mirror, and a new image replaced her visage.

Queen Elvana herself.

This was our first chance in my memory to actually have words with the Queen.

I smirked at her and with as much sweet venom as I could muster said ‘hello again, my Queen’.

Aenland took the more directly annoying route, borrowing Rasputin’s nickname for his sister and saying ‘hello, Elvie’—which almost made me lose my cool and burst out laughing, not gonna lie.

Nestian was the only one who had actual words for the Queen rather than poking the hornet’s nest—go figure. Nestian told her that her days were numbered.

Elvana took us all in with the cool disregard of a monarch who has never had to consider anyone below herself before, and wasn’t going to start now.  Although I definitely saw a twitch of annoyance at my and Aenland’s jabs.

When she spoke, she didn’t acknowledge anything we’d had to say to her. Instead, she thanked us for killing her ‘useless brother’, and told us that ‘as thanks’ she would give us one chance to return home to our families, and she would leave our friends and families untouched. But if we returned to Irrisen, we would die like everyone else.

Then with a fury I think most monarchs would find unbecoming, she punched the mirror on her end and shattered it.

Mirror Edeya’s features returned to the mirror. She seemed almost uncertain, almost awkward, as she confirmed that was the message, before she vanished from the Mirror Man and it slumped lifeless to the ground, its mirror shattered.

We all entered the Dancing Hut to decide what to do next. That would be difficult—we had found Baba Yaga, but not two keys back to Golarian, unlike the last ventures.

We rested for the night, and reconvened in the morning. The kids insisted that they come along with us. There were still things they needed to discover out in the camp apparently. And they felt confident in their ability to hide from the guards. So we all agreed to let them tag along, so long as they stayed in the flying cauldron and stayed away from any of the fighting.

On the way to the camp, Rasputin manifest his face in the sky and made a big show of threatening us for ‘taking something precious from him’, but then he didn’t even do anything about it. Not that I’m complaining about not having more lightning or destruction spells thrown at me.

However the light show did distract Aenland enough that he nearly flew Nevra right into one of those landmines. I had to fly Talsune into them to knock them off course. Aenland got all defensive. As if I’d just ram into them for no reason, he should have known I was trying to help him without me spelling it out for him. But I did spell it out for him, and then he was properly grateful for me not just letting him get his ass blown up.

We made it back to the camp without further incident, and I had a plan to keep us hidden from the snipers and the enemy Dullahans. I’d taught myself a useful new spell for the occasion: greater hide from undead. We could pass through the camp completely invisible to anything that wasn’t entirely living within. Which given that Rasputin had the same predisposition for undead pets that I do, I knew this would give us a sweeping advantage against probably the most dangerous creatures waiting for us.

We decided to make our way to the back of the camp first, to take care of whoever had been throwing lightning at us the day prior.

It turned out it was treants. Two lightning throwing treants growing out of the building.

Nestian and Nevra cut down the trees before they had a chance to react, and we gathered a shocking amount of treasure hidden amongst their roots. Within the room was also a letter written in draconic in Rasputin’s handwriting, addressed to one “Radimir”, who he directed to keep an eye on “their little secret” which he didn’t want his sister to find out about.

A hoard and a letter in draconic pointed towards a dragon, but we hadn’t heard anything about a dragon working with Rasputin, nor had we seen any signs of a dragon before now. We…perhaps didn’t look into it as closely as we should have. Or maybe the answer was too close to us for us to see.

I’m not the sort to regret the past. I don’t think there’s any way we could have known, or anything we could have done differently. But somehow that stings more.

So we gathered the treasure and left the empty house behind. Aenland suggested we take out the snipers next, so that they couldn’t harass us while we cleared the Dullahan camp. I was hesitant to approach the central cathedral, but Aenland intended to snipe the snipers from a distance, and it seemed like it would be a quick in and out, so I didn’t voice a complaint.

We left Nestian and Aenland by the cleared out dragon den, and the rest of us made our way to the burnt out cathedral. The snipers never took a single shot at us—my spell did what it was meant to. They never saw us coming.

I saw arrows from seemingly out of nowhere fly through the sniper’s lookout right before I entered the cathedral with Talsune.

I felt like my heart was going to stop as a vision overtook my mind, of how Baba Yaga was captured by Rasputin. Horrible fractal effects sparked behind my eyes and I heard her screams. And Rasputin’s face swam across my vision. Before everything snapped back to clarity. I staggered up the stairs to try to still be of use against the snipers, but by the time I made it to the top of the tower, Aenland’s final arrow had slain the last undead sniper. He never really needed our help—although I’m not about to tell him that.

As I tried to catch my breath and braced myself to go back down the stairs, there was a searing pain through my body, and then blood was running down my cheeks and from wounds on my hands that hadn’t been there a moment before. Edeya was next to me, and she had blood running from her eyes and hands as well. I could feel that Talsune was in pain—whatever had happened to us had affected my partner downstairs as well.

Downstairs we heard Cesseer yell up to us that the statues were bleeding and attacking. So apparently that was a thing. Then echoing up from below we heard a familiar laugh.

Rasputin was here.

I cast Spell Resistance on myself and ran down the stairs, adrenaline banishing any remaining fatigue from the strange vision moments before. I flung myself onto Talsune’s back, and without my directing he reeled us around towards the statues.

My aim had been to try to punch past the statues and see if I could distract Rasputin while others more suited to fight the statues did so—but that isn’t how it went.

Talsune got slowed by one of the golems auras, and it began laying into him. My partner was really hurting, and we were in a bad position to try to get to safety. And then a second one joined in, just to make matters worse. I couldn’t do anything to harm the magic-immune golems. Talsune’s sword could only do so much, especially while he was surrounded.

Thankfully Cesseer stepped in and took on one of them, taking the attention off my partner. And Edeya caught up and began healing Talsune, assuring that he wouldn’t fall in this battle.

Unfortunately, since I wasn’t able to distract Rasputin as planned, he had joined in the fight. His oh-so-brave projected image flew through the wall and tried to strike Aenland with a curse—but thankfully he resisted. Aenland then proceeded to completely ignore Rasputin since he wasn’t really there, and began shooting statues, clearing the horde.

Even though we’d won, Rasputin laughed at us. He vanished, saying that the longer we took, the stronger he would become, and the weaker his mother would grow.

He’s so fucking full of it.

We’ve virtually completely cleared his entire camp in two days. What does he mean ‘the longer we take’? I think he’s just trying to sound big and scary to hide the fact that he’s starting to realize that we’re a legitimate threat to him.

Besides, there’s no way he could completely drain Baba Yaga’s power…right?

That aside, once we were done in the cathedral, we decided it was finally time to deal with the pesky little Dullahan problem.

So we made our way to the ‘Cossack’ camp. I’m still not entirely sure what a ‘Cossack’ is, but it’s what everyone here keeps calling all the Dullahans. Anastasia said that she thought that the Cossacks were meant to protect her family, she didn’t understand why they were acting the way they were now. Her brother seemed less convinced that they had ever been loyal. From what I saw of them while fighting them, I think they believed they were still fighting for Anastasia’s family, but someone had manipulated their perception of the world. Someone likely being Rasputin since he raised them as Dullahans. I have yet to tell Anastasia this. It seems pointless to heap more suffering at her feet by telling her that her loyal guards were made into puppets whose acts of violence were done in her family’s name.

With my Hide from Undead spell we were able to directly approach the camp, but once we were near the Dullahan captain and the Lantern Goat saw through my magic. The captain ordered his men to charge—but none of them had broken through my magic yet, and they seemed merely confused by his order. The Lantern Goat retreated into a tent—whether it was merely a coward or aware that it was the target, I’m uncertain.

There was one other combatant in the camp. A familiar sight from months prior. Radosek Pavril’s goat, the strange abyssal familiar that had burst into locusts the last time we’d fought it.

So, okay fine, the others were right that Pavril’s goat was here. I don’t know why his weird demon familiar would be here on a different planet consorting with a Lantern Goat, but who am I to question the motives of demons?

And seeing as it wasn’t undead, it saw us perfectly fine. It stood on its hind hooves and its body twisted and contorted out of its goat disguise until it had a grotesque fly-like head sitting atop its goat body.

I wonder if Radosek knew what his familiar really was when he was going around trying to impress women by showing them his goat?

Still, we had the jump on them with most of their troops completely unaware of our presence. Nestian led the charge, his blade drawing blood across an oblivious Dullahan.

And then my magic snapped. Unlike the snipers, these Dullahans must have had strong wills, because when Nestian’s attack connected they broke through the haze of my spell and saw the reality of us invading their camp.

The captain, astride upon a midnight black Nightmare rather than a regular warhorse, again commanded his men to charge. And this time they obeyed.

I am so fucking jealous. I made Ivan to be a superior Dullahan to Rasputin’s, I used abilities granted by Urgathoa herself and armed him with a Thanadaemon’s scythe and everything, and then he goes and does something as cool as putting a Dullahan on a fucking Nightmare? I am so mad. That much style is wasted on Rasputin.

Of course, first we had to deal with the pesky little goat demon. It charged forward and stuck Nestian with its proboscis, trying to suck his blood like a nasty little demonic vampire. Or a really big mosquito. Nestian pushed it away. Then I flew Talsune in. I had acquired a maximize metamagic rod from our recent ventures, and it was time to put it to good use. I cast a maximized boneshatter on the demonic insect, snapping and shattering its sections of its bones and exoskeleton.

I can’t say I bear much of a grudge against Pavril, but I don’t remember him fondly either. He tried to curse me when we fought against him. And this damned thing disguised as a goat had been shooting fire at us that whole fight. I wasn’t letting it get away again.

Feeling my desires, Talsune swung around and brought his blade down on the demonic half-goat-insect-thing.

Actually by now I knew what it really was, a Coloxus demon, but its partially dropped disguise made it look so horrifically disfigured that it was hard not to think of it was some strange monstrous thing instead.

With the clatter of hooves, the Dullahan captain charged forward, thrusting his lance through Nestian. Then his steed breathed out a noxious cloud that blanketed Nestian and the Coloxus demon. Then just to add insult to injury, he held up his dismembered head, and spoke our names. They echoed out, and each of us could feel our souls try to be pulled towards the grave. A nasty trick I’d been saving for Rasputin with Ivan—but seeing as he had our shadows, of course he would have his own Dullahan do the same right back at us. Most of us managed to recover, but Edeya and I seemed to have a more difficult time of it, and had to catch our breaths. I don’t know about Edeya, but I suspect for me it’s because my soul isn’ in a bit.

Yeah, more than once. I’ll get to the ‘a few times’ in a bit.

Aenland took initiative against the Dullahan cavalry, and began picking them off from farthest to nearest, to keep any more deadly charges like the captain’s to a minimum.

Ivan got into a duel with another Dullahan, but he was struggling—as loathe as I am to admit it, these Dullahans were clearly superior. They had brought knowledge of their battle tactics from life with them that I hadn’t managed to properly carry over with Ivan.

Roscoe on the other hand was doing an excellent job, despite having to avoid using his negative energy abilities. I fucking love Baykoks, easily the best undead pet. I might leave Ivan behind in Russia and just take Roscoe with me when we go back to Golarian. He can become an urban legend or something, wandering the snowy wastes.

Anyways, after the captain called out our names, the Lantern Goat seemed to take that as its cue to make a reappearance. It charged out from the tent it had been hiding in, and flashed its sickly light at us. Thankfully none of us fell into the panic it induced in less strong-willed individuals.

And now it was out in the open and completely exposed. I decided to hold off on the demon, which was shrouded in fog and would be a pain to attack now anyways, and threw everything I had at the Lantern Goat. Starting with a Destruction spell, empowered by the Pallid Princess to return this undead back to where it sprung from. The goat was still standing, just barely staggering forward. So I quickened a Boneshaker, and pulled it forward myself. Its bones ripped from its decaying flesh, and it fell in a heap. Its lantern fell atop it and shattered—releasing the soul trapped within.

While I had been busy with that, Nestian had taken care of the Dullahan captain and the insect demon. All that was left was one final Dullahan solder, which was looming over Ivan, who was struggling to fend him off. I directed Talsune towards the horsemen’s dual, and he cut down the final Dullahan. Keeping my pet alive for a little longer.

I still need him to use Death Calling on Rasputin to make up for his Dullahan captain doing the same to me, after all.

With the Dullahan encampment cleared, we only had three more locations to clear: the building with the ‘furry hunters’, the pit full of poisonous gas, and the Abbott House that made us feel an unnatural terror when we approached.

We chose the furry hunters first. And honestly this is barely worth a footnote. All that happened was that Nestian knocked on the door—as he does—and one answered. It turned out they were yetis, and the one that answered went to attack Nestian, but Nestian was faster and cut him down immediately. Then we cut the other three in the building down one-by-one, before any of them had an opportunity to act.

With that out of the way I suggested we deal with the pit next, as I had a plan to clear the poisonous gas and take the fight to the shambling creatures within rather than letting them get the jump on us at the Abbott House. The others agreed that this sounded preferable. So I dug out the Staff of Heaven and Earth that we got forever ago, that had been sitting in my bag of holding along with many other potentially useful trinkets, and I handed it off to Edeya so she could cast Control Winds through it.

She did, using her newfound command over the air to clear out the noxious fog in the pit at the back of the camp—revealing what was within. Two tanks and a legion of zombies with that same fog wafting off of them. And two large clouds of that gas that were unaffected by the wind—elementals of some sort, that were made of intelligent poisons and negative energy.

Aenland led the attack with a flurry of arrows that put both of the tanks out of commission. At the same time Nestian charged forward and cleared out the handful of living human combatants. Those that didn’t immediately fall before his axe had the smarts to flee—there was no victory here for them today.

I decided to spread a little chaos amongst their ranks. I enforced my will over half of the enemy zombies, severing their connection to the elementals that seemingly created them, and making them my own puppets instead. Then I set them loose against their former allies, having them turn on the other zombies and slaughter them—leaving us free to focus on the elementals. Talsune flew forward and burned away some of the nearest elemental’s gasses with his fiery breath. He was quickly followed up by an arrow from Roscoe.

On the other end of the battlefield I saw the other elemental make its move. It smothered Ivan and Cesseer. Ivan seemed perfectly fine—the gasses were made for the undead, so even as they ate at his flesh they also rejuvenated him.

Cesseer on the other hand wasn’t looking too good. We needed to clean this up quickly and get Edeya to her.

Fortunately, Aenland’s arrows shot through the elementals and cleared them out—good timing as Roscoe had made a misstep and had used negative energy on his bullets what healed one.

While I gathered up the remaining controlled zombies and had them gather together in convenient Searing Flames range to quickly wipe them out and get rid of loose ends, Edeya healed up Cesseer.

Then it was time to head back to the Abbott House.

Alexei suddenly became very timid, despite him agreeing with his sister about wanting to come with us this morning. He said that this was a very bad place, and we should leave it be.

But, obviously we couldn’t do that. There was something inside. Something we needed to see for ourselves.

We told the kids to get to safety away from the building while we explored.

Then Aenland decided he wasn’t going to do things the easy way—oh no—he decided it was time to go back to old tricks and take the window. He found the nearest window and smashed it, then climbed inside. A moment later I heard him messaging me over the Stone of Farspeech, informing me that he could hear Rasputin, and that he was going to hide.

I decided I wasn’t leaving him in there with Rasputin without any backup. Not when I had an ability now that could get me in and out unnoticed, virtually foolproof—or so I thought.

I handed off the Stone of Farspeech to Nestian and then used Spirit Walk to become incorporeal, vanishing onto the Ethereal Plane. From there I was able to simply walk through the wall into the room Aenland had hidden himself within. I could see the elf, pressed into a closet. I did not see Rasputin, nor did I hear any signs of him searching for Aenland.

I decided to do some scouting while my spirit form lasted.

I poked my head out of the door—and immediately came face-to-face with Rasputin.

He was seated casually on a sofa, lounging, toying with one of those nesting dolls, like the one he said Baba Yaga was trapped in.

He looked up when I entered and casually acknowledged me, stating he hadn’t seen me in spirit form in a long time.

I was so taken aback I simply admitted to him that I hadn’t expected him to be able to see me.

He laughed, noting that of course I wouldn’t if I didn’t remember anything. He then asked if it was just me here. I lied, telling him that it was—since I could become incorporeal I was ideal to scout ahead, so I’d come alone, I told him.

He said that was a shame, he’d intended to give us an opportunity to talk. But as it was, it would just be me and him.

He asked if there was anything I wanted to know from him.

I didn’t even hesitate to ask him what he knew about my past, what he knew that I didn’t remember or didn’t know.

He asked me something I wasn’t expecting. Did I want to know about Calio Caecos, or the Grim Rider?

I asked if there was really a difference.

He said superficially. It’s the same body, same abilities, adjacent personality, but there are differences. Calio is who I was at the start—and who I am now. And the Grim Rider is who I was when I worked for Elvana.

Rasputin said that I was never Baba Yaga’s rider, not back then at least. I was Elvana’s. When I went to Baba Yaga after leaving Keisuke with the mission to assassinate her, I’d refused her offer to be revived in exchange for a year of servitude. And somehow I found myself at Elvana’s doorstep instead, I ended up roped in with her plans to overthrow Baba Yaga, and I made a deal with her to become her rider instead. That’s why I was with her on Triaxus, and in Whitethrone.

I don’t get the logic behind it. I can see where I might have been too proud to accept servitude, as foolish as it might have been to seek out Baba Yaga just to refuse her, but then why turn around and lower myself to kneeling to Elvana?

The answer probably lies in the part Rasputin didn’t want to talk about.

He got evasive towards the end. He said he hated how the story ended. He hated how I betrayed them, and how I stood him up, and how he had to kill me and leave me in a ditch somewhere.

He tried to make me an offer to change things. To change that ending. Rasputin asked me to leave the others behind and to join him.

Obviously I said no. He had just told me to my face that he’d killed me once already. And besides…he’s not the winning side anymore.

…

I should be pissed. He killed me and threw out my body for the vultures. I should be chomping at the bit for revenge. I told him as much, that I always avenge myself when I’ve been wronged. Normally I’d be ready to swear to Norgorber how slow and painful his death will be for how he’s crossed me.

But I just feel tired.

I almost feel like I should have expected this. Of course I was working with Elvana all along. Of course Rasputin and I were lovers. Of course I betrayed him, probably on some ill-advised power grab I’d been planning since I first bent a knee to his sister, and of course he killed me.

I should be mad that he killed me, or surprised that I’ve apparently died not once but twice in the last year, but all I can feel about it is unspeakably drained.

When I refused, Rasputin just sighed and said he had to try, right?

I just nodded. Yeah. I suppose so.

I hate it that I can see where in another life I could have cared.

Rasputin told me to go get the others. He had something he needed to discuss with all of us. We’d taken something of his, and he wanted to negotiate. Although he felt he knew my answer already from our talk.

Seeing as he’d only started talking about us ‘taking something’ since we’d rescued Anastasia and Alexei—yeah, that was going to be a hard sell. For any of us—I was hardly going to be the most difficult of the lot.

I didn’t end up needing to go fetch the others, as it turned out. At that moment, Aenland sneezed loudly and there was a loud crash in the room where he’d been hiding. He slammed the door open and began accusing Rasputin of laying a trap for him. I sighed, informing Rasputin that my friends were, in fact, idiots. Then I dropped my spirit form.

At about that time Nestian, Edeya, and Cesseer came barreling in through the front entrance, having heard the commotion of Aenland crashing about.

So Rasputin had what he wanted, we were all gathered.

He informed us that he wanted Anastasia back. In return he would inform us where the dolls holding Baba Yaga were. He claimed that he wanted to keep Anastasia safe. He seemed genuinely upset about  what had happened to her—the fact he’d had to resurrect her from almost nothing after her family was massacred. I’m good at reading people, and I couldn’t believe it, but he seemed sincere.

Still, he was doing a shit job, no matter how sincere he was. With him she was surrounded by the undead specters of her former guards, sadistic monsters who experiment on humans for fun, and the manifestations of different facets of death. Even if she was physically safe—which isn’t a guarantee with Kytons and Daemons about—that can’t be good for her mental health.

Then Nestian brought up a good point. What about her brother? Rasputin hadn’t said a single word about Alexei.

Rasputin’s face twisted, and he smashed the doll he was holding as he asked ‘what about him?’

His laughter echoed as he disappeared, replaced by four phantoms. Three young girls, and a young boy.

The boy was too familiar. It was very clearly Alexei.

The phantoms were clearly in distress, but also hostile. We had no choice but to fight back against them.

So we did, releasing their souls one-by-one. Their voices echoed a quiet ‘thank you’ as they faded away with a final blow. Alexei first. Then each of the girls—Anastasia’s three sisters.

When it was done, the room was quiet. Rasputin was gone. I wanted to scream. I was tired of him toying with us. I was tired of him.

Nestian had another thought, and had run out the front door.

A few moments later there was shouting out front. I ran for the front door in time to see a horrific sight. The mangled body of what was once Alexei, with two dragon heads protruding from his shoulder blades, far too large for his small frame. He was holding another of those Matryoshka Dolls in his hands—from the quick glance I saw this one looked almost lightning scarred. But then in an instant he was gone as he cast Plane Shift.

That dragon den we’d seen before. Now we knew who it belonged to. And what secret this Radimir had been keeping an eye on for Rasputin.

Alexei had been dead all along. There had been no survivors of the Romanovs’ execution—but Rasputin had deigned to bring Anastasia back. Only Anastasia.

Anastasia was horrified at what she’d just seen—rightfully so. But then with an astounding amount of willpower she pulled herself together. She told us that there was something else still in the Abbott House, and she didn’t want to leave until we’d seen this through to the end. We could hardly deny her, not when she was pushing through so much to keep going forward. Besides, it was to our benefit to purge the house of whatever was haunting it as well.

We returned to the house, and Nestian opened the last remaining door. Within were a half dozen wraiths holding a séance binding a single ghost woman.

When we opened the door, a few of the wraiths left their positions and floated through the walls to attack us with their touch that chilled to the soul.

I threw a Flame Strike into the room, setting everything within ablaze.

Aenland ended up surrounded by three wraiths, but he handled himself fine. Nestian and Cesseer pushed into the room and began clearing out the wraiths within.

After a few moments we had cleared out the haunting specters, and all that was left was the ghost woman. She introduced herself as Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna—Anastasia’s mother. She was relieved to hear that one of her daughters was alive and well. This was enough to begin her transition to the afterlife—although she held on to the material plane for long enough to say goodbye to her daughter. Nestian went to fetch Anastasia.

I made some blithe comment to the Tsarina, and she spoke to me, referring to me as the Grim Rider. So apparently even she knew who I once was.

Anastasia was so happy to see her mother that she tried to fling herself into her arms—but of course she passed right through, her being a ghost and all. The two of them talked. Laughed, even. Then Anastasia asked her mother if Rasputin was her real father.

Oh. Yeah that would explain a few things.

Her mother confirmed. Which meant that Anastasia was the legitimate heir to Irrisen’s throne, as Baba Yaga’s granddaughter. Which is why Rasputin didn’t want Elvana to know about her—she was a threat to her rule.

Anastasia told her mother to forgive her, because she was going to commit a sin—she was going to commit patricide, because Rasputin had to die.

Her mother fully endorsed this choice, and asked Aenland to give Anastasia her family heirlooms, which the elf had apparently picked up somewhere. It was a fine uniform and a sleek gun. Anastasia handled the gun expertly—certainly with more precision than I ever could, I’m more of a spell user than a marksman.

Anastasia’s mother passed on to the Boneyard, and we began our trek back to the Dancing Hut. As we walked, Anastasia spoke to me. She checked in if I still had amnesia—I very much still do, despite having more answers now I still don’t actually remember shit. She assured me that once I got my memories back, it would feel good to have them—even the bad parts.

He declared he would show me how much smarter he was, before calling down several bolts of lightning. Stormbolt. A very powerful spell.

Rasputin left, laughing at us, but my brain was working on something too much to listen to that shithead.

His power, the way he cast it, the way he received power, the spells he used…

Rasputin was like me.

His magic came from the same kind of place. Only instead of being in some way close to undeath, his soul was stitched to his body so he couldn’t die.

Stupid bastard hit the jackpot. Got immortality without even trying. I have to actually work for it.

I made the terrible executive decision of telling the others about this revelation, and they realized he was also a necromancer like me. Aenland started off that he was a ‘boner’, which I agreed to because it was calling him a boner instead of me. Then Edeya went and added ‘you were both boners together’, and I had the realization that I almost certainly fucked him, and then no one was having fun anymore.

In my defense, he would have easily been the most powerful person in the room barring Elvana—who was obviously off limits if I wanted to live—and he’s not a bad looking man. He’s just a total prat.

The worst part is we probably got along when I was the Grim Rider. I can easily imagine a time where I would have enjoyed the presence of someone like him. It’s not like Nazhena and Pavril, who knowing I’d been friends with them made my skin crawl. Rasputin is at least as terrible as them, and I want to make it quite clear that I hate him in current day. Yet I can see where in another life I’d have found the way he’s toying with his enemies amusing, and his tactics and use of necromancy very much to my style.

It annoys me to think about. Besides, knowing me, it was still all a ploy for more power or just because he’d be a fun lay. The Grim Rider didn’t care about Rasputin. And I won’t care about cutting his life short.

After we healed up from getting electricity dropped on us by a stupidly powerful spell, using up a nice chunk of our resources first thing in the morning, we made for the tranches. We made a parameter around the camp, clearing out all of the trenches and towers one after another—only avoiding the one that was covered in that miscolored poisonous smoke coming from the back of the camp.

Around the back of the camp, we came upon the graveyard—and the Tombstone Fairy we’d been told to meet. Paulina, who was busy digging up skeletons. She waved a shovel in our direction and asked if we were Rasputin’s goons. I told her, quite the opposite in fact, we were here to save his dear mother.

That got her attention. She would speak to those working for Baba Yaga. She told us about a man whose name started with an M—a hunchback with a metal leg—who had helped to build the towers Rasputin was using to control the lightning. He was apparently going to be the key to getting into the real cathedral in the center, as shining the four lights on it to see it wasn’t going to be enough to actually enter the First World where the cathedral was actually located. But Paulina told us where to find M’s body and soul, and even said she would resurrect him for us if we brought him back here with his soul free.

Unfortunately, his body and soul were in two separate places. His body was being held by the Baykoks, and the soul was being held by the ‘weird goat’ we’d heard about. Turns out I was right that it wasn’t Pavril’s familiar. Paulina described the creature in question, a goat with a lantern around its neck that trapped souls, and I recognized it from tales from my childhood. A Lantern Goat. Undead that lead people away into the woods in the guise of a helpful guide, then steal their souls after they’re lost and dying and alone in the frozen wastes.

Paulina offered to resurrect M if we could free his soul and return his body to her. She also told us about a ‘little grandmother’ who she felt we should meet, in one of the other buildings. She was going to offer to revive us if it came to that, but apparently we’re all ‘too pleasant’.

From what I gather about Tombstone Fairies, she means none of us fall in the universe’s arbitrary definition of ‘evil’.

Almost a shame I’m apparently not quite enough of a bastard to have that failsafe—but then, I don’t plan on dying, so with any luck it won’t be a problem.

We left Paulina and finished clearing out the trenches and guard towers. Then we made for the front entrance. Nevra did the honors of busting open the second electrified gate.

And then that rat bastard Rasputin appeared again.

We tried to scatter, knowing we couldn’t fight him and knowing he was going to throw some kind of spell at us.

Unfortunately, Talsune and I weren’t fast enough. My partner got hit by a Destruction spell—probably aimed for me. Rasputin laughed, calling after me that he’d hit my mount. I told him to shove it.

That fucking hurt. Talsune was in bad shape. I’m going to give that bastard as much and more when we finally get onto the same plane of existence as that coward.

And things didn’t end there. Before we could even regroup, lightning fell from the sky, striking Talsune and I, and a few of the others. My partner has always been stoic, and he didn’t outwardly show it, but he was hurting, and he was on his last legs.

Aenland spotted that the lightning had come from a building towards the back of the camp that was supposedly empty according to the map Dimitry had given us. It would seem we had more to investigate there.

For now, however, we saw the last remaining tanks currently powered down and parked at their stations to the side of the gate. We decided to take them out before they could be a future problem.

Nestian threw his necklace of fireballs, and I ignited them with a well placed Screaming Flames. The living tanks awoke—but they didn’t get a chance to react before Nevra and Talsune swooped in and breathed fire and lightning across the constructs’ metal shell, causing it to spark and melt, and finally shut down entirely.

Talsune returned to my side, and I asked Edeya to heal him while we planned our next move.

We decided to start moving more stealthily through the camp—and hopefully not get jumped by Rasputin a third time. We would start in the building inhabited by the Baykoks, and move our way around the parameter.

So it was that we snuck to the building, and kicked down the door into a long building full of Baykoks wielding rifles surrounding a single Meladaemon. The daemon—the personification of death by starvation—was clutching a corpse, about to devour it. It was the corpse we needed, the hunchback with a metal leg.

Fortunately our sudden appearance distracted the outsider from its meal.

And when I took control of one of the Baykoks and made it start shooting the daemon, it was permanently distracted. Although Aenland got the final shot on the gluttonous beast. I don’t mind, I got the real prize here—I’m keeping this Baykok, unlike the one from the fortress in the Dancing Hut that I left behind.

Since I’m keeping him, I named him Roscoe.

We stuffed the corpse into my bag of holding for the time being, and then continued on to the next building—the barracks where the prisoners had been held.

There was no one in this building—no one living. The place was the site of a massacre. Bodies littered the floor, with the tell-tale puncture wounds on their necks of vampire bites. The nosferatu brothers hadn’t conserved their food source very well.

Man, Rasputin couldn’t even have the decency to go and shack up with the sexy kind of vampire. Nosferatu are no fun. Moroi are where it’s at.

They’re antipaladins of the Pallid Princess…they probably won’t be easy to dominate. But man what if I did though? Remind them that Urgathoa gives necromancers superiority over the undead…

Eh, we’ll see how I’m feeling when we fight them.

After we left the slaughter house, we went to check out Rasputin’s old abode—the Abbott House.

When we approached the door I got the deepest sense of dread I’ve ever felt. The Geass in my chest began telling me to leave, and my own instincts were telling me the same. Something about that place was wrong. I’m not an easily frightened person, and that place made me feel like a terrified child, hiding from the monsters lurking around every corner on a stormy night.

Before any of us managed to get up the courage to try to open the door—it seemed that the dread of that place had seeped into all of us—Nestian spotted a woman in the well behind us.

She was a fey woman, a Rusalka. She wanted our help to kill her rival in romance, as Rasputin had dumped her in favor of a daemon of heartbreak—a Erodaemon. Because that’s really smart. Dating a creature who’s the embodiment of death by heartbreak. That can’t end badly at all.

(Yeah we’re going to ignore the fact I’d probably have done the exact same thing in his spot a year ago.)

The Rusalka told us that if we tried to enter the Abbott House, all of the creatures within the poisonous gas fog in the nearby trench would rush out and attack us. So that was good to know to be ready for. Maybe I can even think of some way to clear up that fog to get a look at what we’ll have to deal with ahead of time.

She also told us about a little boy who had ran into the Surgical Theatre. He was apparently usually with his sister, but she hadn’t seen his sister in a while. The Rusalka knew that a Doctor inhabited the Theatre—an outsider with barbed wire strung all around it, that liked experimenting on prisoners.

Obviously, we decided to save the house of horrors for later, and went to try to find the child and keep him from being this Doctor’s next victim.

We snuck our way to the Surgical Theatre. I sent Ivan and Roscoe around back, while we went through the front doors. Within there were horrific creatures—twisted beings of glorified pain. Kytons. Feral Kytons led by this twisted Doctor—another type of Kyton we never identified.

The Feral Kytons leapt at Nestian, who was the first in the door. Chaos broke loose as the back door burst open and Roscoe began firing arrows into the Kytons. Talsune and I worked on cutting down the ones attacking Nestian. Aenland shot half a dozen arrows into the Doctor and felled him before he got a moment to react. Nestian’s axe felled another, followed by Cesseer’s shotel. Aenland finished off the one Roscoe had paralyzed—and all went quiet.

We searched the room, and found a small closet. We figured that must be where the children were hiding. I sent the undead away to guard the doors, and the dragonkin stepped back so as to not crowd or frighten them.

When we opened the door two children stepped out. A young boy, and a teenage girl. The boy introduced himself as Alexei, and the girl was his sister, Anastasia Romanov. The girl was a bit shaky, she seemed not entirely sure of where she was. She told us that she believed they had been taken by the people who had killed their parents. But she was having a hard time remembering things.

Something about her demeanor rang a bell in my head. It wasn’t a common ailment back home, but it was known to happen from time to time. Resurrection sickness.

Whoever this young lady was—she likely hadn’t survived what had been done to her family. The boy may not have either, although he seemed to have faired better if that is the case.

I didn’t inform the girl that she had died—I know from experience that that isn’t exactly easy news to learn, and especially for an already somewhat traumatized young girl. Especially for one who isn’t familiar with magic. It was better to keep it quiet for now. I did telepathically share with the others what I had realized, so that they would be informed incase it turned out to be vital information.

On the way back to the Dancing Hut, we talked to the children about what Anastasia could remember. Her family had been the rulers of this country—which made her and Alexei the equivalent of a prince and princess, although they seemed to use different terms here for their nobility. But there had been a rebellion, and people had come and killed her family. She was pretty sure a servant had rescued her.

Nestian floated the idea that Rasputin had kept the children to keep them safe. I shot that down immediately. I might not remember the man, but I knew enough from what I’d seen of him—and of the Grim Rider—to put two and two together to know that he wasn’t that sort of person. No kindness lurked hidden in his heart. If he’d brought them here at all, he’d done it for his own gain.

Finally, we arrived back to the Dancing Hut. The Hut quick hopping about for the first time since we’d arrived to the prison camp, and walked over to greet us.

Not us—it walked over to greet Anastasia. It *bowed* to the young woman, and suddenly Baba Yaga’s voice rang out from the Hut. The ancient woman’s voice called the young girl granddaughter, and told her to claim her birthright.