Chapter 7

Dane's tunic clung to his back, almost inseparable, sticky with cold sweat.

'Something's wrong…,' he thought as he fidgeted with the dagger's hilt, his eyes grim as the night.

The snakes were not there when he had looked into the well only moments ago. Were they hiding underneath the water? Why did they surface when the light came?

'I'm missing something,'

When the ball of flame fell, they did not react. They reacted when the fire exploded, just late enough so that they were not burned…but why? These serpents were likely dormant beasts and very much mindless. Such creatures would never expose themselves to something so dangerous. Furthermore, serpents sensed heat.

Dane had studied thousands of Nightmares, from written records to shared memories, but he had never seen something like this. This was too unusual, impossible even. Unless…no, the Spell set up trials, not executions. Though he thought that, he did not let the possibility out of his mind.

He shook his head, questioning the serpents' odd actions. Did the knight's fire have a unique quality to it? It looked normal. Were they trying to achieve something? To strike terror into the people's hearts? What did they gain by revealing themselves?

As he pondered, Sir ordered the men under his command to rush to the town's water storage to protect it from other serpents, if there were any, or from people.

"Listen to me! Head to your homes. I will deal with this…go. Now!" he barked at the trembling people and turned to Dane when they dispersed.

"You were right…" he sighed. "You as well, boy, go home."

Dane looked at the knight silently, coming up with excuses, and shook his head with a sorry smile, "I cannot."

Before Sir could speak, he continued.

"I am Dane, a wanderer, and I have neither enough water nor food to leave. I doubt I'll be getting much water with the state of things, and I don't have money for room and board.

"I'll need to work for it, and you seem to need help. I'm good with my head, and my skill with the blade is good…I also have some powers, though not like yours. Mine are mere Attributes."

The knight looked at Dane, studying him.

He said, "The make of that dagger, it's from here, isn't it?"

Dane nodded.

"You bought weapons but not food or boarding," he mused, his reddish eyes narrowing. "Quite sloppy for a wanderer."

Dane paused for a second. The Awakened was sharp, very sharp.

He explained, "I bought these hoping to offer protection to merchants in exchange for taking care of my necessities while on the road," he stopped, his words wistful. "On second thought, I shouldn't have done so. The merchants won't leave this town for a while, not without water."

"Very well. What powers do you have?" the knight asked, turning to the well.

Dane sighed softly, his breath steaming in the cold of the tall hill.

"I can see in the dark, the cold does not phase me, and I can see souls…of the living and the dead," he told him.

The knight froze. Dane could not see the man's steaming breath anymore. He was holding his breath, he deduced.

He chuckled self-deprecatingly, "Everyone acts just like you. Even the dead run from me! As if I'm some evil warlock…no worries there, I was born this way."

The knight breathed again.

His words were melancholic and subtly resigned, "You misunderstand. I have no care for your past…I was just looking forward to the Realm of Shadows," he stopped. "Convince a soul to scout the well and the tunnel below the hill that leads to a dry section of the well…we will attempt to draw the serpents out somehow."

Dane pierced through the veil and looked for the dead souls, specifically Jackal. He saw them all. They were oddly gathered together further down the hill near a natural parapet.

He pointed at them, gaining Sir's attention, and walked downward, expecting the knight to follow. The knight obliged.

The souls whispered amongst themselves, some sorrowful and some gleeful. Jackal stood ahead of them all, her featureless face tense.

When they arrived, Jackal looked at Dane with unease.

"What's wrong?" he asked her, and the knight looked at the empty spot Dane looked at seriously.

Jackal said nothing, biting her lip, and pointed at the jagged wall of the hill's cliff, just under the cathedral. He followed her finger and found an opening in the rock. It was a tall and imposing open gate that connected to a narrow road carved in the cliff, bared to the open sea from the right-hand side, that led to it.

He looked at Jackal with a silent question.

When she did not respond, another soul stepped closer. Unlike Jackal and the rest, it had bodily characteristics. The man of many years had a shaggy beard and a balding head. He sported a kind but tense smile on his face.

"We saw a corrupted one, a serpent of iron or silver, climbing the cliff and entering the gate. It was around twenty feet long. Tell Sir it turned right," he almost shuddered.

Dane's heart caught in his throat. He looked fearfully at the gate. "When?" he whispered. The knight did not miss the change in his behavior.

The old soul scratched his beard, "A few minutes ago, five maybe, we were watching it the whole time."

Five minutes ago, when the snakes revealed themselves to the crowd…it was a distraction. It was planned.

"I know how we can kill those damn serpents," he told the knight softly, his voice barely a whisper. "We just have to kill the Tyrant that's leading it."

Once again, his fears had come true.