When Heroes Die

“Always recall: While the Fae are bound by stories, they know more of them than you do.”

– ‘Essences of the Fae’, written by Madeline de Jolicoeur

“S’pose you can tell me what the big decision was then?” Songbird asked while saddling her horse.

The smell of hay and manure was thick in the air. I wasn’t sure if filtering scents was something that I could achieve with the Light, but it was on my long list of experiments to conduct.

“Big decision?” I paused brushing my own horse and squinted over its back towards her.

The sun had yet to rise, and it was hard to see.

Pandora nipped at me. I yelped and pulled back my hand. It seemed she disapproved.

“I’ll give you a sugar cube later if you behave,” I told my new horse.

Songbird let out an amused snort.

Pandora flicked one of her white ears at me. She was allegedly a pure-bred Liessen charger. I was dubious of that, but wasn’t about to press. I assumed Songbird was kidding about it. This was the wrong side of the continent for it to be anything but an amusing and ultimately harmless jest.

If it was true, then I wasn’t even sure how Songbird had acquired her.

“Well,” she gestured vaguely at me, “you’re not floating stuff around when you forget or cheating at cards. Half the time you glow, and you both look and sound like you just walked out of the church. Figured there must’ve been some big change.”

I blinked.

Oh, right.

I hadn’t spoken to either her or Roland about what had happened yet.

“Complicated. I’m different now. Can’t do the same things.”

“S’pose you can tell me what you can do?”

“I’m harder to kill.”

“Y’know if that’s s’posed to tell me anything, it doesn’t. Y'were basically unkillable.”

I turned my attention back to Pandora. She radiated contentment as I brushed her down.

“I gave up the stories of my old world. Anyone can step into the Roles now. I can also wield the Light.”

“Lotsa people can do that,” Songbird did not sound impressed.

“I’m experimenting. Seeing what I can achieve with it.”

I finished brushing down Pandora, then fed her a cube. She was a far more greedy horse than Sisyphus had been. He had been content with not much at all.

“S’pose that explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“S’not important. Anyhow, s’pose we have lots to talk about.” Songbird finished up with her horse, then started to leave.

I filed the deflection away at the back of my mind.

“Yeah,” I followed behind her.

“Roland,” she stopped by a stone, square well covered by a thatch roof. She drew water from it, then started to wash her hands. I stepped out beside her and stood on the opposite side of the well.

“Yes. Roland.” I kept my voice flat and my eyes locked on the muddy brown irises of hers.

“That was a mistake,” she grimaced at me. “Meant it as a small joke. Something harmless. Y’should’ve told me that he’s attracted to intimidating women with more power than him wearing white. I prodded him a little, let him know what you’ve been up to. His mind ran away with it.”

“I’m not intimidating.”

“And I’m honest.” She blinked.

“That’s the problem.”

“I know.”

“Even if you’re telling the truth, I have no way of confirming it.”

I hoped that Songbird developed a dream again. I hoped that if she did, it would be a healthy dream.

“Y’don’t need to tell me that.”

Songbird stepped away and I took her place. I knelt, tipped the contents of the bucket onto the cobbled road, then lowered it once more.

“How do we make this work?”

“Like you said: I’ll run any schemes past you.”

I tugged at the rope, then took a moment to wash my own hands now that the pail was full. The cool water stung in the frosty autumn air.

“Doesn’t help with the lies.”

“S’pose that’s gonna be the dealbreaker, then?”

Should I turn her down?

I paused and considered what to say. I was conflicted. There was a lot of baggage here, and it felt like setting myself up for disappointment. It would be wiser to reject her.

“Things aren’t going to be the same,” I turned to my right and told her.

Songbird was juggling a group of rocks while she waited for me.

“Y’really letting me join again?” she froze. The rocks cluttered on the ground.

“I am,” the words forced their way out of my teeth. “I’m never going to see my old world again. That doesn’t matter. I would like it if the people there were willing to give me another chance if I ever did show up there.”

It was technically Songbird’s third chance, but it was also her last one.

“Things won’t be the same.” Songbird repeated what I said in a subdued tone of voice.

“They won’t, but… maybe one day there can be something new.”

“Better than I expected.”

I finished washing up and poured my bucket out as well.

I leaned into the Light for a moment. It helped to steady my thoughts.

Lying was important to Songbird. I was sure of it. I didn’t know why, but I doubted she would ever stop doing it. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t try, but it was best to start with limitations that she wouldn’t chafe at.

“Stick to white lies. Things that make people’s lives better. If you’re not sure, ask me.”

“S’pose you’re heading to the Church now.”

“I am.”

“I’ll get ready for when we leave.”

She split off from me.

Leaving the stables, I took a brief detour back to my room and made sure to freshen up. Roland fell into step beside me as I exited the keep.

“Fair tidings to you, Taylor.”

“Morning.”

“Where’s Yvie?” I asked.

“Your enthusiastic apprentice has seen fit to go on ahead.”

“Daughter, not apprentice.”

“Is the aura you radiate intentional, if it is not too delicate to ask?”

I grimaced and started to will it away.

“Not intentional. Bad habit I’ve picked up.”

“That was not a reprimand. The effect casts your features in a better light.”

I stepped off the road for a moment and walked into a side alley outside a forge. The loud clanging from inside muffled the sound of our voices.

“I think it looks gaudy,” I told him.

“It accentuates your hair and draws attention to the brown of your eyes.”

My eyes narrowed. I looked him over from top to bottom. Leather coat on top of chain mail vest, silver bangles, mismatched rings and silks of every colour draped across his shoulders. He didn’t look like the kind of man I should be taking fashion advice from.

“Not to be rude, but…”

“My appearance does nothing to support the lay of my thoughts.” He sounded amused, but not offended.

“Exactly.”

“My dress is for practicality, not appearance.”

I was maybe willing to buy that when it came to some of the items he wore. I’d been with him when he acquired them. The silks though… No.

“I’m still not enthused.”

“Then consider what it will do for the spirits of those at the House of Light. It’s a clear sign of your choosing.”

That was a better argument. I still didn’t like it, but I was willing to give it some thought.

“I’ll think about it.”

“That is all that I ask,” he winked at me.

I bit my lip in thought. It was important that I phrased what I said next with care.

“Look, Roland. I know you like me, but a relationship won’t work. You like to travel. That isn’t a problem, but I intend to put down roots.”

“Does my intent to court you give offence?”

“Sort of,” I admitted. “I don’t like you that way. I’ve always seen you as a friend. Perhaps something could develop there, but it would take time. You have a lot going for you. I just don’t see you being happy with me. If you were to be with me, you’d be chained to one place.”

Should I have denied him outright? I wasn’t sure. There was so much potential for this to end in tears. It didn’t help that he had given up looking for me so quickly… but I was willing to acknowledge that perhaps I was being unreasonable there.

“You are not planning to take to the road once more?”

“No.”

“I will dwell on this, but it is my choice to make.”

His dream had weakened, but otherwise remained unchanged.

We picked up our pace once more and lapsed into silence. For now, I had no intent to glow.

I felt both stronger and more at home as I stepped through the doors of the church. It came as no surprise to me. I also felt reinvigorated at dawn and drained at dusk. Times and places with spiritual connection to the Light caused my powers to wax.

I made my way to the lectern after entering the House of Light and waited for everyone to file in. Only half an hour later and the place was packed. Sister Olivia gave me a few words of encouragement, then took a seat on one of the pews.

I hope that I don’t make a fool out of myself.

“I know most of you are expecting a reading from the Book of All Things. Maybe for me to take some time to talk about scripture.” I paused and surveyed the crowd.

Roland was seated near the front on my left, with Yvie right beside him.

“It may come as a surprise, but I’ll be preaching about something different. I come from a far away land and while I share faith in our Gods, how that belief is expressed is different. I’ll be talking about why Good will one day win, and why our Gods deserve our faith in them. There will be some audience participation here, so when I ask for an opinion, don’t hesitate to raise your hand and give one.”

The audience looked surprised at my declaration. There were quiet murmurings in the crowd. That was only to be expected. They came to the House of Light expecting a sermon in the vein of what they were used to, and… I spoke about something entirely different.

“Think of Creation as a game played out by those of us on the ground. The game goes like this. Two people play the simple version. There’s a box and inside the box is two weeks worth of pay. Each person can write down whether they want to take all the coins for themselves, or share it with the other person.”

The murmuring died down. I hoped that they understood the intent of my speech. That even if we came from different places and worshipped in different ways, we were faithful to the same Gods.

“If both vote to take all the coins, neither of them receive any coins. If both vote to share the coins, it's all split between them. However, if one votes to share and the other votes to keep it all, the one who votes to keep it all claims the prize. They cannot communicate between each other while deciding, and nor do they have any idea who the other person is. Which way should the players vote?”

I would have liked to have props for this, but unfortunately I didn’t have enough time to prepare them.

The hand of a teen with wavy black hair on the second row shot up into the air.

“Yes?”

“I think they should both vote to share the money.”

“Why is that?”

“Everyone benefits that way.”

A man with a wrinkled face and greying hair raised his hand from the back row and croaked out a different opinion.

“They should both vote to take everything because if either votes to share then the other can screw them over.”

The discussion lasted for about a hundred heartbeats before I eventually brought it to a close.

“As you all worked out on your own, the answer is easy in the simple version of the game. If they can’t communicate, then they should both try to take everything. The end result is that both the players claim nothing.”

I realized that at some point during my talk I had started to glow.

I’ll live with it.

It was annoying, but I’d already messed up. I’d need to pay closer attention in future. It was so easy to slip into. Much like offloading my tells into bugs in the past. Except now, it was a small boost to how fast I thought and reacted. It was also far more visible when I did it.

“Creation is like a more complicated version of this game that repeats over and over. The rules are also different. Communication between players is allowed. Every person is another player, and every decision is a choice made in the same light. To be Good is to choose to face these choices with guidance, and to be Evil is to face them alone in the dark. To win is to have the most coins at the end of the game after playing an indeterminate number of rounds. Now, I know what you’re thinking. If there is an easy answer to the simple version of the game, is the same true for the more complicated version?”

I paused and licked my lips.

“There isn’t,” I continued. “There isn’t, because people can decide to band together and because we learn a small amount about each other in every round that occurs. Our Gods are there for us and can guide us, pointing out who to trust with sharing, or who to avoid, or what strategies won’t work.”

A hesitant hand was raised in the crowd. It was an elderly woman who was seated close to what I presumed to be her husband. This was more participation than I had been expecting, but I was willing to play along.

“Yes?”

“What about Evil?”

“Those who worship Evil can also work together, but they do so blind. Their Gods will not guide them. They navigate a world with selfish motives where the more they act, the more people they upset. To worship at the altar of self-interest is to play an ever-increasing series of these games, where everyone can see what kind of people villains are. A large enough opposition will always form, and see them cast down.”

Another hand was raised from the back. Songbird.

She had better not be about to cause trouble for me.

“S’pose you can tell us why you believe?”

Right.

“Our Gods deserve our faith because they have our best interests at heart. They do know better than us, they are willing to guide us, and that guidance is good. Both the moral guidance and the more personal guidance. Look to the Angels and the virtues they represent. They are not all the same, but all of them make Calernia better in moderation. So if you’re faced with a problem you don’t know the answer to, you’ve made a genuine attempt to solve it, and you don’t know where to look for help… pray. Our Gods are always here for all of us, you just need to reach out to them.”

My speech did not go on for much longer than that before we started to pray. My throat was parched, but I felt content. Their beliefs and mine weren’t an exact match. They didn’t need to be. There was enough in common that I could share the parts of my faith that did not contradict with their own. It was also something that I wanted to do.

The rest of the hour was spent helping people out with more mundane complications. Healing wounds, resolving small disputes. The trivial day-to-day kinds of issues that I typically did not have to deal with.

I was about to leave the House of Light when a girl — maybe ten summers of age — approached me. She was skittish. It was like she was trying to build up the courage to ask me a question.

“Chosen,” she greeted me.

“Yes?”

“What oath did you give?” Her grey eyes were pinned to the ground and her chalk white fingers fidgeted.

“Why do you ask?”

“I want to be a priestess one day, but I’m not sure if I can swear off hurting others.”

“And you wanted to know if my oath was any easier.”

“Yes.”

“I swore to redeem myself,” I chose my words with care. “To always consider everything I did at least twice. To seek out better solutions, even if they are inconvenient. I promised to always be willing to accept guidance and to not be afraid to ask for it. For every step I took to leave me a better person than I was before.”

“I could swear that,” she muttered to herself.

“It sounds easier than swearing off violence. It isn’t. Choices are a lot more murky when they aren’t made in consideration of an absolute. You should also wait until you’re older. Think things through.” She… wasn’t listening to a word that I said.

“Would you accept my oath?” she was chewing on one of her strands of platinum blonde hair while she talked.

“The oath isn’t to me. It’s to our Gods.”

My refusal did nothing to deter her. She scampered off back towards her parents. Her dream pulsed stronger on the way out. She would be a priestess one day. I was sure of it. Helping her along her path made me feel warm inside.

I said my farewells to everyone present, then departed in silence. The other three joined me on the way out.

“I didn’t need to go to the House of Light to hear all of that ma I can hear it from you at any time think about what I could have done with that hour,” Yvette grumbled.

I had hoped that she would change her mind on this. It could have been both a way for her to find friends and something to bond over.

“If you really aren’t happy, then you don’t need to come next time,” I told her.

Not that it didn’t disappoint me. Magic had been something we could bond over in the past. While I could still read through theory with her, she had far outstripped what I had known already. It felt like I was holding her back when I tried to assist her with sorcery, rather than helping her to progress.

She perked up.

It took a few more hails for us to all prepare for departure. The light of dawn warmed us as we set off into the mountains.

The road south beckoned.

I hoped that my messages were enough to start mitigating the new stories.

I hoped that I didn’t arrive too late to help.

“Just because Trismegistan sorcery is more precise doesn’t mean that it’s better in every case Roland I’ve never heard of a Praesi sorcerer skilled in esoteric transmutations before and that’s what I’m trying to specialize in-” Yvette argued with Roland on the opposite side of the fire.

“If you would just allow me to expl-”

“And have you ever seen a Praesi sorcerer do anything like these runes from the city in the Chain of Hunger.”

“What about Pelagian sorcery?” Songbird teased.

“Don’t bait them,” I groaned.

“Artefacts crafted using Pelagian sorcery tend to be remarkably long-lasting compared with-”

“If anything Pelagian sorcery is just a bad copy of the Titan’s magic so I don’t see any reason to think about it ma always criticized me for bad sorcery and that’s all Pelagian sorcery is how long until the food is ready anyhow.”

That wasn’t what I had taught her. She had become opinionated fast.

“Not any time yet.” I replied.

“S’pose those two won’t stop arguing any time soon.” Songbird whispered from beside me.

She turned the deer over on the spit in front of us.

“Not likely,” I agreed.

“Y’really arrived in Constance’s Scar.”

“It’s the reason I asked to take this detour. I’ve not visited it once, and it's along the route we’re travelling anyhow. It won’t even extend our journey by a day.”

“Well, when the ghosts attack us, I know who to blame.”

“I’m not worried about ghosts.”

“M’not worried about them either. Light’s good for killing undead. ‘Sides, army of ghosts has Shining Priestess written all over it.”

“That’s not my Name.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Can you show me that harmonica of yours again Roland I had some ideas for foci for my own magic everything I do is a ritual of some kind and if I can design something that can act as a multipurpose catalyst I could make my own casting much easier.”

Roland reached into his jacket and pulled the battered instrument out once again.

“I still hold to it that you should seek to follow a different path.”

“You’re being too cautious ma always said that you were the more bold one when she talked about travelling with you.”

“S’pose you can tell me what your plan is then?”

“Complicated. Heroes are in theory a part of the church. Short term: I want to give them more reasons to interact with the church. Create a body of knowledge for them to draw upon, or make tools available for them to use. Give them incentives to work within the system more. Medium term: I want to make their role in the church official within the Principate. Found a new organization under the umbrella of the church dedicated to regulating Named conflict.”

They weren’t the only changes I wanted to bring to the church. There were many others, but they were the most significant. While in the long term I was prepared to allow such an organization to regulate itself, for now I wanted to be the leader. Other heroes were far too willing to cut each other some slack. Laurence was blunt about how she only viewed laws as being there when they didn’t inconvenience her, and I was sure many other heroes held to the same belief.

“Treading new ground is bold but also fraught with perils, Yvette. There can be wisdom on following a path broken in by others.”

“That’s nice but if the magic you used could solve my problems then they would already be dealt with.”

Roland turned my way. “It sounds like you intend to embark on an ambitious undertaking.”

“I do, but it’s necessary. Heroes and Villains already operate under different rules. It’s stupid to pretend otherwise. Better for us to define those rules and then use heroes to enforce them.”

Bitter wind howled around us. The sun had set only an hour past, and early winter chills had begun to encroach. Farmers along the road had long since withdrawn to the safety of the city walls. I warmed my hands by the fire.

“How’d you plan to sell it to the Princes.”

“I think that’s the easy part.” I answered Songbird. “There are no consequences for a hero chopping off their heads. Afterwards, there will be. Granted, there will only be consequences if the chopping is unearned but…”

“Many heroes will not agree to abide by these rules of engagement,” Roland warned.

“They will. They will face justice if they don’t. In an ideal situation, we will have a group of heroes acting as a legal enforcer, but in the worst case I’m willing to swing the blade myself.” I answered. “Civilized society has rules. We don’t have to like them, but we do need to follow them. I’m not demanding that they stop trying to apprehend villains. I just want proportional responses to crimes. No calling down an Angel unless the world is ending. No inciting a civil war unless the alternative is worse.”

I’d only read about some of the more disastrous conflicts between heroes and villains. I’d never seen the kinds of horrors the Dead King could bring to bear. Liesse was the closest I had come to witnessing something similar. That didn’t mean I was prepared to sit around and wait for an atrocity to occur before I decided to act.

“Enforcement’s nice,” Songbird flicked something at me. I ducked. “S’not like we don’t need it. What you haven’t told me is how you plan to get them to agree in the first place.”

“We need to convince more heroes to begin with. It’s why I was disappointed that the Saint of Swords had no interest in following with. If we can find the more moderate ones and persuade them to go along with my plans, then the more extreme ones will fall in line.”

“Y’really willing to take a blade to other heroes?”

I looked up while I considered my answer. Dense clouds could barely be seen between the leaves above. I leaned backwards against the wall of our shelter. A hallowed out hole in the side of a broad based tree.

“It would make me sad if I had to do it, but if I have to choose between sacrificing a city and sacrificing one hero only because the hero isn’t willing to follow rules, then yes.”

“Can you shed light on how you would hold heroes of cultural significance to other nations responsible. Should the Grey Pilgrim be held accountable for anything within the borders of the Principate, it would result in a declaration of war with Levant.”

“There is already a pretext to go to war if something like that happens. I want the Principate to spell out its rules in ink to everyone crossing the border. There would need to be specific exceptions involving Named rulers, but I will leave defining those up to wiser heads.”

“D’you think those rules will be taken seriously?”

“Not until the first hero is held accountable. That’s when people will realize that we mean what we say. If it works well enough, then other nations in Calernia will begin to copy the system.”

“And what of villains? You risk allowing them to escape justice by tying the hands of heroes.” I noticed that Roland was careful to avoid talking about his own skirting of the law.

“We’ve always fought with restrictions. That’s part of what makes us heroes. It’s the villains that believe everything is acceptable. I’m just asking us to define those restrictions for everyone.”

“S’pose something happens where you think the law you defined is wrong in a given circumstance.”

“Then either we revisit the law itself — and have the change voted on by others — or we follow through with it.”

“Y’know you weren’t this concerned about this before we split up.”

“That was before there were billions of new Roles people could step into. I don’t know how many people with Names there are, but there aren’t many. There were probably more heroes and villains in my city of birth than across this whole continent. The chances of Named conflict occurring was relatively low before. That won’t be true for much longer.”

All of them were aware that my world of birth and this one were not comparable in nature, but the point still stood. Even if I assumed that only a fraction of a fraction of a percent of people had the willpower to earn a Name, there were now far more Roles for them to potentially step into. Some would have likely gone without a Name before.

“I find your assessment to be both plausible and concerning when viewed in light of that.” Roland ran one of his hands through his hair as he spoke.

“S’pose it could work. M’not sure how fast you could do it, but it's one of your better ideas. I can help find the people you need to gab with. Finances, logistics, everything else.”

“That works. I’ve already got some idea about whom I need to speak to. I learned from Cordelia. That doesn’t mean you can’t do better. Talk to me before you do anything, though.”

“Y’know I will. I promised to.”

We’ll see if that promise holds.

“What about me ma what can I do to help?” Yvette asked, looking up from the harmonica.

“You can take a break. Use this as an opportunity to advance your craft.”

Should I suggest she looks for friends as well? No. It would offend her and do nothing to change her mind. Concern for her bubbled in my chest. She needed to spend time around someone other than us.

“S’pose you could help me out, Roland? Y’could find me some help we’ll need. Heroes both new and old. We’ll prob’ly need to find every hero in the Principate for something like this.”

“I am amenable to this agreement”

Conversation shifted. Roland and Yvette started to bicker once again.

“It’s nice.”

“M’not following.”

“Travelling in a group like this,” I explained.

“It is,” Songbird agreed.

I took a few moments to check on our horses, then returned once dinner was ready. Night duties were assigned. I’d take the last watch. Everyone except Songbird turned in for the evening.

A muttered prayer and a translucent dome of Light manifested around us. It glowed, but the glow was faint, giving off less light than the fire. I wasn’t sure if there were any ghosts nearby, but there was no reason to take risks.

It was a matter of moments before my mind drifted into a land of dreams.

I was woken up when it was my turn to take watch. Pushing myself out from under my bedding, I examined the countryside. Everything outside our bubble was coated in a light dusting of white.

At least we weren’t attacked by ghosts.

There had been more than a few people that had muttered about ghosts on our way down here, but we had yet to see any of them. That didn’t mean there weren’t any — where there was smoke there was fire — but we had been left alone.

It wasn’t long until dawn arrived. After an early morning meal, we were all back on the road.

The closer we drew to Constance’s Scar, the more unnerving the world became. It was hard to put a finger on what it was that bothered me. The wind trailed in ways that sounded like lost voices. I’d see what I thought were figures out of the corners of my eyes, only for it to be the movement of grass.

We stopped while I took a moment to ask my family for advice. This wasn’t the kind of place I wanted to enter blind. My queries had been met with sadness at the tragedy and whispered murmurs that there were no ghosts to be found.

We picked up our pace once more.

“Y’know, that looks like a city in the distance,” Songbird pointed from her mount beside me.

I followed the trail of her finger. For a moment I could see what she said. A spectral city. It vanished when I faced it head on.

“Oh oh oh I think I figured it out I know what’s wrong here it also makes perfect sense the veil is thin at Constance’s Scar and parts of Arcadia are leaking through that’s why the world is so weird I wonder if that means we can meet some Fae maybe they have things that would help me?”

“No bargaining with the Fae, Yvie.” Yvette pouted.

“I hold her conclusion to be correct.” Roland added. He could always be counted on to be the voice of reason.

“But there’s so much I could learn from them why-”

“No. The Fae would bargain for your soul.”

We pressed on, more alert than before. Soon we drew near the site of the tragedy. A blackened crater carved into the earth. Glass glimmered on the surface of it, from one side to the other. Snow fell, but did not stick to the surface.

It vanished before it touched the ground.

I wasn’t willing to take even a single step inside the disaster zone before sorcerers had examined the site. I suspected — but did not know — that doing so would shift anyone who did so from Creation to Arcadia. That wasn’t a risk I was currently willing to take. I didn’t think it would have negative consequences, but it was better to be cautious than stuck in a Fae court.

Everyone was subdued.

“Feels strange being back here. I don’t have any memories of the place, but I feel like I should.”

“Prob’ly feels like meeting someone you forgot?”

“Not quite, but almost.”

“S’pose this place is going to be a problem?” Songbird asked from the back of her horse. Flakes of snow dusted her hair, making her look like some kind of spotted fox.

“I don’t think so,” I disagreed. “It’s in the middle of nowhere. Cordelia wanted to organize sorcerers inside the Principate. This gives them a good place to build around. You saw how Yvie was pouting because she couldn’t investigate further. So long as the Scar is handled responsibly, there are plenty of ways it could be useful. It would be fitting for the place of a tragedy to be repurposed into something that benefitted others.”

Pandora whinnied nervously from beneath me. She was far more mischievous than Sisyphus had been. I had to be careful when handling her. She liked to bite.

“M’not so sure of that.”

“Time flows at a different rate in Arcadia. I don’t know if there is a way into Arcadia from here, but even the possibility of using this as a place to travel from could be useful.”

“Y’sure fixing this isn’t an option?”

“It’s possible, but time-consuming. It would take a significant quantity of Light to do it. I’m not willing to dedicate my time to that until we’ve established that it is a problem and not an opportunity. It’s not close enough to any population centres to be a concern if it was properly managed. The issue is that nobody is doing so. Warn people not to travel nearby and set up protections, then the place is safe. I see this more as a resource which is out of the way and needs someone to look after it.”

“I find myself in accord with Songbird,” Roland added.

“I’m not ruling out mending this, but… let’s see what other people say first.” I sighed.

I felt like Constance’s Scar was closer to a zoo for dangerous animals than a legitimate concern. If you stepped into the cage, then you shouldn’t be surprised if the animals took a bite at you. I would have been more concerned if the veil had been weakened closer to a town or city. It hadn’t. Constance’s Scar was remote. The worst that would happen was a frozen crater even if something like the Prince of Nightfall wandered out here, provided the place was properly contained.

“Y’really sure there are no ghosts?”

“The cherubs give no warning about the risk of undead.”

Their assurance was all that I needed. I wasn’t sure why the Fae were pretending to be ghosts. I was willing to bet that it was some kind of performance, but not one that I could untangle without more details. Regardless, this was a situation for sorcerers and not priests.

“I agree with Taylor I haven’t ever had the opportunity to examine Winter before but this place has the feel of it.”

“I hold Yvette’s supposition to be the correct one, although still maintain that this location should be cleansed.” Roland was examining the crater with a pair of blue spectacles while he talked. His irises shifted from olive to sapphire, and his fingers twitched while he talked.

“Y’know you sorcerers and priests are mad. Any sane person takes one look at this and sees a catastrophe in the making, not something to mess around with.” Songbird muttered under her breath.

“Thought you liked trouble.”

“There’s mischief and then there are holes in the ground radiating fuck off.” She shuddered while she spoke.

“Didn’t count you as being superstitious.”

Songbird made an obscene gesture my way, then remembered where she was. She stiffened, then looked from one side to the other.

“Nothing took offence,” she sounded relieved as she whispered to herself.

We spared a few moments of silence to drink in the tragedy before departing. No ghosts harried us on our way out as we continued our journey to Salia. That didn’t mean there weren’t any, but I was leaning more towards the Fae making trouble for people than anything else.