Unbound

Nell, Prelate of the Sworn and head of his chapterhouse, stood within the fastness of their hideaway in Elderthrone and contemplated their contract. Birds had begun to sing as a thaw settled across the city and it grated against the Prelate’s Perception. Their incessant chirping was almost as bad as the chatter of commoners as they swarmed the markets. Normally Nell would not care at all for the comings or goings of Untempered fools, but this was different.

Their calm was an indictment of his chapterhouse.

"Tell me again," Nell said, focusing his Perception on those around him. There were two Sworn sharing the sparse bedchamber of their safehouse, while fifteen others were making the measured sounds of industrious preparation in the adjoining rooms. “Who is left of the leadership?”

Lem, his aide, answered swiftly as if anticipating the question. "Atar V’as still clings to live in Greenleaf Ward, as you know. Alister Knacht only just returned from his mission abroad, though we still have not determined where he went or how exactly he traveled there. Zara, their primary ally among the Chanters, still runs her blasphemous school. Karys remains as well, though he at least seems inhibited by whatever Teine managed before his death. And of course, we still have the Farwalker."

"I'm not concerned with the Farwalker. The Henaari are backwater tribesmen and don’t amount to a true threat. I'm far more worried about Zara and Karys."

Nell had dealt with Sorcerers a time or two in his past and they were always tricky foes. The Chancellor of Elderthrone, however, was something new. Not a Golem as they once surmised, but an intelligent being placed within a suit of animated armor. It was a remarkable feat and it made all of them nervous. They could not account for what Karys could do on his own, let alone with the Authority of Elderthrone behind him. Teine had been sure he could handle the creature, but the mage had been sure he could handle many things, and that had ultimately proved a lie.

"Once our survey of the Greenleaf Ward is completed, we can—" A door slammed, cutting off the Prelate’s words. Aiden, one of their scouts, ran into the room, breathing heavily with a wild look in his eye.

"Why have you returned?" Vorin demanded, one of the last captains of their chapterhouse and the third. "You were to scout the Greenleaf Ward."

"Something was out there," Aiden explained. "It came after me in the street."

"I don't know. It was too fast.”

“Were you followed?"

"No, I shook him." Aiden tapped his bracer. "Idiots can't match up to our artifacts, let alone our stealth. But he was close."

"Do not rely upon those trinkets," Vorin said. "They are tools, and I would have us divest ourselves of them and rely purely on our own Skills."

"They are indeed tools, Vorin,” Nell interrupted. “And the Sworn do not waste our implements. They are to be squeezed of every drop of value, and only then may they be discarded. Stick to the teachings of the House, Vorin, and you will prosper. Ignore them." Nell produced a blade that sizzled with condensed poison Mana. "And you will find that true regret is a wine you have not yet tasted."

Vorin swallowed. "Yes, Prelate."

"Aiden, did you complete any of your sweep of the Greenleaf Ward?"

"No, Prelate. The figure—like I said, it was there, stalking me."

"How?" Vorin asked, frustrated. "The Legion knows of our presence, but not even their commander can track us."

"It wasn't the Legion. None of the Legion can move like that. I just, I couldn't even see them, but they were there."

"You had no confirmation, just a nebulous feeling." Aiden nodded, and Nell shook his head. "Return to the Greenleaf Ward. Scout it. Complete your mission. We need to finish off the mage when he's at his weakest. Then we can focus on the others."

The lesser Sworn hesitated, clearly still nervous. Lem cleared his throat.

"Prelate, the Legion has increased their presence in the Ward. We do know that, and it will not be easy. Perhaps this is what set off Aiden's instincts. With Lord Knacht returned, and Teine’s efforts failed, vigilance has increased tenfold. Even if mage Va’s falls, Knacht will take up the reins. Then there are the Chanters to worry about."

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Nell waved a hand. "We needn't worry about the Chanters. We have Chanters of our own. The Sorcerers will cannibalize themselves."

Lem smiled. "Of course, Prelate, of course."

Vorin scratched his jaw. “But what of—”

"Silence," Nell demanded. His Perception flared at him in warning and a chill wormed across his heart. "Our men, where have they gone?"

The four of them looked around, extending their own senses. The soft chatter from the other room had vanished, and everything felt…dim. The chirruping birds were gone.

The Prelate turned slowly. “We are not alone.”

“Sharp.”

Lem, Vorin, and Aiden all jolted as the voice spoke, but even the Prelate felt his bowels clench as a figure stalked out of the dark between doorways. A monstrous face surfaced from the black, eyes burning like a crimson spark in a sea of blue.

“Still. I expected better.”

Green light flickered in Nell’s hands as he summoned his poisoned blades, and similarly potent Skills flowed from the others. Only Aiden stood trembling like a leaf in a storm. “Y-you…the shadow…”

Fangs parted, and a blue-white light emerged from behind them, illuminating a dark tongue. “Sworn. Who are your targets?"

Nell gestured, and his people attacked.

Bolts of acid and binding lines of fire flashed at the Fiend, but they did nothing more than burn holes in his clothing. The monster stepped forward, snapping the bindings as if they were cobwebs, only to be assaulted by snapping jaws of shadow. They found no purchase on him, however, and were obliterated with a single gesture.

Nell gasped, dodging to the side as the Mana of their attacks was somehow seized from the air and hurled back at them. The others barely evaded the counterattacks, their personal wards flaring beneath the onslaught of their own stolen magic.

“You came into my city,” the Fiend said before snapping his arm back. A figure faded into view as his artifact failed. A clawed hand clamped around their skull. “You attacked my people…”

He didn’t bother to block the blade that sought his heart—and it shattered against his black-scaled chest.

“You bombed my city…for money.” He snarled and squeezed. The Sworn cried out. “Who are your targets?”

Nell stared, poisoned blades raised as he regained his feet. “The contract is sovereign. I cannot—”

“Fine,” the monster snapped. "I'll look for myself."

With a horrendous scream, the Sworn in the Fiend’s clutches was ripped into a howling smoke—one that funneled directly into his open maw.

Nell’s heart hammered so hard it felt to knot in his chest as he watched his underling be consumed. He feared the Fiend before them, but not before this moment had he truly understood the threat he represented. Their contract was in dire peril.

The Fiend paused as the echo of the Sworn’s screams faded. Something pulsed within him. His burning eyes looked inward, gazing upon something none of them could see. It was their moment.

"Run! Find your marks!" Nell ordered.

“Aye, Prelate!”

Lem, Vorin, and even Aiden all blurred as their artifacts and Skills activated, and they vanished even from the Prelate’s preternatural Perception.

"You will face me, Fiend," Nell said, drawing the monster's attention. His poison blades grew until they formed wicked crescent moons. They sizzled in the silence.

Nevarre straightened, the fog vanishing from his eyes. Something flickered above his head like a halo of gold. "Atar, Alister, Karys, and Zara. You're trying to cripple my city. Who hired you?"

The Prelate grimaced. "Oaths bind me as much as they do you, Autarch. I deny your questions. The dead are not worthy of the answers."

“I will take them from you regardless.”

"I assumed as much.” Nell spun his blades, placing them against his own throat. "The House demands my death before my surrender."

Scales crawled across the Fiend's face, and a new set of jaws emerged over his own, until his visage was one of true monstrosity. An abomination stood there, jutting fangs below an inhuman brow.

"That won't stop me."

The Fiend gestured, and three pillars of lightning erupted around him. Two were near windows, and another was perilously close to the Fiend himself.

"I'm done with you all," he said. With a contemptuous gesture, all three of his Sworn were rent asunder. Armor and flesh became blackened smoke…and were devoured in an instant.

Nell thrust his blades at his head, only to find them stopped by that same lightning.

"No," the Fiend said, somehow standing over the Prelate now. He took the blades from him with ease. "I need to see your Oath first."

Talons of black reached for him, and Nell braced for the pain he could not avoid.

He was not ready.

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