Blackgrave

The sun pierced through the gray clouds as they reached town and made their way to the prison.

“We still have plenty of light,” Lord Gremmelt said. The Bryarsmen in the sentry tower gave them a nod as they entered. A few townsfolk stopped by them and told them how gracious they were for killing the werewolves, and that they hoped they could take care of the spirit. Lord Gremmelt never cared for all the chatter, and wished the people would just let him do his job.

The prison was a small stone building with a wooden door. They wasted no time knocking and simply walked in. Inside was a large room separated by iron bars that broke the room into sections. There were three cells and the hall that ran past them. A young Bryarsmen sat head down at the desk up against the wall, his long blond hair overflowing from his leather helm. When everyone stepped in, he hopped up and nearly stood at attention.

"Good day," he rushed to say. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Easy, young man," Lord Gremmelt told him. "You can relax. We're just here to speak to a prisoner."

Lord Gremmelt looked into the cells and saw a man on the ground in one of the cells. He was covered with a blanket and hardly moved- save for his breathing. Akecheta walked over to the bars and examined him. He was badly beaten, and his ears were bloodied and bruised. Beside him was a tooth and a little pool of blood. His leg peaked out from the blanket and it was covered in cuts and gashes, likely from being dragged by his arms.

"Of course." The Bryarsmen wiped away the spit from his lips and grabbed the keys from his belt.

"Is this man Conero?" Akecheta asked and the Bryarsmen nodded.

"Why is he here? Lord Gremmelt asked.

"Stupid bastard’s been screaming all hours of the night. Running around like some kind of wild animal all through town." The Bryarsmen unlocked the door. "Captain Wellers had him detained soon after his daughter disappeared."

"And you beat him?" Lord Gremmelt pointed towards Conero with his thumb. He wasn’t even sure the man could speak anymore.

"He made things difficult," the Bryarsmen replied. "He attacked us when we detained him. He's lucky Captain Wellers didn't just run him through."

Lord Gremmelt stared into the guard’s eyes, saying” standards have fallen since my day.” He walked over and knelt beside Conero. The man was dirty and his hair was greasy and covered in dried blood. He peeked up from the ground at Gremmelt and turned his head away.

"Akecheta," Lord Gremmelt called him over. "Speak to him. I'll tend to his wounds."

"It's okay," Akecheta said in Wulfolic. "We won't harm you." The old man looked up at Akecheta and studied his face.

"Child of Venya?" The man looked confused. Venya was a spectral crow and a god among the Utarou. All clan folk worshiped the Utarou, with each clan dedicating itself to one god of the pantheon.

"Yes," Akecheta replied. "Look," he pointed towards Everdeen. She was perched in his hood and peaked out from behind his head. The old man looked deeply into Akecheta's eyes.

"But you are Witch Hunter." The old man shook his head. "One cannot be true to Venya and wield the flaming sword of Scrydell."

"I wield the flaming blade for all people," Akecheta replied. "Allow my companions to tend to your wounds, it will ease the pain. Please, Conero."

Akecheta helped the man to sit. "Tell me what's going on here. Why did the Bryarsmen do this to you?" Lord Gremmelt called over Naja and the two began patching up his legs.

"My Vasha," his voice was somber. "They did this to her!" he shouted in anger. "That is why she haunts these swamps now! My poor Vasha! So close to bringing life to this world, and now she is gone. They killed her! They drowned her in the swamp! Now she looks to do the same to them!”

He poked at Akecheta. "That is why they have called you here. They only locked me away because I know what they did."

A fire in Akecheta’s chest flew him into a rage. He rose angrily and pressed towards the Bryarsmen.

"Let this man out!" he shouted. The Bryarsmen backed against the wall, though he dared not reach for his blade.

"I can't! Captain's orders!" The Bryarsmen held his hands up and looked at the others for help.

"I am taking him from here immediately." Akecheta would not stand aside while one of his kin was so wrongly punished. He wanted to beat the Bryarsmen and free Conero from his chains. He stared daggers into the man's eyes until a firm hand grabbed him and pulled him away like he was still a child.

"Enough!" Lord Gremmelt tossed him into the door.

"Go cool off outside," he firmly told him. Akecheta stood dead still with his mouth agape and a fire in his gut he struggled to keep in. He realized he had gone too far and tried to leave before things got worse, but before he could, Conero pressed him again.

“Witch Hunter!" he yelled in Aredesan before switching back to Wulfolic. "Please, I beg you. Let my Vasha have her vengeance, give her who she seeks. It is only right. They took her from this world, it is only fair she takes them with her!"

Akecheta’s entire body tensed up and he ground his death. The anger could not be contained if he remained. He slammed the prison door on his way out, and disappeared outside.

"Kangee," Lord Gremmelt called him over. "Is there anything else to be gained here?" Kangee may have been distant to clanfolk, but he was born of them and knew Wulfolic. He stepped away from the wall that he leaned against.

"No," he replied before leaving the prison. The Bryarsmen relaxed and breathed a heavy sigh.

"Savages didn’t learn enough from the war," said the Bryarsman somewhat under his breath. Lord Gremmelt and Naja finished wrapping Coneros leg and left him with a piece of bread and a flask full of water. Conero laid back down and threw the blanket over himself as they finished up. Ra'Selas stepped towards the Bryarsmen until they were nearly nose to nose.

“And how would you feel if a Zenidition man was in that cell and his guard was Crow Clan.” He put his hand firmly on the Bryarsmen shoulder and spoke in elven. “Would you turn a blind eye to another child of Zenida?”

The Bryarsmen dropped his gaze to the floor like a heavily scolded child. He shook his head ashamedly.

“The war is long over. Scrydell won. Leave your Prejudice in the past.” Ra'Selas stared deeply into the man before removing his grasp and brushing the man’s shoulder off.

“Sorry for the trouble,” Lord Gremmelt told him before they stepped outside. Akecheta was pacing angrily while Kangee stood still with his back up against the prison wall.

“Well, let’s hear it then.” Lord Gremmelt looked to Akecheta, “What did Conero tell you?”

“They only threw him in there to keep him quiet,” Akecheta replied. “Ronso was right. They did this to her. She was going to have his child, so he killed her!” Lord Gremmelt grabbed Akecheta and held up his finger to shush him.

“Easy,” he quickly glanced around him to show Akecheta they were not in a private place. “Lotta ears out right now.”

Akecheta took a deep breath and said, “sorry, Lord Gremmelt.” He shook his head and loosened up. “I am not leaving this town until that man is freed.”

“In due time,” Lord Gremmelt replied. “We don’t have any hard evidence against Altera, so it will be difficult to hold him accountable. But we will see to it that Conero is freed before we leave town. Anything else?”

Kangee stepped into the semi circle with his glaive slung over his shoulder. “He wants us to let Vasha take the ones that did this to her. If she gets her vengeance she will leave.”

“Do you think the Crow Clan are involved with the spirit in any way?” Lord Gremmelt asked the two of them.

“I don’t think so,” Akecheta said.

Lord Gremmelt looked at Kangee. “And you, what do you think?”

“The Crow Clan are a spiritual people. If they had a shaman in their midst, there wouldn’t be any Bryarsmen left.”

“For now we will assume they are not involved.” Lord Gremmelt looked around at the surrounding swamps. “You said the boy found Vasha next to a fallen tree, correct?”

“That is what the boy said, yes,” Akecheta replied.

“They have to be close by.” Lord Gremmelt folded his arms and thought for a moment before looking over at Kangee and Akecheta. “Send out your crows and see if you can find it. There might be a few fallen trees out in the swamps, but there can’t be that many.”

Everdeen and Achi took off into the swamps. The canopy was dense, so they flew branch to branch. Achi took the south while Everdeen searched the north. Within a few minutes, the fallen tree was found.

“Everdeen is there now,” Akecheta said.

“Already?” Lord Gremmelt was surprised it was found so quickly. “It must be close.”

“Yes,” he placed his back against the wall and slid down to the ground. “I’ll explain it as I see it.”

Let me see, Everdeen. Show me what you see. Akecheta’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body fell limp.

He saw through Everdeen’s eyes. She was on a fallen tree, perched right on the edge. He could see the town was only a stone’s throw away. The tree was hollowed out and full of water on one side. Inside of the hollow was a young Blackfeather woman’s corpse. She had been cleaned and was dressed in white robes. Her skin was pale and her black hair flowed freely in the water. Carved into her forehead was the symbol of Misery. Her hands were bound together and within her palms she cradled a small baby still connected to her though its umbilical cord. It was a boy and had the symbol of Chaos carved into his chest. His eyes were wide open and as black as the night, though they held no signs of life within.

Akecheta pulled himself from Everdeen’s sight and called her back to him.

“I’ve never seen anything like that,” he shook himself and stood back up. “A woman and child are in the hollow of the tree. Each of them bears a carving of a Remnant. Misery for the woman, Chaos for the child.”

“Misery and Chaos.” Lord Gremmelt scratched at his chin.

“Could we just burn it from here?” Naja asked. “Where is it?”

“It isn’t far. We should be able to see it from the dock where all the canoes are kept,” Akecheta replied.

“The water will make burning it difficult. We’ll have to take it to dry land first,” Lord Gremmelt looked over towards Altera’s workshop. “Let’s talk to Altera.”