Kano

　　Kano had been emanating a faint green glow ever since the portal spewed him out, a glow he hadn`t noticed. Cabbage noticed, but he thought nothing of it. The half-human had been submerged in the Dream, and he came out drenched in its magic. Had he been in an ocean and washed up on the shore, Cabbage would have been equally unmoved to find him sopping wet.

　　But as Kano wept over Pak`s lifeless body, the spoli gathered around him. Cabbage went quiet as he watched them drift to the half-human`s silhouette. He didn`t know what they were. Throughout their journey in the Obsidian, he saw them floating around, and he figured them to be spores or something of that nature, exuding their traces of life without sentience, no different than any other fungus. But seeing them now, the way that they assembled and moved through the air with intent& He still didn`t quite understand it, but somehow, he knew to trust them.

　　The spoli absorbed the Dream`s light like sponges, swelling into a froth of tiny green bubbles, embracing the flesh that covered Kano`s grieving soul. Kano fluttered open his tear-mottled eyes. He saw them cling to his body, and he pulsed with fear, but the spoli pulsed back with a soothing teal light, as if to say don`t be afraid. They tread across his surface, gently bobbing like leaves in a river, and trickled down the arm that held Pak`s head aloft. They filed into Pak`s long, pointed ear, the one that was spared from the fire that burned his face. Kano laid him down, as if only to let him sleep, and held his bloodied hand close to his heart. He watched breathlessly, praying to the Spirit, or whoever might be listening&

　　Rorri

　　Shacia came out of the M鑣poulis gasping for breath, her eyes screaming with terror. Dread flooded Rorri`s chest.

　　"Rorri," she said, "you have to go - you have to go right now."

　　"W-wait-"

　　"No, Rorri, you have to go!" She stood up, wincing through a crack of lightning in her legs, and limped away from him.

　　"Shacia-"

　　"Listen to me," she said to a backdrop of scraping and rummaging, her silhouette digging through a drawer or a box. "If they find you-"

　　Her voice cut out as she gurgled with pain. Rorri crawled towards her timidly, his hand hovering uselessly in the air.

　　"They`ll kill me," he finished for her. "I know that-"

　　"It`s more than that!" she said, shakily resuming her search.

　　"But& I don`t understand-"

　　"It`s what they do with the bodies, Rorri! If they find out what you are&"

　　He froze. She whimpered, covering her face. A dark, heavy knot loosened in Rorri`s chest. He remembered how hard they were to find&

　　"What do they do with the bodies&?"

　　His voice barely filled his words. Shacia crumpled over, catching herself on the surface of whatever she was digging through.

　　"They call it& I can barely stand to say it," she said, fanning herself. "They call it feeding the rock`..."

　　The void swelled, devouring the light, even hers. In the darkness, Rorri saw the body being dragged through the Obsidian tunnels, going the wrong way&

　　"They dig these trenches, in the foothills, and they&" She wrinkled her face. "They fill them up with the dead Du閚 they steal, and& I`m so sorry, Rorri& It`s so wrong&"

　　"But& why do they&?"This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author`s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

　　Shacia clutched her head, sobbing uncontrollably. She sucked in a deep breath&

　　"Because that`s where the Obsidian tungsten comes from," she said. "The bodies rot, and - and over time, it grows, like crystals&"

　　Rorri sat, dazed. Shacia couldn`t stop crying.

　　"Oh, god," he said, covering his mouth. "Is that& what&?"

　　"It`s what they make the Guards` weapons out of," she said. "It`s what the weapon from the Vault is made of. I`m so sorry, Rorri. I`m so sorry. I`m so sorry&"

　　Rorri heaved, but nothing came up. He hadn`t eaten in so long. But the nausea, the vertigo and the anger all hit him at once. He could barely breathe. He could barely think. The illusory forest returned, but the light left trails, as if he was drunk or high. Shacia tottered to him, clutching a chain with a teardrop-shaped pendant emanating a faint trace of magic.

　　"You have to go," she said, folding the necklace into his hand. "Make yourself look like a human with this - a pale human, with blond hair, and blue eyes - that`s what it says on the papers we made you&"

　　She brushed his other hand with the papers. He took them numbly, his head swimming. He listened while she explained the route he could take out of the manor, and he watched as she illuminated a path for him in the same way she had done before, starting at his feet, on the fluffy rug beneath him. It all came to him so distantly, as if he had exited his body for the time. He was still there, barely. He was there enough to hear what she said, to comprehend it. But the part of him that floated away was mucking through mires of memories, trying to make sense of it all. That`s why he could see those weapons in the void. They still emanated traces of life, or magic, or consciousness, whatever it was - whatever it was, it belonged to the Du閚. The young guard`s sword outside the warehouse, the scar it left on his shoulder... That was why it hurt so badly. When they tortured him, even if they barely scraped him with their sick green weapons, it hurt so badly. He remembered the Catseye merchant, how she said her cousin worked in a mining company& They`ve been digging for Obsidian tungsten up north. Long haul, but it`s good money. How many people had he known who were fated to become some wealthy foreigner`s sword? And poor Shacia - she had to share a bed with a monster&

　　At that thought, Rorri broke.

　　"Come with me," he said, dropping the necklace and the papers to take her wrists. "Please-"

　　"I can`t, Rorri," she said. "I`m so sorry - I wish I could, but-"

　　She groaned through the pain in her legs. Rorri drew closer, clasping his hands over hers.

　　"When - when you can, when you`re feeling better - you can escape," he said, his voice quick, manic. "You can escape like I did - you can use the weapon!" Shacia shrank away as he summoned the knife to his hand. "Take it! Use it to get out of here-"

　　"It doesn`t work like that-"

　　"You have to try," he cried. "You`re s-smart - you can figure it out! If anyone could&"

　　"It`s bound to you, Rorri-"

　　"Well I don`t want it!"

　　He tossed the weapon to the floor. Shacia jumped as it thumped on the rug where they`d just been sitting together. Below them, somewhere else in the manor, a door opened and shut.

　　"You have to go," Shacia said. "You`re out of time, Rorri. You have to go&"

　　She picked up the necklace and the papers and held them out for him to take. He heaved into a heavy sob, crumpling to his knees.

　　"It`s not r-right," he said through the tears, taking her gifts with limp, trembling hands.

　　"I know," she whispered. Her shimmering periwinkle silhouette had long gone dark, the mournful gray of twilight. Nearby, a floorboard creaked, sending a pang of yellow across her. Rorri gave a pained, frustrated grunt, then stood up to follow the path she`d painted for him.

　　"I`m sorry&"

　　He watched her wither on her bedroom floor, the weapon`s veins thrumming beside her.

　　"Please& don`t stay here," he said. "Come f-find me&"

　　Then, before anyone could spot him, he turned and followed the path. It took him into her closet, to a secret door. She had carved it herself with magic. It was how she snuck out of the manor, as the Widow, as Rorri`s lover, as his friend, or just as a cat that refused to stay in the house. It took Rorri through a crawlspace, down a chute, and into an underground tunnel that came out somewhere near the Plateau`s edge, hidden beneath a willow tree. Rorri donned the necklace, which provoked a strange, tingling sensation that dispersed all across his body - his magic, passively redirected - and focused on the pale blond human he was to pretend to be. He followed the path all the way to the gate, weaving around the few people he saw with a sullen, drunk-like sway. He presented his papers to the guard when they asked for them, and he never uttered a word. The guard`s weapon glowed with the blood of his people. It took all he had to keep from screaming.

　　He still knew nothing of the Surface`s geography, and he couldn`t return to the Obsidian - they`d imprison him for being a deserter. With nowhere else to go, Rorri meandered east.

　　He never got to say goodbye properly to Adar, or to Reggie. Even his parting from Shacia felt wrong, unfinished. His only hope was for one of them to find him, but it was such a long shot, he could barely entertain the thought. He cried often. He starved himself for as long as he could before he had no choice but to eat. He contemplated ending it, but he never did. And he never once summoned that awful weapon again. He couldn`t stand its presence, but more than that, if Shacia did figure out how to bind it to herself, the thought of taking it from her at a crucial time prevented him from even considering it.