Nido walked through the dark forest. After putting both the unconscious Deatt and mentally exhausted Evelynn to bed, he could not help but look into the woods. Following the bloody trail that Deatt left while dragging the body behind him, Nido moved around the trees.

  He did not have to go far before he reached the scene of the carnage.

  Four bodies lay on the ground, their faces still frozen in the hunger they felt at their death. If anything, watching the dead turned was even more horrifying than the live ones. The frozen expressions showed just how strained the face muscles were. The jaws almost dislocated in their furious hurry to open them and bite down on a human. Their eyes now glassy and empty.

  It was hard to guess how many wounds they had suffered in Deatt's wrath, but it made Nido shudder.

  Their bodies were cut all over, bathing them and their roughened clothes in liters of blood. Instead of the systematic cuts that Deatt normally did, these were wild, ineffective. As if he aimed to bleed the turned as much as he could, before he would finish them off.

  The fight still must have taken only a moment. The turned had crude blades or clubs by their hip, but they still held their bows. They did not even manage to switch their weapon.

  Now, Nido was not as sure that he would win against Deatt in his crazed state. He did not see it himself, but based on how this whole thing looked, his friend must have performed a cull such that Nido never saw before.

  Hauling the bodies to a pile, careful not to get even pricked by any blades, Nido made sure to burn the accursed turned. If not to make sure that they would not come alive again, then to hide the remnants of Deatt's rampage.

  Sitting before the flames, Nido pondered about the state of his friend. On one hand, it was very scary. Never knowing whether the silent curse might take hold, or when his actions might have been influenced by it. On the other...it allowed him to fight like a demon.

  Nido did not twitch or turn around when he heard the heavy approaching steps. He already knew that Morek had been behind him. He noticed his presence about twenty minutes after he sat flame to the pile.

  He did not feel any hostility as the fellow half-orc approached. And did not spare him any words as he sat next to him, watching the flames sizzle. Both of them smelt the intense nauseating sweetness of the burning flesh, but their noses were as resilient as their stomachs.

  "That was what, five?" Morek asked, the flames reflecting in his eyes.

  "Six actually." Nido replied, surprised at how proud of Deatt he felt.

  "A lot for a single fighter, don't you think?"

  "Are you saying you wouldn't be able to do it?"

  "Me? You? We could no problem. Got our fathers to thank for that don't we."

  "Mother, actually."

  Morek nodded with acknowledgement, then he turned to the pile again.

  "What is he...really?"

  "Deatt?"

  "Yes."

  Nido was not one to lose such an opportunity. He knew that Deatt mostly ignored his image, caring more about what he had instead of what others had thought of him. But Nido liked to be known. Feared, revered, admired, it didn't make much difference to him, as long as he had a reputation.

  "To tell the truth, Deatt always dodged that question." Nido lied, trying to buy time to come up with something. "I had asked him numerous times, you know? But he always switches the topic, dark expression on his face."

  Morek took a waterskin from his belt, it's exterior covered with semi-dried lines of blood, and took a swig. Then he handed the drink to Nido.

  He drank greedily, enjoying the bitter taste.

  "So I tried to find out my own way." He tried to act stricken, as if old forgotten memories made their way to the surface.

  "I paid for the services of the best clairvoyant money could buy. At least in Kitva." He furrowed his brow. "He told me...he told me he is a descendant of a demon lord. One of the seven."

  Morek's face relaxed in the shock. His next reaction seemed to be disbelief. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead left it open, revealing the iron-capped tusks. He glanced at the flaming pile of corpses. Then he took the waterskin and took a strong swig from it.

  Nido saw small beads of sweat running on the other half-orc's forehead. Was it the fire raging before them, or the thought that he was travelling with a cambion?

  Nido did not know and did not ask. Instead, he hid his creeping smile with his hand. Hoping he looked as if in deep thought.

  Deatt woke up in comfortable warmth. Laying on something soft and feeling a comforting weight on his body, he almost did not realize that his head hurt as if an ox had kicked it. Almost.

  Along with the insistent throbbing in his head, his body felt even worse than after the lashing. Funny, that punishment was one of his last experiences of a normal world. If living in solitary could be called that.

  Groaning from the wave of migraine that attacked him out of nowhere, Deatt opened his eyes.

  He saw the ceiling of a tent, with a small sliver of light coming in through the flappy entrance. The inside was still somewhat dark, but the intensity of the ray of light made Deatt realize it had to have been well into the day.

  Moving his gaze lazily around the tent, Deatt tried to recall what had happened the day prior. He remembered going through the village, looking at the numerous trophies and furs around the streets. Then came the ambush. Where Mark had died...Mark!

  The image of the turned wounding Evelynn flashed through his mind and he could feel his heart start beating loudly.

  Then he remembered his anger. The wrath that took hold of him. The memory almost made the feeling return. The borders of his vision where turning red, heat rising in his head.

  Then the weight laying on top of him shuffled and took him out of the trance.

  He looked at his chest, only to find golden hair flowing over his body. It had been dirtied, with patches of dried blood sticking locks of hair together.

  Evelynn was sleeping calmly, her upper body gently going up and down with his breath.

  The initial embarrassment Deatt felt, quickly subsided, as he had realized that they were both still clothed. He glanced at her shoulder, seeing a patch of red and white bandage wrapped around it.

  Deatt exhaled in relief, letting his head fall on the soft furs.

  Truth be told, it had been a long time since he felt this comfortable, battered he might have been.

  He would have woke up, walked out of the tent and started his day, but since Evelynn held him tightly and was laying directly on him, he would have to wake her up as well.

  And since she slept so soundly, he decided to wait for her to wake up first.

  He definitely did not want to rest further, or indulge in the pleasant morning. Yeah, it was for Evelynn.

  Even though he felt comfortable like never before, even though he was still tired and his body was strained, he still could not fall asleep again.

  Instead, he decided to think over what had happened thus far. He was bitten, the wound seemed to itch right before the ambush, almost as if it warned him. But it did not do the same in the evening, the itching only surfacing a little while before the turned Mark emerged from the woods. It definitely followed some kind of rule. But Deatt had trouble deciding what it might be.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  The turned here were also scarily advanced, a lot more than what Deatt had been used to. The turned in the prison were capable of holding a weapon, namely their baton, but they were not exactly precise with it. These ones used bows, and they did so with obvious experience. They also leashed the wilder beasts on a leash, using them as a line of defense. And the way they were smart enough to lay down an ambush. They acted exactly like...like hunters.

  The village Deatt and the others were travelling through had plethora of furs and trophies of animals. The villagers here used to be hunters. Did it mean that the turned carried their abilities through their transformation? What if a mage had been bitten? Could a turned use magic?

  Those were all scary thoughts, but the last seemed especially horrifying. Deatt imagined the huge fireball flying his way. The roaring ball striking him and igniting all of his body in an explosion. What could he do against that?

  Nothing.

  Looking around the room, trying to find something to take his mind off of the uncomfortable thoughts, Deatt noticed the circlet that Evelynn wore. It laid on the ground, nestled between books.

  Since he had enough time to inspect it, he had noticed five small orange gems, maybe crystals, embedded in the silver. At least there used to be five, one of the gems lost its color, now clear and translucent, it seemed more akin to glass than the other stones.

  As he moved his head to look further to his left, he noticed a small chain moving around his neck. It led all the way to Evelynn and back, the green locket laying on his chest. A smooth chilly feeling emitted from the locket, soothing his body.

  He never thought that using it like this would have worked, for some reason, he had expected a magical item could be used only by a single person at a time.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Evelynn shuffling on his chest. She yawned and stretched her arms. She lazily opened her eyes at Deatt. First they were filled with the delirium of a good night's sleep, then they slowly recognized Deatt. Her cheeks flushed red almost instantly as she tried to push herself from Deatt. The silver chain stretched out, then caught Evelynn in her escape, bringing her back down. The top of her head practically bashed against his chest, making him involuntarily exhale.

  "Sorry!" She mumbled. "I'm so sorry!"

  Deatt, rather brutally taken out of his relaxation, only managed to nod.

  Evelynn gently pulled the green locket over her head, placing it on Deatt's chest. As she let go of the locket, her eyes started moving around his body. His clothes were torn and soiled with grime. Even though it was not his fault, he felt a little embarrassed to be so dirty before Evelynn. Especially now when she separated from him, Deatt saw how covered in grime she was. Probably staining herself when she brushed against him in her sleep.

  "Good morning." he said with a smile. He felt a sly kind of satisfaction at the sight of Evelynn being so flustered. It reminded him how he had felt when he walked into her room back in the manor.

  "Yes. Good." Evelynn replied, her cheeks completely red by that point. She noticed a lock of her hair glued together by the dried blood and focused on it with a scowl. She reached for a mirror she had next to the books and widened her eyes at her reflection.

  "I'm a mess!" she half-shouted.

  Letting Evelynn clean herself up and sparing her and himself any more awkwardness, Deatt stood up, his whole body aching and his head pulsating, and went out the tent.

  The blinding light of the day attacked Deatt's eyes at the same time as the appetizing smell of grilled meat. As his eyes adjusted, he finally saw the source of the beautiful smell. A flayed elk had been pierced with a long stick, merrily turning above a campfire. The meat was dripping with the sizzling fat. Suddenly, Deatt realized that he had been quite hungry.

  "Finally awake, huh?" Nido asked. "How you feeling?"

  "Like a whole stable of horses used me as a road." Deatt tried to stretch, but his body immediately protested.

  "Good. Oxen would be worse."

  As the group of men noticed him, Deatt had to ask himself a question.

  "What happened?"

  The looks they gave him varied, some seemed more suspicious, others avoided his gaze as much as they could, the rest nodded their head in slight approval. But they all shared something he did not see in them before. Respect...or maybe fear? One of the two. Needless to say, something had changed. They did not spare him a glance before. Only Dancer did, but even those were pointed more on Nido then him.

  Deatt decided not to pry into it for now. His stomach was growling and the beautiful meat called to him.

  "Deatt, come eat your fill. You must be hungry." Morek said. He must have been near the elk, but Deatt could not move his eyes from the magical venison.

  As if on cue, the men made space on the log they were sitting on, inviting him to sit.

  Deciding that he was too hungry to care about it, he happily accepted and sat down.

  Morek suddenly blocked out the dazzling sight of the elk. Deatt's first instinct was to complain, but then he noticed the very generous slice of meat that Morek held out for him.

  He accepted with a nod and a smile, biting into the meat ferociously. The sweet tones and gaminess of the meat were like an orchestra, playing delicious notes. Before he had even noticed it, the slice was gone.

  "You can certainly eat like a demon." Morek said, his face stoic. Then he handed another piece of meat to Deatt.

  Deatt might grow to like Morek if he would continue feeding him like this. He was not a big eater, most of the time. Most of the rations always went to Nido, the muscle. But today? Today he felt like he could eat the elk whole.

  Digging his teeth into the juicy meat, Deatt did not even notice the comparison. All his mind was preoccupied with the food.

  After indulging himself in a few more slices, his hunger subsided, letting him return to the reality.

  The atmosphere around him was even more grim than the day prior. The deaths of two of their comrades weighed heavily on the others minds. But Deatt had no intention to grieve with them.

  Instead, he remembered what he had wanted to do right before he fell unconscious.

  He made his way to the mage, trying not to attract attention of the other men on the way.

  When he was close enough, Deatt quickly turned with his body and punched the mage square in the face.

  He could feel the impact breaking the man's nose as he sent him to the ground. Before anyone else could understand why the sudden fight erupted, Deatt was already on the man again. Delivering strike after strike to his surprised and defenseless face.

  He did not aim to maim the man, but he did not spare him with the force of the blows either. Deatt managed to hit him a couple of times before anyone tried to stop him. But he was not as strong as Nido to throw off the men that grabbed him by the arms and pulled him off their mage.

  "What the fuck?" shouted the mage, once the others helped him up. Deatt was a bit disappointed by the extent he had hurt Raf. He had hoped to punch at least a few teeth out, now he only chipped one of them a bit. "What's your fucking problem?"

  The men that held Deatt suddenly let go, then a big shadow appeared beneath Deatt's feet.

  "Don't even try to act coy. You know what you did. This was just a warning. If you do it again. I will make sure you won't be able to chant yourself a new set of teeth!" Deatt yelled back, then he turned around. As he had guessed, Morek was standing behind him. "And you make sure your men know what they are doing! If any of them fuck up again. I will hold you responsible too."

  "I will make sure of that, mister Deatt. I will make sure that they will do precisely what they were told."