“I can feel the exit to the tunnel ahead,” Hiral said, the two parties at his side. They’d decided to walk most of the way—which was still pretty fast, considering their S-Rank bodies—to give them more time to recover. Now, with each step he took, his sensory domain ballooned out into the city of Trevallen. After another thirty feet of walking, Hiral stopped cold, mind checking—then double-checking—what he’d felt.

  “Hiral?” Seena said.

  “There are people in Trevallen,” he said. “Not a lot of them, but I can feel them.”

  “Possessed?” Laseen said.

  “I… think so?” Hiral said. “They are all moving so slowly. And I barely sense any power at all from them. Like walking corpses. Not the undead kind.”

  “For their sake, I hope they’re friendly,” Yanily said, small sparks of lightning running up and down Tempest Roar at his words.

  “Would be nice not to have to kill everything we find on this world,” Wule said.

  “What are you talking about?” Nivian said to his brother. “You haven’t killed anything.”

  The healer waved generally in the direction of Seena’s group. “I’m sure they’ll make up for my slacking.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Hey,” Seena said. “We don’t kill everything.”

  “We sure tried,” Seeyela said. “Just didn’t go as well as we’d wanted.”

  “I think they know we’re here,” Hiral said. “Somehow. They’re… trying to hide?”

  “Ambush?” Nivian said, spinal-column hammer forming in his right hand at the same time Wallop moved up in front of the group, now back at his full size.

  “Could be, but I still don’t sense any real amount of power from them,” Hiral said. “And, unless the speed they’re moving is some kind of trick, they couldn’t sneak up on any of us. Left, have Perfect Sense ready. If they don’t speak the same language we do, we don’t want to get into a fight just because of that.”

  “Didn’t help us so much back in the Cradle at the other faction’s fortress,” Right pointed out.

  “Call me an optimist,” Hiral said dryly. “Let’s go. Tanks in front until we know what this is going to be.”

  “Tell me what to shoot,” Igwanda said, bow already drawn.

  “Nothing,” Wule said. “Don’t shoot anything yet.”

  “They can’t ambush us if they’re dead,” Igwanda said.

  “They can’t talk either,” Wule said.

  “Igwanda,” Nivian said simply.

  That one word from the Death Knight was apparently enough, the ranger sighing, but lowering her bow. She did keep the arrow nocked.

  Banter done—thankfully—the group moved ahead, while Hiral kept pushing on the boundaries of his sensory domain. The city itself wasn’t very different than the last time they’d been to Trevallen, with much of the architecture the same. There were small, individual differences with the buildings, and that park over there, that was entirely new. For the most part, it was the same city, and it wouldn’t be surprising if the Fallen even had a lab in the same location as they’d found on Genesis.

  Worth checking out…

  Even as Hiral had the thought, something very different than on Genesis presented itself to his sensory domain.

  “There are corpses in the homes,” he said. “Actual corpses. Not even the walking kind.”

  “How many?” Seena said.

  “Some kind of plague?” Laseen said, solar energy pulsing around her and Wule both at the question.

  “Lots,” Hiral said. “Almost like every home’s residents were interned in their own house without being buried. They’re on beds and chairs. They either died in their sleep, or somebody else placed them there. Arranged them. It’s too perfect.”

  As he spoke, he pushed his domain through every open window and under the crack of every door to explore. Almost every house he inspected had the same thing. Even within the few homes people hid inside, there were corpses there with them.

  This was a city of the dead.

  “I… don’t think those are corpses,” Wule said, the usual snark of his voice replaced by something more serious and… confused? “I feel the barest spark of life from each of them.”

  “That can’t be right,” Hiral said. “Some of them are clearly broken. I’m feeling stab wounds, broken bones and necks, and dozens of other things. I’m no expert, but the wounds feel recent. Like they didn’t have time to heal.”

  “And yet life clings to them.”

  “And not a plague,” Laseen said. “Unless it was a plague of stabs and bad luck.”

  “Sounds like my kind of plague,” Seeyela mumbled.

  “So,” Yanily said. “Something very weird is going on here. Who’s surprised?”

  Nobody raised their hands.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “And they’re definitely not undead?” Seena pressed.

  “Definitely not,” Wule said. “This lantern is the only one reacting, even if it’s reacting strangely. Kind of like it’s muted.” He pointed to the orange lantern floating behind his right shoulder. “From the others? Nothing. Actually…” he trailed off like he was focusing on something. “Huh, my death lantern is… it’s muted too. Like something is blocking both of them.”

  “Is that normal?” Nivian said.

  “Something blocking life and death? Not normal at all.”

  “All the more reason we need to talk to somebody,” Hiral said, urging the others to continue. Even though he was the one who’d really slowed them down in the first place.

  It took the group another twenty seconds to exit the tunnel into Trevallen, and another obvious difference between the versions of the city became clear. Light within this city was sparse and far between. More than ninety-percent of the buildings were dark, with only the occasional splotch of light within a window or doorway breaking up the otherwise utter sea of darkness ahead of them.

  During the walk down, Seena had summoned little balls of fire for light, while Hiral had done the same with Energy. Between the pair of them, they probably had more lights than the entire city.

  “Did we get here while everybody is sleeping?” Dole said.

  “Only if they’re just going to bed now,” Left said, pointing at where another light had just snuffed out.

  “Those homes, that’s where people are hiding,” Hiral said.

  “Only those ones?” Seena said.

  “Only those ones,” Hiral confirmed. “The rest are filled with bodies.” Now, at the entrance of the city, Hiral’s sensory domain blanketed the entire cavern. Every building. Every home and shop. And, one other thing the city on Genesis had been known for.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Be right back,” Hiral said. “Want to check something.”

  Before the others could question, his pseudo-aspect ignited, and he leapt into the air. Hundreds of feet in a second, he paused there—like a floating star—and looked to confirm with his eyes what his domain had felt. There, at the far end of the cavern, hidden by the buildings from where the group stood, the Fountain glowed with infernal flames.

  Nearby, more of the kind-of-alive bodies had been laid out in neat rows across the raised platform, their states ranging in various states of dismemberment. The whole bodies were few and far between, where the majority looked like somebody had gathered up the pieces of the individuals, and laid them out like they were supposed to be, if they were still connected. All of them were dressed in what looked like formal clothes, and some even had dried flowers nearby. Most striking of all was the one person not hiding from Hiral.

  Bent with age, a single caretaker slowly shuffled down one of the rows between bodies, a lantern held in one hand shedding a soft sphere of illumination across those they passed. Another step, the hooded head of the caretaker looking in Hiral’s direction, and it paused. It wasn’t like it could miss him glowing above the entrance to the city. One second, two, three, it stared at him, then lowered its head and continued its rounds.

  Unlike the others in the city, it wasn’t running to hide from them.

  Then that’s who we’re going to talk to.

  Dropping down to the ground, Hiral didn’t douse his pseudo-aspect, the glow of his Seeker’s Regalia sending shadows dancing across the quiet street.

  “What did you see?” Seena said.

  “The Fountain is still there,” Hiral said. “It’s connection open to… wherever it goes. There’s also somebody up there who isn’t hiding.”

  “Sounds like that’s where we’re going,” Seena said.

  “I’d like to take a closer look at one of the bodies,” Wule said. “I can feel faint sparks all around me, but to confirm, there are corpses all around here, right?” He pointed at the nearby buildings.

  “Yes,” Hiral said. “But there are more up by the Fountain. Lots of them.”

  “Is us going up there going to spook them and send them into hiding?” Romin said. “Not the bodies,” he clarified. “The person you saw.”

  “They saw me too,” Hiral said. “Didn’t seem to care. I’ll carry everybody, so they don’t feel like we’re sneaking up on them.”

  “Might be a little more intimidating having a dozen of us flying in their direction,” Nivian said. “My party will take a look inside some of these homes, then make our way toward the Fountain. I remember the way.”

  Hiral thought about it for a second, then nodded. Part of him didn’t want to split up, but Nivian and his group were more than strong enough to deal with any problems that might come up. Short of the Raze showing up in the city, that was.

  “I don’t sense anybody hiding around here,” Hiral said. “Just the tomb-like houses.”

  “Thanks,” Nivian said, then specifically looked at Igwanda and Bash. “No smashing and no shooting anything,” he said sternly. “These are both tombs and people’s homes. We will respect that.”

  “No smash. Bash good,” the little Troblin said, even leaning forward for Nivian to scratch him behind the ears.

  “I shall refrain from wasting arrows out of respect for the not-quite-dead,” Igwanda said with a haughtiness that would make Seeyela’s mount—Bliss—proud. And, despite her crossed arms, her eyes kept flicking in Nivian’s direction, as if waiting for…

  He scratched the side of her head too, while she did her best to pretend she wasn’t enjoying every second of it. She wasn’t fooling anybody.

  Just how jealous would Drahn be?

  “Thank you,” Nivian said. “Hiral, we’ll catch up soon.”

  “Sounds good,” Hiral said. “Oh, and can you check in with Ilrolik again? I know we talked on the way down, but I’m worried about them getting found by the Raze’s constructs. With us coming through the Black Gates, the concentration of runic energy on Terminus is changing. The Raze might send somebody to find out why.”

  “I’ll make sure she understands, while Wule is figuring out what’s going on here,” Nivian said.

  “Perfect,” Hiral said. “Then, it’s time for the rest of us to go.” With a nod from his party members, Hiral reached out with his scarves to grab each of them, then floated up into the air. Unlike his usual burst of speed, he didn’t shoot off toward where the Fountain lay. Instead, it was more like he was caught on a gentle breeze, gliding in that direction with the others held behind him.

  To the caretaker who stopped to again stare at him, it had to look a little strange. Hopefully not too much like a squid…

  Still, whatever imagery his approach must have elicited, the caretaker didn’t move. They stood there watching Hiral and the others approach, lantern held low so the light barely illuminated their cloaked leg and the arranged body next to them.

  “Left, is Perfect Sense ready?” Hiral asked, coming in at a slow angle to land at an edge of the platform that wasn’t lined with bodies.

  “Ready,” the double said.

  As Hiral’s feet touched down on the stone—the others landing a second later—the caretaker remained staring in their direction.

  “Hello,” Hiral said, starting with something simple, and not moving an inch from where he’d landed.

  Silence followed for several seconds.

  “Huh,” the caretaker said. “My hallucinations usually start dancing around now. Why aren’t you doing a jig?”

  To say the man’s voice was raspy would’ve been an understatement. It sounded like his throat had sand moving across stone through it, instead of air on flesh.

  “Because my sister is a terrible dancer,” Seeyela said. “We didn’t want you to think we were attacking you.”

  “I’m the only one feeling attacked right now,” Seena groaned.

  “They don’t usually argue with each other, either. Just me,” the caretaker said, his empty hand slowly, and very carefully lifting to reach into his hood. The sleeve fell back from his arm, revealing the alabaster-white skin of a Pilgrim—or a Possessed—that was barely more than skin over bone. Bandages dirty with dried blood and grime wrapped around his wrist, and his hand moved with controlled precision to scratch at his face. Like each of his steps had been slow and methodical, each movement of his hand seemed to contain only the absolute minimum amount of energy and speed required.

  “We’re not hallucinations,” Hiral said.

  “You have to be,” the caretaker responded. “You look too healthy to be real. No cuts. No breaks. Nobody lives this long without getting a few of those.” As he spoke, his arm once again slowly lowered with careful control.

  “We’re not from around here,” Yanily said. “Not that old either. Well, except for Laseen, she’s ancient. Oh, and I guess Seeyela is getting up there in…”

  WHAP, the sound echoed across the city from the aforementioned Daughter of the Last Sentinel’s slap to the back of Yanily’s skull. The move was sudden and sharp enough, the caretaker visibly winced at Yanily’s head jerking forward.

  “Owww,” the spearman said, rubbing where the woman had smacked him.

  “You deserved it,” Seeyela said.

  “She let you off easy,” Seena added.

  “Yeah, I see the error of my ways… along with some stars,” Yanily grumbled.

  In front of all the nonsense, the caretaker’s hand slowly went up to the back of his head, like he imagined getting hit there himself. His own touch startled him, having not even realized what he was doing, and his hand dropped back to his side at the exact same speed he did everything else.

  “You should be more careful,” the caretaker said. “A joke isn’t worth living with that pain.”

  “What pain?” Yanily said. “Already gone. Abyssal Regeneration isn’t half-bad.”

  “Gone?” the caretaker said. “Hah, you had me going there. Or I should say I had me going. I really thought—just for a few seconds—you all might not be hallucinations. Maybe I should get some sleep…” The hooded man shook his head, then slowly began to turn.

  “We really aren’t hallucinations,” Hiral said. “Why would you be so surprised Yan’s head doesn’t hurt anymore? She didn’t hit him that hard.”

  The caretaker stopped at Hiral’s words, head—then body—slowly turning back around to face them. “Huh. You usually vanish after I realize what you are. Is my mind playing new tricks on me? I’m sneaky.”

  “We’re not figments of your imagination,” Seeyela said. “You need a slap on the head too, to figure that out?

  At the half-threat—or maybe it was the normal terror Seeyela tended to inspire in people—the caretaker took a step back. Faster than the man had moved the entire time Hiral had seen him, it was the first move he’d made that wasn’t meticulously careful. And it cost him, his foot crunching down on a nearby finger. The sound and shock of what he’d just done was enough to have him tilting dangerously to the side, arms windmilling as he struggled to keep his balance. Out and up went the lantern, loosed from his grip, while the caretaker himself began to topple to the side.

  He didn’t go more than an inch before a gentle scarf of Rejection and Connection caught him—while another snagged the lantern—and eased him back to a standing position. The second scarf brought the lantern back to the man, then held it there in offering until he took it back.

  But, it wasn’t the lantern the man was looking at, nor the scarf that’d stopped him from falling over. No, his eyes were on the finger he’d stepped on, the joint clearly bent out of place from the break.

  “Oh, no, no, no,” the caretaker said. “Oh Nulokin, what have I done to you?” With the same speed the man did everything—other than falling—he knelt carefully down beside the broken finger, his own head tilted to the side like he couldn’t believe what he’d done. Then, reaching out purposely with his hands, he straightened out the finger as carefully as he could. “I’m so sorry, my friend.”

  Around Hiral, the party shared a look. Something was clearly going on here, and he had an uncomfortable feeling he was starting to figure out what that was.

  “Why is the broken finger so bad?” Hiral asked.

  “Because it will never heal,” the caretaker snapped. “And now he’ll have to live with this new pain forever. I’m so sorry Nulokin.”

  “I don’t think he’s worried about living or pain…” Yanily started, then changed what he was going to say. “Hold on, you don’t mean that corpse is still feeling things, do you?”

  “Of course he is,” the caretaker said. “Every ounce of his gouged flesh. Each of his ruined organs. And now the finger I broke. All of it, forever.”

  “How?” Seena asked, voice quiet at the horror of imagining that.

  “Because of what they did,” the caretaker said. “Because of the Raze. Nothing can be born. Nothing can heal or change. Nothing can die, no matter how much we wish we could.

  “All we can do is hurt.”

  Wanna Support Rune Seeker? Check out the Ebook and Audio Here! Thanks for your support:

  Amazon:

  Audible:

  Rune Seeker, Vol. 1 by J.M. Clarke, C.J. Thompson, Hardcover | Barnes & Noble?

  Rune Seeker (book 1) Book By Jm Clarke,cj Thompson, (Hardcover) | Indigo

  If you wanna chat about the book? Come to discord!

  If you're already on that discord? Go to "Get Roles" and you can get Rune Seeker updates, if you want :)

  Note my patreon does not have Rune Seeker chapters.