Katerin was content with her quiet life of studying the arcane, and wanted for nothing in her life. She had friends, family, and plenty to do.
But life has a way of changing people--a way of pushing them to do things far outside their comfort and ex...
"Katerin?" Typhon sputtered. "What in the nine hells happened?" He was staring with wide eyes at all the blood—horrified at the state of the three people who had just fallen from his teleportation circle and stumbled down the ladder, trailing blood and looking like something out of a nightmare.
"Sorry for the intrusion," Fykes slurred, trying to be calm and charming, and having the opposite effect, for once. "We'll just be on our way."
Typhon watched them leave, as suddenly as they had come. His glasses hung precariously on the edge of his snout as he tried to puzzle out exactly what he had just seen.
"I wonder if they got their spell to work," Wiggus said, his head crooked sideways as he watched them stumble away.
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They stumbled down the stairs, having to catch each other more than once. Katerin forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. They made it out of the Abstract Imblemgnomium, and headed down the road to the keep.
Katerin kept feeling an odd presence up against her mind. It pushed on her will, making her vision fuzzy. She passed it off as exhaustion and fatigue, and it made her unable to focus on more than one step at a time. But every few seconds, the sensation pulsed, pulling at her, making her vision spin.
The guards at the keep's gate hardly argued, recognizing the three. Though they followed them warily after they opened the gates, hands very near their weapons, expressions ranging from open horror to ill-concealed curiosity.
For once, Katerin did not care, nor was she intimidated by the fact that they wore a uniform. She stepped into Graiden's office without knocking.
He looked up in annoyance, though his expression shifted quickly as Katerin walked up to the desk. "Wha—" he began, voice rising in volume.
Katerin held up a hand. "We need to talk." Her voice was quiet and hoarse. She had to fight to focus her thoughts enough to speak. She pulled Byron's cloak free of her shoulder, dropping it on the desk, the medals glinting despite the blood. She set the amulet atop it, fingers quivering. Her useless arm held close to her side, as another wave of sickening dizziness overtook her.
Lugaria stepped from the wall, weapon in one hand, and watched them in silence. His gaze following the bloody trail out of the keep office and down the path.
Graiden's face paled. "What did you do?" he demanded. "What happened?"
"Byron didn't... want to be found," Katerin said, a feeling of terror welling up again, threatening to choke her. "He tried to kill us."
Graiden picked up the necklace, shaking his head. "This wasn't Byron's."
"It was," Fykes said, head hanging. "He wore it."
Graiden made a choking sound, and sat back down at his desk, scanning their faces for any hint of a lie. "Is he... is he?" The blood drained from his face.
