“The Daemon is a parasite, an unnatural blemish that should not exist. How I wish we had the strength to take the fight to them. See how they like their cities and homes destroyed!” - Theodosius Decimus Adamite shortly after the Second Battle of Primus

  It took an hour to get everything in motion. Salvatore informed Augustino and Angela so their respective forces could mobilize. The city gates slammed shut, and cittadini hid in their homes. No one had seen a daemon in centuries, but fear weighed heavily in the air, and the streets nearly erupted into chaos. In the market, vendors rushed to pack up their wares. Children whimpered as they followed their parents into their homes. Everywhere windows closed and doors slammed.

  Leo, Martin, Elizabeth, Annabelle, Avella, Salvatore, and Etheros all made their way to the temple. Elizabeth and Annabelle had little idea why Etheros had insisted they come, but they reluctantly obliged. Generale Augustino and Julia were also in attendance.

  The group entered the temple, acolytes ushering them in. The foyer was quiet and serene. Torches corralled the darkness on various pillars, which glowed with pure white beauty. There was a table with a great bowl for offerings and copies of La Saga degli Dei. They proceeded to the sanctuary, the biggest room in the temple. Leo was distracted by the mosaics. They still amazed him, even amid crisis; they calmed his mind. The tableaus formed the entire surrounding walls, intricate and colorful.

  “The gates are locked, and my milizia is on high alert,” said Angela, who had just joined the group.

  “I have mobilized my guardia as well,” added Augustino.

  Avella placed her hand on Etheros’ shoulder. “Do not worry; you’re safe here.”

  Etheros grumbled as he took a seat at the altar. “I appreciate your efforts, but I fear this will not be enough. If I have been here for four days already, I don’t know how much longer we have. Something is profoundly wrong. The daemon who attacked me was . . . different, more . . . resistant.”

  The wizard’s gaze fell upon Leo. Etheros read him with his Soulsight. Interesting. An officer of a local mercenary company, and yet with enough influence and respect to be a voice here. The more he read the people in the room, the more information Etheros could glean, and the more he became concerned.

  “As if the magical attacks weren’t as effective?” asked Avella.

  “Indeed. This sounds familiar to you all, doesn’t it?”

  Elizabeth pointed to herself and Annabelle. “Not to us. We were just minding our own business when you landed here. We have no idea what any of you have been talking about!” Annabelle pulled her aside and glared. “Don’t give me that look; it’s true.”

  Annabelle sighed. “Apologies for my friend.”

  Etheros waved her off. “No worries, it’s understandable.”

  “The point is,” said Avella, trying to get back on topic, “we have much to discuss, for if the same woes we encounter are afflicting lands as far as Yanneros . . .”

  Etheros nodded. “What is happening is on a far bigger scale than any of us thought.”

  They discussed much. Generale Augustino talked about Venito. Leo mentioned the encounter with the cloaked figures in Ravensend and his adventures with Avella to Raveno, along with the defiled sanctum and temple they found there. Leo and Avella also told the group about their harrowing ordeal on the river with the Benelim.

  Avella also mentioned the mysterious brand on the princess’s leg, her findings in the sanctum, and her fight with the rogue Godshard. Etheros and the others listened intently. At one point, Salvatore stepped away for a time with Martin. They returned shortly before Etheros began recounting his story.

  He spoke in greater detail about what had occurred, which seemed eerily familiar to what Leo and Avella had encountered. He had been in a lab studying when a daemon had somehow endured many fierce attack spells. Regenerating as if nothing happened. Before the creature could take him, Etheros desperately cast a teleportation spell. Something blocked the currents, but he was powerful enough to force his way through, even though he couldn’t hold out for long.

  “I was trying to invoke Exodus,” Etheros said.

  “What is Exodus?” asked Leo.

  “Exodus is a contingency plan amongst all Godshards,” said Salvatore. “Whether or not they are part of our sacerdozio.”

  “It states that in gravest peril, all Godshards, no matter their beliefs, power, location, and Shard size, must converge upon the Island City for safety and council,” Etheros explained.

  “Why is this happening? Why are the Godshards being killed like this?” asked Leo.

  “You misunderstand. They’re being taken, not killed, as in kidnapped. Whenever a Godshard dies, the shard returns to the world, and its mortal host fades into the Soul River. We would . . . feel it if that were the case. The Godshards are going missing; we cannot trace their presence.”

  “Which then leads to the question,” added Salvatore, “what does daemonkind want with the Godshards? And, why would a rogue Shard assist with this awful scheme? What does Morgash, curse her name, seek to gain?”

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  Avella turned to Etheros. “We were hoping Mago Aeneas at Raveno would have the council we require, but given what happened to him, you might be the only one who can give us a clue. What say you?”

  Leo watched him with covert anticipation. At last, they could now get some answers.

  Etheros was silent for a long moment. The thought of daemons made his hands shake. He couldn’t remember the last time he knew fear. The dreadful attack lingered in his mind’s eye. He had to put those thoughts aside and start with what he knew. “Daemons gain no sustenance from flesh, only from the soul or essence. Daemonkind has a strange yet intimate relationship with the spiritual. Daemon magic tends to focus on the soul as a result.”

  “Not to be morbid,” said Annabelle, “but perhaps the daemons simply want to eat the Godshards, away from interlopers?”

  Etheros shook his head. “Daemons know better than to try that again. No daemon wishes to end up like the daemon Lord Cerebus, who burned from the inside out after eating the hand of Venatus, the Hunter God. Or like daemon Lord Hanbi, who died trying to devour Adam the first. My point is daemons have a sense of . . . creativity regarding the soul and essence. As for Morgash, curse her name; its spawn have no soul of their own and only gain sustenance from flesh, as far as we know. An estranged opposite of daemonkind in every way. But perhaps they have a common enemy: the denizens of Terras Mortales and the Heavens. Furthermore, they both hunger. The alliance must be comparatively recent, and they are still experimenting.”

  “Are you saying Venito, with all its blood and ruin; was merely a test?” muttered Augustino.

  Etheros nodded. “Indeed. It is a shame that the dread-wasp leg was lost. Now, as for this rogue Shard, I believe this individual was not a shard of Omnitus but of Tenebrous.”

  “The Lord of Darkness?” asked Martin.

  “Impossible,” Avella scoffed. “The only known Teneb-Shard was Abel; curse his name. He was killed by Sommo Sacerdote Lazarus a couple of centuries ago, shortly before Primus fell.”

  “The only Shard we know of. Both Brother-Gods shattered that day. Who is to say that more pieces of Tenebrous aren’t out there?”

  “Because Godshards do not stray from the path of righteousness. Omnitus was a God of goodness and virtue, and that carries on in His Shards. If there were more Teneb-Shards out there, we would have seen more corruption and evil from Shards, but we don’t.”

  “That’s debatable, and I bet the Benelim would disagree too,” muttered Martin.

  “The Seerhood are far from saints either,” Elizabeth grumbled.

  Etheros clasped his hands together, silencing the dissent. “Let us go with this theory for a moment, for it would explain this rogue’s willingness to work with daemonkind. Tenebrous did the same.”

  Avella’s demeanor strained. “We will have to agree to disagree for now.”

  “Indeed. I do not know why daemons are taking the Godshards, but we must assume it is for a purpose most foul and find a way to save them. For now, we must get to the Island City. We can make our plans from there. Tressviae is fortunate not to be assailed by daemons yet, but I fear that luck will soon run out. Any Godshards in the city need to leave in haste.”

  “All the Shardlings, too?” said Angela. “Wizard Etheros, we cannot account for all of them. At least not in such a short period.”

  “I can’t go,” added Salvatore. “I am in charge of affairs in Tressviae until Conte Emanuele comes of age. I would need to sort that piece of business first.”

  “Regrettably, you are right about the Shardlings Angela,” said Etheros. He motioned toward at Annabelle. “but if nothing else, she needs to come along. At least we found one of them.”

  Annabelle tilted her head. “Me? I’m a Shardling. My shard is tiny. What use could the daemons possibly have with me?”

  “A Shard is a Shard, and with enough tiny ones, it might still add up.”

  “Then I’m going as well,” Elizabeth said, standing up. “She’s not going anywhere without me.”

  Etheros turned to her. “You have a fire in your soul, child, but know that you’ll need more than that for what this journey will entail if you decide to come along.”

  “I’m going, whether you want me to or not.” She looked at Annabelle. “I’ll keep you safe like I always do.”

  Leo stood forward. “I’m coming too. My task is to keep Maga Avalon safe.”

  Augustino nodded. “I agree. The Guardia Grifone needs to see this through.”

  Leo could see Elizabeth grumbling. He could only hope they’d get along. There was too much at stake.

  Etheros gave a final nod. “Then it’s settled. Pack up what you wish to bring and meet us outside the temple in an hour.”

  Salvatore walked between Etheros and Avella. His face was grim. “We need to talk. Alone.”

  ………………..

  Leo entered his home. He needed to change clothes and prepare his things for the long journey ahead. The more Leo dwelled on it, the more the weight of what was to come became heavier. The Island City was further away from Tressviae than Raveno. It would be a weeks-long journey, probably more given the number of people coming. Granted, Godshards seem to have found ways to cut down on travel time, but he didn’t know if the temple had any more maxime horses, and a daemon would likely be on their tail.

  Daemons. He hoped never to face them. A chill reverberated through his body when even thinking of them. His hands shook at the prospect of fighting one. Martin believed that cruelty for millennia left an impact on the human spirit. A fear that cannot be quelled. Leo sat in his chair and rested his head in his hands. He needed to stop and breathe. He still felt quite out of his depth, and it kept getting worse.

  He felt so alone. True, Elizabeth would be there, but they both knew it wouldn’t be the same. He’d only met Annabelle twice, and Etheros he had only met hours prior. Avella would be there, And they were forming something of a bond, but she also represented everything that made Leo nervous.

  What he wouldn’t give to have Giovanni at his side again. No matter what life threw at them, he always knew what to do and how to keep them safe. He longed for his guidance at the present moment. Even ten years later and it still hurt. His body shuddered. The horrors from that dreaded battle still haunted him. He remembered little, but that was fine with Leo.

  Some things never change; just like then, he felt so small, so weak. His present companions made things a little better. Etheros and Avella were powerful, but he had seen their weaknesses firsthand. If they were in trouble, then he was undoubtedly doomed. All he was, was a man with a sword.

  No.

  His eyes turned defiant. His stoicism returned in earnest. He was on his feet in a flash, standing tall and straight with dignity. He was more than that. Leo looked around at his modest but hard-earned abode. He might be just a man, but he had fought hard to get where he needed to be. To get to this point. He had kept going because he wanted to make the world a better place, and now here was an opportunity on a silver platter, given to him by fate or circumstance, or just plain dumb luck. He knew not what strength was within him, but he had to try. He would give it his all, because it was the right thing to do.

  He was confident that Giovanni would have given him the same guidance.