Abad-Shai, Master of the Vault, Eater, Nightstalker, slept for days.


    After his fight with the mage-turned-lich Kasimir, he had been broken. It took everything he had to defeat the lich, and he would have failed had it not been for his familiar Angra''s sacrifice. After she nearly faded away, he had managed to seal her spirit in a soul gem before she was lost forever, but he was still working on figuring out how he''d bring her back to the world. In the meantime, he was exhausted. He''d burned himself out saving his oldest friend and had been given strict bed rest by his new patron.


    Faye, the Divine Hero, the very person who was responsible for his first death five centuries ago, became his unlikely benefactor and patron. She had watched for centuries as her brother fell further and further into despair, and once she received word that Abad was alive again, she traveled to Farnfoss to meet with him, only to find him bloody and half dead. Contrary to Abad''s expectation that she''d put him back in his grave, she had instead supported him, granting him a pardon for his past deeds and taking him on as her vassal, which allowed him to avoid a very lengthy prison sentence given his immortality.


    At her orders, he was taken to one of the manor''s more lavish rooms and was tended to every day by a variety of healers and priests, including the surly dwarf Firtz and his nephew, whose name Abad finally learned: Kjormur. The younger red-haired dwarf was surprisingly mild-mannered, if overly serious, and pleasant when compared to his grumpy uncle. During his past two weeks of healing and rest, he had been forced to endure torments no man should have to. Bitter tonics and potions were poured down his throat several times a day, and healing light was channeled into his corrupted body, which made his skin itch. Despite these torments, his body slowly mended from the variety of wounds it suffered during his final battle with Kasimir, and his spirit was beginning to heal as well after his desperate casting of [Eclipse] against the Hero''s brother.


    In those two weeks, the wolf woman Zethari rarely left his side. She often growled at the people who filtered in and out of his room. When asked, she said she had no reason to spend time with and didn''t trust the te''ra, or mortals, and that she was perfectly content guarding him as he rested. He asked why she stayed by his side, explaining that she didn''t owe him anything, but she only responded that he had saved her life, and her people took life debts seriously. Beyond that, she felt that her people were bred to serve the nightstalkers, known as the so''dra to her people and the shadowspawn to his, and she believed that he would liberate her people once he healed. He had said as much before he passed out and still felt that path was appropriate for him. Despite that, he often told her she should go find another room in the large manor and rest, but one look from those feral yellow eyes of hers was enough to end any conversation.


    Keila, Abad''s friend and lover since he had woken up, also stopped by occasionally despite Zethari''s obvious hatred for the woman. While not directly involved with capturing Zethari and her mate Rennar, Keila''s connection with the large slaving ring in western Elysium made her an easy target for the wolf girl''s ire. Rightfully so. However, Zethari often gave them privacy nonetheless, but he and the blonde woman hadn''t been able to have a true heart-to-heart since he learned she had been lying to him from the moment they met.


    According to Keila, Faye had said that Keila wasn''t about to get a free ride just because she''d helped Abad. As such, she''d been put to work righting the many wrongs done by her and her fellows. Luckily, the woman was shrewd, clever, and hard-working, and she took to the work readily. She felt like Faye had given her a new direction, one that allowed her to use her natural talents for the greater good instead of for the enrichment of wicked people like Bolton. In the small moments when they could talk, she gushed to Abad, sharing details of her life and duties. However, he noticed something odd about her demeanor. Although she seemed pleased to share updates with him, there always seemed to be something else on her mind. One evening, when Zethari had stepped out, Abad finally asked her what was wrong.


    "Hey..." He looked at her intently from his bed once she stopped talking about her day. "Is something the matter?"


    "Hmm? What do you mean?" Keila''s eyes didn''t meet his.


    He smiled at her, but a pinch in his side had him wiggling around until he found a more comfortable spot to rest. His rib had in fact been broken, and badly. It was mending, but it often hurt. "Ever since I woke up, you''ve seemed... anxious. Like there''s something you want to talk to me about."


    She didn''t speak for a while, and her eyes still didn''t meet his. After a minute, she seemingly found the words and spoke. "I''m sorry." Her voice shook. She kept staring downwards, as though ashamed. "For everything that happened between us. I lied to you so much. Lied to everyone. I hated everything that we did so much, but I still did it. I''m just grateful I get to right some of those wrongs." Her eyes grew misty, but she blinked her tears away.


    "There''s nothing to forgive. It''s not like I was being exactly honest either. I mean, you couldn''t get away from me fast enough when you saw what I really looked like." He laughed and gestured at his horns, and she finally looked up and smiled.


    "I suppose your horns are an acquired taste. I''ve grown used to them now." Her smile faded. "I never had a choice. This fucking thing kept me trapped in a life that disgusted me," she gestured to the mark on her neck. It had faded slightly after Abad destroyed [Final Law] to save Angra, but the brand was still active. He could feel it. Now that Bolton was dead, it would slowly bleed away her energy not to him but into the void. That is unless Abad could figure out how to unravel it, which he''d been working on in between the bitter tonics and the heavy naps. "I know I don''t deserve pity, but I still wish I could be forgiven, you know?" Her eyes finally met his. He understood her meaning.


    "Keila..." He spoke softly. "You don''t know everything, but you know enough now to understand my past. You can''t imagine the horrors I committed in the name of what I called justice. I destroyed lives, ended nations, waged war, and harmed countless innocents. I killed and tortured without remorse, and I enjoyed every bit of it. I twisted life itself when it suited me, and when I did, I didn''t feel a thing." He gestured to his horns. "I believed it was in my nature." His words felt hollow. "No. It is in my nature. I''m born of the essence of the Dark Lord himself." The memories rushed back, and his expression darkened. "That''s why I have to try even harder now to be more, otherwise I''ll just keep hurting people."


    "Yeah..." A soft smile played on her lips. Her eyes twinkled as she gazed on him again. "After the first time... in the Vitas river... I had claw marks on my back and butt. I thought we got too rough, but I understand them better now." She took his hand in hers and ran her fingertips along his sharp black nails.


    He laughed. "Sorry about that. They''re not exactly claws, but they''re pretty sharp."


    "Yeah, you need to be careful with those things." Her smile wavered. "I''ve been thinking about something you said when we first met. You really weren''t lying back then. Back when you told me about yourself." There was a hint of sadness in her words. "You really don''t have anything but bitterness behind you, huh?"


    "Yeah, but I hope to change that moving forward." He smiled at the woman. "And it all hasn''t been so bad recently. Thank you for being there for me. I''d have been far worse off without your support."Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    She smiled, reached out, and squeezed his hand. "I''m happy I could be there."


    A few minutes went by as neither could find the words.


    She found them first. "So, Faye told me the two of you have history?" That brought a laugh out of him, given its understatement.


    "Yeah... Let''s just say we go way back. I''ll let her tell the story when you two get the chance."


    "Sounds good..." The room grew heavy again with unspoken words. "Abad... I." The words died on her lips.


    He understood. "It''s okay. Just know that I appreciate you, and I want you to be happy. I think you will do well with Faye. She seems to have plans for you, and you are more than capable. I think you''ll do far more good out there with her than you ever could with me. She even told me the other day that you also became her vassal. I''m proud of you." He squeezed her hand. "Follow your path, Keila."


    Her eyes started to water again. She rubbed her face to try and wipe away the tears, but they flowed freely. "Thanks." She smiled. "I''ll be around if you need me, ''kay?" She squeezed his hand one last time and left the room.


    They had only ever enjoyed one another''s company. Still, she ended up being a good friend in the end. Abad hoped things worked out well for her. He felt like she would accomplish much, and he wanted the best for her.


    He settled back into his pillows and fell into a light sleep.


    ***


    Abad awoke sometime later. He heard Zethari stir next to him on the small cot that had been placed beside his bed. His thoughts wandered back to Keila. He sighed deeply. The wolf girl beside him stirred again, and her eyes opened, meeting his.


    "Nightstalker." Her voice was gravelly. "How do you feel?"


    Abad considered her question. He focused his mind inward for a moment, sensing the state of both his mind and body. He''d recovered much. "Much better, thank you." He chuckled. "You know, you can call me by my name, right?"


    "I wouldn''t dishonor one of my creators in such a way." She rose from the cot, stretching her lithe body in a way that displayed her incredible musculature. The woman was nothing but muscle and power personified.


    He thought for a moment. How could he have a more normal relationship with the woman? An idea occurred to him. "I command you to call me by my name," he replied with a smirk. "Would you disobey the order of one of your creators?"


    She frowned. "No. Sod''ra should be respected."


    "How are you supposed to respect me if you refuse to call me by my name when I ask you to?" The irony wasn''t lost on her, given how she suddenly growled.


    "My lord... Abad-Shai...?" She grimaced as she spoke his name. "I feel that we should get on our way soon. The te''ra whisper to themselves about the nightstalker and his pet. They believe we will bring ruin to them." She smiled, her fangs gleaming in the morning light. "Not that I would mind. They are weak. I would strike them down if you but asked. That woman could not stop us before we brought ruin to many, night— Abad-Shai."


    He waved off the notion with a flick of his wrist. "Don''t worry about them. The te''ra say many things they don''t mean. You should learn to pay their words less mind. It''s their actions that matter most, and they have shown themselves to mean well."


    She shrugged. "Easy for you to say. You have preyed upon their kind for ages. We have not had your experience and do not understand them." She withdrew into herself for a moment. "Perhaps I should practice understanding them better." She thrust her fist into her hand. "Odana often said it was best to understand the prey before the hunt. I will heed your advice."


    "All I ask is that you think on it, Zethari." Odana. He remembered that name. It had been one of the women at the bathhouse. The snake woman. He would need to go to the bathhouse soon, once he learned how to undo [Final Law]''s brands. The fey''ra there had been badly treated by the goblin proprietor. He''d resolve that little issue. He sat up in bed. "Zethari. May I observe your brand?"


    She tilted her head but obeyed. Pulling down the front of the thin blue shirt she wore, the mark came into view.


    "Come closer."


    She stood and sat at the side of his bed. He reached his hand up and placed his fingers on her neck. She twitched at his touch, still being unused to gentle gestures. "Thank you," he whispered as he closed his eyes, concentrating on the mark and delving with his senses into her flesh. He reached into the brand. The magic within was still active, but with the power of the scepter no longer sustaining it, he knew that the magic within could more easily be manipulated than before.


    "Abad-Shai." Her voice held a hard edge.


    He realized his hand on her neck was more intimate than he had intended, but he had little choice. He needed to touch the brand to delve into it. Even if he weren''t at a quarter of his power in that moment, he''d still need to be in contact with her. "If I don''t learn how these brands work, I won''t be able to undo them. Please, tolerate me a while longer." A pang of guilt hit him then. He had crafted similar brands in the past and had never cared to learn how they could be undone. He never had cause to do so. He''d never freed anyone. He delved into the brand''s foundational magics and tried to understand how it worked.


    The sigil within the brand wasn''t so complicated. It was a form of black magic that corrupted the nature of the patron-vassal relationship. That dynamic of the Goddess''s system didn''t exist in his time, so the brand didn''t work exactly the same way his brands had, but the concept was similar. He could understand the foundational principles with the help of some supplementary reading he''d been engaging in. He had ordered books from the Mage''s Guild and learned more over the past month of bed rest.


    Once Ta-Li and Fizzle, the only two remaining chartered mages in Farnfoss and the two resident members of the local Mage''s Guild, had caught wind of who and what he was, they had personally come to visit him. Ta-Li, being one of the few people in this age who actually knew who he was, had stars in her eyes, and even the taciturn Fizzle had shown him respect once the man had read about his exploits. They offered him any services they could provide, and Fizzle had put his name in for testing, saying that Abad had long ago met the requirements for joining the Guild. He thanked the man and decided he''d take up the opportunity if it presented itself. A day later, a stack of books arrived in his room.


    What he learned from the books was interesting.


    The Goddess had been petitioned in the time of the Hero of the West when Abad''s dark sister Avara was scourging the land. After being petitioned, the Goddess blessed mortals with the ability to swear allegiance to one another. She did this because, after Abad''s time, the population of Reial exploded, and the monsters that had been everywhere in the Fourth Age had largely receded to the dark places of the world. It became difficult for mortals to unlock the heroic classes that seemed so ubiquitous in his time, so the Goddess granted mortals the ability to empower one another. A patron, someone with a heroic class, offered their vassals power, security, and community, and the patron in turn gained loyal retainers.


    Unlike the brands, however, the relationship was reciprocal and agreed upon when the contract was entered. Generally, either party could end it at will if they chose, though social pressure and politics often had a hand in the dynamic, and some individuals and groups, like his kind and the fey''ra, weren''t permitted to live without patrons due to their inherent power and the risk they represented. Generally, they were given unilateral contracts rather than bilateral ones.


    However, Bolton''s use of [Final Law] had perverted that relationship. He had given patrons absolute power over their vassals, and vassals who disobeyed their masters forfeited their very essence to their patrons. From what Keila told him, patrons who were displeased with their vassals, or claimed as they were often called, would give them unfulfillable orders, forcing them to forfeit their life force and live in pain. Abad had asked Zethari why the goblin hadn''t done so to her in the bathhouse, but she merely smirked, saying she had caused trouble when he''d tried. He didn''t pry further.


    Finally, after many minutes of analyzing the brand, he came upon something within. It felt like a knot of black energy wound around the sigil inside the brand.


    [Corruption]


    He cast his black magic into the knot, and a moment later, the brand''s magic unraveled. Opening his eyes, he watched as the mark faded from her skin, a small black cloud filling the air as it did.


    [Essence Transfer]


    He willed the black essence into his spirit, and it didn''t hesitate to enter him. It resonated with the shadows within his black—but far less black than it used to be—spirit.


    As the mote of black entered him, his scroll unfurled in the air, and words burned themselves on the page for the first time in weeks.


    <hr><hr>


    You have received the [Unravel the Chains That Bind] quest.


    [Unravel the Chains That Bind]: Free those enslaved by forbidden magic by discovering those inflicted with it and dismantling the enchantments that keep them bound.


    <hr><hr>


    As he and Zethari read, she smirked. "I told you you would help my people, nightstalker."