Hold tight to your faith. For in the darkness, it shall be the light that will show the wicked you cannot be touched.

Book of Earoni 15:3

Wedged between boulders, huddled around a fire too small to keep them warm, Kilan and Daphney waited out the cold autumn night. Eight more had joined them, all survivors of the assault on Ishenvol. These others had all fled before the fighting had begun, bolting from the field of battle during the chaos when Lady Noranda rent the land apart. They were cowards, but none of that mattered now. All of them were all in the same sinking boat.

The entire party remained quiet until their final member rejoined them in the faint light. "It's still not safe to travel," he informed them. Dressed in farmer's clothes, the man took up a solemn place by the fire. Dried mud covered the bottoms of his trousers and his shoes. "There must be at least a thousand Imperial troops out in these woods."

He still wore his silver ring with the rebellion's symbol etched in it, which put him in the minority of those assembled. Only he and one other still did. The rest of these men had already disposed of theirs, not wanting to risk being captured and having themselves easily identifiable as dissidents.

Daphney hadn't slept since the Rebellion's failed show of force. Her mind was too busy processing every minor detail of their defeat. Two days later, they were now trying to figure out what their next move would be. She lifted her troubled gaze up from the flames to address the situation. "Eventually they're going to find us if we don't get out of here."

"They're making a very thorough search," their scout presented his assessment. "But they've yet to cross over the marsh and march this way. If we head southwest, we could be in the Borderlands in five days."

Kilan threw cold water on the idea. "But we'd have to go over the Low Mountains and through a desert in order to do that."

Another of the men about the fire lamented, "Better that than wind up in Lord Hedric's dungeon. I've heard about what General Nightwing does to rebel prisoners down there. I'll cut my own throat before getting captured."

"What about," yet another started, "if we just doubled back until we hit the marsh. Use it to cover our tracks? Then head north and over top of them?"

"If we get that close," their scout interjected, "there'd be a danger of getting spotted."

Yet another of the once deserters gave his opinion. "Well, like the cleric said, eventually they're going to find us. If we don't make a move by tomorrow evening, we might as well surrender and plead for mercy."

Then yet another, one standing to Kilan's right, added, "Maybe if we just give them the cleric we could-"

That was all the pathetic weasel of a man was allowed to get out. Before another word, Kilan's slim blade was to his throat and her bodyguard was behind him, forcing the deserter's wrist up to the base of his neck. "Finish that suggestion," he growled, tightening his hold, "and you won't have to worry about Imperial soldiers one minute more."

Daphney stroked the medallion in she wore, fully aware of the now silent man. His eyes wide, they darted from side to side, thinking about if he should pursue his line of reasoning further or remain quiet. None of the others dared move to help him and she smiled. Although she hoped some divine response would come to her and tell her what to do. When none came, she determined she would have to decide on her own.

"We'll double back through the marsh and then to the north. We can head for Tulea."

Kilan remained with his knife to the man's throat, waiting for an order to stand down as he offered his assessment. "Gwen Havarston already betrayed us once. What makes you think we can trust her this time? What makes her any better than these pathetic cretins that we've picked up? They're all traitors and cowards."

"Traitors? Yes. Cowards? Yes." She nodded with each admission. "But, tell me this, Kilan. That man you hold under the edge of your knife, you want to kill him for me? Don't you? Make an example out of him?"

"Give me the word, Miss. Crenst. You know I will. Better to make an example out of this worm to keep the others from thinking the same thing."

Daphney nodded. "Ok then, I will make you a deal. Kill him." The man's eyes widened at the statement and Kilan's dagger started to cut, drawing a first drop of blood. But it halted its death stroke upon her next words. "On one condition. That you have never, not once been afraid and turned and ran from something you were scared of."

The cleric stood there. She saw the edge of Kilan's knife twitch and his prisoner flinched each time it did so. "Fine." He pulled it away, allowing his captive to be free. There was no satisfaction in his single word response.

The man touched his neck, drawing his hand up before his eyes to examine the blood now on his fingers. "You're insane!"

Kilan jammed his knife back into its home. "No. Insane would be if I'd have killed you after Miss. Crenst told me not to." Then he turned to the cleric and asked, "You certain that this is the best course?"

"Earoni has made this decision for us." No one needed to know there wasn't any divine inspiration behind her choice. "Her wisdom is beyond what we can hope to comprehend." She hated to do it, but she had to at least try to show those that followed her Earoni was with them. "How many hours until the sun comes up?" She directed her question to their scout.

"Perhaps six?"

"And how far to the marsh?"

"Hour on foot."

She nodded. "Then I suggest we get moving and use the night to our advantage."

Every step sunk into the soft ground. The summer rains having gone, autumn's dryer weather had allowed much of the waters to soak into the surrounding soil, making the thick grasses and trees of the marshland's passable without having to slog through waist deep water. Crud laden mud stained the lower parts of their clothing as they pressed on. Daphney had given up trying to keep the hem of her cleric's robes from meeting a similar fate.

They traveled only by the light of Earoni's Eye. Now exposed and rotting vegetative matter reeked in the pitch blackness as they slogged along in silence, hoping to reach the northern extent of these waterlogged lands before day break.

Kilan sent their only horse galloping off to the west. The plan was that if someone found the trail, they would follow it rather than them. It was a longshot, but one worth taking. The horse would have been no use through this terrain anyway.

He had them march in a single file line, following in his footsteps. Kilan picked his way along, desperate to avoid not only possible Imperial patrols but also any of the potential dangers of the area. Those included dragon constrictors, that could grow to over twenty feet long, mammoth gators, and man sized snap-nosed turtles. Any of those predators could take down one or two members of their party before anyone could react.

When Kilan stopped, his hand quickly up into a fist, everyone else did the same. What had caught his attention was too odd to not notice. He could have sworn that he'd seen what looked like the glow from red eyes in the night.

"What is it?" Daphney whispered, taking cautious steps to come up behind her faithful escort. The others were following her.

Kilan ignored her question and its distraction, continuing to scan the area. After about a minute of not being able to find any more sign of what had caused him to call a temporary halt to their trek, he replied. "Thought I saw something," his voice was about half as loud as Daphney's had been. "But I can't see it any more."

"Like what?"

"Eyes. Red eyes. Probably just a tiger whippoorwhill, a large predatory owl. But they're gone. Couldn't make a positive identification. Disappeared behind that tree up ahead." He pointed. "Thought it would have come back out by now."

"So, what do we do?"

"We keep moving. But twice as cautious as before." He lowered his hand and started forward once more. "Single file, on me."

And everyone did. The tree where he'd claimed to have seen the strange eyes was up ahead and loomed large in everyone's thoughts as they approached. Passing it one by one, each person gave at least a cautious look behind it. There was nothing odd, and they moved on.

For Daphney though, there was a tickle within her. Something wasn't right. No matter how hard she tried, the feeling would not leave her. She tried to dismiss it due to the dark, the stress of being on the run, anything. But to no avail.

On an instinct, she turned her attention behind her and immediately stopped. "Kilan," she whispered. When he didn't reply, she said his name again. "Kilan?"

"Yeah?"

"Weren't there eleven of us?" Her eyes went down the line as far as her nighttime adjusted sight would allow. Other than her and Kilan, Daphney only counted nine in total.

The man next behind her also rotated to take a count, pointing to each with his fingers as he did and their entire party ground to a halt. "Where's Aran? And..." he squinted. "Beck?"

"Shit," Kilan drew his dagger.

The rest of their group came closer together, allowing a formal count. Kilan, however, had already confirmed that two of their number were missing. But he wanted to be sure. As the count was taken once more, apprehension hung around them even heavier than the stench of the marsh.

"Swamp hole?" one of the men asked.

"Not if you all were following in my footsteps," Kilan rebuked. "And swamp holes don't swallow up a man so fast that he doesn't at least have a chance to scream for help."

"Mo? Aran?" the man who had originally confirmed Daphney's fears yelled into the darkness.

Kilan cracked him upside the back of his head. "Don't yell, you fool. Want the Empire to know where we are?" He then started to take stock of the situation. "If they'd have been attacked, we'd have heard it too. None of the predators in these swamps are the quiet type."

"They desert us again?" Daphney asked.

"Maybe. Be stupid to have done so. I don't see them making it out of these marshes alive on their own. Neither one of them exactly struck me as the outdoorsy type. You," he pointed to their scout, the only one among the remaining group to seem to have any modicum of calm. "You hear anything?"

"Not a sound other than us trudging through this wet shit hole."

"What about you, Miss. Crenst? You picking up on anything?"

Daphney's hand had the instinct to move and touch the medallion about her neck. Upon her first attempt, her fingers couldn't find it. A second effort proved equally futile. That was when she looked down, searched where it should have been hanging with her eyes, and realized it was no longer there. "My necklace-"

"What?"

She kept searching, as though more time would make it appear. "It's gone."

"Great."

To her knees, Daphney's first inclination was to feel around at the ground under her. No matter how much of the soft earth her fingers grabbed at, her desperation yielded no positive results. It was after realizing that the necklace was really gone that she looked up and her eyes locked onto the two red orbs in the distance.

They hung in the darkness. Watching.

She scampered back to her feet, more covered in the muck of this place than before.

"Behind me, Miss. Crenst," Kilan pushed her back.

"What is that thing?" One of their dwindling numbers cried out. And then chaos.

The eyes flashed forward and were upon them. Like in the middle of a winter's ice storm, Daphney's blood froze. Darkness swallowed up one of the men hanging near the outside edge of the group. He was just gone, devoured by it with nothing left except a memory of his horrified expression.

"What the-" yet another of their members shrieked. He was the only other one besides their scout still wearing one of the silver rings. "What is that thing?"

"Everybody!" Kilan circled Daphney, "Form up on me. Now!"

"Did you see what it did to Faras? It's going to get all of us!" Then he bolted from the group, tearing his ring from his finger and leaving it behind. "Let it have the cleric!"

"Stop!" Kilan's words were too late. Not more than ten feet from them, all watched as he was the next to vanish when red eyes descended on him.

The only part of Daphney that seemed to resist the paralysis consuming her body were her legs. They moved without her control, backing her up, away from what she had just witnessed. No one seemed to notice what she was even doing. Not even Daphney, until she was a about five paces back from the group and ice collapsed around her.

Kilan was quick as she felt herself becoming consumed. He pulled her away from the red eyes and the void that accompanied them a moment before she imagined her heart would have stopped. Her bodyguard didn't treat her gently, tossing her like a rag doll and she sprawled on the ground in a second.

Knife brandished, he stood nose to nose with the demon that had tried to take her. It hesitated, but not for long. Talons of night at the end of tendrils of nothingness lashed out. It grabbed for his heart.

To Daphney's surprise, Kilan did not flinch. If anything, he seemed to throw his chest out and encourage it. When the beast's touch met his flesh, it burned. At first it fell back, but came at him again, blazing once more as it contacted his skin. It growled like a confused animal with feral instincts.

Tearing open the buttons on his shirt, Kilan displayed the tattoo of the eagle he had revealed to Daphney during their stay in Kannas. "You picked on the wrong person," he bared his teeth and then lunged for the specter, wrapping his arms around it. The assault forced it to make contact with the symbol of the Greater Goddess etched with perminance upon him. He was surprised how solid the beast felt.

Despite its struggle, the creature could not overcome what it was forced to confront. Smoldering and withering, the ice cold monster howled and thrashed. It struggled to escape, but Kilan anchored his fingered together behind it until the red eyes fluttered and winked out of existence, leaving behind nothing but the lingering smell of sulfur. Cracking his neck from his left to his right, Kilan re-buttoned his shirt, then offered a hand to Daphney as she still laid on the ground.

"What was that?" Daphney accepted his assistance to stand.

Kilan shook his head. "Something foul. And I'm sure it was some pet of Lady Noranda's drug up from The Dark sent to hunt for us. So let's get a move on. If there's one? There's bound to be more." But, before leading the party once more through the marsh, he went to where their foolish companion had ditched his ring.

Finding it wasn't hard. It was as though it called to him, and he plucked it up from the filth after only a second of searching. Wiping it off on his shirt he displayed it before him. Then tossed it to Daphney.

She juggled it, bouncing the band from one hand to the other before securing it.

"I'll take the lead," he announced. "Miss. Crenst, stay close behind me. You," he pointed to their farmer-scout, and the only other one among them still sporting his ring. "You're behind her. The rest of you sorry sacks? Fill in behind us."

"What if there's more of those things?" One of the remaining deserters called. "We ain't got no protection."

"Should've thought about that before you forsook your Goddess instead of embracing her. Now move out. It'll be light in a couple hours."