“Owen!” Raea shouted and tackled him. “I thought you were dead.” Tears formed in her eyes. Carmella and Gerome stood on either side of the two angels. Gerome scratched his head, while Carmella eyed Palan who had his arms across his chest. The first sun was just beginning to set, the trees casting long shadows on the ground.Owen extricated himself from Raea’s embrace and glared at Palan. His armor was caked in a layer of dirt. He snarled. “The hell was that?”Palan tilted his head. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”“The poison!” Owen shouted. “Everyone died because of you!”Gerome and Carmella took steps back as Owen marched forwards with his lance in hand. Palan snorted and unsheathed the two axes on his back. “You’re still alive aren’t you? Maybe I should rectify that.”

Palan leaned back against the rough cave wall, the rocks scratching at his bare skin, and gazed at the four angels sitting around the flickering campfire. The yellow moon hung in the sky, illuminating the entrance to the cave with a pale light. Gerome was whispering to Carmella while gesturing with his hands. A piece of roast meat rested on a broad leaf in his lap. Carmella’s expression remained unchanging as she grunted or nodded in reply, occasionally smiling while nibbling on a fruit. Raea and Owen sat on the other side of the fire from the two angels. Raea was silent as she ate her meal. She wore Palan’s shirt, and her cuirass leaned against a rock behind her. Owen sat with his head hung, staring at an untouched piece of meat in his lap. He hadn’t said a word on the way to the cave, not even when Emergency Victuals nipped his ankle for walking too slowly. The corners of Raea’s lips turne

Owen stood in front of a wooden gate with the two axes’ blades resting on the ground, the handles barely held up by his arms. Two blue lizardmen stood on a platform above the gate with bows in their hands. They glanced down at Owen and frowned, recognizing the axes he held. Owen dropped an axe and raised his visor, tilting his head upward at the lizardmen. “I have come to see Anidun. I bring a message from his demon.”One of the lizardmen flickered its tongue. “You come alone?”“Yes,” Owen said and released the other axe. He exhaled and rolled his shoulder before crossing his arms over his chest. “It is an important message. There is no time to waste. Anidun will see me; I know you lizardmen are not allowed to enter his residence.”The lizardman who spoke scratched its scaly chin before nodding. “I will tell the chief. It is up to him to decide whether you may enter,” it said and climbed down the watchtower, its claws sinking into the wood.Owen’s face relaxed and he exhaled again. He

Owen’s eyes opened, red sunlight shining on his face. He groaned and touched a bump on his temple. A splotch of blood appeared on his palm as he withdrew his hand. He stretched his legs out in front of himself, finding manacles attached to his ankles, binding him to the wall. He looked around at the room he was trapped in: The walls were made of dirt, the ground was made of dirt, the ceiling was made of dirt. A metal grate with the width of a person was embedded in the ceiling, letting sunlight in through its slits. Owen sighed as he stretched his neck while staring out of the grate. His lips contorted into a bitter smile as he dragged himself to his feet. He glanced at a corner of his prison; an image of five frightened children huddling next to each other appeared in his vision. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He exhaled and opened his eyes, the children disappearing. He clenched his hands and muttered, “Just like old times, huh?” Owen’s face hardened as he placed his

Palan smiled as he strolled through the lizardmen’s city. The streets were deserted and dark, the only source of light coming from the moon. The houses seemed empty with no candles or orbs to illuminate the buildings, but Palan could tell that they weren’t: he heard the lizardmen breathing in the darkness, sensed their beating hearts, smelled their fear. His eyes inspected the doors of the houses as he walked by, large crosses painted in blood decorated their exterior. Palan chuckled as he sauntered past a house with an open window, heading towards the more affluent area of the city. A child screamed inside the house before it was cut short and muffled, most likely due to its parents. Palan smirked as he started to whistle, his eyes scanning the buildings ahead. His gaze stopped on a mud-brick house, its door pristine and unmarked by blood. He smiled as he walked up to it and pressed the red blade of his dagger into the doorframe before sliding it do