Time Elapsed: 02:03:56

Maun took him to a familiar location.

The heat, sand and crumbling ruins were all Severance needed to recognize the place. He'd spent a lot of time with Batin here, though the majority of it had been under the heat of day. Now the sun was about to set, casting long shadows across cooling sands.

Clan members waited for them like dark wraiths. They stood motionless, silent, with only the evening breeze whispering through their clothing. Their faces were shadowed by the approaching dusk.

But Severance didn't need to see their faces to recognize them; he could see their names: Kamau, the gruff man in charge of clan 'security', and a man named Kioshi.

Kioshi was probably the most scarred man he had ever seen. The mangled flesh of half his face put even Hassiba's battle scar to shame. Thankfully the lighting was poor, so Severance wasn't able to see much of it.

There were two other people there. They were kneeling in the sand, hands bound behind their backs and a dark hood pulled over their heads. He blinked, suddenly unsure.

Prisoners?

"What's going on?" he asked.

Maun moved past him to stand near the captives. When he turned to face Severance, all hints of amusement had been scrubbed away.

"Do you remember what you agreed to help us with?"

For a blissful, ignorant moment, Severance's mind drew a blank. What was Maun talking about? He hadn't agreed to anything, had he? He looked at the hooded prisoners. Two of them, bound and held in an unknown, isolated place deep in the Lost Lands. Then he looked at the three Veiled men, all grim and serious.

And then he knew.

He knew why they were here.

They wanted to— they wanted him to— his mind filled with fuzz. He remembered the discussion, remembered agreeing, but never had he thought this moment would come so soon. He wasn't ready!

You promised, a tiny voice whispered. It was a quiet, soft reminder, but it might as well have been loud as a giant church bell ringing right overhead. It felt like cold shackles of iron snapping shut around his wrists, binding him a prisoner to his promise.

Something must have shown on his face, for Maun cocked his head. "Sev, if you-"

Severance shook his head sharply. Maun fell silent. Somehow, Severance made himself take a single step forward, and then another, getting closer to his clansmen and their captives. Each step felt like walking out on thinning ice, cracks splintering out as far as the eye could see.

A promise was a promise. No matter what.

"I remember," he said.

Thankfully, Maun only gave a curt nod in response. He turned to one of the prisoners, and grasped the hood. "We'll start with this one."

With one sharp yank, he pulled the hood off, revealing a thin, feeble old man.

Severance forgot how to breathe.

The old man lifted his head, ratty hair hanging in strings about his face. His creepy gaze found Severance, and cracked lips peeled back to reveal a chilling grin. Blood bubbled out of his mouth, adding to the growing stain of crimson that soaked his chin and the entire front of his soiled clothes.

A quiet cackle shattered the silence, as if Ervante found this situation to be completely hilarious.

Severance couldn't look away, even though he wanted nothing more than to turn and run at the sight of the Trader. It didn't matter that Ervante looked like he was a walking corpse. Seeing him like this was even more horrifying.

"We took his tongue, so you don't need to worry. He won't be able to use his skill." That was Maun, calmly stating a terrifying fact like he was reading a grocery list. "All you have to do is Revive him until he disappears."

"I... see."

Severance thought he should be relieved at that. The Veiled had taken Ervante's most dangerous weapon away from him, and rendered him as helpless as a babe. Standing here, with one of his greatest enemies before him like this, shouldn't he be happy? Shouldn't he be triumphant?

This solved one of his biggest problems in Eliona.

But Severance felt cold. Frightened.

"Let's get this done." Kamau moved behind Ervante. He went down on one knee, and carefully grabbed a fistful of that ratty hair. He tugged Ervante's head to the side, exposing the side of his pale, blood-stained neck.

Ervante's eyes held Severance's, bloodied mouth curved into a broken-glass grin.

Severance stared, heart thumping against his ribcage. He didn't remember summoning his war fans, but he held them now. The cold metal of their spines bit into his hands.

This can't be happening.

Kamau slid a knife from its sheath on his thigh. He didn't hesitate, didn't even take a moment to make sure Severance was prepared. He just touched the tip of his knife against the Trader's neck, and slid it home. Ervante didn't utter a sound as he gave a horrible shudder. When Kamau let go of his hair, he flopped over to his side and lay still.

Inhaling sharply, Severance stood frozen in stunned disbelief. The whole thing had happened so quickly, so easily. There'd been no struggle. There even wasn't all that much blood when Kamau pulled his knife free.

They waited for a long moment, but no supernova came. Just a few gathering sparks of violet.

The gruff clansman looked to Severance. "Well?"

Flinching, Severance jerked up his war fans. "Right." His voice was somehow steady, even though his hands trembled.

He wished he didn't have to look, but he had no choice. He looked at that horribly still form, and whispered, "Revive."

He felt the energy building in his fans, while silvery light gathered around him. The process seemed to take forever.

During that time, he felt the weight of three pairs of eyes, felt the pressure of everyone waiting for him to do his part. A mere ten seconds stretched into a nightmarish eternity. The silence that accompanied it was nearly unbearable, and it was only broken when wind danced across the sand, kicking up small skiffs, and then it gathered around the Trader and lifted him into the air.

In the darkness, they could see a faint green luminescence to the wind, a testament to the amount of energy it held.

They all heard the moment Ervante came back, for he let out a hoarse gasp, then wheezed as fresh blood seeped from the wound that had killed him. Kamau must have cut the airway, because the Trader kept wheezing and gasping as if he couldn't get enough air to breathe.

When his feet touched the sand, Ervante immediately collapsed into a heap. All Kamau had to do was simply lean over, and slit the Trader's throat. There was a lot more blood this time, bathing the sand with wet, dark fluid. It looked almost black in the fading light.

A soft sound came from the second prisoner, the one who kept kneeling beneath Kioshi's watch. Severance looked at them, and realized that they must have realized what was happening. They had to know that they were next to face such a fate.

Bile touched the back of Severance's tongue, forcing him to swallow it back down. Bitterness filled his mouth. He watched it all, unable to tear his eyes away even though he wanted nothing more to teleport away as fast as he could. But he stayed, and he watched until the last gurgle died in Ervante's bloodied throat.

They waited for a short while, and when a single violet mote sparkled into life over the wounds in Ervante's neck, Kamau looked over at Severance and gave a curt nod.

Again.

Severance did as he was asked. This time, his hands didn't shake. But he felt numb, distant, like he was a spectator watching a horror movie unfold from the safety of a warm couch.

This was necessary, he told himself. Ervante was a horrible monster. He deserved to die. It was better for everyone.

And yet...

Even if he'd done some truly terrible things, did he deserve to die this way? Was this right, in order to save the lives of others? Or was this wrong, because killing was wrong?

He couldn't find an answer to that.

All he knew was that it took four tries for Ervante to die. That he had to Revive him three times, and that Kamau had to kill him four times before his body exploded into a violet starburst of light.

Quest Updated: Eliminated targets
Ervante 1/1
Fester 0/1

And after that, Kioshi pulled the hood off the second prisoner, because they weren't done yet.

"This is Fester," Maun calmly informed him. As if it mattered. As if it made any difference.

Distantly, Severance looked at this second prisoner kneeling before them. It was a woman. And like Ervante, she hadn't been taken without a fight.

Dried blood left a crusted trail down the side of her neck. Her plain brown tunic was spattered with dark stains. Her breathing sounded ragged. And floating over her head in pale gray was her true name: Fauna Geriolis.

Severance stared at those letters.

"Her name is Fauna Geriolis," he said softly, wincing inwardly as he stumbled over her strange surname. "Are you sure she's the right one?"

Maun was watching him closely, and he looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't. He kept silent. Severance was both grateful and dismayed over that.

It was Kamau who answered his question, his tone gruff, his rugged face grim. "Absolutely sure."

"Okay." Severance swallowed, then repeated softly, mostly to himself. "Okay."

If they were sure, then there was nothing else. He could only do what he had agreed to, even though every fiber of his being dug in its heels, resisting the very thought, the very idea, because at the very core of his heart, he only wanted to help people. Not-

The woman made a garbled sound. It sounded angry, defiant, but whatever she was trying to say failed to be more than muffled gurgles. They'd gagged her, he realized, and felt something give in his chest. Instead of cutting out her tongue, they'd thankfully, blessedly gagged her.

That little detail made him want to laugh hysterically.

What was the point of such mercy when they were only going to kill her in the end?

Like before, Kauma slid his blade across her throat.

And like before, Severance Revived her.

It was somehow easier, this time. He was already numbed by Ervante's death. And perhaps, that was why Maun had chosen to start with the Trader. He'd known that it'd be easier to kill a familiar, creepy villain than a normal-looking woman that Severance knew very little about.

He could only trust that she was as bad as the Veiled made her out to be. That she deserved to die as much as Ervante did. He flinched at her whimpers, at the soft gargle of blood filling her airways.

And when it was done, and her last remains scattered like violet stars into the night sky, Severance felt like a piece of himself had scattered with her.

Quest Completed: Eliminated targets
Ervante 1/1
Fester 1/1

Title Gained: Dark Reviver. There are consequences to your actions. You are a sworn enemy of the Chosen and Traders and all will know it.

Maun silently patted his back. No words were said, which was a kindness. There were no words that could be shared to make any of this less awful.

It was too much.

"I better get back to my team." Severance moved away from Maun, and touched the ring containing his teleport crystal. He couldn't bear to be here even a second longer. Behind them lay a darkened patch of sand. It was the only thing left of the prisoners.

"Thank you," Maun said then.

Severance just waved with his free hand, unable to bring himself to even look at the clansman. He felt gross, like he was covered in a layer of rotten grime even though he hadn't even gotten a single drop of her blood upon him. His eyes burned, and he was grateful when the snow came and took him away.

It had only taken a few minutes, as Maun had promised, yet when he appeared on the platform outside the dungeon, it felt like an insurmountable period of time had passed. He blinked, feeling the heat of the air. It was different from the drier, thinner air of the Lost Lands.

He stood still, and breathed it in. The warmth of it touched his airways, filled his lungs. But he still felt cold.

"You're back!" Awesome Dude was the first to greet him, as usual. The Shade's grin almost instantly faded, replaced by concern. "Sev? What happened?"

He looked at his friend blankly. "What?"

"You look-" Awesome Dude cut himself off, before accusing, "Did Maun do something? What did he want? Are you okay?"

The questions caught him off guard. And then he almost chuckled humorlessly.

"He didn't do anything," Severance said. Not exactly. Most of the doing had been Kamau and himself. He shivered. "I'm fine."

"But-"

"It's nothing," he said, forcing a smile. He didn't want to talk about it. Nor did he even want to think about it. Couldn't they just focus on defeating this stupid raid instead?

Fortunately, Awesome Dude took the hint. But he pressed his lips together and gave him a disapproving look that would have fit better on a mother's face.

Severance's skin prickled. Instinctively, he turned to find Jack Coyote all but glowering at him. The tank didn't look happy for whatever reason, but then again, when had he ever looked happy?

Severance looked away. It wasn't like he'd been gone for long. There was no way they'd been waiting on him, especially with Ironhide in deep discussion with most of the DPS. It looked like they were still hatching out a plan.

He wandered over to the group. He really didn't feel like it, but it was better than just standing around with Jack glaring at him.

"How's it going?" he made himself ask.

"Good, I think." Ironhide looked over with a brief smile. "We're about ready to go back in. Everything... is everything all right?"

"Fine," Severance cut in wearily. Couldn't they just move on already? "Just some clan stuff. Is there anything I missed?"

Now Ironhide was giving him that look. Both him and Morning Glory. Severance tensed as the group fell silent, and he tried so very hard to not remember the way the Chosen woman had gasped for breath. That had been the only sound to break the silence out on the sands.

That, and his own voice, saying Revive.

Some healer he was. Killing instead of healing.

He wondered what Uncle Fenn would think of him now. If he'd known how his nephew would become a cold-hearted killer, would he still have given him the game?

This was no game. It never had been.

"Severance?"

He started badly, snapping his head up—when had he started staring at the ground?—and found Ironhide right in front of him, looking at him with worry. The tank had been saying something, Severance realized.

"Sorry," he muttered. "What did you say?"

"I was just saying that we were going to switch up the positions," Ironhide slowly said. There was an odd note to his tone. "You and Morning Glory will stay where you are, but Jack's going to take over as main tank. He also thinks your electrical attacks might slow the Boss, so you're to use them as much as you can. Mr Softee will be in the back with Morning Glory, and he's going to be helping with support."

"Yeah, because apparently the ground turns to lava when I attack," Mr Softee said. "I'm just too powerful, I guess."

"Sure," Mr Snowman smirked. "If that's what you want to believe."

Morning Glory rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you can still punch the robot."

"What good is that?" Mr Softee demanded. "I'm practically unemployed now!"

YellowThere tilted his head. "That's the problem with you unemployed people; you just don't work. At all." He sighed and shook his head sadly.

"All right, all right." Ironhide's eye twitched. "I think we're ready to go. Severance, did you have any questions about anything?"

Severance shook his head.

"Then let's go, please." Ironhide sounded almost eager to get back into the fight.

And for once, Severance agreed with that. He'd rather face flames and explosions than spend another second out here trying to forget that he'd just helped murder two people.