They walked wearily through the forest. Overhead, the moon shone with chilling light; the moon had grown even brighter and now its silvery glow lit up the sky. A fine mist had fallen, and the terrain they were advancing on was bleak and wild. Rocks rose from the peat like the eruption of a plague breaking out on the world's skin.

Sometimes Elysia thought she heard the flapping of huge wings above them, but when she looked up she saw only the glow of the sky. The fog spread and distorted the surroundings in such a way that it seemed that both of them were walking on the bottom of an unearthly sea.

“I have a bad feeling about this place.” Elysia thought. The air tasted foul, and the fur on her tail was constantly standing on end. Once, when she was a child, on the estate of her owners, she had sat and watched the sky turn black with menacing clouds. Then the most monstrous storm she could remember had come. She then experienced the same expectant feeling, and she knew that powerful forces were gathering nearby. She felt like an insect crawling through the body of a giant that could wake up at any moment and crush her.

It even seemed like Frey felt oppressed as well, as he kept quiet and didn't mutter to himself like he used to. From time to time he would stop and gesture to Elysia not to make a noise; then she would order him to sniff the air for anything that might be hiding nearby.

Elysia could see how her mate's body tensed as if her every nerve was straining to pick up the slightest trace of something, once she discerned that there was nothing they went back into motion.

All of Elysia's muscles were stiff with tension, and she regretted accompanying Frey. “Surely my obligation to the dark hero does not include that I must face certain death. Maybe I can sneak into the mist.”

She clenched her teeth. She prided herself on being an honorable woman, and her debt to Frey was real because Frey had risked his own life to save her. It was true that back then she did not know that Frey sought great adventures and defeat powerful enemies, that he courted death like a man courts a desirable lady.

How could I imagine, Elysia thought, that it would lead me to this: to hunt demons summoned by a cult of some terrible dark god! She smiled wryly. It was easy to sing of brave deeds in the taverns and gambling halls, where horror was conjured up by the words of skilled bards. Out there, however, everything changed. She felt her intestines loosen with fear, and her oppressive atmosphere made her want to run and scream in terror.

"Despite everything" Elysia tried to console herself. “This is suitable material for a novel. If I survive, maybe I should start writing a novel."

♦ ♦ ♦

The forest grew deeper and tangled. The trees seemed contorted and frightening beings, and Elysia had the feeling that she was being watched. Though she tried to ward off the thought of her by telling herself it was all her fantasies, the mist and ghostly moonlight only stimulated her imagination. She was under the impression that each shadowed area harbored a monster.

Elysia looked up at the dark hero, and she saw a mixture of anticipation and fear on his face. She had believed that he was immune to terror, but then she realized that he was not, but a fierce will was dragging Frey towards death. Sensing that her own end might be near her, Elysia dared to ask a question that she had long wanted to ask.

“Lord Frey, what did you do that you are now incessantly seeking death? What crimes prompt you to punish yourself in this way? "

Frey looked down at Elysia, and then looked away from her to the depths of the night. During the movement, Frey's corpulent body stiffened and became rigid.

“If another person had asked me that same question as if I were trying to seek forgiveness for some crime, I would have killed him. I forgive you for your youth and ignorance, and for the mating rite we have undergone; if I killed you, I would become the murderer of another family member... That crime you are asking me about does not exist. I do not seek forgiveness from anyone, nor do I try to spy on any sin. My only goal is to face worthy opponents, gain fame, glory and recognition, and maybe maybe die in a glorious way. That is the mission I have in this world.”

Until that moment, Elysia had not been aware of how close she was with Frey.

Frey gazed at the catgirl as if he was waiting for an answer.

"I understand". she told him.

“Do you understand, cat girl? Do you really understand?" The dark hero's voice was as harsh as splitting stones.

Elysia smiled sadly at him, as she suddenly glimpsed the abyss that separated her from Frey. She would never understand the strange taboos that Frey was a practitioner of; her obsession with oaths, order and pride. She couldn't understand what drove the dark hero to carry out a self-imposed death sentence.

Was it the difference between someone normal and a Hero?

“You are too hard and demanding on yourself.” Elysia said.

"And you are too soft." Frei replied.

They fell silent, and both were startled by insane laughter. Elysia turned as she quickly drew her sword to put herself on guard. Frey raised his greatsword holding the hilt with both hands.

Something shuffled out of the mist. Elysia thought that once that figure had been a man. The silhouette was still that of a human, but it seemed, by the result, that a mad god had held the creature near a demonic fire so that the flesh would melt and thus be molded into a disgusting new form.

"Tonight we are going to dance." the silhouette said, in a high-pitched voice that contained not a shred of sanity. "Let's dance and touch each other."

Gently, he reached out a hand to Elysia and touched her arm. Elysia quickly recoiled in horror as those maggot-like fingers reached for her face.

"Tonight, where the stones, we will dance, we will touch, we will rub and enjoy our bodies." He made a move to go and try to hug Elysia at the same time that her smile revealed pointy teeth. The catgirl remained still and silent; she felt like a spectator, distanced from what was happening.

She then she stepped back and rested the tip of her sword against the thing's chest. "Don't come any closer," she warned him.

The figure smiled, and her mouth seemed to grow larger, revealing yet more small pointed teeth. Her lips drew back until the lower half of her face seemed entirely made up of glistening wet gums, and her lower jaw lowered even further than a snake's. Then she leaned on the sword and drops of blood glistened on her chest; she then uttered a stupid, gurgling laugh.

"Dance, and touch, and rub, and eat." he said, and with inhuman swiftness he twisted to avoid the blade and leapt at Elysia.

Although the movement was very fast, Frey was even faster, and in mid-jump the greatsword Lævateinn caught the thing's neck. The head rolled away into the night, and a red fountain began to pour from the severed neck.

"This is not happening." Elysia thought.

"What was that? A demon?" Elysia wanted to know.

“I think he was once a man,” Frey replied. “One of those corrupted by the powers of the dark gods. They are abandoned as soon as they are born.”

"That he spoke common, spoke the human language."

“Sometimes corruption doesn't show up until they're older. The family thinks they are sick and protects them, until they go into the woods and disappear. Unlike boons that manifest as special abilities, corruption is something that affects the body physically.”

Elysia gulped as she tried to calm her nervousness. “Blessings that grant special abilities, unique abilities, or outstanding talents; they are said to be manifestations of the protective gods on the material plane. They say the same about corruption, listen that they are physical manifestations of the power of the dark gods. Do familiars protect such abominations?”

"Sometimes it happens. People don't talk about it. It's hard to turn your back on the people you love, even when they've changed." Frey fixed her with a serious look, and then shook his head at her. "As I said. Too soft.”

"There are fates worse than death." Elysia whispered.

"Yes, there are several, some are worse than others. In some cases, dying is the most merciful thing that can happen" Frei added. "If one day I ask you to kill me, kill me without hesitation; I'd rather die than have to endure a miserable existence".