We’d made headway over the past few weeks, saved a few souls from the disease that ran rampant. I cringed to think of those that still remained above us, lingering in the darkness, dying in vain. My daughter stood among those infected, somehow I knew that at the very least she still drew breath—and we would see each other again. Fina chirped mildly, but with compassion to understand such grief. “She’ll come home.” My sigh was her unspoken response, the mind link between us heard, “Yar, I know.” With how many of our kin in tow? Who else would I have to wrap up in chains and drag to the bottom of this pit?

The rotten smell of the infected seemed to invade us at random times, I hadn’t begun to notice that in this instance the strength of it wasn’t some ghostly ambition brought about by some active imagination. My companion hissed hatefully, her eyes peering toward the slopping entrance of our temporary home and feathers rising defensively. “What is it?” my voice broke apart and I was stunned into silence. Golden gaze widening before drawing tightly together as the reality of this intrusion struck home. A shadow emerged from the stony hall, his breath a rasp, heaving with death on each exhale.

“To arms!” I roared, fire flaring toward life around shoulders and armored neck. Mane licked with harmless flames that seemed to spring alive when emotions ran high. Again my steel and golden mask was called into action, each slivery plate slide forth and coated the most vulnerable parts of flesh. Stone clanked loudly beneath as I sprang from the shadows a beast with one keen purpose in life. Defend those that yet drew breath. Fina took to the air, ready to support me if the need arose.

They’d never made it past the entrance before, I couldn’t understand why this one would be able to soar past our defenses. My chains were outside and it would take them longer than a few moments to arise from their hidden position in the ground. “To me demon, look to me!” I shouted readily, knowing that their attention was easily drawn away from prey when more tempting delicacies arose.

There was only heartbeats between us; if a demon’s heart even beat within that half rotted breast. Even when I felt a soldier drift up behind me, my gaze never left our opponents frame. One dark ear met Hector’s single word acknowledgement—it didn’t take but a moment for my senses to register who stood at the rear and feel right in knowing that my spine was well covered. My heavy mass of alabaster silk flicked right, a wordless response to his position and a soundless method for me to cue a friend in as I traced forward and to the left with careful steps. “Go right,” I flicked again just out of affirmation, and twitched my right ear toward his solid amber frame. Both ears slipped back against skull half a step later, clapping hard against the mess of mane below, “Be wary.” A fact that neither of us needed to know; lord only knew what tricks this beast was capable of. Obviously we weren’t as protected in this hovel as previously thought. How had this creature slipped past so easily?

Our ghoul speaks, words that register as weak—or perhaps strangled. I pause, gapping, staring at him. My mouth slips apart further and for a full second nothing but air crosses through. My shock is evident because I’d yet to hear these infected souls speak with any sort of logic that didn’t include blood and death. In that moment I realize who the wraith standing before us is, “Satanic Silk.” Words that drift out in more of a whisper meant for nobody. Surprise fades into a faint hum and I drift my skull lower from its regal position, regarding him plainly instead of offensively, “Be still…be easy brother and hold fast. Your life need not end today. We have a cure.”

Was it too late to reach him?

Chains shook off the last of their dirt from yon entrance, they start a slow descend into the pit. Quietly and cautiously creeping up from behind in the darkness, should things turn sour (which was likely) I’d be forced to use them. Muzzle extends to its full reach, a pained warning flares within me to turn aside. Chain him and have conversation later it screams-- but I can’t shake the notion that if he could fight this evil without violence. A child of the desert was strong, no matter the length of time they’d spent in our homeland. Maybe there were others who could do the same. Though, it was more likely this foolish hope is to be dashed, “If ye can fight just a little longer.” Encouragement, perhaps falsely placed, “Let’s go to the water together.”

I stood in a cross of wanting to help in a painless way but also knowing full well that this situation could turn sour instead of just bitter—but didn’t we already have the higher ground? What was there left to fear from this poor soul, my eyes momentarily flicker to Hectors, searching for a hint that would incline what raced behind his skull. Those broad shoulders and stern eyes seemed undaunted from their task, even by sudden appearance of a soul within our kinsman.

This might just as well be a trick to lull us into dropping our guard, and it would be best to play on the safe end of such thinking. Though it should be fairly noted that this was somehow different from the usual visits we’d had from previous wraiths. The leather winged stallion, absent his former glory collapsed upon himself, and instinctively I brushed a step forward as if to aid. My body froze, shocked by the handling of emotion that coursed through veins and into my blood. “Silk.” I said softly, gentler. To rush toward him in offering, would be like me sticking my manly self into the jaws of a beast, praying they didn’t snap shut before striking home, “Forgive the pain I cause.”

My chains dropped from their levitating position above when he fell and rose for the second time. Their movement not so much with a purpose of entrapping (should our dark brother remain still), but more so for offering support—though despite my intentions, this ride wasn’t going to be a pleasant or painless one. Those links had been fashioned with the purpose of ensnaring a thrashing beast, and there was nothing to be done to make them more comfortable.“Just be still and let me do the work.” We had to move quickly, by his weakened state I wasn’t sure that our indoor wraith was going to last much longer.

Our little trip down the fountain path was in all seriousness event-less when compared to the screaming creatures that had descended into this pit before him. Silk seemed surprisingly capable in offering enough control to remain mostly still, (aside from the first few moments of thrashing). The edge of his salvation is close, all that remained was a threshold to pass over. Chains rose, holding him strongly enough to carry the weak wraith up and over. Water splashed, brimming the dip and rushing across the bottoms of my feet, covering the smooth stone and glimmering faintly in the patched crystal glow.

Gently, I lowered him into the pool. The water would finish our work, heal the broken and restore what the darkness had ravaged. It was a relief to see yet another be rid of this illness; in truth I was tired of the smell of fever and white pus. “He is different from the others…perhaps the disease is weakening?” ornamental crown craned toward Hector, eyes curiously searching his gaze to share findings in all this. None of the others had shown any remorse for their actions, nor control for whom they targeted.

The game changed if the illness could somehow be fought from the inside, just a moment of hesitation on the wraiths part would give us higher ground. “Does ye think those still infected could also be somewhat themselves?” Maybe that meant my daughter would return with a semi clear mind? It was almost too risky for hope.