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We took one of the tunnels that hadn't been traveled by Borealis' party, L'teya or us. By process of elimination, that left about four other tunnels. Without Jourgan's talents as a Wayfinder, it was hard to choose. Eventually, I had Freier choose.

"Me?" She sat on the floor, her hands folded on her lap. Except for the all-black priestess dress and the veil over her face, she could have been at a picnic.

"Yes." I answered without looking at her, careening forward to try and get a hit with my [Hear] stat. Nothing.

"Why me?"

"...Just choose."

Freier didn't question me for a while. She spoke up. "Are you hoping for guidance from the Nine?"

I said nothing because she hit it pretty much on the head.

I was desperate. Really desperate. And my history with the gods were similar enough that I'd risk it. One wanted to use me, through manipulation and threats. The other had something of a debt to me, and had a sort of warrior's bond. The Nine… well, I'd have to see.

Now was the perfect time to test it out, when I had no other lead to go on. I gestured at her to hurry up.

"Then I feel compelled to tell you that the Nine is a cruel mistress. Even I, as her follower, would never dare–"

"Slaveborn, why did you save me?"

L'teya's question came out of nowhere, hitting me in the gut like a left hook.

In the entire five minutes we'd spent trying to decide which tunnel to choose, –five minutes of wasted time that I could have spent looking for my party members– the red-haired elf barbarian didn't speak at all. She just stood against the wall, all quiet and broody. Which was fine with me. This was meticulous work, for someone with advanced [Smell], [Hearing] or even [Luck] stats. To my knowledge, I didn't think L'teya had any of those.

And the first thing she wanted to know was this.

Why did I save her?

There was no other way about it. I did.

Why did I?

I myself didn't exactly know why.

Suddenly, the elf held up both her hands in an apologetic gesture, shaking them.

"Ah, I didn't mean to distract you. Forget what I said, Slaveborn, and get back to what you were doing!" She said, finishing with a pained grin.

…Exactly since when did L'teya begin acting like this? Apologetic? Reading the mood in the room and trying to appease others?

Since when did she become so…

So small?

Now wasn't the time.

I turned to Freier. "You want to finish?"

Freier's expression was hidden underneath the veil. But her face was tilted towards L'teya. The veil finally turned towards me and nodded. "I chose randomly. There was nothing… holy, about this choice. Are you fine with that?"

I nodded.

Footsteps told me Kyrian had appeared behind me.

"What were you doing?" I asked.

He didn't say anything but I did see him tweak the [Dimension Ring] on his finger. "Nothing important."

Looking around the large cavernous space, it wasn't hard to see what he'd been up to. All the bodies were gone. Without commenting, I turned to Freier.

"Choose."

Freier stood up and walked towards a tunnel. "This one."

I walked over, trying to hear something. Again, nothing. But I was set and was itching to be on the move again.

"L'teya, you're up front. Freier, then Kyrian. I'll bring up the rear."

One more, I gave the most dangerous spot to the most expendable person: L'teya. And of course, I took the other most dangerous position: the rear. But this way, Kyrian would stay safe and the precious healer I procured would be well-guarded as well. Plus, Kyrian and I were in a position to keep an eye on Freier.

L'teya obeyed without question and Freier knew the drill as well. We delved into the undergrowth, which was more dirt than rock this time. Unbroken tree roots, whole mushrooms and the occasional worm crawling on the floor told me that this road was untraveled by others.

The tunnel-like structure eventually opened up into a full underground path, spiraling upwards. I knew that we'd made the right choice.

"We're heading up, not down." L'teya said, her voice a whisper.

I nodded, though she couldn't see. "Did you see the spire in the middle of the island?"

She nodded in turn.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

"My guess is that the whole island is some kind of underground labyrinth." I explained for everyone's benefit. "Multiple entrances, multiple exits. Meant to lead people away from the Spire in the middle. I'd bet good coin that only by transversing the labyrinth like we are doing now, can you find a way to get to the top of the Spire."

"The Spire was huge." Kyrian muttered, "It was the size of a mountain."

"Of course." Freier commented, "It is a Temple."

"Temple?" L'teya stopped walking and Freier almost bumped into her.

"Yes. Isn't it quite obvious?" Freier gently nudged the larger elf woman's back, as a mother might a child. "I knew at first glance that it was a temple." Then with a subtle look directed at me, "A temple for the [Autarch]."

Of course, a [Player] would know about the [Autarch].

But for Kyrian and L'teya's benefit, I explained further.

"The [Autarch]. The legendary hero of the orcs, and one of the six." I said, "He was the only one who united the three hordes; Samak, Bada and Uleum. It's his artifact we're looking for."

Kyrian frowned, "But I thought this artifact belonged to the Church."

"Strictly speaking, it does belong to your godless Church." Freier said casually, "After all, the Autarch was raised by humans."

I caught her eye, or as best as I could behind that veil.

Two orbs, gleaming with secrecy; like two lovers sharing a secret.

The young mage let out a sharp breath. "What?"

"Raised by the Church." She repeated.

"That's… that's ridiculous."

"It delights me in how your so-called church has succeeded in pulling the wool over alll its sheep's eyes. Breeding them, telling them what to think, what to teach." Freier's smile could be heard through her words, "Telling them exactly what to believe, who to hate, who to love."

Sometimes it's hard to imagine Kyrian as a member of Turina. In his free time, the blonde mage could be found poring over his books, studying a spell or dissecting an old magical theory. It was easy to imagine him in his student years; diligent, honest and hardworking. I imagined that if he didn't want to go into the adventurer life, he would have found moderate success as a scholar mage.

And that was precisely why Turina, in my opinion, was so dangerous.

Brainwashed people don't appear brainwashed. Brainwashing shows up only at specific times, very specific times, with specific conditions and triggers. And I'm not talking about brainwashing them into being a thoughtless robot.

Exactly like how Freier was implying…

From a very young age, we're taught to think a certain way, to believe certain things and to never question the facts of this world that are presented to us.

And when 90% of the time, when we're challenged on it…

We get angry.

Don't believe me?

Go to school. Pick any religious foreign exchange student. Not even. Choose anyone who's not from a democratic country. Ask them things. Challenge them.

Interview them on their views before and after seeing the rest of the world.

It might surprise you.

And that was exactly how I felt seeing Kyrian sometimes. His reactions when we first met the dwarves, plus his reaction to Freier's veiled stories. It was easy to tell how sheltered he was and just how young he was.

Back on most parts of the earth, he was barely old enough to drink.

That's not to take credit away from Kyrian. He was trying to change. It's just…

What Freier was suggesting was preposterous.

Even I had a tough time believing in it.

Why?

Information on the Six Heroes were limited back in the game version of MSS.

Whatever Freier was spouting off now… it wasn't any part of the game that I'd encountered.

Or it hadn't been in the game at all.

The [Autarch]? Raised by the Church? That made no sense. The [Autarch] was in an underground dungeon, nowhere near the Turina Empire. If anything they–

"Turinans are a funny breed of people. For all the hate that they preach about being the superior race," He finished, "They can't help but be attracted to what's forbidden. And everyone, everyone, turns a blind eye to it. Even the Church."

…Jared's words. Not mine.

I stopped.

"Ok, we're stopping right here." I said. "Five minute break."

Freier stopped goading Kyrian, leaning againt the wall and not caring that her velvety dress got stained with dirt. Like the barbarian she was, L'teya chose to sit down on the floor with her legs crossed. She found something interesting on the ground to look at. Either that, or she was avoiding my gaze. Kyrian remained standing.

"I think we need to get something straight." I pointed at Freier, "You. Are a prisoner." Then at L'teya. "You are also a prisoner."

The priestess didn't answer, but the barbarian did. "Is that what I am, Slaveborn?"

L'teya lifted her head a fraction of an inch and I purposefully forced down the pulse of emotion that threatened itself up to my throat, at the sheer comfort her voice displayed at the word 'Prisoner'.

"...Yes." I said quietly.

L'teya stared at the ground for a second and took a deep breath. As she exhaled, all the nervousness melted away from her and I thought I saw something resembling comfort. Or resignation. One of the two. I couldn't tell. Regardless, all the tension had drained out of her shoulders.

"That makes me feel better." L'teya answered in the same voice as before.

I saw Freier look back and forth between us, obviously curious what that whole exchange had been about. But now was neither the time, nor situation, nor was she the person that I wanted to divulge my past relationship with L'teya to.

"I have one goal right now. A single goal." I snarled, "Screw the Autarch's Key. That's secondary. Aurora Vetilian. Stole. Skaris Deepeater. Doror. Zenom Saintred. You all know them."

The two elves nodded.

"That's my goal." I pointed at the priestess agian, my words terse and clipped, "You are alive on the off chance that they are injured. That's your singular purpose. Do you understand your role??"

I let the question linger.

"...And if I do not?" There was a playful edge to the words.

And I took a step closer.

All I did was take a step. Just one.

And I stayed there.

"We've traveled together for a total of half a day. Maybe." My words were quieter than I remembered, seeping into the densely packed dirt all around us. "Do not mistake my choice in the chamber before as my stance towards you. If I had half a choice, if Borealis' and them had even given half a hint that one of them received a healer skill in this dungeon, it'd be your body growing cold in Kyrian's [Dimension Ring]. Not his."

The anger, the self-loathing, the pain came rushing back from the deep dark place I'd stuffed them in before they were ever allowed to breathe the air of MSS.

"You are not worth the fucking dirt that Borealis spat on, not worth the toilet paper he wiped his fucking ass with. That's what you are to me, a fucking cheap, onetime-use, potion that I'm ready to discard at the moment's notice that you're useless to me or dragging me down." I took another step and the Priestess' veil rose up to meet my eyes. "Do not play games with me, do not speak back to me, do not antagonize the others in the hopes that their beliefs waver at a crucial moment. Because I assure you, I will not hesitate to cut off your arms and legs, carrying you like a fucking elementary schooler's backpack to use as a healing doll until the rest of this expedition and throw you in the ocean for the crabs to tear into you."

"Do not think for a fucking second that I forgot who you are, what you are, and whose party you were a part of." I had to stop to take a breath, suppressing the emotions that threatened to surge to the surface, to force me to draw my sword and just cut, and cut, and cut, and cut, and cut--

I let out the breath I'd been holding. "I'll ask again. Do you understand what your role is?"

She held the stare.

Then she broke it off.

"...I'm sorry, Slaveborn. I'd forgotten."

I turned away, just as the priestess hugged herself and her shoulders started to quiver.

It didn't make me feel better.

But I'd be lying if it didn't feel good to stab the metaphorical knife in her gut and twist it.

Sometimes, you want to hurt yourself.

But the next best thing is doing it to someone else.

"Enough rest. We move."

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