Berald wanted Daiya to accompany him into one of the inner chambers—he had something to discuss with her. He explained that it concerned Lord Möllnar's injury. Daiya hesitated, not wanting to leave Milo alone outside, but the man eventually allowed the young elf to join them.
"Just a few minutes, and then you can come right back," Berald assured them.
They moved quickly through the corridors until they reached Lord Möllnar's study, where Daiya had been before. This time, no one was sitting behind the desk, and aside from the sound of their own footsteps, the room was almost completely silent. There was one notable difference from her previous visit—someone had pushed aside the cabinet in the corner, revealing an open door that was normally hidden behind the furniture.
"This way," Berald gestured toward the door. Daiya was feeling increasingly uneasy, but she couldn't think of a reason why the old man would lie to her, so she followed. Milo walked behind her like a shadow.
They entered a narrow passageway that unmistakably led deep into the rocks beneath the fortress. They went deeper and deeper into the mountain, far beyond where any moonlight could reach. Only the torches fixed to the walls lit the way.
"Here we are," the old man finally stopped. They had reached a wider cavern, and Daiya immediately noticed they weren't alone. She had to strain her eyes to see clearly in the dim light, and once the scene fully came into focus, she didn't like what she saw at all.
Lord Möllnar was seated against one of the walls on a pile of furs and pelts, looking far older than the last time. It would not have been an exaggeration to say he had aged decades in a matter of days. His hands were veiny and frail, and his eyes locked onto Daiya's like a predator staring at its prey. Beside him, on the ground, lay a pile of reddish cloth scraps and a few dark, unidentifiable objects… that bore a striking resemblance to the remains of dark elves. On the opposite wall, as Daiya quickly noted, stood a row of oddly-shaped black logs, mid-carving.
"At last," groaned the lord. "At last, Berald, I thought you would never arrive."
"Oh, come now, you know your health is always my highest priority," Berald nodded. "I've brought the sacrifices."
Daiya snapped out of her stunned silence. "What sacrifices?!" she asked in alarm. "No one told me anything about this."
Lord Möllnar answered her, once again locking his gaze on the girl. Daiya noticed that Berald had suddenly reached for Milo and was holding him down—Milo, who was completely defenseless. For a split second, a flicker of shock seemed to pass across the man's face as he registered how cold the boy's body was—but he didn't let go.
"It's very simple. As you've probably heard, from time to time, we make offerings to Sylun. What you haven't heard is that our way is… different from others. Because while we still give the blood to the god, we do not let the bodies rot in the ground. Instead, let's say… we put them to better use. The bodies become one with me—and help sustain my vitality."
Daiya didn't understand what the lord was talking about. It made no sense. Why would they sacrifice Sylun's own priestess?
"Why would the god want the blood of his own followers?" she asked in disbelief. "I am a follower of Sylun too, and we also offer sacrifices as demanded. But we would never place one of our own on the altar. That's absurd!"
"Indeed," sighed Möllnar. "The problem is, we've long since run out of pagans in the area. I must say, they fought bravely—their final assault nearly destroyed my fortress. But as you see, their remnants scattered, and I was left to make do with my own. Until finally, no one remained."
The words echoed in Daiya's head. No one remained. She looked at the carved logs lined up against the cavern wall. There were both child-sized and adult-sized pieces among them.
"What kind of grandmaster are you?" she suddenly turned on Berald. "A grandmaster of what?"
"Smart girl," the addressed man grinned. This time, there was not a trace of kindness in his smile. "I suppose now I can tell you the truth. You see, I am the grandmaster of golem-making in the Grey Lands. And everyone you've seen in the fortress... they're all my creations."
Everything suddenly made so much sense. She had heard of golems in her village—man-shaped puppets created solely to obey their master's will. Golems could speak, but had no real desire to, and no soul. They couldn't have one. That was the eternal curse and insurmountable boundary of the craft. Daiya almost threw up as the image of Merrienn at the well flashed into her mind—her tilted head, that vacant gaze. The fact that the little girl would never want to play again… because she had been the last survivor of the fortress.
"Now, answer something for me before you end your life on Sylun's altar," Berald continued. "What's the deal with the boy? He doesn't act like someone who's alive. I'm a bit concerned we might not be able to sacrifice him."
"Ha!" Daiya snorted, because this—this last sentence—was almost laughable. "I can assure you Sylun will be far from pleased with either of our sacrifices. First of all, Milo is already dead," she stated firmly before they could attempt to kill her lover again. "You'll get nothing from him."
"Oh, really? And you're sure he's not a golem or some necromancer's spawn? He seems... surprisingly stable," Berald raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "He might even be useful to us. And since he's already dead, you won't mind if we destroy this shell, will you?"
He began pushing the boy toward Lord Möllnar, who, of course, wouldn't move on his own.
"Milo, stop!" Daiya cried out, and at her words the body began to resist, thrashing and struggling with sudden force.
But she noticed too late that Berald had a weapon. In a flash, the man drove a long knife with a wooden handle into Milo's chest. Daiya screamed in horror. Silver-tinged blood began to leak from the wound, and for a moment her mind caught on the strange color—it shouldn't look like that. But none of it mattered now. Milo's dead heart had been pierced, and like a damaged machine, his entire body began to lose its strength.
Daiya didn't know what happened when a dead person was killed again—and she didn't want to learn at the cost of Milo's future. The god had said his soul could be brought back. But would he still be willing if his first gift—the body—was destroyed?
"Stop!" she shrieked. "Stop!"