Loss

We used a hidden cellar door to gain entry to the manor while Zecht caused a distraction. I think we made it inside unnoticed. From there, we had several tasks ahead of us. We sent Alistair to look for the poison antidotes in the vault, Clare to search the dungeon for Gambit and Osiris’s master. Osiris and I ascended to the top of one of the towers, which was where Winfrey was being held.

When we arrived topside, we were met with an unpleasant surprise. We opened the door, and were met with the sight of a young blond woman tied to a chair. She was wearing Winfrey’s clothing. As I entered the room, she looked up frantically and shouted “It’s a trap!”

Then the room exploded. Osiris and I weren’t hit too hard, but we were tossed out of the crumbling tower and onto the roof of the manor. A shred of her cloak trailed down to me. I caught it and held it close, fearing the worst.

And then Varsuviux appeared. He came to taunt me for my loss, and reclaim his phylactery. As we were talking, Clare and Alistair scaled the walls and joined us on the roof. A battle had begun all around us, led by Zecht and Gilder and a crew of pirates. It was a clear night, perfect for a showdown.

I told Varsuviux that we would have a fair duel. If he won, we’d give him the phylactery. If we won, he’d give us our poison antidotes. He declined, and instead threw the antidotes off the roof, where they shattered on the ground. I feigned defeat, and handed him the phylactery, knowing that I could not win this fight.

He saw through my ruse, however, and refused to use it, fearing some sort of trap. At that moment, I felt a blade poke into my back. Without turning around, I knew it was his most loyal servant, that woman in the gray cowl. In a moment, Alistair was behind her, with a dagger to her throat. We talked a little, and then Alistair ended the meaningless Mexican standoff by plunging a blade into her neck. She crumpled, and her cowl fell off. It was Winfrey. Or what was left of Winfrey

Gone was her innocent expression, her sense of wonder at the world. Her mind and soul had already been ensnared by Varsuviux, and he was simply using her as a puppet. I watched as her body vanished before my eyes, undoubtedly returning to the hands of whatever demon possessed her soul.

I charged Varsuviux, but he laughed and blinked away, swearing that we would meet our end soon. With him gone, I took out the shred of Winfrey’s cloak, and began to weep.

—Wilward Jones

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