The fog faded away, revealing Amira as the sole living thing surrounded by a sea of death. Niklas's skin was sickly and pale from blood loss. Torn and bloodstained leather and rags obscured his torn stomach. Blood contained to ooze out from the wound, the pace of which was beginning to slow, though that no longer mattered. 

With a heavy sigh, Amira rose to her feet. With the fog gone, Marc's corpse was finally visible, slumped against the base of a tree. The sword once embedded in the Wraith's knee now sat embedded in his heart. He died trying to save all of them; instead, he died in a mockery of himself, at least that's how Amira saw it.

I got to get going before it gets dark. Once I'm done with Rastofer, I'll bury them. They shouldn't just sit and rot out here. Amira grabbed the Wraith's marked skull to bring as proof of what happened. With one hand on a horn, she pulled her sword out from the head with little effort. It would've been a triumphant trophy of a successful job on a better day. This, however, was just a necessary reminder of a disaster with only one survivor. 

Tree branches swayed as a late afternoon breeze drifted through the liberated woodland. Leaves blew gently in the wind as if they had been brought back to life. Amid the noise of the empty forest, a strange, out-of-place creaking rang out from behind her. She turned to face the noise and was somewhat startled by what she saw. Quietly nestled among the trees was an old mansion, a small slice of civilization isolated from the rest of the world now being eaten away by nature. Moss covered much of the remains of the stone walls and leaf-covered paths leading to the house's entrance. The wooden door, carved with intricate designs loosely hung within its frame, slowly faded and rotting away on its hinges. Amira could make out another body lying out in the yard with their limbs splayed out wildly as if they were tossed aside. She couldn't make out every detail from this distance, though she could see that they wore a long, black coat, far too clean and fancy for a woodsman. 

As Amira got closer to the house, an antler came into her view, poking out from under a small pile of leaves. Once she pushed the leaves aside, a deer's skull was fully displayed for her. It hadn't been marked yet like the Wraith's had, though its proximity to the corpse had her thinking.

Looking at the corpse, she could see his leather satchel wrapped over his left shoulder and resting near his right hip. On its face was a sewn-on symbol of a triangle pointed downwards with a line running through its center, encased within a thin circle.

He must've been a mage from Sucherstatt. Must be the one who summoned the Wraith here. Looks like he tried to summon a second one, and that's when it must've been when it killed him. Can't say I feel sorry for him. He brought this upon himself.

With the skull in hand, Amira made her way back to Norbios, letting the Wraith's killing field resume its haunting silence.

Amira had only the faintest idea of which way to get back to Norbios, traveling in a direction she thought was the way they came. The serene stream they had crossed once before, which felt disconnected from its surroundings, was her first landmark. Her only other would be a familiar corpse.

Gauthier's corpse lay in the open. The blood from his wound stained his neck and the fallen leaves. She took one long look at the errant's lifeless body and wondered: was she alive because of luck, skill, or simply because the others were easier victims? She looked down at the broken skull in her hand and saw the visage of a monster she had defeated solely because it chose to kill Niklas at the moment instead of her. There was no triumph, only a sacrifice.

With another heavy sigh, she marched forward. The sky had cleared up, revealing the oncoming night and the orange glow of the brilliant sunset. As the forest was becoming darker, the shape of a house sitting at the edge of the forest peered out from behind the trees. She crossed the tree line and expected to escape the oppressive air of the Wraith's former home; instead, she was met with an empty house and Paulette's lifeless body. Punishment for a promise, it seemed. Now wasn't the time to dwell on such things.

Amira continued to march down the lone road leading to Norbois. She stopped carrying the skull properly and let it drag along the ground, leaving a long carved trail along the path. It wasn't that it was particularly heavy, more that there was a certain level of disrespect in doing it. Why give any dignity to what remained of the Wraith?

Norbois silently welcomed her back, with thongs of workers watching her from a distance to act as her audience. Spatters of blood and dirt stained her studded armor, and the skull she carried was coated with old and fresh stains and unknown arcane marks. There was no need to announce what had happened; the scene spoke for itself. 

Rastofer's manor sat above its old and worn contemporaries with a simple but lavish design. Every other building could collapse in on itself to little concern to the baron, for only his manor mattered. Stationed at the front entrance to the mansion was a young boy wearing cheap leather with a face covered in acne. Amira remembered him from the last time she was there.

"Where are the others?" He asked nervously. 

"They didn't make it," Amira answered. "Is Rastofer here?"

"He should be in his study. I'll let him know you're coming." He said.

"No need for that," Amira replied.

"If you say so." He looked down at the skull. "What's the skull for?"

"This is what caused the fog and killed those people. At least what's left of it." Amira answered while the young man escorted her through the entrance to the manor.

"What was it?" He asked.

"Something you're better off not running into," Amira said as she marched through the manor halls.

"He should be in his study." He called out to her. She didn't give him a response.

The skull dragged and scratched the baron's wooden floors with its horn. The bare, featureless walls somewhat reminded her of the shrouded forest. A repetitive, lifeless environment perfectly suited for the likes of Wraiths and insecure barons. 

Amira forced open the doors to the baron's study, launching the plain double doors into the walls. Rastofer jumped up from his seat and flung his quill at the other side of the room.

"What do you think you're doing? I specifically told you to report to my guards to get your payment sorted out to avoid this!" Rastofer shouted. 

"Where are the others? Did they send you up to talk to me?" He asked while scanning the room for the other sellswords.

"I'm the only one that made it out alive," Amira replied with a steady tone. Rastofer paused for a second, carefully planning out his following words.

"I... I see. That's unfortunate. Hopefully, they didn't die in vain. Has the fog been lifted?" He asked.

"It has. This is what caused it." Amira tossed the bull skull onto his desk. As it landed, the skull made a distinct thud, shaking the table slightly.

"What is this? I can't believe I'm asking this but is it some kind of demon?" Rastofer asked. Amira was caught off guard by his uncharacteristic willingness to listen to her.

"A Wraith. A mage summoned it weeks ago." Amira answered.

"Tell me you dealt with whatever bastard brought that thing here. Can't let them make me shut production again." Rastofer asked.

"Wraith already did that for us. That shouldn't be a problem," Amira said. 

"Good, good. Well, let's to why you're here. Since you're the only one that made it back, I think it's fair that I add a little extra to the original five hundred Marks I promised." Rastofer reached into his desk and began pulling out pouches filled to the brim with coins. "How does one thousand sound? Double what we agreed upon."

"I'll take it." Amira quickly answered. There was no point in haggling tonight. She took the two hefty pouches of coins and began to leave.

"Before you go. Thank you, you did good work out there. I'm sorry it didn't go as smoothly as we had hoped." Rastofer said. 

Amira only gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment before marching back out the door. Her plan was simple: bury the bodies of Niklas and everyone else, then leave this shithole behind.