The constant trekking through the Frogmarch was starting to wear on Boophis’ mind, he was trying his best not to think about what happened earlier today. Gogunta had blessed them again with warm heavy rainfall, keeping the animals of the swamp away. No further tests of combat as well, this was for the best - he was not sure if his kin could survive another battle. This damnable hunt was nearly at an end, any hint of danger and they would simply hide till it was safe. In the hour it took them to get back, they were only spotted once. Stood atop a hill, overlooking a cluster of trees they passed through, a silhouette barely visible through the downpour. It was human, Boophis was sure of it, they were hunched over and carrying a staff, it descended the opposite end of the hill away from them after a few moments. Neither Boophis nor his siblings had any interest investigating, their journey was nearly over, with  just one more obstacle left to overcome…

‘One day!?’ Breviceps’s voice boomed across the tribe, shaking even the council, ‘you don’t allow the light to dim before bringing back filthy lies!’ 

The Priest King sat back down on his ziggurat, breathing out a sigh, allowing the air to kindle his rage. Boophis had prostrated himself, he could not dare speak against his father. This  was up to his siblings, who were squatting in front of the ziggurat.

‘It was Fallax and your Son, who claimed these kills, I claim nothing!’ Zimmeri pleaded, she had misstepped, again.

‘My Son?’ Breviceps hissed, ‘you are all of my children - as much shame that brings unto me now! you expect less disappointment?’ Breviceps voice rose, ‘you think I bring you shame, you reject not only Gogunta but your own bloody father!? One armed wretch!’

This was all too much, Boophis stared at his reflection in the moat’s water. He parted it with his hand to stop the rain rippling the mirror. His whole vision was red, and he struggled to gauge distance, between his eyes was a cross shaped scar, his cheek had a small cut deep enough to show off his front teeth, and his whole body was dotted with tiny tooth holes. A small droplet rippled the moat, was it rain, or was he still bleeding?

‘I miss-spoke, it’s not wh-’ 

Fallax hushed Zimmeri by putting his hand unto her shoulder, and stood, his calmness was surprising.

‘Your daughter is lying to you, she killed that one,’ Fallax pointed out a kill with clear axe marks. Boophis could not believe what he heard, he strained his neck round to look at his foolish brother.

‘Excuse you,’ his father’s rage was supplanted by confusion, ‘that one, it has suffered an axe wound, you’re complicating things.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Fallax bowed his head, ‘Zimmeri, present your weapon.’

Boophis could see the shock in his sister's face, she feebly reached into her belt, and pulled out Fallax’s spare axe. Breviceps was silent, and Fallax capitalised on this.

‘A juvenile hunting party was out there. We killed this lot at separate times, just happening to meet as we encountered the rest of them. Together, we fought them off, some got away. Afterwards we travelled back together, so as to not get ambushed, and to warn you.’

Yet again, silence, Boophis thought about what Fallax was saying, ‘no Boggard in their right mind would give another credit for their own kill, which means, to them, he must be telling the truth… and what’s more, this brings attention to…’

‘The heretics have found us.’ Ghost interrupted the silence, whilst leaning up next to Gogunta’s mural, ‘Is there anything else, child?’

‘Claw and Bull are dead, so is the Swamp Queen.’

Breviceps eyes flashed not with anger, but a new emotion, one Boophis had not seen in his father for a long time. 

‘...and what of this one?’ Breviceps pointed to what was left of Boophis’s kill.

‘I was hungry.’ Boophis squeaked out.

‘We will discuss this later, leave now.’

Boophis never once looked up, but even then he could feel Arum’s disdain.

The light of day had begun to die out, making way for the night, taking the most of the downpour with it. Boophis pondered what the council were discussing. Staring into the Eye did nothing to alleviate his anxiety, Zimmeri, Fallax and Himself were all on borrowed time, he was sure of it.

“Lirgen will fall, as we desperately cling to the old ways, we are fated to join her.” Boophis could only hear these words in his mind, there was so much for him to process, but no time to do it.

‘I know what you did.’

‘Arum…’ Boophis whispered, ‘it’s not…’

‘Shut it,’ the Scarred one stood behind Boophis, ‘no convincing a lie you spin could fool me you wretched spawnling, know why?’

Boophis did not respond, he had already accepted his fate.

‘If you fought nobly, like a Boggard, you would have died, because you are a weakling,’ Arum grabbed Boophis’s shoulder, ‘snakes must use deceit to survive, you breathing means one thing, don’t you agree?’

‘I… I am -’

‘Barely,’ Arum chuckled, ‘sounds like something got hold of your throat, having trouble inhaling? Here, let me help…’

‘Arum,’ Fallax’s voice shook Boophis out of his trance, ‘Ghost says he needs you for counsel.’

‘That fool needs my help?’ Arum taunted, ‘we really are in trouble.’

The Scarred One sauntered off, and Fallax took his place, sitting besides Boophis on the overhang. Fallax’s armour was beyond repair, shattered shells barely hanging on snapped leather straps, and the cuts on his body could rival Arum’s battle scars.

‘I brought you some leftover heretic flesh,’ Fallax tried to hand Boophis a piece of one of his two kills, but the Priest declined, pushing Fallax’s arm aside, ‘you may not like Boggard flesh brother, but you should still eat something.’ Fallax gulped down the meal.

Boophis’s brother still looked gaunt and sallow, his muscles toned down to looking more slender than he had ever seen him. Boophis wondered if Fallax knew that he caused the muscle degeneration.

‘You saved me, for that I thank you,’ Fallax stared into the drizzling night instead of the Eye.

‘Me, really, save you?’ Boophis felt as though he was watching himself have this conversation, struggling to tell whether he was having a spiritual experience, or a psychotic episode.

'Yes, well,’ Fallax put his hand on Brother's shoulder, ‘perhaps you didn't do it for me, perhaps you wanted to help her.'

‘And why would I want to help Zimmeri?’ Boophis scowled, brushing off his brother’s arm.

'Hmph, you know that’s not what I meant,' Fallax grinned.

‘Oh, Fallax, I thought only demons could speak in tongues.’

'Well, maybe you ought to use your little red stone to understand me better.'

‘Okay, comprehend this;’ Boophis felt his soul return to his body, helped there by a surge of righteous fury, ‘you have dragged me into a lie, told to Breviceps, the mightiest Boggard alive, and the closest to our Mother’s grace. By the Abyss, if Banana and Mute never return, I am half expecting Arum to say we killed them. If we are executed, it will be your fault, I have no reason to be grateful to you.’

‘I don’t remember asking for gratitude,’ Fallax said, in a calm voice, with levity, infuriating Boophis, ‘all that matters is what the Mother thinks, if she knows your innocence, then your father should know it too. Unless you doubt him?’

‘Fallax, if I killed you no one would miss you.’

‘You haven’t though.’

‘I saw it.’

Fallax fell silent.

‘The dark fire, that necrotic energy, I cannot live knowing my life is owed in part to heretical sorcery. You stole magic, you should be grateful I have too much on my mind to scream it from the highest mud hut. Do me a favour, piss off.’

It was the last time his brother followed instruction, without question.

Boophis was unsure if he meant anything he said to Fallax, he was not sure of anything at this point. The reddened Eye of Abendego faded from vision as the clouds overtook the moon. 

Why did we need to do this?