Loxelis and Cavtil stood among the black standing stones. None truly knew who built the accursed place, but the legends were clear on one thing: it was a place where the most desperate came to swear oaths that not even death could break.

“They say that the magic is stronger now than it was long ago. All those poor fools who came here and tapped into the power here; it broke the barriers between worlds more and more. Are you sure, son?” gray-bearded Loxelis said.

“There is no choice,” Cavtil the scar-faced youth replied. The older one nodded.

“What you swear here will be done, and only the gods may prevent it. If the spirits of the stones find you too weak, they will change you, transform you, in ways that will allow you to fulfill your promise. You might not like what you will become,” Loxelis said urgently. The youth said nothing. Instead he kneeled before the towering obsidian block.

“Spirits, hear me! I swear by my life that I will kill the pirate king Ongolisus, defiler of all that is good and holy! I give myself to you, heart and soul!” Cavtil bellowed. A whispering was in the air, as if of a thousand angry voices. Suddenly he was yanked into the air and floated. He screamed as his flesh was molded like clay. Soon, a monster lay there: an amalgamation of man and fish. Loxelis understood: the pirate would be in water when the oath struck. The spirits would guide the poor boy to that place, and his new form would allow him to destroy his nemesis. The youth’s body was covered in slippery, light gray skin. Cavtil’s head was a thing of nightmares, a twisted maw full of shark teeth under black soulless eyes. He was incapable of human speech now.

“I will bring you to the sea,” Loxelis said sadly.