《Age of Legends》


 Prologue and Chapter One

    Prologue


    Night of the Fracturing


    Their blades collided in a ferocious waltz, clanging in timed harmony with the flaring of their rage. Not more than a second seemed to pass without a spark illuminating the desolate landscape, once so lively and colorful. Consumed now only by the grey of ash and stark crimson of blood.


    Of the innocent and guilty. Of the children and elderly. Blood so fresh that it clung to their feet; so thick and stiff it was as if the dead were trying to drag them down to hell itself as payment for their transgressions. Even so, as their world burned around them, as their lovers and families faded away to rot and misfortune, they fought on.


    Effortlessly, she spun, bounded, and leaped off of the dilapidated, soot-covered fixture of a once extravagant home in an attempt to dart towards thicker shadows; flawlessly he glided to intercept her path, holding on to what little time he had left here with her. By all accounts, he had loved her as well as he could and was none too keen to let their time together end before was necessary.


    Through her teeming rage, she too was able to feel the remnants of much happier times between them, flicking through her memories with each collision. Clinging to relentless love and compassion, they fought on.


    Night would soon begin to give way to a faint lavender luminescence creeping over the horizon, marking the end he had loathingly fled for far too long. There was little doubt in his eyes that she would mark him irredeemable after they parted this last time as he could feel murderous intent radiating from her core.


    The young woman held her pristine curved blade outwards, reflecting the light of a new day down its length, and lunged forth with all of her might towards his hooded visage with an assuming smile tugging at her muck covered cheeks, only to be met by an empty pocket of space and insidious laughter retreating on the wind. As most madmen do, he believed he had done what was best; rationalizing with himself that hope would do her no good in the world to come.


    Her eyes skittered frantically from side to side, encompassing all the carnage and emptiness they had created in their disastrous dance. She was engulfed in a fury unakin to any flame or beast ever witnessed in all of The Territories.


    Her lips tore and wept torrents of crimson as she roared in anguish, her voice shattered into a sobering whimper, resounding in contrast to the weighted silence.


    Though even after having been so close to finally ending her torment, even after he had escaped with her blade inches away from his throat, even now she offered him no victory; her knees would not buckle. Instead, she shook with a chilling violence as hungering flames edged nearer.


    They¡¯d all trusted Lord White so blindly, allowed him to take charge, take part in every last vestige of life on Noctra, and he betrayed them. He massacred every last Ta¡¯ and she knew the Nomads were next, she knew her people would join the dead before long. All she could think to do was scream as ash fell around her. Ash was all that remained of her dearest friends.


    All she had left was her daughter. All that she had left was Amberosin.


    Chapter One


    Noctra. She is the mother and master to all who set foot upon her varied soils, no matter their station or heritage, it is she who will decide the outcome of their endeavors. A loving beast, to be sure, a fickle goddess in her own regards, her lands are not without their dangers.


    Noctra¡¯s southernmost region is, sensibly, home to the largest port-city, Blancana. There are few natural barriers or dangers here, though the Wilder¡¯s are as thick as ever to the east, the inhabitants have developed most of the available territory to appease the hundred of Lords and Ladies residing within the city''s large walls. Huge, blindingly white buildings are erected around the bustling city as an homage to their leader, Councilor White; a man who has been around since the before founding of Blancana and who is said to have been invaluable to the creation of Noctra¡¯s civilizations.


    Held in high regard as the trade hub and economic boon of Noctra, it is also home to the largest economic division of all her children. Outside of Lord White¡¯s estate there are thousands of poor, starving citizens surviving off the scrapes of nobility. No matter their leaders past endeavors, I believe this to be a sign of how truly vile Councillor White is at heart. He is as untrustworthy as the thieves and vagrants that inhabit Blancana¡¯s estates.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400"> </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Historian Argonia Slib on Noctra. </li>


    </ul>


    A hooded figure walked alone down the remnants of Blancana¡¯s slums, layered cloaks of grey causing him to look like nothing more than a shadow from afar. Bandaged from head to toe without space even for eye holes, he was sure to be an ominous sight to any looking from the towers above him.


    In case any lookouts had been particularly blessed with healthy vision, the figure made sure to hide his blades beneath his cloak, revealing only his arms as he walked; smooth nubs where each hand should be and thick metal bracelets, obviously made from chains. He didn¡¯t want them to be too prepared for his arrival. All they needed to see was a specter coming from the wreckage of a once-great world.


    The bandaged man wanted them all to fear before they felt the wrath of his blades or strength of his will. Too long had they lived in peace, benefiting off of the eradication of his people, comfortable in their grand, new world.


    A world he continued to find increasingly empty. All around him silence shuddered with the winds of Noctra as they shook the gargantuan Wilders in an age-old dance. Aside from small beasts lurking nearby, and a young woman who crept behind him at the Wilder¡¯s edge, there was no one.


    Just outside the massive white walls that cut Blancana off from the Wilders and the rest of Noctra, he stopped to survey the area. According to the leather-bound book in his worn pouch, the slums used to be lively and full; dilapidated without a doubt, but nowhere near as gutted as the street he stood in. An emptiness that had become familiar to him since he had left the Northern mines months before and traveled the length of Noctra. Just as with every city and settlement he had passed on his journey, nothing more than fragmented and frozen remnants of their former glory, there was no one near the Wilders.


    No one on the outer side of the wall.


    The Grand Councilor had been busy molding the world to his image for the past ten years and that image left no room for the undesirable.


    Admittedly, the wrapped man himself would¡¯ve much preferred the coverage of growth and shade in the unending forests to open streets held within those ominous confines, though he had become increasingly cozy with discomfort. He found ways around it, ways to use it to his advantage.


    The large open streets constructed of recently placed marble, surrounded by glaring granite buildings adorned in gold and crystal terrified him undoubtedly; but it made using his Ta¡¯ Sevin, Venerable Sight, much easier. Even though he was born with the sight, there were some times it was nearly impossible to discern one essence from another. Noctra was home to so many.


    Out in the Wilders, he could get lost in an entirely different world. In the city, however, his path could not be more concise and clear.


    Knowing the sapphire glow from beneath the bandages may reach far in the encroaching darkness, the man pulled his hood lower and saw the White¡¯s Estate, the capital of Blancana, as it truly was. As Noctra intended. His right eye could see the glow from his left for a moment before everything shifted. He was unable to reign in his heart as it bucked wildly at the sight of essence around him. No matter how many times the bandaged man saw it, he was never prepared for the sheer brilliance of it all.


    Spewing from immaculate potted plants and waning weeds all the same, from the homes of nobles and the dung of their lowest subjects, essence floated in a humbling display. He could even see it seeping from solid stone, as if life from long ago still lingered, whispering its will.


    Emerald danced from over the border wall, cascading onto the streets below and swathing them in a dull green mist. Sapphire ambled aimlessly from the ground, entwined with an energetic salmon that swirled around the blues and shot skyward. None ever faded, only mixed. Only created.


    The bandaged man had to shake his head and breathe deeply before he could focus. See past the beauty and find the reds. Ruby, crimson, scarlet. Signs of sentient life. If one could call a servant of Lord White sentient. Only brainwashed or afflicted puppets could support such a cowardly, bloodied empire.


    There weren¡¯t many towers, six total, five Watchers each that he could see actively patrolling, and of those few, he couldn¡¯t see any that had faint lines running from their heads which told him they had no comms. There was no point in suppressing his wild smile. This sector was nearly empty aside from the scattered personnel and drunken residents that littered the streets outside nearly any establishment offering ale. He had to assume equipment was dismal and organization weak. The guard evidently didn¡¯t expect many visitors from the southern entrance, it being so close to the thicket of Wilder¡¯s and all.


    Too easy.


    After some time of standing out in the open surveying this bizarre and primitive form of wilderness, he was finally spotted. A single swirling mass of red essence had begun darting towards a set of stairs that led down, and eventually into, the wall; presumably to the nearest guardhouse, which meant it was time to move.


    Those above didn¡¯t seem to be well equipped which was entirely unsurprising. He doubted anyone could make a shot at him from so far above, whether with arrows or essence. A blessing that did not go uncounted as he reached the threshold of the gateless border and relinquished his sight, fading once more into darkness.


    Careful to keep his cloak pulled tight enough to hide the myriad of blue, yellow, and green strewn across his many bandages, the man cast a slight illusion with his essence, making it seem as if shadows swirled beneath his clothing and his feet did not touch the ground. In part to protect his identity, should anyone surprise him, though mostly because he knew it would tighten the throats of any guards unfortunate enough to come upon him.


    Unlikely any would, not before he wanted them to anyway, but it never hurt to be prepared.


    His prey would see the shadow of death come upon them before being welcomed into soundless eternity and that pleased him more than he cared to admit. He¡¯d never much relished in violence; before, at least. Something had awoken in him since Lord White had stolen his peaceful life.


    Something sinister.


    Once Solas had completely fallen and given way to Luna¡¯s cooling light, he stepped into the borders of Blancana¡¯s walls completely, mingling with shadows to hide his movements.


    As expected the White¡¯s guard had been alerted to a stranger coming from the WIlder entrance by a Watcher in the tower. They¡¯d come fast and he had only made it past the first street when two of their members appeared from the nearest station, weapons drawn.


    The bandaged man stayed low, silent, and still as a corpse when they walked by his position, pressed against the wall of the shop closest to him. They¡¯d responded quicker than he had anticipated, but that was no problem. Those above would still be watching, searching for the phantom stranger they¡¯d seen moments ago.


    Any survivors'' accounts would spread terror for him. He needed this to reach the heights of Blancana. Straight to Lord White and his Nu¡¯ council.


    Each of the passing guards wore a set of light armor as blindingly white as the walls of the indulgent shops, and homes, which grew more common further north. Adorned with long pristine capes bordered in gold the metal framework seemed more extravagant than efficient.


    Their faces remained unencumbered by masks which told the hooded man they were not of very high rank in The White¡¯s army.


    Still, they could be used to send a message.


    On the left was a shorter, slender man with gray sprinkled in his massive beard and long, unkempt hair. Obviously wielding years of experience and fading muscle beneath his shiny armor. His skin seemed aged and excessively pale for any Noctran.


    On the right stood a stout woman with a shaved head and ageless features, her cheeks burning red with the warmth of ale on her caramel skin. Tattoos aglow with essence lined her skull.


    Both held long, curved blades in their hands, ready to fight a ghastly nightmare from the Wilders or, more likely, terrorize a weary traveler. The sun-soaked woman chuckled as they passed by, nudging the paler elder man with drunken gusto. Her unused scabbard swung violently against a nearby bin, making the older man jump and blush. Somehow it made him look older. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    ¡°I can¡¯t believe they interrupted our cog¡­. Cocksuggin¡¯ break, for this!¡±


    Her companion grunted in response, seemingly agreeable, though a stern lip indicated he was more than a bit annoyed with how loudly the woman was expressing her qualms. Nonetheless, she carried on.


    ¡°Loog..even if this is an old coo- agh, coot or drunken bastard, I am letting off some steam tonight¡±, her voice rose gradually as she spoke, swinging her blade side to side erratically, to the man¡¯s obvious discomfort.


    Her slurs made the statement more than a touch ironic.


    ¡°You may want to calm yourself a little there Jen, could be the last of the Nomad waiting for us. Waiting for their revenge. We don¡¯ did a good number on em¡¯ these past few years, damn square is about filled with those rotten suckers. Pa¡¯ always knew they were freeloaders, but never doubted how vicious they were. Could be we are in for some trouble now.¡± The man slowed and his partner followed.


    They stayed quiet for a moment, stopping to turn and look at one another; paused for three heartbeats, and burst into hideous laughter.


    ¡°Or maybe-¡± she was nearly yelling now, ¡°one of those ¡®Venerable¡¯ Ta¡¯-urds come back to haunt us, huh? Boys up top said it was like a spectre. Ooh. ''''


    The stout, obnoxious woman couldn¡¯t help from snorting at herself. The older man chuckled softly and shook his head as he started to walk again.


    Such wit and charm between the two, the bandaged man had nearly considered letting them make their way home with a simple message on their tongues. They¡¯d obviously been reveling in prospects of another easy night, which made what he had to do that much simpler. That much more gruesome.


    Just as necessary.


    There would be no fantastic battle to be had. Under a mystifying aqua light from above, Blancana would bear witness to an astounding massacre. He would not allow his own dread or kind heart to stay his cold, vengeful intent.


    He¡¯d heard enough sneaking alongside them within the shop¡¯s gracious shadows to determine they¡¯d be suitable to deliver his message. To announce his arrival. They¡¯d taken to calling him The Silent One as of late and he wanted everyone to know he had finally arrived.


    As they neared the towers and fewer shadows were available due to the canopy of torchlights overhead, he rose and began walking towards the pair with an even, relaxed stride. No sound followed his footfalls. The fact that the lights above were created using techniques developed by his own people did not escape him, it gave him a tainted sense of familiarity.


    He allowed his cape to slowly fall open in waves of shade, revealing the intricate, colorful design of a Dreadbeast¡¯s outer hide on the inner fabric. A vibrant canvas of orange and blue lines spotted with purple and green. Marks of an alpha mother.


    Made only more intense by the bright lights, his visage was entirely clear to those on the towers above who could do nothing to warn their comrades below but shout over fierce winds.


    ¡°Behind-¡±


    ¡°Gods¡¯ damned spectre right¡­ run-¡±


    Mother Noctra had blessed him with her support in those roaring gusts.


    The wailing of the Watcher¡¯s traveled down a line of scouts above, down the myriad of stairs about the towers, which eventually elicited an uproar of stomping feet as others began charging down the way. Coming from the station Jen and the older man had left, no doubt. Expedient response but he knew it would not matter. They were ill-prepared for his wrath.


    Even with his venerable sight deactivated the bandaged man could tell there were no essence adept casters around. Some might be able to make a pretty flare or sting a little, but they were poorly outmatched. Their glows were faint as they approached from behind.


    No masked champions or captains in sight.


    The two inebriated guards only laughed and jeered in their peers'' direction, assuming some large prank afoot no doubt.


    Jen exploded into a scarlet red fervor when the older man dropped his trousers to match the pale light of the Mother Moon above.


    ¡°Oi, turn that wretched ole moon around Desril!¡± A younger guard approaching with the oncoming group scarcely broke through the fierce winds billowing about. Chuckling despite a trembling hand on the hilt of his blade.


    They were unconditioned, unalert, prey and he was a starved hunter ready to pounce. It would be quite the spectacle for the onlookers above which gave him a sick pleasure, one he struggled to choke down in silence, restraining a cry of primal rage he was sure would fade to laughter and tears before long.


    Mother would never have wished for this.


    He¡¯d been taught to live in peace and compassion but now was no longer the time for such things. It tormented him greatly, but not near so much as the thought of the White running free. Unhindered by his numerous sins.


    The moment they turned to face him the two guards shared in but a fraction of the horror and suffering he had endured at the hands of Grand Councilor White.


    That he endured with every fleeting breath.


    All for progress.


    Silent One levitated atop the ground summoning a fierce gale of his own.


    His spread cape painted sheer terror across the hairy older man¡¯s face, obviously aware of the pattern and implications it brought. Perhaps he¡¯d heard rumors of the vengeful spirit making its way across the Wilder¡¯s Edge on a guard killing spree, likely he could just know a thing or two about dreadbeast. The stout, ageless Jen looked utterly confused.


    A sweat broke out atop her smooth scalp at seeing Dresil freeze for a moment.


    ¡°Uh.. this the guy-¡± she was cut off by her companion who gathered enough wits to shout frantically in her ear as he fumbled with his belt buckle.


    ¡°Fucking ready your sword nitwit that¡¯s a real-¡±


    Gasps rang out in a pathetic cry nearly as loud as Jen¡¯s shout when the bandaged man seemed to levitate over with immaculate speed and steal the breath from Desril¡¯s very lungs; without raising an arm. No prints or tracks followed behind him. The metal framework bracelets about his wrist shifted loudly, piecing apart and coming back together as two false hands. He watched the fear build in Dresil¡¯s eyes before slowly tightening the grip of his will around the old man¡¯s throat.


    His gasps turned to a series of gargles and the bandaged man barely stifled tears. Blind rage, vile joy, and incessant sorrow all begging for release.


    Peace to you.


    A jarring crack ended the guard, silencing the old man''s wheezing strains and gurgles for good. Silent One slowly turned the dead man¡¯s body towards Jen, still without moving his arms. Rotating his framework hands in a bizarre and unnatural way that stirred up his cloak, making it thrash around more violently as the seconds passed. The bandaged man matched Dresil¡¯s lifeless eyes to the stout woman, let her see what fate had in store for her and let it fall with a resounding thump.


    She could not see his pity or sorrow and for that he was grateful. The woman only saw his supernatural fury.


    Jen had sobered enough to obtain some form of understanding, for instinctual terror had finally crept upon her face. Terror that lodged pain in Silent One¡¯s once kind heart and fed his ravenous vengeance all the same as he turned to face the shaken woman.


    Without a word, her sword clattered to the ground and Jen ran towards the crowd of her armored peers. Smart choice, he had to admit, but it was too late. A string of sickening gurgles escaped her once vivacious frame mere feet from her comrades with Silent One just behind her, arms extended to his sides while she choked on pure essence. Her own essence.


    All who saw knew it, for her neck was aglow. Bulging out further than her armor, veins pressing against shining skin. Blood crept out of her pores, but her caramel skin held.


    No one moved.


    The woman¡¯s face turned purple before bulging eyes popped in a sickening gush of gore and she was led into unending darkness. It was just as barbarous and gruesome as it was necessary, sending an ill feeling into his guts.


    Peace to you. Please.


    All those approaching stopped as her body fell face down in a rigid farewell. Swords were drawn but still or trembling. None were shouting above anymore. There was absolute silence.


    I¡¯m sorry.


    Silent One waited for the wind to pick up once more.


    Twelve stood before him, his cloak spread far enough to appear unnatural and phantomlike, consuming the world behind him and exposing his full visage in a swirling frame; a sight that kept all before him motionless. He was sure a few had even stopped breathing.


    It was an intoxicating feeling to hold such power over them but he knew he could not waste time with such tainted pleasures. Quickly he began casting down his legs, storing essence at his ankles. No glow revealing his planned cast. Nothing to warn them. A light clattering of metal could be heard as Noctra paused her rapid breathing.


    There is no death without purpose.


    Willing copious amounts of essence out of his feet he cast a command to bring all the guards to their knees with no words or sign of any sort. Heavy armors forced grunts and pained sounds as they slammed to the ground, dragging their wearers with them. The two nearest him, also a pair of one man and one woman, dropped their weapons as their arms bent backward.


    He could see many bled from the impact of their own armor alone but none suffered such severe wounds as those two, though a gruff, scratchy scream from one of the soldiers near the back told the others of something being broken.


    No life without pain.


    All the guards before him held the glow of essence in their hands, bright white and yellow lights running up their forearms though none moved to cast. Not even to heal themselves. Silent One wondered if they could. A few wore pained expressions of what he read as guilt.


    Veterans of The Fracturing, no doubt.


    These veterans held the fiercest flames behind their eyes as pain began to give way to fear, which led to anger . Each soldier held a small amount of burning hate towards him but none looked as primal as those who he assumed had partaken in the ¡°war¡±.


    Another slight convenience for his conscience.


    If he let them go now, they would surely attack, so he was required to act. Fear birthed their hate and fear made all creatures rabid if it was strong enough.


    He was a ghost to them, a nightmare come for unholy vengeance; reminder of their greatest sins. Things they would not speak to their children about nor acknowledge without a disturbing sense of pride. The silent killer had seen their work first hand as a child and would not settle for anything less than even.


    Rage had to have been scathing their insides as the moments passed.


    A maddening grin could be seen as the edges of his bandages wrinkled, watching as they all struggled on their knees, cursing him and all Ta¡¯ who¡¯d ever walked and died before him.


    They would die as his father had, full of terror and rage.


    The display was extremely tiring. Manipulating so much essence at once was considered dangerous, nearly impossible, for one of his skillset; though he could not help taking a moment to let them realize their helplessness in resisting fate. Feigning enjoyment was none the easier, for every invisible movement he made, each casting of essence, Silent One¡¯s heart ached.


    He knew most of the guards before him were not involved in his misery, that their leader was truly to blame; he also knew none of that mattered. They¡¯d followed his orders and reaped the benefits. Silent One cared about one thing only.


    The message.


    The beginning of vengeance for Noctra and her children.


    All that was left of the 3,000 years of peace the territories had known before The White¡¯s betrayal was a worn trail, quickly being pulled into the Wilders.


    Abandoned homes, ruins by in large, were surrounded still by mounds of ash and bone in the Ta¡¯ region.


    Matrius was all but crystalline rubble, the great mothers and daughters, Grand Matria herself, were lost. No longer casting a watchful gaze over all of Noctra.


    All that remained was a shining hill of debris and scorched lands.


    He dared not think on how the battle-hungry Trallengard fared. Their last-minute mutiny had surely infuriated the White enough to enact some form of retribution.


    Bring them justice.


    His rageful prayer resounded within. He prayed not to the Creator high above, he no longer believed in such a fool, such a beast who stood by watching their most loyal children massacred. The bandaged man prayed to Noctra and her legends, her shrines, her restorative powers.


    As always, he prayed to the mighty Dreadbeast who saved his life many years ago. Whose hide he wore upon his head and shoulders.


    He clenched his framework hands, stopping their rapid revolutions, and watched as all twelve bodies before him convulsed and contracted as their own essence solidified within them, shattering everything inside until they were nothing but pots of flesh holding crimson gore.


    One man with dark red and brown skin had locked eyes with Silent One until all life was choked from them. In them he¡¯d seen pure hatred. Hatred that faded with all else.


    Once the final guard had stopped wheezing and their eyes fell bleak, he drug all the lifeless to the pinnacle of the lights above. Ensuring to stay afloat and keep his cloak flowing erratically with frenzied essence, the bandaged man stood tall and held one hand to the corpses. The other high above his head, fingers and wrists spinning once more.


    A shining stream of blood, most still viciously warm, was siphoned from the dead with his will and sent flying into the air. He became the focal point of a grim fountain that seemed to breach the clouds for more than a few breathless moments.


    He knew the blood flowed through his essence and not his own body, but that scarcely staved off the feeling of disgust as the smell of iron rode on Noctra¡¯s rapid gust and gasps of chilling air. It stained his nostrils and burned in his lungs.


    Those above were caught in the red rainfall, being slathered in gore, stinking and fresh. Some wailed as if cursed with an awful omen, though the more perceptive Watcher¡¯s had already started running.


    They must partake.


    Silent One¡¯s spinning framework palms began sparking and crackling. As they began to shine brighter and stronger he extended the fingers on his raised hand and shot forth swaths of electricity that cracked and roared horrendously loud within the city walls, using the blood as a pathway to the sky above; frying the soaked Watchers as it passed. The ground beneath him and the bodies at his feet were scorched.


    Torches of essence and flame began flickering on in nearby homes. He waited but a moment before he theatrically floated around the corner without a speck of dirt or blood on his person.


    Silent One willed essence to pull Noctra¡¯s loving embrace over his victims'' bodies. He would not deny them proper burial as they had his own; he was better than that.


    Once around the corner of the nearest street he let himself fall to the ground from his invisible pedestal. Gasping as sweat pooled beneath his colorful bandages, the specter began limping away; only partly as a guise. He would take no chances here, Blancana was the closest thing Grand Councilor White had to a heart.


    Hard to imagine.


    Silent One figured if anything beat in his chest, it would be cold and metallic.


    He could not help but think about the young woman he¡¯d seen in the woods as he trudged onwards into the unfamiliar streets before him. She¡¯d been invisible to his sight. Silent One only became aware of her presence because he heard her, just barely, above the calm wind of midday. Nearly his age, only a year or so shy, she was small and capable of hiding fairly well in the undergrowth of the Wilders. Silent One couldn¡¯t place why until he¡¯d spotted her salving a scar, sharp-tipped mountains flipped upside down to resemble ¡®W¡¯, like so many others on bodies hanging all throughout Noctra.


    He felt his pain mirroring her own.


    Scores of guards, soldiers, captains, and civilians had begun to pour down the streets as he staggered and swayed into the night. Hollers and soul-wrenching wails followed behind him as a new reality dawned on the citizens of Blancana. Those who knew the mounds and their meaning would understand. They would spread the word to neighbors and lovers. No one would question the reasoning.


    His hood drawn tight, Silent One disappeared. Left them to face their sorrows. To sow his panic. They must witness.

 Chapter Two

    Chapter Two


    Amberosin had always believed her luck to be fairly¡­ well, shit. Three weeks before the bandaged man began his havoc, Amberosin had slyly snagged a key from a merchant on the Northern Port¡¯s road, named after some newly appointed noble or another, and fled the scene with guards hot on her tail. The young woman had figured they would be on alert for a few days and she could survive off of hunting and gathering for that long.


    She nearly starved for two weeks.


    Not to mention the three Mother Moons introduced Amberosin to an astonishing new part of her life. A gift from Solas; new, poorly placed, blood. Along with cramps and pains straight from hell, she suffered a soreness that made her wish for death hours on end. She spent the better part of a week scouting the towers and wall from a fetal position under thickets, bleeding in small pools that she covered with dirt to avoid attracting any hungry beast.


    She¡¯d never felt so useless or miserable as when she burst into horrible sobs after dropping a berry and watching it be stolen by a small furry creature.


    After a few days she had realized bleeding was slowing and the pain subsiding, if only a little. She had also come to terms with the fact Wilder vermin and berries would not be enough to depend on, not in the quantities she could obtain alone. Not while she bled so freely. She was weary and feared she may misremember her mother¡¯s teachings, eat a shit-storm inducing nut or berry and die.


    Days and nights were wasted sobbing in self pity as she watched the guards along the border trying to decipher their scheduled changes only to realize on the sixth night she¡¯d not seen one person twice in the same posting. She¡¯d made dangerous assumptions, thinking her previous exploits made her seem more like a group of Nomad¡¯s and there would be stricter shifts because they feared an actual resistance. Strict shifts were easy to read and remember; typically.


    Amberosin cursed herself for staking so much on single haul, on one stupid key. She was sure that had been the cause of the guards sudden change in habits. Amberosin had played the events over in her mind again and again. Torturing herself all the more.


    While she had been scouting out takes in the port district she¡¯d overheard a local apprentice drunkenly exclaim how his new master was a wealthy merchant from some far off land.


    ¡°A man who''s never been to Blancana. Will teach me the ways of exquisite culinary prower..prowess, so he says. Right o¡¯er there.¡±


    The homely young man seemed right proud of himself, likely aided by the free ale his mates had procured in celebration of a friend''s good fortune. In their drunken elation None had thought to quiet themselves from prying ears.


    Amberosin took off in the direction the fool had pointed, directly across the marbled road, before any other brigands in the shadows could claim it as their own. She arrived only seconds before a cloaked pair who looked rather clean to be hard pressed thieves from the slums.


    Ah, Port thieves. Must be dressed by the nobles.


    She snickered despite herself and thanked the Creator above that they were still far enough away to remain unalert.


    Amberosin crouched just inside the doorway of the abandoned building and could see they were looking behind them, making sure no one had followed. Looking away from her. Their finely kept grey and white cloaks weren¡¯t familiar but their tattered hoods and serrated daggers were unmistakable. She let out a sigh of relief as she revealed herself.


    ¡°Patri and Senfe.¡± Closest things Amberosin had to friends, in the sense that they didn¡¯t try to kill her; typically.


    Both cloaked figures had spun on her at the same time. Patri scowling with his daggers drawn. He still sported a purple knot above his left eye that she¡¯d given him during their last disagreement. His hair was long, curly, and black with grey peppered throughout but it did little to hide his unseemly shiner. Senfe turned with a warm smile already on her lovely face as Amberosin appeared from the threshold of the soon-to-be merchant¡¯s shop.


    ¡° You two love birds come looking for somewhere to store those fancy cloaks before heading back south to maul each other outside a pub?¡± She couldn¡¯t help but flash her teeth in a soft grin as she eyed their outfits. ¡°Trimmed in gold? Thieving for nobles now I suppose? Thought ya better than that.¡±


    Patri muttered and fumed like an enraged kettle but didn¡¯t move a muscle, Amberosin noted that his scars seemed almost alight and swore his eyes had gone white.


    Senfe laughed wholeheartedly and shook her head, dark curls bouncing just above her bright emerald eyes. Not an ounce of anger or concern. She walked calmly towards Amberosin with her hands out before her.


    ¡° Oh believe me honey, we¡¯ve got more dignity than that. For the time being at least.¡± Senfe¡¯s muscular arms wrapped around her delicately and Amberosin returned the gesture. ¡°Though, you know how it is. If the take is good enough, I don¡¯t care who''s paying. As long as momma can eat.¡± Rubbing her belly as she backed away to Amberosin¡¯s side Senfe slammed down and crossed her legs.


    Amberosin appreciated the sentiment more than Senfe could imagine, her own stomach felt as if it had begun eating itself and she¡¯d developed a light tremor. Amberosin¡¯s empty guts nearly tore away from her in a fatalistic mutiny when Senfe pulled out a pack with cooked meat and started snacking loudly. Her mouth had watered so badly Amberosin feared it would spill over her chapped lips.


    ¡° Kind of what I was thinking about this place.¡± she pointed to the building she had come from; the same one they¡¯d come for. ¡°Really need a steady supply of food for the colder season.¡±


    Really need a steady supply of food in general.


    ¡° Alright, alright. I can hear your stomach from here Amb, kind of disgusting actually.¡± Senfe smiled and tossed her a few thick pieces of meat. ¡°Though you know you would eat more in a guild or gang. You know you¡¯ve got the skill.¡±


    Amberosin shook her head side to side as she scarfed down the first piece, swallowing the last bite slowly while she sucked the flavors out of what remained. She let it linger a moment before responding.


    ¡° I¡¯m not much of a partner Senfe, I¡¯m pretty selfish you know.¡±


    ¡°Yeah you have taken just about anything worth taking in the southern districts, I don¡¯t mind though, jobs up here are easier and pay more.¡±


    ¡° I only steal what I need, I happen to be still growing you know¡± Amberosin grinned as she tore into her last piece of meat; Senfe watched her with a blissful smile.


    Patri finally managed to stomp over and waited barely a second after Amberosin had finished her jerky before exploding.


    ¡°By whichever fuckin¡¯ gods, for the sake of all the Legends¡­. and orphans of The Fracturin¡¯.. Please let me ¡®ave this spot.¡± The man''s voice trembled in a half beg, half threatening sort of way.


    She imagined it hurt his pride quite a lot, considering his age had to be at least twice her own, but she couldn¡¯t do it. No matter how much she loved the odd duo, she needed to eat. Maybe if it had been another take, but not this one.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to have the food Pat.¡±


    ¡°Learn ta¡¯ cook ya¡¯ little shit.¡± His fist clenched tight enough that Patri¡¯s knuckles turned white.


    ¡°Ah, see that requires much that I do not have. I think this best, yeah? You can have all the others, I¡¯ll just need this one. For a while.¡± She liked to see him steam and rave before a little spar but he seemed more incessant this time. It made her tense.


    ¡°Ya¡¯ have said that before. Ya¡¯ have again and again.. But still here we are.¡±


    He drew his daggers up to his chest and held them towards her, swaying more than a step. It took the sway for her to realize; his eyes were white, glazed over with signs she knew all too well.


    ¡°He¡¯s hooked?¡± She looked to Senfe who merely shrugged nonchalantly and continued snacking.


    ¡°Figured you¡¯d whip his ass into shape better than I can- oh woah.¡±


    Patri charged Amberosin, swinging with rabid intent; one slash high, one slash low, a jab at the neck. His pattern was the same as ever and Amberosin swayed around each strike. Her open palms slapped Patri¡¯s wrists and threw off his balance before she rammed a double fist into his groin. The addled man drooled slightly into his beard and fell to shaken knees but his blank eyes raged at her.


    I can feel more! Amberosin could hear her mother singing.


    Unable to contain her sudden fury, Amberosin slammed a hard heel into Patri¡¯s temple, sending him face-first into the marble with brutal force. Bleeding from his nose and forehead he rose and immediately started swinging with abandon again. His pattern was the same, though much faster than before, blades nearly kissing her skin more than once.


    It helps me focus. Amberosin''s mother had always had a reason.


    Amberosin dropped low with her foot out and slammed Patri¡¯s ankle as he struck empty air above her, reeling sideways and landing on his stomach. She caught his extended arm as he fell and held it high up above his shoulder, her knee placed on the man¡¯s back to apply pressure.


    She felt like snapping it, breaking his arm badly enough he would remember, always, what that poison had gotten him.


    ¡°You dare inject the same filth,¡± she pushed his arm up further, weighing down on her knee with more force, ¡° that killed my mother,¡± again she pressed and could hear his bones popping, at their limits, ¡° and demand my take?¡± Amberosin released Patri¡¯s arm and slammed his head into the ground.


    ¡°Fucking fool.¡±


    She turned and walked the other way for a few steps so he could not see her face scrunch as she fought back burning tears; fist shaking as she raised them to her chest. Patri spat blood from his mouth, smiling like a madman now.


    Senfe remained seated on the ground nodding her head in agreement.


    ¡° Waste of good coin, I told him so.¡±


    Patri was up again already.


    Amberosin spun left and kicked out, her right foot slamming into the man¡¯s knee with a gratifying pop just before he tackled her. Any other day and he would have buckled from the pain, tumbled to his side, and begged for her mercy but she was weak from lack of eating and Patri was amped up on ¡®Synth-Es¡¯.


    It helps you escape. That was her favorite ¡°reason¡±.


    Her mother had died with a needle still in her arm. Amberosin had expected the sight for a long time, knew what was coming by what had been before, but that had not made it easier.


    She¡¯d never seen what it could do to an essence caster.


    Patri, generally hot-headed but kind enough as thieves went, had become a savage being. Essence shone through his skin, highlighting a labyrinth of veins with a soft golden light as the older man stomped full force on his dislocated knee, pivoted, and grabbed Amberosin by her throat. A blue shine traveled up the man¡¯s leg, less bright than golden light. He was healing.


    Patri¡¯s eyes were now nearly devoid of a white haze, instead, they swam with a sea of agitated red eels, pulsating in time with his heartbeat.


    Shit.


    She swore there was a shadow dancing around all that red.


    Amberosin held her breath as Patri¡¯s grip tightened and he lifted her to the sky with a mindless smile spread across his suddenly terrifying face. She imagined he was monologuing, congratulating himself on a victory long in the making. She could almost see the exact moment his mind started to play back the reel of every time she¡¯d bested the four-decades-old guild lord. As Patri¡¯s smile faded in the face of his failures Amberosin gave a crazed grin of her own.


    Her lungs seethed with fire, throat burned in pure agony as Patri¡¯s shining hand tightened like a vice, her legs dangling above the ground, held by a man who was literally aglow with a vengeance for her.


    Amberosin smiled even wider despite the building tears. No more holding back.


    Senfe had stood upon seeing the smile on her reddening face but she was far too late. Amberosin swung her legs to one side before flinging them to the other, a sleek gripless blade fell from the back of her tunic and she grasped it instantly. Patri was utterly blindsided when his wrist exploded into a gush of crimson rain, blurring his vision and causing his hand to go limp.


    Amberosin slammed her elbow into his gut as she landed, letting out a horrid breath that scorched her lungs before she sucked in a gentle stream to cool them, and promptly stabbed Patri in his thigh. The next breath out saw a quick gash on his wrist, breath in, deep stab into his shoulder; breath out, a shallow cut on his neck.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    She poked him full of holes and watched the essence drain with hefty trails of blood, pooling at the dazed thief''s feet. If Patri was lucky, she¡¯d bleed him dry of the filth he¡¯d injected. He was too stunned to retaliate even in his frenzied state, simply stood there bleeding out before finally falling to his knees without a sound. Before he could slam onto his face Senfe caught him and held Patri in her arms like a child, she smiled at Amberosin in a sincere warmth.


    ¡°If that doesn¡¯t teach him, I don¡¯t know what will.¡±


    ¡°Thought you¡¯d be a bit.. Upset I went so far. Considering you love him so much.¡± She smirked at Senfe as she wiped her small blade clean on the pant of her leg.


    ¡°Honey,¡± she grunted as she hoisted the man up higher and turned to leave, ¡°I fuck him. Loving is something different. You take care now Amberosin; always a pleasure.¡±


    ¡°Likewise.¡±


    She saluted the duo lazily and stumbled inside the empty building, fell with her back against the wall, and let a dizzy spell pass her by. It was just getting to be dark out and she had work to do. The young woman drank as much water as she could manage without feeling sick, checked her blades, and left. A simple mark on the inside of the door frame claimed the spot as hers; it would deter most who knew its owner.


    Being a newcomer to the city made the merchant an easier mark for her; the merchant was less likely to expect a quick theft his first few days in the fabled ¡®Marble City¡¯.


    His specializing in food made the take all the more appealing. Amberosin had enough of the trash and scraps she survived on, too afraid to light a fire to cook for herself in the Wilders. Someone could always be watching the edge of her eternal forest, waiting for a chance to prove themselves to Lord White with the head of the last Nomad.


    Making Amberosin all the more cautious.


    She had made her way into an abandoned building near the incomplete shop and waited until the port markets were ablaze with life. As Solas began her descent, Blancanan shops and stalls exploded into being. Nobles, peasants, travelers, thieves, and far too many guards, littered the port streets. All coming or going in search of their next meal or treasure from afar. Nowhere else did one see such a vast array of people, a horde of variety and color. Lighter skinned Trallens from far north wore their thick leather and fur even in the tepid warmness of the Blancanan night. Bones and teeth lining their garments and dreads, trophies from their fiercest kills.


    Native citizens wore their thin, colorful garbs or lavish dress wear adorned in gold. Most sporting some piece of white clothing or aesthetic as an homage to the Grand Councilor. Being that they live in the desert oasis of Blancana they were almost all much darker than any of the Trallens she could see.


    New Matria, officially sector three in the White¡¯s Noctra, had few representatives out in heavily guarded areas. Grand Councilor White had decimated Matrius, more out of spite for the Al¡¯ Matri than anything else if word was to be true. None of the original citizens survived. Still, some women of all nationalities, in baby blue robes with quaint hats of the same color could be spotted in small groups.


    Uma¡¯ guards had become more common since The Fracturing and people had simply accepted it. They were the White¡¯s ally and that¡¯s what mattered; an ally of The White was an ally of Blancana. Their red paints, large piercings, and fur gauntlets made them look like the badland savages they were rumored to be despite years of captivity and, supposed, domestication. White armbands were all that showed their allegiance.


    Amberosin had scouted for hours on end, soaking in the patterns of movement, pinpointing the groups and loners in her mind. Using all the weeks in the month she had left to prepare the best route, the best method to steal her daily bread. Etching guard locations into the very front of her tired brain, she¡¯d set out with hopes of a massive, easy score.


    She had often wondered if stealing the key had been worth it over those two weeks she spent starving at the edge of the Wilders. Amberosin had thought herself so clever for openly stealing fruit from a nearby vendor to draw attention away from her actual mark. She had become brazen and excited at the prospects of a good meal.


    Amberosin had planned on looping back from the east to the shop late that night after shaking the patrols and pursuers; instead, her adrenaline gave her false courage. With a pack of raving port guards well behind her and more than a few merchants shouting as she sped by, Amberosin ended up going straight through the main street towards the furthest southern district, towards what she had left of home.


    She¡¯d underestimated the veracity, and quality, of Port security.


    Mere seconds after she had sprinted away from the fruit carts, ducked guards, and sidestepped many colorful citizens, chuckling to herself all the while, a platoon of White¡¯s soldiers came marching down the street before her. Amberosin knew the southern patrols by heart and knew they traveled in groups no larger than twelve, never with a captain or masked Legend. The port itself usually saw groups of fifteen, sometimes a captain, sometimes not, according to her prior scouting at least. Nearly thirty fully armored guards stood before her as she rounded that first corner in her grandiose ¡°escape¡±; her planning and impeccable timing be damned.


    The man leading the mass of guards sent crippling chills down her spine, for Amberosin recognized his large, smooth mask, shaped like a teardrop atop his shoulders, pure white with gold lines running along the side. Staring her down from not three quick strides away was the bastard son of Councillor White.


    Mezir De Blancana.


    The most recent memory she held of Mezir was him hanging Ragoth¡¯s still warm body beside her mother¡¯s in the square and walking away to a roar of approval. Amberosin knew she could only do so much with her daggers, once again tucked neatly into the back of her tunic. She knew that she definitely could not take down thirty soldiers on her own and there was no way Amberosin could hope to stand against Mezir, even on her best day.


    Soldiers from the market had circled her in from behind and stood with weapons drawn. Most seemed more than flustered, obviously upset a young hooligan had escaped their pitiful pursuit and ran directly into their superior.


    Not a good look.


    Muscles in her cheek tugged at cracked lips as the young woman settled into the comfort of her training, crouching slowly with eyes cast down, round, shaded goggles always on. Amberosin moved quickly and viciously, hoping to be a blur. Dashing from side to side, erratically closing in on him, she moved fast enough to make the first few soldiers behind him jump and raise their shields out of pure instinct. A frightened gasp from one widened her grin to a maddening degree.


    Amberosin feigned one last left step and shot right with her fist forward.


    In time with her fist rising to meet the bottom of Mezir¡¯s mask she lifted her legs and prepared to spring off his heavily armored chest. Putting enough spin on the punch would help her to turn, setting up for a beautiful lunge over the disgraced market guards who had started to run over, hoping for some meager redemption. It should have been a soaring spectacle where she would pelt the stolen fruit into the nearest guards awestruck face, flee into the many crevices and alleyways of Blancana, and feast handsomely by night¡¯s end.


    Only the spinning uppercut never met Mezir¡¯s teardrop mask.


    Amberosin¡¯s highly trained legs never touched his bulky, pristine armor; never sprang her into jaw-dropping action. Instead, they snapped outwards, down, against only air, and went painfully limp as her knees threatened to flee from her body with nauseating cracks.


    Whoever had caught her truly had impeccable timing¡­ and gargantuan fingers.


    Dangling above the ground at her full-length Amberosin could only see the market guard ahead of her; knowing full well her captor was holding her where Mezir could see his attacker. The hand holding Amberosin absolutely belonged to an Alta.


    A gigantic double-coated hand with thick orange dreads that hung below Amberosin''s trapped forearm spun her around confirming what she already knew. No normal person squeezed hard enough to draw the blood that ran down Amberosin¡¯s captured arm, or moved fast enough to get the jump on her.


    Mezir stood unfazed with his hands at his sides, his masked face mere inches from her own, confident in his own safety. Amberosin wondered if he was even looking at her under there.


    ¡°Sir. She¡¯s a tiny one.¡± The towering orange Alta, who sported a surprisingly human face, sniffed the air next to her hair and snorted, ¡°And a bit¡­ripe I should say.. uh, Sir.¡± Her meager smile revealed huge, dagger-like teeth on the bottom jaw. The Alta woman¡¯s extremely human eyes scanned Amberosin relentlessly for more than a moment, injecting a frostbitten terror into her veins that numbed everything beneath her thin tunic.


    She recognized hunger when she saw it.


    ¡°Likely homeless, by the smell of things.¡± The Alta scoffed and looked to Mezir. Rather than feel insulted, Amberosin was relieved.


    No one wants a stinking meal.


    Besides, there was no point in taking offense to the truth.


    ¡°Or¡± came a soft, even voice from behind the teardrop mask, ¡°just a far way from home.¡± Mezir¡¯s voice lacked any passion and any levity was painfully forced.


    It seemed time had taken some things from him as well.


    ¡°You.¡± Mezir nodded towards the nearest market guard, a middle-aged man with sea-worn skin and pale green eyes who jolted to attention.


    ¡°Uh, Fernwick sir.¡± He shifted into an awkward bow eliciting chuckles and odd stares from his peers, his face flushed red as he stood. Amberosin¡¯s blood dropped down onto the flawless marble road, though she went largely unnoticed now, hanging like ripped cloth in the wind.


    ¡°Fernwick. What are her crimes exactly?¡±


    ¡°Theft and evasion. Sir.¡± The now beet red guard nodded to the fruit still in her free hand. ¡°Not much theft, mind you, but a helluva evasion.¡±


    Mezir¡¯s masked head moved gently from side to side as he looked over all the guards.


    ¡°I should say so since the whole district seems to be here.¡±


    A lightly forced chuckle from most the market security seemed to alleviate the tension a bit. Amberosin felt the grip on her wrist loosen ever so slightly; any more and she could do it. No one looked her way now.


    Again that forced, flat tone came from behind the mask.


    ¡°Ah, you all go on. My men will cover your stations the rest of the night,¡± no one else seemed to notice the act, but she could hear something, some strain.


    Angry are we, Mezzie?


    ¡° We¡¯ll handle this, heading to the Port Station anyways. Thank you for your service today.¡± Mezir shooed them away with a gentle wave.


    A casual two-fingered salute in return and they were off, Fernwick once more at the front of the pack. No doubt glad to be out of Mezir¡¯s eyesight.


    Mezir¡¯s masked head slightly tilted in her direction once more and she wondered if he were scanning her or merely looking through her. Not knowing gave Amberosin a sense of dread she hoped she instilled in the guards before her. With her own eyes covered they had no sense of her true intentions.


    Not even the Alta could have been prepared.


    ¡°Alright, Heria, why don¡¯t yo-¡±


    Mezir¡¯s voice was cut off as a soldier yelled in shock.


    Heria¡¯s massive double-coated arm was streaming in blood from the wrist and Amberosin was already disappearing down an alley to the left by the time the Alta woman even realized it was her own pool of absolute red splattering against the white marble. Amberosin didn¡¯t look back but she heard a large group of guards pursuing her. Slamming into vagrants and shadows of the alley, a few of the guard¡¯s even tried to mimic her two-step jump to the roofs above, though their heavy armor and poor agility allowed her to escape to safety.


    She smiled thinking of when Ragoth taught her that little trick as she soared from one abode to the next, quickly making it to the southern district. A dwindling group of guards still pursued her, giving chase all the way to the border wall, driving her back into the Wilder¡¯s before ever turning back.


    Southern guards were hardly so determined.


    Amberosin then had a key to a shop she didn¡¯t know if she would be able to reach again. As such, Amberosin settled on the fact that she just must have shit luck.


    That was until the bandaged stranger startled her in the Wilders.


    Amberosin had been trying to repair tears in her shoddy tent when she saw the bandaged man picking through cianic berries, digging in the teeming underbrush, and draining sap from wilder-trees. Only a shade to her through the lush thicket of Wilder initially, the man moved with inane speed. He plucked bright green leaves from one spot, then another, moving with fluid confidence as he dropped them into one of two leather pouches.


    He moved on pure instinct.


    Amberosin had been awestruck, staring with mouth agape from a semi-crouched position, hidden in the shadows of a nearby tree. She could only make out a hooded outline through the thick foliage and her eyesight was nearly perfect, so she felt safe moving closer to get a better look at her intruder. Careful not to move any branch too far one way or another Amberosin had set forth only to feed her curiosity. Her heart pounded as she painstakingly matched her steps to the undulating winds, covering any noise she may create in the rustle of Noctra¡¯s massive, mysterious forest. She was eternally thankful her bleeding had subsided almost entirely and no random pains wracked her body.


    Amberosin¡¯s eyes were so set on the foraging shadow that she nearly tripped in a small animal¡¯s den and had to slam all her weight down at once to soften the sound. Fortunately, the wind picked up speed just as she hit and the shadow did not cease his impressive work. She hesitated for a moment before taking a chance by moving a large group of branches, clearing her view of the intruder.


    Whatever it was Amberosin had been expecting when she pulled back the thick foliage, it surely was not a man wrapped completely in colorful bandages and what she swore was dreadbeast skin as a cloak. A brief thought crossed her mind to steal it but Amberosin decided against it upon seeing the man¡¯s two blades and hands of metal that floated an inch or so above smooth wrists.


    Probably didn¡¯t get the hide by asking nicely.


    She found herself most intrigued by the lack of eye holes in his bandages and wondered what the slight bump on the left could be; put together with the metal hands, Amberosin assumed there was some more framework under there. Regardless, it made sense to assume that a man who hid his face didn¡¯t much like talking to other people; so the starving Amberosin stayed hidden and watched the stranger collect and forage in ways she¡¯d never seen.


    The armed stranger was grabbing herbs and roots for healing, poison, and Legends knew what else. A purple flower with red veins found its way to his hand and she knew for a fact that it was poisonous, just not to what degree. This didn¡¯t tell her much, but it did tell her one very important thing; he was preparing to cause trouble.


    Trouble was terribly convenient for a hollow bellied thief like herself who needed an easy way into a heavily guarded district. Gathering that she¡¯d be heading into the walls behind the stranger soon enough, she began her own ritual. Amberosin slowly picked up a few things here and there, eventually mixing around some ground dirt and cherry red bark with water to make a salve. Silently crouched with burning thighs all the while. Keeping eyes on the stranger at all times, Amberosin gingerly applied the salve to the ever tender scar set upon her right cheek, shaped like a sharp-tipped mountain turned upside down; the mark of a Non-Es. A branding she had to keep hidden to survive, Amberosin knew what it would mean for her if anyone were to recognize it.


    Two hours after Amberosin first spotted the armed bandaged man he finally made his move toward the city border. Amberosin feared more than once her salve may start running from sweating and her muscles ached from crouching for so long. She was more than relieved when he moved toward the main road. Amberosin sighed and stretched with quiet groans of pleasure until every muscle sighed along with her. Satisfied, she then watched for the man¡¯s shadow to disappear. She waited ten minutes before exiting the exact spot in the street the bandaged stranger had left, intent on tracking him and capitalizing as soon he caused a scene.


    Upon reaching the main road she found a small pouch with a few berries and tonics left out in the open; she recognized it instantly as the stranger¡¯s second pouch.


    He knew she had been watching.


    Amberosin¡¯s face flushed at the thought that she could have been standing all the while.


    What a bastard. She smiled.


    It took fifteen more minutes of walking before she caught sight of the hooded man in Luna¡¯s cool and calm light. From where she stood he looked more shade than man, but Amberosin could still make him out well enough to see the moment he crossed into the open Southern Border. This was further from her destination than she would have preferred, though Amberosin held out hope that he would cause a big enough scene to warrant Northern Port guards to abandon their posts. Relying on her newfound luck she moved forward with the merchant¡¯s key placed securely in the gifted pouch attached to her side.


    Having seen the young bandaged man purposely draw attention by standing in the torchlight below the towers, she strayed from his course and bounded over a broken border farther east. Amberosin thanked Luna for illuminating her path as a peaceful sheen seemed to light every foothold and rooftop she desired on her way to the Northern Districts. She passed guards unaware of her presence from high up while she could but as Amberosin neared the ports, spaces between buildings became larger and roofs taller. The bandaged stranger had attracted a small group of soldiers that rushed down the main street, towards Blancana¡¯s border, their armor clanking as one yelled at another to turn around.


    Amberosin wanted to stop, to go see what was happening, but her stomach growling like a rabid beast begged her onwards. Knowing she would likely return to find his corpse being drug away, Amberosin wished the man luck and kept silently on her path.


    Her feast awaited.

 Chapter Three

    Chapter Three


    No sooner than he had lifted his mask above scarlet, sweat laden hair, an explosive sound tore through the night. It came from further south, so far as he could tell. The man¡¯s sigh and dejected gaze caused hair to fall in front of his face, etching blazing lines of red across his light, freckled skin. A tinge of red glazed his light brown features whenever soft flames from torches in his chamber or the rays of a Mother Moon chanced a glance upon the man. An ever rarified event. He was the mask and the mask was he; his last decade had been spent wearing the mantle of another man. A glorious man.


    He hoped desperately that the explosion was the real Mezir, come back for a holy vengeance. Upon all of them. The man would find out soon enough. He was keenly aware that there would only be a few short moments before someone came to his door asking for his presence or assistance.


    The man looked into the mirror in his chambers with furious intent.


    Mezir. He stared into his own dark blue as he thought the name.


    Mezir. Mezir.


    He willed as hard as he could, wanting so hard to believe the lie, but he¡¯d known Mezir. He had known the man when he was but a boy. The true Mezir didn¡¯t look tired or rough, never had patchy stubble on his lavishly handsome face. His adeptness with essence kept him looking younger, like all true Legends, while the man in the mirror had telltale signs of haggard age. The mask hid all of it though.Stolen story; please report.


    All the insecurities and daily pains his lies elicited were kept behind the estech Legend¡¯s mask. The view from within was a view from another world; another being entirely. He had the wisdom, the prowess of Mezir, practically given to him. He would have never believed something like it existed on Noctra before The Fracturing; and for the last decade, it had been his. It knew him as he knew it and it helped him with all the difficult decisions. The mask kept him sane... as he could be. It had been the only reason he had recognized Amberosin on the North Port¡¯s main road those few weeks ago.


    The teardrop mask had tracked her movement as she ran away, caught the jump from one wall to another in a loop, and let him watch until it finally dawned on him. Amberosin had looked so different when he had taught her to jump like that. Making contact with the eyes of his reflection the man slowly slid the mask over his head and watched the tired, sleeplessly tormented fool, disappear. In his place standing tall and proud was Blancana¡¯s living Legend.


    ¡°Mezir.¡± A gruff, muffled voice called through the door.


    ¡°One moment please, Heria. I¡¯m not quite decent.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ll be here all night if we¡¯re waiting for you to look anything near decent. Ehrm, Sir?¡± Her chuckle was deep and low.


    Thank the Lords it was Heria.


    ¡°It¡¯s still weird, isn¡¯t it? Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll keep that as a rule only when ¡®important¡¯ guests are around. Otherwise, no more ¡®Sirs¡¯, yeah?¡±


    A quick grunt followed by a meager laugh escaped Heria on the other side.


    He shook his head with a chuckle of his own and fixed his cape to look more rounded up top. Straight backed with a confident stride, the man left beside his large armed companion. Blessed with a few more hours away from his antagonizing reflection, he set out at the head of the full estate guard. Heria scouted ahead in the shadows, meant to meet with them at regular intervals. Though the walk was short, familiar to his guard, everyone was on alert.


    Whatever awaited them was surely more than a few guild thieves running amuck.

 Chapter Four

    Chapter Four


    Fast and easy just like she wanted it to be.


    Amberosin was in and out of the merchant¡¯s shop within minutes. After a slow few years, aside from petty theft and squabbles between noble families, both new and old, Amberosin wasn¡¯t surprised there hadn¡¯t been a soul four streets out from her destination.


    Everyone was headed south, starved for entertainment or distraction.


    She had said a quick prayer to the stranger and hoped intensely for his safety before she dove down to the empty streets and sped to the shop¡¯s rear entrance. The key completed its task flawlessly and Amberosin was but a flash as she slid, dove, and jumped across the shop in a hungered frenzy, grabbing nearly all the food her sack could handle. A quick stop by the register to snag a few coins and she was gone, back into the streets and climbing up to the rooftops with her bulging sack. Amberosin allowed herself a small celebration in the form of some pastries and thanked the Creator she had stopped to do so, otherwise, she may not have heard the heavy footsteps echoing from the north.


    The direction of the White¡¯s Estate.


    They were still distant, likely five minutes out, but the empty streets cast the incessant clanging of metal boots to each end of the city. Amberosin figured it was the estate guard and knowing who led them decided it best to fly home on the rowdy winds. She nearly went out at the broken wall on the eastern side where she entered before but found there to be an influx of guards, searching for the bandaged stranger no doubt. He really seemed to have done a number on them. Not one guard she saw was free from the expression of fear on their face. They¡¯d seen something that paled their skin and widened their eyes. Amberosin wanted to find the man and thank him for whatever it was. The guard¡¯s frenzied state, however, made it harder for her to sneak past without spooking someone and having another unfair fight on her hands. Amberosin was tired... And hungry, by the Legends, was she hungry. Her celebratory snack had only proven to agitate the need to eat.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    In the short time it had taken her to sprint back on the flat open rooftops of Blancana a massive crowd had already gathered, shoving and squeezing to get a closer look at something towards the southern entrance; just below the tower lights where she had seen the man before. Amberosin had to descend past the crowd to sneak out of the front entrance with her large sack in hand and decided to crouch low for a few moments behind a crate before moving out. Crouched there behind the crates waiting out the crowd Amberosin saw a hooded shadow limping into the distance and she swore she saw him bouncing a pouch full of coins as he did so.


    Gotta be him.


    Every fiber in her being told her to run and leave Blancana for as long as she could with all the food and coins she had stolen, but Amberosin had to see that the stranger was okay. He¡¯d left the pouch for her and she owed him for that kindness.


    ¡°Just a quick peek to make sure he¡¯s alright, maybe leave him some food¡­ maybe ask for some coin¡­ no, no just a peek and then I go.¡±


    She reassured herself vigorously as she crouched low and ran across to the darkened street she¡¯d seen the stranger go down. Amberosin could hear the estate guard quickly walk down the street behind her but refused to look and chance another encounter with Mezir or his grotesquely strong lady friend.


    Shame about her teeth, she would probably be cute otherwise.


    Amberosin could look past the arms, but that woman¡¯s teeth were terrifying, and what they did to her voice¡­


    ¡°The fucking teeth..¡± she shuddered at the thought.


    Clearing her mind of any concerns or distractions Amberosin delved deeper into the shadows after a man who probably didn¡¯t want her around to begin.


    Because she just fucking had to.

 Chapter five

    Chapter Five


    ¡°I just fucking have to, Mezir.¡±


    Heria cringed at how angry and animalistic she sounded, knowing full well that Mezir had only gotten terse asking for her reasoning because of who it was she wanted to pursue; whoever she was. Her rage was irrepressible and she couldn¡¯t even pinpoint why.


    It hurt all the more that she always prided herself on being patient and kind, in contrast to everyone¡¯s view of her as beastlike. Heria¡¯s arms and teeth had brought her nothing but pain and scrutiny, a lonely life assured by her heinous features. Heria hoped at least, that she might be able to get past the way she looked and be happy somewhere, with someone; eventually.


    But the moment she saw that girl slinking into the shadows muttering something about ¡°the fucking teeth,¡± her heavy, fur-covered arms shook ferociously and her monstrous fangs ground into one another. Whether due to embarrassment or hatred for such a slight of pride, Heria was blinded by the need to chase her down. The cut on her wrist from the little shit still ached and throbbed on a good day. It wasn¡¯t easy getting through the hair and armor-like skin of Heria''s forearms, the girl had struck with quick, deadly intent.


    Heria intended to return the favor.


    ¡°Heria¡­¡± Mezir could surely see the rage and pain in her eyes, she knew. The pity in his voice enraged her all the more, though she knew it came from a place of love.


    ¡°Go on.¡± He conceded with a quiet smile, ¡°Just get back to me in one piece. And Heria¡­ bring her in alive.¡± Mezir read the stabbing glare she gave him and added a stern ¡°Please.¡±


    She nodded and sped off into the darkness of the side street, none too happy about the compromise.


    Lucky little shit.


    Heria didn¡¯t quite know what exactly had happened a those weeks ago in North Port but that young woman had sparked something in Mezir. Any other person who dared harm her would be dead at his hands yet now he asks her to stay her own?


    It is what it is.


    ¡°I¡¯ll still have my fun.¡±


    Heria felt her bottom teeth scrape against her upper lip, soft and delicate as any noble woman¡¯s. She felt how the teeth cut through those lips when she smiled, though not even the blood dripping down her chin could put a hamper on Heria¡¯s excitement.


    She loved a good hunt.


    ***


    The food in her pack taunted her endlessly as she searched the western streets littered with pubs and brothels abound. Reserving any judgment on choice of locale, Amberosin hardened her resolution to find the bandaged man; his limp had looked serious and given the dismal condition of the establishments she saw, it was fair to assume the stranger wouldn¡¯t have gone down this street on a good day.


    Or, he''d come here on a really good day.


    Amberosin smirked at herself as she approached a large dirt patch with a lone boulder in its center, like nature¡¯s own small stage. Lenny¡¯s spot. As always, he was sitting there with his head slumped, arms pulled into the shade of his tattered cloak, an empty bottle rocking back and forth between his thighs; wearing the same filth-ridden brown and black pants. Amberosin smiled eagerly and ran up to meet Lenny, hopeful he¡¯d seen the bandaged fellow.


    ¡°Hey-oh¡¯ Lenny. Have any stories about ghosts that limp about and leave behind little gifts for good girls like myself?¡± Lenny silently moved the bottle back and forth between his muck covered thighs, head hidden down in the shadows. Amberosin tensed when Lenny didn¡¯t reply. ¡°No? About this high... Approximately, and well given his demeanor... Probably covered in guard''s blood.¡± The bottle stopped in time with the word "blood."


    Lenny still said nothing. Lenny always had something to say.


    Amberosin peered closer, trying to see his face through thick shadows. Even though a torch was just above them she could only see the drunken man¡¯s mouth; unnervingly enough, it was locked, frozen in a half-smile. The sight made the hairs on her neck stand straight like tiny needles, threatening to push through the skin at any moment. She nearly leaped into the air and abandoned her sack when Lenny¡¯s head snapped over to the left, looking from behind those off-putting shadows to where Amberosin had been only moments before. She attempted to follow his shaded gaze to an exact point, though all she saw was a street consumed in darkness.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    On her way through the first streets of the western sector, Wildlands as locals named it, she¡¯d seen plenty of vagrants, drunkards, and beggars. There had been patrons of brothels and pubs darting about to their dens of desire only moments ago. Not many, but surely more than none. There wasn¡¯t much that could scare off natives of the western sector, nor was there much that scared Amberosin, but those cold, flat, patches of obsidian had a foreboding air. Cold sweats broke out around her hairline and dripped down her temple as she stood there, waiting in front of Lenny to see what the shadows gave birth to; legs tense and ready to spring.


    Her nervous state started her mouth up again.


    ¡°Well, Len, you know if you see something suspicious, you¡¯re supposed to share.¡±


    The chuckle in her voice was pitiful enough to tighten Amberosin¡¯s jaw and Lenny still refused to say a word. His head faced the same spot, so far as she could tell through the unnatural darkness beneath the man¡¯s hood... But the bottle.... Chancing a glance away from the chilling darkness before her, Amberosin eyed the bottle once more. Initially, she thought it had stopped entirely, but the shadow below the bottle moved ever so slightly; no rhythm or fidgety shakes. It moved back and forth in a motion she could only liken to¡­ walking?


    Left roll, right roll, left roll, stop. Left roll, right roll, left roll¡­


    Amberosin couldn¡¯t see Lenny¡¯s thighs moving or body rocking in any way. She¡¯d never seen the drunk cast before but he surely had the imagination for it if he could ever build up a steady supply of essence. Lenny knew nothing of the word impossible. A soft crunch in the empty street broke her nervous meandering. Amberosin looked to Len hoping to follow his line of sight back to a general area but instead found the man staring back at her from behind that seemingly independent darkness. Amberosin could feel the intensity of his gaze.


    He was absolutely trying to tell her something.


    ¡°Here you go Lenny, don¡¯t go spending it all on ale and women ya¡¯ scoundrel.¡±


    Amberosin forced a laugh as she dropped some coins into the space between his thighs, directly next to the bottle with its own cryptic silence. Amberosin¡¯s nerves were already wearing thin when she felt a familiar tension fill the air. Something she likened to the heat of an old fire, ready to roar again. She had barely eaten any of her take, had starved for days before, and if anything only wasted energy walking in search of the bandaged man; but Amberosin was excited. She refused to put her pack down and chance someone running off with it. Amberosin began using the belt of her tunic to wrap the pack to her back, trying her best not to think about how worn the old rope looked. Aware of how short time was she drew both of her gripless daggers and held them out with blades to the sides of her palms, crouched low as she watched the shadows move. Before light had ever shone upon the approaching figure, Amberosin knew who it was.


    The bulking outline gave it all away; a fit, average-sized woman with humongous arms, covered in dreads of hanging shade. The teeth shining under torchlight drove the realization home.


    ¡°Oh, Heria. You big-armed buffoon! The size of your shadow alone gives you away. You should leave the sneaking around in the dead of night to those of us less¡­ uniquely crafted?¡± Amberosin saw the woman¡¯s mouth clench, causing her sharp underfangs to scratch against her upper lip, opening a cut just beside some other recent gash.


    ¡°Yeesh. They tell me Uma¡¯s are fairly savage¡­ but I¡¯d wager not many have seen an Alta quite like you.¡±


    Heria growled and kept moving forward.


    Amberosin winked and sank low as the shadows enveloped the big-armed woman one last time. Waiting for the exact moment Heria first entered the nearest light, Amberosin struck. Even burdened by the bulging pack stuffed with foods and heaving pouches of coins Amberosin¡¯s speed was ferocious. Had Heria not wielded such long and thick arms to guard with, the starving young Nomad would have had her life. Instead of falling beneath the swift blades Heria flung her arms forward and crossed them to meet Amberosin. The sensation reminded Amberosin of when she¡¯d helped her Uncle Ragoth chop wood for the evening and he bet her she couldn¡¯t chop down a WilderOak in three swings; she had bet she could. The pain that cracked crevices down her arms was much the same, only an older stronger Amberosin didn¡¯t drop the vibrating blade as she had done the ax those years ago, she merely tensed her muscles, begging them to push through the shockwave that came and screamed as she focused all her force downwards.


    Fortunately, the minuscule serrations in her blades were able to cut deep through Heria¡¯s thick hide. Amberosin landed crouching, striking at random on her way to the ground, and bounded backward to assess her work. Aside from Heria¡¯s jarring arms and fang-like teeth, Amberosin had to admit the woman was beautiful and she felt a tinge of guilt for mucking up such a lovely, albeit odd, sight. Heria stood still, arms fallen to her sides, and stared at Amberosin with a complete lack of concern.


    ¡°Ah. Almost had me there girly,¡± Heria cast a slight glow over her wounds and stopped the blood instantly, ¡°But you¡¯re a bit shallow for my taste.¡± Heria''s under-fangs scraped just beside her nose in a terrifying grin.


    Shit. Shit on it all¡­ couldn¡¯t notice a few minutes earlier? Oh, why didn¡¯t I just go home and eat?!


    Her head was getting heavy and the world around her was turning slower than it should, telling her she¡¯d definitely overextended herself riding the high of a good take. Amberosin knew what had to be done now. And she hated it. She took a deep breath, stood tall, clenched her daggers still wet with blood... and ran. As Amberosin passed by Lenny she gave a sly smile and bounded up twice before landing on a rooftop across the way. Heria followed behind with superb speed, the air from her passing tossed Lenny¡¯s cloak to his sides.


    Beneath it was a man in bandages, already rising to his feet.

 Chapter six

    Chapter Six


    Patri didn¡¯t count himself an unlucky man.


    Fortune had played its hand many times in his life. To begin with he¡¯d been born to a loving, low-class woman who happened to marry a big dull brute who just barely made it onto The White¡¯s personal guard. Yes, his father worked like a madman and slew like one too, the skill behind that man¡¯s blade kept his family sheltered and fed.


    His death had made them rich.


    Traditionally, when a White¡¯s Guard died, the family was ensured to receive a stipend the same amount as the officer¡¯s salary, however, Patri''s father took a blade for Councilor White when a Trallen delegate had gone into a drunken rage at the councilor''s remark. Policy in Blancana stated no guard could assault a diplomat without verbal command, which was never given. To accommodate his father''s brave sacrifice knowing there would be no retribution publicly, Patri and his mother were given a very large sum of money which came with a brand new estate. Yes, they were granted a great gift of fortune. In the end, it killed his mother. She couldn¡¯t bury her sorrows in anything or anyone she possessed and keeping silent about her late husband proved to be too much.


    A young Patri could see it tearing his mother apart; saw clearly in her eyes the moment she had decided it was all too much. The servants found her body a month after he turned sixteen, arranged her funeral, and relinquished to him the entire estate. A young boy as wealthy as an entire low-noble family was more than enough to draw attention in Blancana in those days.Mainly the attention of thieves.


    He was absolutely fortunate though, as some of the... kinder thieves had found Patri, worked with him on how to launder discreetly, and went on their merry way without gutting the young boy. He¡¯d become a major resource for them and they always paid him back in kind. That lasted until the war when Grand Councilor White had declared all thieves guilds and Nomads guilty of aiding in an unsuccessful rebellion against the White and his "progress".


    Blood had rolled down the cobblestone streets and marbled roads for days on end, mingling with the ash of countless fires; until Patri was the only guild member left. Yet again, fortune smiled on him. Before they found Patri and executed him like rotten livestock, a mysterious, beautiful Senfe had come barrelling in and knocked the lucky bastard unconscious before dragging him away. She had wanted to see who was considered the last ¡°true thief¡± of Blancana, pissed that they hadn¡¯t considered her, evidently. Since then, with Senfe by his side, he¡¯d remained master of the only thief guild left in Blancana, ¡®The Tainted¡¯.


    No, Patri didn¡¯t consider himself an unlucky man, nor a fortunate one. More or less, Patri considered himself a simple man who had been born into extraordinary circumstances and made enough bad decisions to keep things interesting all the while. When Amberosin had decided to cut him all to shit, each meager slice and vulgar gash seemingly on one vital point or another, Patri had thought his life was finally over. Patri knew how much the young woman had lost to SynthEs, how much they¡¯d all lost since it¡¯s widespread introduction; having her nearly kill him wasn¡¯t fair. Not to either of them. Patri had faded into blackness after the last cut, warm and welcoming, for what seemed a mere moment before being ravaged by reality.


    ¡°Five full fucking days you laze about, all for some stupid ten-minute thrill.¡±


    Senfe scolded him from the corner of his room, nearly scaring Patri to the point of passing right back out. She only laughed at the paled, silent shock on his face and that laugh brought Patri back to himself, as always. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    ¡°Aye, I¡¯ll take a five-day nap over ten minutes of your harping, my love.¡±


    Patri couldn¡¯t help but smile at her through the burning of each cut and throbbing of every fresh hole that would soon add to his collection of scars, he felt peace knowing that they were still the same. Senfe had slowly walked over to his bedside in a dramatic and slow fashion as not to startle him again. Her weight had just hit the bed behind him when she leaned close against his back with a soft chin on Patri''s scar pocked shoulders and spoke directly into his ear.


    ¡°She saved your life with all those holes ya¡¯ know? I didn¡¯t get it at first, actually thought she was just pissed off enough to end you, but guess what? You didn¡¯t have a single puke or shiver coming off that nasty shit. You owe her.¡±


    Creator did he. As soon as he was healed enough to venture and fight on his own Patri set out to find Amberosin. Bounding across rooftops and into the depths of each alley, nook, and cranny of Blancana, Patri searched tirelessly. By the fourth night searching, he felt ready to call it off. That night, as a last-ditch effort, Patri had gone off to ask Ole Lenny Loose-lips if he had seen Amberosin around recently.


    Lenny had been an informant for everyone in his prime. He informed the guilds, the Dwellers rebellion, city guard, and anyone else with enough coins. That all stopped just before the Fracturing when Councilor White enacted a new city guard; no telling what poor ole Lenny had seen on the streets following White¡¯s ¡®Nu¡¯ Decrees¡¯.


    Patri eventually spotted the drunken tale spinner about a street down from where Patri often had his own drinks. Len had been mumbling rather loudly to himself as Patri made his approach so neither had heard the hooded man walking down the southern road; fortunately, Patri spotted him doing his usual peek around for any unfriendly shadows before he got too close. Hoping he hadn¡¯t been seen by either man yet, Patri dove behind a nearby stone wall and kept silent; the old guild leader recognized a thick metallic smell on the bandaged stranger. Patri could only barely hear them from where he lay and inched over to try and sneak a look at the two.


    ¡°Huh? All that¡­ for.. For what, uh, sir? I didn¡¯t¡­ I didn¡¯t do anything for you.¡±


    Lenny had stammered and stuttered through but even his drunkenness couldn¡¯t drown out the elation in his voice.


    ¡°For this spot¡­. And my cloak? Fuck yeah friend!¡±


    Patri had gotten to the small stone walls edge in time to see Lenny throw his cloak to the stranger and run down the street like a man possessed. Patri didn¡¯t let his eyes leave the bandaged man and after a few minutes sitting in a way that mimicked Len flawlessly, the bandages began to shift, to fade, and swirl out of existence until an image of Lenny sat beneath a heavy shadow.


    Patri nearly lost himself thinking about how useful such a skill could be to the guild when he saw Amberosin sprinting from the shadows. Patri feared she would find him hiding there like a cretin and that was not where he wanted to start their next interaction. It took every fiber of his numb, tense, exhausted body not to spring up and run when yet another figure approached from the southern shadows only moments later.


    ¡°Oh for fucksake, the youngin has lost her mind.¡±


    Even he could see that Amberosin wasn¡¯t feeling well and knew that the sack she had tied around her was likely a desperate last-ditch effort to survive, yet there she was facing the Heria; Mezir¡¯s second in command. Patri cursed the hooded man for not intervening as the Alta and Amberosin collided. Amberosin could not cast and was obviously relying on a waning ferocity; any decent person would help. Well, almost any.


    By the time Patri resolved to join the fray for the young woman himself, she was gone, Heria chasing after her with unbelievable speed. Before they¡¯d even gone out of view the bandaged stranger had stood, looking like himself once more, and started his way after them as he shot Patri a quick salute freezing Patri''s blood.


    He knew. He knew the whole time. Patri''s slightly wrinkled cheeks burned furiously and he now had no choice but to tag along if he was going to retain any sense of self-respect.

 Chapter seven

    Chapter Seven


    Mezir''s De Blancana¡¯s feet were covered up to their tops in warmth from the pool of crimson gore about the grounds. He had given few commands and issued only two orders while examining every stray piece of dirt, every shadow or crevice the killer could have bounded to. He saw the guards around him, some that were in his company, others that had been on the scene already, and still more piled onto the scene. They all looked forlorn and sickened; he could hardly blame them.


    Gore continued to ooze down from the massive wall and towers above, it persisted in a thick membrane of red and pink on many windows about the street. Guards were walking into what seemed like the epicenter of a small, bloody tornado, and none looked too happy about it. He lingered on the faces of the fallen guards for a moment, his fallen guards. The true Mezir would have seen what happened. But he could not; not alone. No matter the interface of the helmet within or his own immaculate wit, the imposter saw only carnage. What he could see, however, were the people around him slowly sinking into despair.


    None of the guards on the scene could focus long enough to gather any real information, their own feelings of confused disgust had nearly consumed them. The imposter knew he needed to act if anything were to come of this investigation aside from a morose party of soldiers. From far behind his mask, in the portions of his mind that were generally kept buried and bolted beneath layers of willful ignorance, he conjured something the true Mezir had once said.


    ¡° We are cast down, lost in a world of blood and darkness... We are, but we are here not alone. We are here surrounded by allies. So I beseech you, dear friends, to feel the warmth of those beside you and cast your gaze skyward. Keep your eyes to our dear Mothers above. They will guide you through,¡± the imposter added his own line at the end, ¡° I will reap your vengeance.¡±


    He hadn¡¯t even noticed he was speaking out loud until the soldiers¡¯ heads were moving with him in agreement. The mask became stationed upwards while he remembered the feel of the original Mezir''s presence and willed the peace that came with it upon the others. He froze just after his eyes passed the towers above. One of the bodies had shifted and a second figure slid out from beneath it, heaving and spewing bile in a puddle before them.


    ¡°Look always onwards!¡±


    The bravado behind his voice this time elicited a quick cheering salute from the guards as he sprang upwards, using his essence to propel him up to the towers atop the wall. A fierce smile painted the masked man''s lips. Yes, he was the mask, and the mask was he.


    Mezir De Blancana landed with a trained silence, refusing to even disturb the puddling blood and gore with so much as a ripple. Down at his fee,t still retching in dry heaves of shock and disgust, a young Watcher gripped her fists tight and sobbed. He let her do so for a moment before clearing his throat ever so gently.


    ¡°Excuse me, miss?¡±


    The woman¡¯s head snapped up as she tried to stand and ready herself. Slick oozing gore sent her back down to her knees before she ever looked up and realized who stood awaiting a reply.


    ¡°Sir, apologies, I am so sorry I just..¡± A paleness had overtaken the woman that looked entirely out of place on her golden-brown skin.


    Mezir shook his head and knelt down, taking her face in his hand, he raised the shaken Watcher¡¯s chin until her eyes were staring straight into the blank face of his mask.


    ¡° Accolate Watcher Marina,¡± he recited the name as it appeared on an invisible screen before him, ¡°You have nothing to apologize for. You need only rest now... but before I send you on your way, I must ask, is there anything you can tell me? About what happened or who did this?¡±


    Marina shot her eyes down again and bit her lip as if holding back an answer.


    ¡°If you are worried I will not believe you, remember, you¡¯re talking to a man who walked through the Void of Spirits and left unscathed.¡± His hands moved out in an exaggerated manner. ¡°I have seen some things in my time.¡± Mezir¡¯s gentle chuckle seemed to ease her tension slightly and Marina¡¯s eyes found his mask once more.


    ¡°Fantastic, simply fantastic. Come here, dear.¡± Her hand grabbed his, smearing dulled crimson onto his pearlescent gloves. Marina¡¯s eyes locked on the gored gloves and she stammered once more,


    ¡°Oh I-I am so sorry, Sir.¡±


    ¡°Ah.¡± He sighed gently. ¡°No more apologies, remember?¡±


    Mezir¡¯s mask tilted towards Marina and a light glow returned to her sickened skin.


    ¡°Walk with me to the lower levels. We¡¯ll talk on the way down and you can get cleaned up before we dive into any real questions. I¡¯ll only take a few moments and then you can have your rest.¡± His voice carried the sound of his false smile outwards, beyond the mask.


    Mezir had always relished in helping others, in their gratitude, and in knowing they were better off for having encountered him. Mezir would readily offer a hand to anyone no matter the circumstance... but the red-haired man¡­. The man beneath the mask¡­ he had little patience for it. Saw it as a waste of time. Only great determination kept his facade alive all the way down the death ridden tower. Marina seemed more at ease and less shaken by the time they reached a quaint Watcher¡¯s cove deep within the wall and Mezir opted to wait outside her quarters while she bathed and changed, only taking a matter of ten minutes or so. When she opened the door to let him in she appeared to have some more of her color back and sported a new set of white cloaks.


    ¡°Thank you for hurrying on my account, Accolate Marina.¡±


    Mezir kept his voice light and calm.


    ¡°I figured you¡¯d be having a busy night. Sir.¡±


    ¡°Ah, you figured right I¡¯m afraid. As such, I¡¯ll try my best to keep to ¡®yes or no¡¯ questions for now. Fair?¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Marina smiled just at the corners of her lips but her breathing was still shaky. She clasped her hands tight and set them in her lap before she nodded to reassure herself.


    ¡°Absolutely fantastic. Alright. Did you see what happened?¡± Start easy.


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    Marina¡¯s eyes grew distant for a moment and Mezir waited patiently. The man beneath the mask wanted to scream but quelled it by focusing on the young woman¡¯s lovely green eyes. He kept his act up until she finally shook her head.


    ¡°Good, good. Was it a group of attackers?¡± Ask what you already know.


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Oh, so one then? My word..¡± Mezir¡¯s mask turned to the side for a moment in thought. Let them think they¡¯ve given you something. Boost their confidence. White¡¯s voice guided him the whole way.


    ¡°One... man?¡± When you don¡¯t know, guess.


    ¡°Yes. I think.¡±


    Mezir¡¯s mask turned back towards her and caught a glimpse of anger before she softened once more, staring at the aged floorboards of her cove.


    ¡°Well bright side is we only have to find one culprit, huh? Makes the chances of success exponentially higher in my experience.¡± He threw in a small crescendo at the end of his chuckle, snapping her eyes upwards once more. Focus.


    ¡°Alright Marina, just a few more questions and I am gone, gonna need a little more than ¡®yes or no¡¯ though.¡±


    She only nodded in reply.


    ¡° What did he look like?¡±


    The shaken young Watcher cleared her throat, took a long drink of water, and sucked in a shaky breath before she spoke, ¡°At first, he looked like a shadow, a trick of the eye¡­ we all thought Drodin was insane when he took off to the guardhouse... until the man struck. When he did¡­ he burst into an explosion of color; bandaged from head to toe. Never seen anything like it.¡±


    Mezir wondered if he hadn¡¯t heard a hint of awe in Marina¡¯s voice.


    ¡°A colorful man made of shadow and darkness... What colors were on his bandages? Assuming you could tell from so high up.¡± Mezir¡¯s teardrop mask dipped downwards slightly, a playful nod to apologize, ¡°I jest Marina, even an accolade Watcher surely has superior vision to my own.¡±


    The young guard couldn¡¯t help but grin at his praise, emerald eyes slowly regaining light, and her next words held a bit more life in them.


    ¡°The colors of the Venerable, the Ta¡¯. Sir.¡±


    Once more she paled, though only slightly. ¡°And Sir. I saw him leave. He levitated... Like a true specter. I was crushed under-¡± Marina¡¯s eyes grew wide and a single tear tore down her cheek, ¡° Crushed under senior Watcher Jo¡¯r who dove in front of me to block the bolts of lightning, but I still saw when he landed and limped away.¡± Marina¡¯s eyes were clearer now, her hands shaking violently in her lap. ¡°He went west sir, towards the Wildlands.¡±


    Why did west make his heart race...west¡­. Heria had gone west!


    Mezir rose and bolted from the table without another word. He cast essence into his legs, lighting the attachments on the back of his boots aglow with a mixture of blindingly bright red and greens. Nothing more than streaks as he passed by the guards and horrified onlookers.


    ¡°Please, please let them both be safe.¡±


    He sent a prayer to the Creator above and headed west, down the same dark alley he had seen Heria take. The imposter¡¯s legs ached viciously from the exertion casting caused, despite the he got from the attachments humming against his calves. Mezir wasn''t sure where to go exactly but there had to have been someone that had seen Heria; she wasn''t exactly easy to miss. About two streets into the western store, aptly nicknamed the "Wildlands", Mezir¡¯s mask finally targeted someone on the street; a drunken beggar stumbling back to his nightly abode, mumbling to himself.


    ¡°Guessin¡¯ he smelled worse than booze already and needed some rest. Heh heh. Ah well, paid my tab, starting over¡­ tomorrow.¡±


    The vagrant fell face-first onto the ground which kept the mask from identifying him and more importantly kept the false Mezir from being able to fully come to a stop, forcing the speeding imposter to throw his side into the nearest building in hopes of curbing his speed just enough to avoid splattering the drunk across the next few streets. The teardrop mask and pristine armor saved him from any real damage but the quaint building he¡¯d slammed into had a new gaping man shaped window beside its shabby door. Through the clamoring armor, rising dust, and crumbling stone, the drunk still slept in the middle of the road, snoring in pure bliss.


    Mezir. Be Mezir damnit. Get up. Get ahead of it.


    Already residents and the squalor that existed beside them in alleyways were making their way into the street. Some curious or afraid, others looking for any opportunity to score some coin; those greedy eyes soon fell flat when they realized who was standing amongst the rubble. Mezir De Blancana. He lied to himself once more. He fed that lie to the hungry crowd of hesitant onlookers. Raising a hand to the back of his mask he rubbed it gingerly and addressed his audience.


    ¡°Sorry, all, for the disturbance. Rest assured this will be repaired and paid for by my own men and coin.¡±


    Though none held weapons drawn in the dark crevices he could see many rested their hands on hilts at the mention of coins, an instinct of the poor and broken that he knew all too well. Nearly every home on the street had a hole at least the size of the one he had made with his body. Every other structure seemed to be a pub or brothel; profitable businesses for the owners alone. Mezir would have stayed to clear the mess and personally put coins in the poor folk''s hands. The man behind the mask didn¡¯t have the time. He walked with his back tall and legs swift, despite their strained protest at his every step, until he stood beside the slumbering drunk.


    ¡°Anyone aware of where this lovely, uh... person prefers to sleep.¡± His voice was propelled by es-tech to everyone in his sight, making the sound of Mezir¡¯s voice seem almost ethereal, unbelievable. It tended to make others very agreeable.


    Mezir wouldn¡¯t have liked that.


    But the masked man did. He hated that he enjoyed it so much but it was something his former self, his true self, could never do; command attention. He reveled in the way their ears perked and arms went straighter, ready to hear what he had to say. Even the thieves and cutthroats seemed to grant him a more sincere form of attention. He craved it.


    ¡°That¡¯d be Lenny sir.¡± A wide-eyed young boy spoke from his mother¡¯s side, not two doors down from the home Mezir had damaged. ¡°He sleeps there, beneath that light almost every night.¡± The child sheepishly raised a shaky finger and pointed towards a worn down pub at the end of the road with a sign hanging above it that read ¡°The Brown Halo¡±.


    Charming.


    ¡°Thank you ever so much son, I appreciate you.¡±


    He considered throwing the boy a coin or two but knew that it would mark his family¡¯s end the moment he left. Instead, he simply picked Lenny up from the road and gingerly limped to the light before he placed Lenny in his usual spot, leaning him ever so slightly against the doorframe of the establishment, gave a small bow to the boy from afar, and walked on. The attachments on the back of his legs hummed, mingling with the whispers of the gathered rabble until both faded into a weighted silence. It took him far too long to hear the clanging of steel and repeated thudding of what he knew to be Heria¡¯s mad fists.


    The man¡¯s agonized legs couldn¡¯t sprint, even jog, but as quickly as they allowed, he followed the sounds. Dread growing with every heavy step.

 Chapter eight

    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    As expected.


    <div>


    <div>


    Patri¡¯s... life in an instant. He knew why this guild leader passionately sought the woman from the Wilders, Amberosin, and that he feared Heria the Alta. He could feel the man¡¯s love for his partner, someone named Senfe, blooming with heat in his own chest.


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    Amberosin. He let the images from Patri¡¯s life flash before his eyes and pinpointed her in his memories as his feet glided across the increasingly pristine marble streets.


    <div>


    Just hold on a few more minutes. Please.

 Chapter nine

<div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>

 Chapter ten

    Chapter Ten


    Patri had never been more relieved in his life than when the mystical bandaged fellow had let Heria go without further conflict. Just a swift kick to the gut and a wave of his framework hand sent Heria on her way in a trance-like state, muttering to herself all the while. If Amberosin had not been so severely injured Patri was sure the man would have sprung like a coiled viper and ended the terrifying Alta woman. The air around him had changed as soon as Heria was in sight. A dark, heavy feeling emitted off of the bandaged man like another, terrifying presence altogether. Rage, fear, and sorrow were all embedded deep within the stranger, all things Patri now knew. All because of a mingling of essence that Patri never even thought was possible. He¡¯d worked up the energy and courage to ask his new friend about the incident while they carried Amberosin and her bulging pack through dark alleyways, over stone fences and marble courtyards that cost inexplicably more than southern districts homes altogether.


    ¡°What was that? When we.. connected?¡±


    Patri¡¯s face contorted in utter confusion, he was sure that wasn¡¯t the word he was looking for. ¡°Connected¡± didn¡¯t feel strong enough to him. Entwined? Something about that notion made him blush a little. The bandaged stranger had merely shrugged his broad shoulders, took more of Amberosin¡¯s weight, and nodded to Patri to go ahead of him. He felt more than inclined to listen to what this mysterious man wanted and in all fairness, Patri had suggested the hideout, so it only made sense that he go ahead first.


    Stifling his myriad of questions, such as what the hell had he done to Heria, the guild leader sunk to his knees and began picking a lock situated on an obscenely thick back door to the shop Amberosin had nearly bled him dry to keep tabs on when it was just an empty plot. Bless her.


    Patri¡¯s calloused hands had them inside within minutes.


    They¡¯d situated Amberosin on a table nearest their entrance, swiping it¡¯s contents to the floor in a metallic clatter. Immediately the bandaged man held his metal hands over the young woman, and though Patri saw nothing, he could feel essence charging the air all around them. A small crackle of light escaped beneath the mystic stranger and Amberosin stirred, waking for but a moment before returning back to sleep he hoped was well taken. She would need it if she was ever going to recover. Patri could see where her ribs had become misshapen and threatened to break through Amberosin¡¯s dirtied skin.


    An hour of silence watching the man do his invisible work sent Patri into a fitful sleep of his own. A soft clanging of dropped metals nearby was the last sound he heard before being consumed by lovely visions of Senfa laying atop him, stroking his hair, smiling like the blessing she was. Only the backdrop changed, never their faces; always happy, complacent. Patri¡¯s private utopia on repeat. A wonderful loop that was ultimately cut short by a soft light peeking over the solitary window to the front of the shop. Consciousness came upon him all at once and the soft light that had danced sweetly across his eyelids set his cornea aflame. Through excessive blinking, rubbing, and involuntary cursing, Patri spotted the bandaged stranger sitting cross-legged with his back as straight as a line. The man¡¯s metallic palms lay flat before him while the fingers had split apart and spun around one another weaving intertwining paths of light. They made no sound.


    Meditating? Or is he just screwing around because he¡¯s bored?


    Patri cleared his throat to try and get some reaction from the man but it didn¡¯t seem to faze him. It had, however, gotten the attention of an unfathomably spry Amberosin who stood stretching with a pleased smile.


    ¡°Had a mind to leave you here to be found if you didn¡¯t stir from those wet dreams of yours soon, Pat. Glad you came to before we headed out.¡±


    Amberosin shot him a playful wink, which meant he¡¯d mostly been forgiven for his idiocy weeks ago. Patri¡¯s heart raced alongside his still sleep laden mind as he tried to piece together how she stood in front of him without a visible wound left on her body. She seemed not only healed, but reinvigorated. Amberosin¡¯s fatigue had all but vanished and color bloomed once more atop her gold-tinted umber skin. Skin that appeared to be a sight more clean than it was before. No amount of casting should¡¯ve healed her so completely.


    ¡°How fucking long was I out? You shouldn¡¯t be awake let alone..¡±


    Patri¡¯s eyebrows scrunched together as he looked her over. Amberosin gave a mocking courtesy and quick chuckle.


    ¡°Our friend here-¡± she gestured to the wrapped meditating man with a slight nod, ¡°pieced me all back together within an hour or so. I woke to you snoring and this miracle worker spinning his fingers around like a mad man. Pretty sure he¡¯s casting but¡­ no glow, so..¡±


    Amberosin¡¯s shoulders rose and fell with an ease Patri envied.


    ¡°To be young, I suppose... Either way, glad to see you feeling well. Truthfully, I was sure you¡¯d be drowning in your own blood by morning, just didn¡¯t want to make chatter-mouth over there feel down about it.¡±


    Patri laughed off his many questions and concerns with ease. A talent that had taken years to perfect.


    The young woman he¡¯d heard horrifying wet gasps from only hours before was rifling through her pack with abandon, making sure neither man had made away with her items. Smart girl. He smiled and shook his head, not like he would be dumb enough to steal from her. It was fairly well known throughout his small guild that she was untouchable, if only because she would gut anyone who stood between her and a mark. Patri not excluded.


    Amberosin¡¯s head cocked to the side as she pulled out a small golden key.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t use this to get in?¡±


    Stifling a frustration, Patri knew to be part of what Senfe called his ¡°morning persona¡±, he gave a short laugh and pulled out his set of lockpicks.


    ¡°Proper thieving has its perks, believe it or not.¡±


    The small key spun on her index finger, ¡°Or,¡± her smile widened enough to show canines sharpened past the point of normalcy, ¡°You neglected to even look for a key in my pack.¡±


    ¡°Ha! As if I¡¯d ever go near a pack of yours.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right you won¡¯t.¡±


    Amberosin¡¯s laughter rang out in the empty shop but Patri knew she was serious as ever. She could unnerve him a bit at times with her seemingly incessant optimism, though, there was no doubt it helped her survive as long as she had. Almost a necessity for someone in her shoes.


    He couldn¡¯t tell if the growing grin was meant to be playful or threatening, though Patri often wondered if there was a difference with Amberosin. Her eyes always seemed dangerous to him behind those tinted shades. Even as she quickly took inventory of her own belongings he could see the young woman¡¯s gaze cast about the floor to every corner, searching for anything that may come in handy later. Patri rose slowly, struggling not to groan so loud as he would on a normal morning. Best to not let Amberosin know just how old he was getting, his casting kept him healthy and young for much longer than he should have been but all things degraded with time. He and Amberosin were friendly enough as it went but to one another each was competition for food and a feeble sense of solace, so it was best to keep a few things close to his own chest.


    After a scattered series of pops and cracks about his body, Patri finally noticed the floor around the table where there should have been a metallic mess from their hasty entrance. Or had he imagined that? Amberosin¡¯s contents had been on display and he¡¯d seen no fancy silverware or small daggers anywhere. Every merchant sold daggers of one sort or another in Blancana. Common folk seemed to collect them regularly, displaying them like nobles would ornate greatswords or maces who all claimed their lovely weapons had been used by some Legend or another.


    He couldn¡¯t see all of the shop¡¯s wares in the dim lighting but of what he could make out, there were no reflections glinting off of short blades. Only a few foods and baubles from some island far beyond Noctra¡¯s shores remained after Amberosin¡¯s heist.


    Solas rose higher and higher with each passing moment, giving the old thief a cold sweat beneath his cloak. Patri¡¯s every instinct was to run and hide before the owner came back but looking at the bandaged man he knew he couldn¡¯t do it. The stranger had saved Amberosin¡¯s life. It just didn¡¯t feel right leaving him; perhaps because the man¡¯s heart was still burned to the back of Patri¡¯s eyelids, calling him to stay by the bandaged stranger. Seeing as Amberosin hadn¡¯t bounded out of a window, Patri assumed she felt much the same. Her pack was ready on her shoulder but those goggled eyes of hers were aimed at the cross legged man. Waiting for his next move.


    Still as stone, he sat. Those framework hands of his spinning with a slight crackle of light here or there. Silent.


    ¡°He¡¯s awake. If you were wondering¡±


    Amberosin spoke through a mouthful of a juicy fruit, taken directly from a rack nearby. Not one to waste a chance to eat, Patri nodded to her.


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    Patri caught an orange that was tossed only a little too hard, choosing to ignore how much his hand ached from his agonizing climb the night before.


    Without so much as a glance in the stranger¡¯s direction, the young woman threw a perfectly round, ruby red apple, aimed at the nape of his neck. Merely feet away it should have been impossible for the man to stop the edible projectile. But he did. Patri hadn¡¯t even gotten to yell out before the apple stopped, floating just behind the bandaged man, rotating slowly. It dropped low and circled around his wrapped body. After a moment it floated to the man¡¯s mouth, Patri heard a soft crunching, and saw bandages scrunched around the strangers neck. The stranger was exposed and Patri wanted desperately to chance a peek at the man¡¯s exposed mouth but desired avoiding his ire even more.


    Amberosin gave Patri a smug smile.


    ¡°That¡¯s his fourth this morning.¡± She shamelessly peered around his shoulder and frowned dramatically. ¡°Casts a shadow over his mouth every single time. I assume he is monstrous because of it. Only seems logical.¡± Once more she grinned from ear to ear.


    Patri could see the man¡¯s shoulders move in what he swore was a slight chuckle, it seemed the two had bonded in their short time together as well. When his gray cloak fluttered on the sides Patri could spot the inner design of the strangers clothing. The wrappings around the man were definitely Ta¡¯ with their bright alternating colors, but that cloak was something even more impressive in Patri¡¯s mind. A Matra Dreadbeast coat lined the underside of his cloak, hood and all. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Alpha to all alphas.


    ¡°I¡¯d play nice with him, girl. He¡¯s wearing some dangerous marks there.¡±


    Patri felt like a chastising father. A particularly useless one at that. She knew how to take care of herself and if the strange man tried anything with her Patri was sure she could tear him limb from limb. Almost. She scoffed and sat atop the table that still had drying puddles of her blood.


    ¡° I¡¯ve got quite the dangerous mark myself Pat.¡±


    Amberosin pointed at the white scar just below her right eye. He felt a tinge of shame for being so ignorant.


    ¡° Right.. Sorry. He seems like a good enough man to me. Very trustworthy face.¡±


    All three gave their own small laughs. A soft chorus in the quiet shop.


    Silence made Patri uncomfortable, always had and he knew exactly what the trio should discuss next. ¡°So, are we all ready to go? I¡¯ve got a proper bed to get back to.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, and a proper lady you don¡¯t deserve waiting for you in it huh?¡±


    Amberosin knew him better than even she was aware, he bet.


    ¡°Though I can¡¯t say I don¡¯t agree there Patty. I¡¯d rather not be around when Mr. Schuri gets in. He¡¯s got a keen eye for when something is missing.. So I¡¯ve been told.¡±


    A playful look flashed across her face and Patri gathered she might have worked at the shop for a short while before hitting it. Calm and calculated like a professional beyond her years.


    Patri couldn¡¯t resist.


    ¡°Amberosin... Before we scatter back to our corners, I gotta ask again. Join us? You don¡¯t have to stay at a guildhouse or anything like that, we aren¡¯t quite so¡­ sophisticated as that. The main thing is, someone always has your back kid.¡±


    She hesitated, she always did. Every. Single.Time. Patri couldn¡¯t help but think of how much money she¡¯d bring in- and her continued safety, of course. Come on kid.


    ¡°No, thanks, but I¡¯m good for now. I think I owe this gentleman for saving my life. Seems he''s here on a mission of some sort, all focused and quiet as he is. Figure I¡¯ll help him with that and¡­. we¡¯ll be even. Yeah?¡±


    The bandaged man waited only a moment before giving a single, resolute nod.


    Simple as that. No idea the mission or who the man was. Completely insane. The young woman was just like her mother. Patri didn¡¯t argue though, just smiled with a quick nod of his own.


    ¡°Well then, I will be on my way. Stay safe, you two. You are welcome to stop by the guildhouse anytime.¡±He turned to leave out the back of the shop, figuring he didn¡¯t want to be roaming the streets in brisk morning light, given his reputation. A quick and subtle click stopped him in his tracks. Someone was coming in the front, their shadow visible through an opaque glass door depicting a visage of a ship on raging seas.


    Patri and Amberosin shot down to their knees and found cover near the back door, ready to escape as soon as they got the chance. The wrapped stranger didn¡¯t move a muscle. His framework hands still spun.


    What...the fuck?


    An eternity crawled by as Schuri¡¯ fiddled with his lock. Patri poured an uncomfortable sweat down his body like a swollen rain cloud, luckily his thief¡¯s eyes had finally shook off their crust laden sleep and locked on to something just in front of the stranger; a clear jar with silver dust in it. Filled to the brim. Patri wasn¡¯t positive, but he thought blades would make dust around the same color. But how do you turn blades into dust? Every second with this man gave him more questions. In part, it was invigorating, though mostly, it was tiring.


    The shadows in front of the door multiplied and even from the back of the shop they could hear muffled voices on the other side. Schuri¡¯ wasn¡¯t alone and whoever was with him did not sound all that happy. Amberosin looked concerned until she realized Patri was looking at her, immediately she put on a mischievous smile and winked as she moved to sit next to the stranger. He only looked her way and bowed his head slightly before sitting up right once more.


    A small bell rang as a crowd of White¡¯s guard poured in, one by one. Ding ding. First to come in was Mr. Schuri, a round bellied man with creme skin and icy blue eyes that had a natural squint to them. His hair seemed to be darker than the pitch black of an eclipse, falling down to his shoulders. The merchant¡¯s cheeks were burning red and sweat beaded down his chin as the soldiers piled in.


    One person at a time. Ding ding. At the tail end of ten soldiers eached armed with straight blades holstered on their hips was a towering figure draped in a pure white cloak that shone like a beacon under the soft light of dawn. His mask rose into two rounded points on either side, a glossy platinum white orb with horns that lit up with the telltale streams of active estech. The man made Patri¡¯s blood run cold, had ever since he was a child.


    ¡°Lord White.¡± Schuri¡¯ bowed his head and held his arms out wide. ¡°This is my humble shop and while it may not be up to the standards of your own great creations, I am sure I could find you something of interest, if you like.¡±


    Lord White simply looked around without saying a word. Poor Schuri went green with the color of bile. Patri breathed a sigh of relief when out spewed more words instead.


    ¡°I must say, I¡¯m very honored to have someone of your esteem visit my establishment. I haven¡¯t been here long-¡±


    A gloved hand rose from beneath the horned Lord¡¯s cape, cutting off the merchant¡¯s words like a well oiled blade.


    ¡°Grand Councilor or simply White will do, friend. ¡®Lord¡¯ makes me think of those gaudy nobles I¡¯ll be enduring in pointless meetings for the rest of my days. Once again, perhaps for the first time, I am very sorry to intrude. Usually my son, Mezir, would be doing this work but after last night I figured he is deserving of some rest.¡±


    Lord White let the words hang for a moment, to Schuri¡¯s obvious discomfort.


    ¡°Oh, is.. Is your son well?¡±


    Patri assumed the merchants bumbling convinced their humble Grand Councilor he was trustworthy, only because White didn¡¯t slay him then and there.


    ¡°He is fine, only exhausted from a lengthy investigation.¡±


    Once more he left the short statement out in the open. Still a little untrusting of the merchant, it seemed. Whatever it was that had happened likely hadn¡¯t been made public, officially at least.


    ¡°Investigation?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He sounded almost disappointed in the man¡¯s ignorance. ¡°We had many guards slain last night in a horrific display, further south.¡± His cape fell past his feet and laid out across the floor around him, wide enough to keep most a few feet away. It drug behind him as he slowly turned, eyeing out the wares in the store. ¡°Many are beginning to think of it as a message of sorts, I suppose. Really just a troubling display. Violent vagrants who¡¯ve been squatting in the wild like animals.¡±


    Lord White¡¯s horned mask shook from side to side.


    ¡°I am sorry, Grand Councilor, is there some way that¡­ that I can help with this matter?¡±


    Patri found the man¡¯s confusion to be entirely justified. Why would the official leader of Blancana, unofficial ruler of Noctra, come to a lowly merchants shop while investigating a murder scene in an entirely different district?


    ¡°Only by allowing myself and my men to look around quickly before you open. Three culprits fled north and were last seen heading towards the port. We have mobilized most of our soldiers in pursuit, these are some very dangerous people we are after and we would rather not take any chances. As such we are searching every building be it home or establishment on the port for their presence. My lieutenants will be questioning your neighbors within the hour in the same exact manner, dear Mr. Schuri.¡±


    ¡°Why, yes, yes of course, sir!¡± Schuri¡¯s hands waved around the shop frantically, ¡°Nothing is off limits. And if you find anything that catches your eye do let me know, I usually don¡¯t sell before taking stock, but there can be exceptions for such esteemed guests!¡±


    Something wasn¡¯t right about what White had said. Supposedly, guards and soldiers were storming Blancana and questioning everyone but he didn¡¯t hear any marching or commands. There was no sound outside apart from a few merchants shuffling to their shops. His hearing had always been impeccable so he knew when to get nervous. Now was the time. Patri¡¯s sweat had turned to quickly drying ice upon his skin as he considered just what would happen to him if he were found aiding someone who¡¯d murdered guards. Amberosin was across the aisle, watching White with an enormous intensity. Good thing their mutual friend was there, otherwise she may break and-


    Shit.


    The bandaged stranger was gone. His small jar of silver dust had followed him, though a single framework hand still spun in place.


    Shit. Shit. Fucking smeared shit.


    Patri couldn¡¯t believe what a fool he had been, trusting the man because he had ¡°seen his heart¡±. Unbelievable- as if a lifetime spent with vagabonds and filthy criminals didn¡¯t teach him the value of skepticism.


    I hope I see the cowardly bastard on the streets later, he won''t make it far without-


    A quick movement to his right ended the man¡¯s internal fuming. He¡¯d almost missed it. Just the slightest flicker below a nearby window. He¡¯s there. Patri couldn¡¯t see him but he knew the bandaged man was there. His old theive¡¯s bones could feel him.


    What the hell was he thinking? The window was closer to White and his fanatic estate guards, the opposite of the direction they needed to go. Patri thought on the man¡¯s heart once more, patches of swirling obsidian littered about it. He wasn¡¯t too well versed in matters of the heart, especially when it was literally right before his eyes, but he figured those rots could only be so many things. Man probably had more than enough reason to be hateful or depressed, though Patri was certain it was vengeance that plagued his heart so. A vengeance Patri was sure more than a few others shared.


    Patri felt his own rage at Lord White swell once again, a burning he¡¯d suppressed for his own sanity and survival. He understood how the wrapped Ta¡¯ felt but there was no way to tell what he was thinking, what his plan was. They were lacking in weapons, even with the stranger''s obvious skill, they were outnumbered and with White present they were sorely outmatched. White didn¡¯t rise to Grand Councilor without a good scrape or two. As far as Patri understood the man was a true living Legend and had battled on the frontlines of every war Noctra had known. Most thought him immortal. None of Patri¡¯s informants had been able to dispute it. Anything Patri could get his hands on supported it.


    He didn¡¯t have much interest in fighting a god, no matter how much he hated him. As dearly as Patri felt for the stranger, he planned on hiding until everything blew over. He was good at that. Better than he was at fighting at least. Sure, in his younger days he¡¯d become a master thief and upended the underworld, with Senfa¡¯s help of course, but Patri knew that time had passed. White had taken care of that when he demolished the guilds altogether.


    Mimicking the salute he¡¯d received himself from the stranger earlier, the aging, bed sick thief sat behind a sturdy wooden shelf and made himself as small as possible. Patri pulled his cloak tight, hood low, and aimed his eyes to the ground, grateful he was wearing his usual grey cloak blotted with black instead of the ornate garbage Senfe had acquired from their newest client. They¡¯d argued for hours about the practicality. At least in his old, dirty clothes he might pass as a sleeping beggar who¡¯d found the door unlocked.


    She¡¯d been right of course. They needed the job and he was really just worried about what others would say. She was good at getting him to think about himself. Good at keeping his pride in check.


    But Senfa wasn¡¯t there.


    Huddled beneath his dark, splotted cloak, knees tight to his chest trembling between white knuckled fists, Patri was alone when he heard Amberosin¡¯s chiding chuckle. Alone with his pride. It swelled in the humid darkness, surrounding him, suffocating the old thief with a veracity he¡¯d not known since his youth. A desire to act. To prove her wrong.


    She¡¯s right to laugh, Patri. Any of your men would have killed you if they saw this. Thinking you¡¯d gone lame. The perceptive ones of the few that follow you would see through your fear. They¡¯d strike like a viper, without remorse.


    The voice was his own but deeper, graveled, and full of static. It drove his heart to the point of bursting, threatened to scorch Patri alive if he did not act, if he refused to rebuke the aggressive words with aggressive actions. Far beneath it¡¯s fiery grasp, there was also a small concern for his two companions, a hint of the man he had always wanted to be, clinging onto existence.


    Amberosin¡¯s own movement to his right, a slight scuffing of her thin makeshift shoes, set him off. Patri spun up from on his sore ass, extended his aching legs, and sprang forward into the middle of the shelves in their far corner, standing tall with daggers in each hand. Beside him, Amberosin stood on guard snarling in a feral excitement.


    Can¡¯t let them have all the fun can I? Legends watch over us.

 Chapter eleven

    <div>


    <div>


    Silent One watched from his blanket of shade in the corner and hardly held back a full-blown, boisterous laugh. Neither Patri nor Amberosin had noticed the thin wavering veil of air mysteriously pulsing before them. Silent One could see a mirror from his position, could see what White and his guard would be seeing. Just an empty back aisle in a fair-sized shop with nothing to note. So long as his metal hand kept spinning there on the ground it would project whatever he wished. As such, the two companions he gained the night before looked absolutely ludicrous, standing with weapons drawn and barred teeth ready for a frontal assault.


    <div>


    Silent One¡¯s smile vanished rather quickly, however, as his eyes settled on his target.


    <div>


    White¡¯s attention was on the merchant for the time being. Silent One¡¯s illusion was working well enough so Amberosin and Patri were safe but his self-control was waning each second. Every slight sway or turn of White¡¯s oversized cloak and cape sent Silent One back to the fields on the day of the last Ta¡¯ Hun. The last celebration of a


    <div>


    Crouching down in the shadows and keeping his body still may as well have been a battle for his life. Silent One was glad to be so well hidden, the shame he would feel at anyone seeing him shake, struggling so vehemently with controlling himself, would be too much. Too great a disgrace to his sacred namesake.


    <div>


    Ta¡¯ are not swayed. Ta¡¯ sway.


    <div>


    Silent One wondered if he could do the same.


    Before him stood the propagator of all his sorrows, the puppet master behind a misery that had become his entire existence. A vicious god that walked among men with hands covered in more blood than all the battlegrounds of Mother Noctra¡¯s history combined. Every fiber demanded that Silent One move, that he take the head of the great destroyer, and display it above the thousands that followed his wicked ways. Silent One wanted it so badly, desired so dearly to piece apart anyone involved with the eradication of his people, that he knew he should not have it.


    <div>


    Instinct, not impulse. Breathe through, to peace. To Ta¡¯ Hun.


    <div>


    He was keenly aware that his own peace would only be found in vengeance or death, but the prayer did it¡¯s job. Steadily his trembling ceased and a calm covered his heart. Thin as it was, it proved enough to give him a clear mind. Silent One¡¯s illusion hid the light of his framework eye, the blue deeper and brighter than before, working harder to process everything in his line of sight. Left to right, he absorbed a whole new world. A place of essence, spirit, unscathed truths opened up before him. Silent One happily consumed it all. Every man and woman in the shop had a slightly different hue to the red of their essence, everyone except Amberosin.


    <div>


    Amongst the sea of ruby and crimson she stood out as a human-shaped void next to Patri, whose own scarlet mingled with blue and green as he prepared his will, a slight purple tinge just under his skin to lessen the pain of casting. Both of Silent One¡¯s companion¡¯s had turned towards him, their stances relaxed as the sapphire light shone from his eye without alerting the guards. He held a finger to his lips, indicating they should stay quiet. Both nodded. Amberosin seemed curious but poor Patri looked terrified.


    <div>


    The tortured young Ta¡¯ struggled to break his attention from the woman-shaped void. So far as he¡¯d been taught a person¡¯s essence represented their


    <div>


    He was only able to break away because of Amberosin¡¯s raised eyebrow, a whimsical, inquisitive expression on her face.


    <div>


    She was


    <div>


    He tried his best to ignore the pounding of his heart at Amberosin¡¯s raised eyebrow.


    <div>


    They both seemed to understand.


    <div>


    Aside from the massive, seemingly endlessly streams of essence coming from the man, something else was off about White to his venerable eye. More obsidian swirled in his veins, about his body, than all the others combined. Where others shone with the bright red vibrancy of life, White¡¯s essence was pocked with green, blue, purple¡­ a world¡¯s worth of estypes pinging around within him. Silent One could absorb, transfer, and even fundamentally alter all estypes, but they never


    <div>


    Hard to imagine it was a fluke or flaw in his ability. Lord White, whether by traditional means or bastardized Ta¡¯ sciences, had obtained nearly limitless power. With an infinite supply with which to cast and multiple lifetimes worth of ideas, there truly was no telling what he could do and Silent One needed desperately to find out, to assess his chances. He refused to throw his life away with a failed attempt.


    <div>


    This was the reason he¡¯d survived. My destiny will not be squandered.


    <div>


    Just a blur as he moved out from behind his cast illusion, leaving his spinning hand to provide cover for the others, Silent One completely surprised the first two guards he came upon. One fell to his remaining framework hand, strangled of all life before he could make a sound. The other found a small needle of silver in his temple and died as it pulled free, returning back to Silent One¡¯s jar. Both guards fell without a sound.


    <div>


    Each shimmering line trailing to Lord White withered immediately. The remaining soldiers would know of the assault the instant their commander did, the exact location their comrade''s lifelines cut out. Silent One wasted no time, refusing to worry about the puppets still secured to their master¡¯s string, he willed his venerable sight to fade and darted towards the man with the horned mask. Weaving between tables and makeshift aisles Silent One ran a jagged course, cutting across at every juncture, the small jar on his side slowly spilling silver dust all the while. About him, he heard the shuffling feet and scraping footwear of the guards confidently getting into formation. He paid them no mind, still. The shop was small, their numbers great, every corner covered in one person or another''s sightline. They had no reason to fear.


    <div>


    Not just yet.


    <div>


    The shopkeeper stood sweating behind his counter, eyes flicking back and forth as he realized something had happened. He seemed to have feared plenty, though most obviously was his discomfort at the closeness of Lord White, who leaned against the opposite side of the same counter as if in thought.


    <div>


    ¡°Interesting¡­¡±


    <div>


    Grand Councilor. Lord White.


    <div>


    Father¡¯s dearest friend.


    <div>


    Sliding low, silent, he activated the Trallen dust spread out across the modest shop floor. All around shadows of silver dust came to life, mimicking the estate guards in build and arms, their presence weighted with essence that ignited a warning in White¡¯s infinite web. Every soldier swung erratically about them when the sensation came on, too much for any one person to withstand calmly. They knocked about wares and splintered wood before Lord White stood tall, away from the counter.


    <div>


    Find your peace.


    <div>


    Silent One snarled beneath the thin wrappings in opposition to his prayer.


    <div>


    White was unlinking the guards. He could see their bodies jerk when it happened, like a physical plug was being pulled from their chests. They¡¯d begun to calm, relying on their own instincts and senses to assess the situation and a clearness overcame them all before they snapped back to attention. A large man with yellow-tinged ochre skin, red hair on either side of his head, and a goatee that hung past his belt line raged when clarity overcame him. He pulled a curved saber from his side and struck the Trallen dust decoy nearest him only to be met with a faceful of searing flames; emerald and persistent beyond all measure.


    <div>


    The small explosion created a chain reaction, spouting bright green flames where each silver dust person had stood, sending imbued shrapnel in all directions. Nearly half of the guards combusted or were pierced through by shards of silver instantly, unaware up until their last moments. Others were quicker, more reactive, but that just led to louder deaths. A few cast shields, which blocked the flames, but were shredded by the piercing shrapnel. It sounded like hail against a tin roof behind the roaring fires that grew to engulf the unfortunate bodies they attached to. When Lord White stepped back onto one foot, just barely shifting in genuine surprise, Silent One struck.


    <div>


    With the metals I mined for you and your disgraceful empire, I¡¯ll take my vengeance.


    <div>


    Silent One sprang forward with his framework hand in a single, sharp point, fully extended. He lusted desperately for the feeling of White¡¯s flesh severing to his touch. A euphoric shame traveled up his body as he tore through White¡¯s massive cloak and braced for impact. Silent One smiled with a joy that he was sure wasn¡¯t his own.


    <div>


    As he passed from one side of the cloak to the other, he cut only air.


    <div>


    Behind him a large gloved hand clamped onto his neck and lifted Silent One from the ground.


    <div>


    He knew I was there? Why let them die? Why-


    <div>


    The grip around his neck tightened and air was getting harder to catch, his lungs heated to the point of burning already. Lord White spoke with a chuckle, in a singsong manner. Silent One hadn¡¯t noticed how large the man was from afar.


    <div>


    ¡°Interesting indeed. I thought at least one of them would survive.. Mezir will have to do better recruiting.¡± His steel grip around Silent One¡¯s neck was even, steady, and calm. Devoid of anger. Black had started to invade the edges of his vision, creeping towards his iris like an unfinished stitch on a Teller¡¯s quilt.


    <div>


    My story isn¡¯t over.


    <div>


    Silent One willed every ounce of essence he could feel up to his neck, wrapping it around White¡¯s glove with a serpent''s tense efficiency, and cast the inferno building in his lungs outwards, upon his captor. A smoldering heat surrounded his neck, crackling as it rose higher than the top of his head, searing the ceiling of Schuri¡¯s shop. White held firm, chuckling once more. Darkness had nearly completed it¡¯s take over of Silent One¡¯s waking world. His hope faded along with the light of life, but with his last gasp White¡¯s hand about his throat loosened ever so slightly.


    <div>


    ¡° As will you, little Ta¡¯. You¡¯ll have to do an exponentially better job. You¡¯re much too early.. Much too fresh. True, you¡¯ve mowed through grunts left and right since you arrived last night, and I am well aware of what you did at the mines..¡± he let it hang there, let the memory marinate in Silent One¡¯s mind. ¡° I tracked you,


    <div>


    White¡¯s words stung the young Ta¡¯ worse than his own oxygen deprived lungs. The bastard was hurting him as much as he could. Lord White wanted to break him down, one piece at a time.


    <div>


    Silent One felt it, there beneath the large man''s calm. A tension that broke through in White¡¯s use of the word


    <div>


    ¡°Now-¡± his words were strong and confident, buoyant almost ¡°You must remember this, my mercy. I will not kill you now, no. Instead, you and your friend cowering in the back there, you will both live on to serve your purpose.¡±


    <div>


    Friend? Only one-


    <div>


    ¡° With the appropriate mementos, of course.¡±


    <div>


    Heat was suddenly siphoned from Silent One¡¯s body, chilling his veins until they contracted to the point of numbness. He knew what that feeling meant.


    <div>


    Silent One¡¯s great effort afforded him only more pain as his leg reverberated in agony against Lord White¡¯s impossibly thick framework armor. The shop around him was fading fast, wrapped head swimming through molasses as he desperately tried to think. To cast. To do


    <div>


    Our purpose...


    <div>


    He knew.


    <div>


    The darkness around him stayed frozen, barren, soundless; all he could think was how it seemed so peaceful and welcoming. Silent One was missing something, he could feel it nagging him, but it was getting harder to care. His world was blurry in the distance, toppling down, to the side. He didn¡¯t feel his head bounce on the hardwood floor of the shop, though he saw it happen, as if to someone else. Crimson splattered the tiny, faraway display and even with such an intense blur Silent One recognized the color of freshly spilled blood, raining from above as his head.


    <div>


    A fuzzy image shot closer with one forceful thud from his fleeting heart, a multicolored lump in a pool of deep red, laying close enough to touch.


    <div>


    No..


    <div>


    Again the image advanced on the waves of a determined fury, seething in resentment, in refusal of defeat.


    <div>


    No. No. No!


    <div>


    Just before his face, it twitched with a dull heat.


    <div>


    My fucking leg.. First my people, my world! Then my hands... now my fucking leg! No, no more.


    <div>


    Silent One fought as hard as his bled out body could manage, struggled up to his one knee and reached for the loose appendage before him. If he could get to it in time, if he could cast quick enough, he could save it. White hadn¡¯t stopped him and he could no longer hear, oblivious to the happenings around him, his body was relying on bare minimum senses to accomplish the task at hand. Trallenblade dust rattled and inched towards him, far too slowly. Turning against his deep seeded desires to protect Amberosin and the poor exhausted Patri, Silent One called his free hand to return, dispelling his evidently useless illusion.


    <div>


    A pasty blank look of shock was plastered beneath Patri¡¯s long, thin hair, who could only stare at Lord White with his mouth agape.


    <div>


    Only one.


    <div>


    Silent One couldn¡¯t help but give a weak smile. Amberosin must have been the reason White¡¯s huge, iron grip had faltered. The blood.. It¡¯s his! Silent One watched the blood falling from sullen bandages about his own head, pooling next to his own severed limb. This time his laughter broke out from behind his wrappings. A hoarse, cracked, manic sound that he hardly recognized as being his own. His vow of silence would be started once again but he couldn¡¯t stop himself from busting his gut to the point of tears. It seemed things may work out more in his favor than he¡¯d realized, all thanks to Amberosin.


    <div>


    His right framework hand slammed down into the mixing blood as his laughter faded to an unconscious grunt. Silent One felt the ground shaking, shattering beneath his burden of a body and finally gave in to the endless darkness that had been calling him. An emerald flash awoke in his absence.


    <div>


    Not again¡­ not here.

 Chapter twelve

    Chapter Twelve


    Korrin hated every moment of following that bandaged bastard all the way down Noctra¡¯s filthy ass crack. She much preferred the large estate walls, the soft pillows atop overstuffed beds, and quarters near her dear Lord. She had spent more than enough time out on the streets with her unfortunate mother, begging and selling anything they couldn¡¯t eat, apart from themselves. Scraps here and there from the odd friend who had enough to spare kept them breathing, but hunger had a way of casting a waking death over those too starved to think. They sat, begged, dug, ran, and sat to beg some more from morning to dusk. But that had been before Korrin¡¯s darling Lord had saved her and Jorrick, Korrin¡¯s twin brother.


    Their mother proved to be unfit, inadequate in supplying what they needed, so Lord White took them from her withering grasp before they could watch her perish and pushed them onwards, towards their greatest potential. Regardless that each of them was missing one hand and only had one eye left- she had her mother¡¯s blue eye with a patch over the right, Jorrik had their father¡¯s green eye, his patch over the left- Lord White took them in and taught them all they knew. He made the crippled duo into the perfect assassins meant to work for the better of Blancana and all of Noctra.


    In the years since they had lived in the estate and Korrin had never even thought to refuse a request from Lord White¡­ that was until he asked her to trudge all the way to the Northern Mines, just south of Trallenngard¡¯s borders. Korrin wanted to scream and beg for a different assignment. Korrin wanted to plead with him not to send her away, not to banish them back to the desolate streets, but she bit her tongue. He had kept her close during the Fracturing and she¡¯d proven herself, so it was only natural he should use her elsewhere. Jorrick would follow, in case she needed any of his particular¡­ talents and that eased her mind a little, though not enough to let her sleep soundly through a single night they were gone. Wilder¡¯s Edge held too many unfamiliar threats, too many strange, ominous sounds. To her, it sounded as if the whole of the Wilder¡¯s shifted nightly. A sea of vines, oaks, pines, and beasts of all shapes, ready to swallow her whole.


    Jorrick had proven to be an absolute shit traveling companion, unsurprisingly. Korrin had barely been able to get a full conversation out of him the entire year that they were gone and what little she had gotten out of him took a very genuine threat to ¡°slice his cock in two, down the middle like a snakes tongue,¡± if he didn¡¯t say something. The lack of sleep and proper entertainment for such a long extent of time had left her irritable and desperate for a reprieve by the time they¡¯d even spotted ¡°Silent One¡±, as guards had started calling him. Korrin thought ¡°Bandaged One¡± or ¡°Colorful Gimp¡± was more fitting, after all, if Jorrick could stay silent for long periods of time, anyone could do it. Didn¡¯t stand out to her as his most outstanding feature; not like those fantastic framework hands.


    Lord White had offered many times to give them the finest replacements Noctra could afford to mine and produce, but both siblings had their own reasons for denying them. Korrin felt like most of the framework hands she¡¯d seen were useless and the integrated techwork usually only added a little flare. Not that bandaged bastards though, they were immaculate. Beautiful and fully functional. She¡¯d struggled greatly to not jump down into his camps at night and steal the lovely little things. Jorrick had noticed their caliber too. Korrin could practically feel him peering over her shoulders as she watched Silent One sleep. Her brother had decided that accepting frame or techwork replacements was a sign of weakness, however, over their many weeks watching the bandaged Ta¡¯ work, she could see his mind might be changing.


    Korrin couldn¡¯t help but gawk at the sheer irony when Silent One turned away from the road to the frosted kingdom and headed south. Had he gone to Trallengard and joined that ridiculous general¡¯s movement against Lord White he may have lived a full enough life; instead, he marched towards his own imminent demise. A thought that made following him across every smoldering settlement left, just a bit more bearable. Every settlement aside from one, at least. She had been no less than astounded when the man who wore venerable colors, cloaks, and satchels completely avoided Ta¡¯ Lands by skirting across Wilder¡¯s Edge.


    Jorrick thought Silent One was a coward for doing so, that he was avoiding an inevitable pain, or so she gathered from his one gruff scoff at her questioning later that night.


    ¡°Well..¡± she¡¯d ventured as they switched shifts watching the handless killer, ¡°Perhaps he already knows what is waiting for him. The futility of stopping, hoping there would be more than a pile of bones and ash. A waste of time he knows he doesn¡¯t have much of, I mean, if he is actually the last of the Ta¡¯, he¡¯s been somewhere fuming for ten years. Planning some supreme vengeance I¡¯d imagine.¡±


    Silence sat between the twins for a moment as they pondered the true meaning of their mark skipping the lands of his birth before Jorrick had blessed her with a short jib.


    ¡°Yeah, planning diligently and losing limbs. Sounds about as dangerous as an ill chess master. Ah.¡± With that, he fell into a loud slumber and left Korrin to her thoughts as she watched Silent One¡¯s chest rise and fall.


    She wondered how such a haunted man slept so peacefully. So quietly. Then she considered, with a small chill building at the base of her spine, perhaps he wasn¡¯t sleeping at all. Korrin often thought he might have been aware of them. More than once he cast a glance back as if checking to see if they were still tailing him. There was no way of knowing. Aside from a few long stints watching him butcher White¡¯s guard in small shambled settlements, the trip had been extremely uneventful. And far, far too long. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    By the time they had followed him back to Blancana, the southern wall was completely unrecognizable to Korrin. The markets were gone outside of the estate, everything was gone on the outer side of the wall and the wall itself had grown tenfold, adorned with ominous towers bearing Lord White¡¯s sigil. Her Lord¡¯s vanity had always amazed Korrin, in a humorous kind of way, though those massive towers instilled an uneasy feeling in her gut; one she tucked away to deal with later.


    Korrin longed to sprint back to the estate and find her Lord White, to ensure herself he was still the same noble man beneath his eccentric displays. Jorrick be damned, she wanted to ride the wind into the main halls and spend an eternity in Lord White¡¯s warm embrace, though despite her overwhelming desire, she stayed her course. Alongside an ever silent Jorrick, Korrin bore witness to Silent One¡¯s chilling display at the southern border. The gore and blood were enough to turn her stomach but she was unable to look away, blinking only when a swathe of lightning flew from the man to the Watchers above. They followed as he floated away and stayed in his shadows all the way to Schuri¡¯s shop where he stopped with his new companions. Then and only then, they went back to White¡¯s estate to give their final report.


    The twins arrived just in time to see Mezir limping up the grand marble stairs with his arm around Heria¡¯s shoulder, the right leg hanging nearly limp as they ascended. Korrin had witnessed Heria¡¯s encounter with the bandaged man and his new associate, but she couldn¡¯t begin to fathom what had worn Mezir so terribly. Unfortunately, they had no time to stop and catch up, their report needed to be given immediately.


    Korrin easily bound from ledge to ledge around the estate''s ornate walls until she reached the balcony of Lord White¡¯s chambers, where she flipped and landed silently in the pitch-black room. As late as it was she had expected Lord White to be sleeping soundly in his plush, massive bed, but there was no shadow to be found on the mattress or elsewhere in the large room. Her route around the estate had taken too long, it seemed, and he was likely hearing Mezir and Heria¡¯s report already.


    I suppose it can¡¯t be helped.


    White insisted they keep their coming and goings as discreet as possible but it often slowed things down on Korrin¡¯s end. Only one thing she could do now.. Korrin hated to interrupt¡­ to disobey, but there was no time for hesitancy. That silent freak didn¡¯t stay in one place for too long and she knew Lord White would want to greet him personally. With a quick whistle to Jorrick who waited on a ledge outside, she strode to the door of the chamber and opened it confidently, startling the guards nearby who readied their thick curved words for a moment before one recognized her.


    ¡°Lady Korrin-¡± a broad-shouldered woman she was sure she''d never seen before stuttered, ¡°we had not heard of your return.¡±


    Her shift partner, a slight, smooth-faced man with platinum hair down to his thighs, still held his sword at the ready, though his legs had abandoned their wide defensive stance. A glance at the insignia on his chest indicated the man was a newly appointed private. Korrin noticed there were a lot more of those around than when she had left.


    ¡°You were not meant to. Where is the Lord?¡±


    Korrin typically tried to reserve more kindness for guards around the estate but she knew time was ticking away. White would not be pleased if the bandaged man escaped after an entire year of covert surveillance. He had sent two of his best resources to take care of it after all.


    ¡°Downstairs in the study, Lady.¡±


    The woman bowed low with her left hand over her chest while the young man eyed Korrin, his gaze stopping at her stump of a wrist. He chanced a look at her uncovered eye and the glare she held was more than enough to make him think twice. A large, solitary sweat bead fell to the floor as he bowed quickly and turned his blade downwards.


    ¡°I will escort the young.. Uhm, Lady to the study.¡±


    Slim¡¯s voice cracked like a boulder on stone and Korrin felt an embarrassed discomfort build for him in her own chest. She couldn¡¯t blame him for the hesitation or uncertainty. There was no way she didn¡¯t look like she¡¯d been tossed about in the Wilders by dreadbeasts, and she knew her smell was no more pleasant a sensation than fresh dung. There had not been much time for bathing out on the trail either, something else she longed to remedy. Korrin definitely did not appear to be of any nobility.


    Not that she actually was.


    ¡°Appreciated. And, to both of you, it is Korrin. Lady is far too... snobbish.¡±


    ¡°Yes my La- yes, Korrin.¡± The woman¡¯s demeanor visibly relaxed and the young man beside her looked just a little less sickly than a moment ago.


    ¡°Good.¡±


    Korrin gave a genuine, tired smile and walked on with a sweat-laden Slim leading her. The corridors and stairwells were as long and spiraling as ever and Korrin knew every single step by memory. Still, she let the nervous young guard lead the way by a few steps, figured keeping out of his sight would stop his armor rattling so vehemently. She had to admit his posture was very nice and he seemed to be checking diligently for any concerns. She loved a man with a good sense of discipline.


    His chin isn¡¯t half bad either.


    Korrin allowed herself a quick daydream about his timid touch while they continued on past familiar marble walls and grandiose paintings of battle, after battle... after battle. Floor by floor her curiosity grew as she thought about the young guard, enough that she had decided she would be taking Sweaty Slim back to her chambers by night''s end. After a quick rinse, of course.


    The thought painted a smug grin across her face as she crossed the threshold into the study where White stood, towering above Mezir who still rested on Heria¡¯s shoulder.


    Jorrick would descend from outside, entering only if White called upon him personally.


    Korrin shivered slightly at the thought before tapping Slim on the shoulder. A sign that he should announce their presence. For a moment Slim turned and simply stared at her, eyes flashing to her sweet honey-colored lips before he realized what the touch had meant. After a fierce blush overtook his cheeks the guard turned back towards the others in the study and cleared his throat.


    Oh, how did I not notice? Slim¡¯s ass is exquisite!

 Chapter thirteen

    Heria truly wished she could have just scooped Mezir into her arms and walked him to the study to meet his father. The trip would have been exponentially faster and surely less tiring; though, also much more humiliating for Mezir. Not that he would have been bothered by it. He¡¯d nearly begged Heria to do so before she had posited the question of what Lord White would think upon seeing them ascending the stairs like fairytale lovers. By the time they reached the study, she wished she had taken him up on carrying him despite anyone¡¯s nasty reactions.


    Heria¡¯s entire left side had gone painfully numb from supporting Mezir for much of Blancana¡¯s Noble Road. No matter how strong her gargantuan arms were, his armor and contraptions about his legs created an unbelievable weight. She was surprised he was able to walk at all before being injured, let alone sprint fast enough to, very obviously, break a leg upon stopping. His armor had protected the bulk of his body from impact but his right leg looked nearly useless as it drug upon the smooth marble stairs that danced with small specks of golden essence twinkling in and out of existence. A lulling sight no matter how often she saw it. Any hopes she may have had of getting rest were all but devastated upon entering the study of White¡¯s estate. There, directly in the center of what had recently become the largest library in all of Noctra, with his broad back to them was the Grand Lord White himself.


    Adorned in a massive flowing pristine cape of the purest white, accented with gold just on the trim, he was statuesque. White¡¯s double horned Legend¡¯s mask held a smooth, deep curve in the middle and seemed to float too high above his body;  unnaturally blank, save for the single black lens in it¡¯s center. Lord White¡¯s visage always made Heria feel encumbered with a magnificent dread. She never knew if she should fear his touch or vye for his embrace. Heria was certain of one thing only about Grand Councilor White; no one questioned him. Not anymore.


    ¡°Mezir,¡± an insincere, flat chuckle floated from beneath their Lord¡¯s smooth horned mask, ¡°I nearly disposed of the servant who reported to me that my own son, the legendary ¡®Mezir De Blancana¡¯, was injured by a drunken vagrant, under suspicion she may have just been incompetent. Alas, I am glad I showed some restraint.¡± Grand Councilor White turned towards them at a painstaking pace, letting his pristine cape lag behind. Heria could feel numbness tingling in her left leg intensify as he did so. It took nearly all of her strength not to drop the limp load on her massive shoulder when Lord White finally made a full circle to face them directly.


    ¡°Heria. Please let him stand on his own.¡±


    She was barely able to contain the litany of rage that swelled within her guts, lit by her innate motive to protect Mezir. Heria was sure the fire in her eyes was visible, it burned right through the chilling unease White cast upon her¡­ for a brief moment at least. Lord White allowed her an instant to reconsider, standing quietly, peaceably, with his hands behind his back. Heria knew to take the chance that was offered.


    ¡°Yes, my White.¡±


    Her heavy shoulders dropped low with her head as she stepped away from Mezir, stopping two short paces behind him, trying her best not to look entirely terrified. Her left leg nearly gave out as she stepped on it and Heria was mortified- even more so when it seemed White didn¡¯t even notice. She did not exist. He was mere inches away from Mezir, mask to mask, his hulking frame towering over her dear friend. White emitted a foreboding air. Heavy with rage entirely focused on Mezir.  Lord White was waiting, watching, to see if his beloved son, the once rebel turned ¡®hero of the Lord Councilors guard¡¯, offered any signs of weakness or fatigue.


    Heria¡¯s dear commander would never do such a thing, not in front of his ludicrous father. Every interaction with Lord White was a test and failure generally resulted in a swift death. It would be no different for his son, no matter how beloved. She was overwhelmed with pride watching Mezir stand so tall as he could, peering right back at his father from behind his own smooth mask, though he was barely as tall as White¡¯s chest. Nevertheless, Mezir did not sway or give even an inch of ground. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Tension weighed down the atmosphere in the room as if gravity itself was in on the Grand Councilor¡¯s game, accompanied by a shrill silence that caused her ears to ache. Nothing. Not even the servants outside the study.. Heria wanted to click her tongue or shuffle a foot to make sure she hadn¡¯t gone spontaneously deaf but knew not to make the slightest movement. Her animal brain told her to not startle the coiled serpents in the room. Heria was a mere mortal among Legends.


    ¡°Excuse me, uh- Lord Councilor. Sir.¡±


    The timid, quaint, voice that broke the uneasy silence was but a pebble kicked into the ocean. It nearly caused Heria to soil her ripped and ragged pants. Her body went cold and for a moment she felt sick rising in her throat but the shock wore off quickly when she saw the source of the jarring interruption. Shivering in a loose suit of White Guard armor that looked as if it were going to swallow him whole, was a very average looking young man, albeit with a very strong chin.  Likely seventeen or so with as much life experience as an unfortunate toddler. Extremely out of place in a warriors suit of armor.


    Behind him stood a young woman layered in dirt that hid her light mahogany skin from sight, but Heria knew it was her. She had always had such beautiful lips.


    Korrin?!


    She longed to laugh and embrace her dear, filth ridden friend. Heria settled for a gentle nod and unreserved smile, which Korrin returned with a wink. Heria welcomed the soft blush on her cheeks, a familiar warmth that eased the pain of the gashes her teeth had created earlier in the night.


    Lord White still had yet to address the young guardsmen or Korrin. The man was so still and intense it seemed as if he had suddenly turned to a tribute made from his beloved marble. After a few excruciating seconds the novice guard spoke again. This time it was if the silence audibly popped like his words shattered an invisible bubble that had formed around them moments before.


    Grand Councilor White took notice.


    ¡°Sir?¡±


    The timid guard¡¯s voice squeaked. Heria couldn¡¯t find it in herself to blame him.


    At least he¡¯s a bit smarter than I-


    Had she not had eyes more adept than a regular human she likely would not have seen any of what happened next. As the silence shattered and the marble statue that was Lord White melted back into a fluid being, he struck. A blade, enormous in length, with a wide, cone shaped base that came to a fine point appeared from the shadow beneath Lord White¡¯s cloak and seemed to stretch across the room. It pierced the young man¡¯s left shoulder. Mere inches away from Korrin¡¯s face. It would have pierced through the guard¡¯s trembling chest -and Korrin¡¯s skull- if it were not for Mezir¡¯s own curved blade pressed firmly against his father¡¯s.


    The attack was commenced and foiled within a second. Korrin had scarcely noticed the blade beside her dirtied right cheek. When she did her eyes widened, staring at the blood flooding to the floor from the guard before her. She seemed lost in the sight until  a wild laughter cracked through the tense air.


    ¡°There is the Mezir I know!¡± A roaring joy was in White¡¯s voice as his sword swiftly withdrew back into his abysmal cape and was suddenly behind the bleeding boy-man, holding a still shocked Korrin in his arms.


    ¡±Oh, my dear! How I have missed you!¡±


    White spun her around twice as he spoke and by the time she was back to the ground her eyes were full of awareness once more. An apparent happiness plastered on her lovely, filthy face. Miraculously, none of the muck or grime from her or the clothing she wore seemed to be left on Lord White¡¯s immaculate clothing.


    Poor guard Squeaks had already disappeared to both of them. Such was the true magic of Lord White. They turned and walked through the threshold as the shaken guard fell down, headed towards  marble oblivion before Mezir caught him. All signs of shaking or pain gone from his demeanor. Heria could feel his rage from where she stood. She saw Korrin cast a quick, worried expression back, which Heria eased with one more smile and another nod.


    Same as ever, I suppose

 Chapter Fourteen

    He had only ever witnessed the bright emerald beam once before... but he knew what it meant.


    Silent One wished that he could float away into a lovely, obsidian-clad dream; let the emerald have it¡¯s frenzy while he found his peace in far off memories. He tried with all his might to conjure images of mother¡¯s wide smile or father¡¯s strong arms held out to pick him up. There was nothing he wouldn¡¯t give to hear his brother¡¯s sweet laughter after some expertly lewd comment. Unfortunately, there was no escape. Silent One would witness all of it, just like before, like some distant specter.


    Muffled, blurry, and downright sickening sights bombarded him the last time he had encountered the emerald. Only after he¡¯d escaped the mines was Silent One able to piece together the full picture of what had transpired.


    Sorzon, the man who had taken Silent One into his secret, humble lair among the cave walls and fed him mixes of restorative herbs after long days of laboring. Who¡¯d sweat night after night cleaning and healing the young Ta¡¯s wounded stumps for months on end. Sorzon who had been right in front of him before the beam appeared for the first time. Before the emerald engulfed everything around him. Silent One sobbed then, amidst the utter darkness, entirely helpless as he watched the man he considered to be his second father- his dosan Pa¡¯d- disappear. Sorrow was thick around him in his internal prison.


    Laying there trapped on the floor of sir Schuri¡¯s shop Silent One felt only an escalating rage. Obsessive fury aimed solely at the pure White blur fashioned before his tunneling vision. More memories screamed for escape from deep within the black that had become Silent One¡¯s domain and though he could not conjure them within the emerald¡¯s nothingness, Silent One knew exactly what memories they were. The same he¡¯d seen every night for years after the last Ta¡¯ Hun. His dear brother lying limp, lifeless, like a helpless newborn curled to one side, at the feet of Grand Councilor White. Behind both the Ta¡¯ and their lands rose to the sky in ashes.


    The more he thought about it the more his rage grew. The thicker his obsidian prison pressed upon him. The wider the searing emerald beam at the edge of his blurred sight became. It fed off of his rising heartbeat, his roaring desire for a vengeance. He could feel it coalescing with his own wishes, merging with him in an overwhelming display of force, granting him the power to do what he needed. There, in the moment of their brief union, he felt it, the emerald¡¯s own desire. It¡¯s presence had its own extreme fury about it, a powerful hate that kept it moving forward. At any cost.


    Almost any.


    Like Silent One''s own thought it resounded about him, adrift in his unbeing, but the voice was not one he recognized. Still, his heart leapt and nearly throttled out of his chest. His chest. Silent One felt it. Not from a distant blurred world at the end of his sight, but in his body, there floating among nothing. And once he realized it, it was all over. Within a sickening instant, the distant blurred world became far too close and exquisitely real.


    Silent One gasped a harsh breath that seemed to burn his lungs to a crisp and felt warmth follow it back up as he coughed and vomited. Luck would have it that his bandaged upon his face were entirely intact. Through his own disgusting hacking, he heard it. A familiar, distinctive click told him that his sight had shifted back. Back to what he knew. To what he could control. Before even taking another scorching breath in Silent One activated his sapphire sight and took everything in at once. His eyes were cast to the ground just before him but he knew could follow the essence without moving. With his own will-power he could guide essence down each visible path until he found what he needed. Silent One cast consciousness into his own life essence and split it. The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    There he was for a moment dancing among the fervent, speedy essence of flame. Then he became the quickening coolness about one of the many corpses he¡¯d made moments before. He found himself having to fight the urge to slow, to settle. From there his essence rode the waves of air itself to the speck of warmth he desired. Just behind Lord White¡¯s imposing array of pure essence.


    In so much time as it took nearby flames to crackle, he¡¯d seen everything he needed and had a plan. Silent One allowed one clear breath before he moved. Resolute and full of desperate rage, still bewildered at the turn of events, he cast his eyes up to meet White¡¯s eerie gaze. Silent One instead found his face mere inches from someone¡¯s sweat laden ass. Someone he had not sensed there. That the sapphire hadn¡¯t seen.


    Amberosin... That''s right!


    In all his rage and confusion Silent One had forgotten she was the one who saved him from White¡¯s savage grasp. He could see on the side of her right thigh a gash, seared shut from where the emerald beam had clipped her. From what he could tell his head had swiveled as the beam came out, tearing through the floorboards, shopfront, and ceiling before stopping just as it hit her leg. Silent One was mortified with himself- and severely impressed with Amberosin.


    She stood tall with muscles teeming, knotting up visibly on her arms and shoulders, full weight on her singed leg. Smiling. Her eyes were not even on Lord White. No. Not the biggest threat in all of Noctra¡­ They were on Silent One. Even as her body began to slide backward across the floor, aided by Silent One¡¯s and Lord White¡¯s blood, she kept her goggled eyes on his wrapped face. He couldn¡¯t read her eyes or her essence but he felt Amberosin was asking him something.


    But what? Maybe she is asking herself if this- if I- am worth dying over?


    Silent One thought that Amberosin should drop her small daggers and leave him to his fate, but he knew she wouldn¡¯t. She felt that she owed him for saving her life. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that this was his own fault. This was his mess and he was going to clean it up, damnit. Silent One was going to get her out of here alive. And Patri, of course, who-


    Who was gone out of the back door that still swung from his surprisingly swift exit.


    No matter... one less person to worry about. Patri¡¯s absence, hopefully,  made his goal that much easier. If they could get out of the crumbling shop that had begun to slowly pull away from its foundations without getting caught in any quickly rising flames, they may just be able to get out of sight and disappear long enough to live another day.


    First things first.


    Silent One tethered red essence behind Lord White to the stump of his leg and pulled them together with all his force. The severed portion slid across the floor, gathering clumps of Trallenblade dust before it slammed into his shin bone, painfully rebinding with a jarring speed. His vision shook and he wanted to vomit again but the warmth in his leg was more than welcome. As Amberosin slid back, level with Silent one who crouched with his rebound leg hidden beneath his torso, he propelled himself straight up. He knew he would regret overexerting his leg so soon but Silent One saw no other alternative.


    The top of his head and right shoulder rammed directly into Lord White¡¯s abdomen, pushing through his unbelievably thick cloak. Silent One had never felt such a feeble, grand sense of euphoria as when he heard the air leave Lord White¡¯s body. Luckily the impact was powerful enough to knock the massive man back a few strides as well and Amberosin took the chance to land a quick cut on White¡¯s left arm, which gave Silent One just enough time to land beside her. His leg screamed upon impact with the ground but he choked it down, grabbed her arm, and ran. Silent One would have to deal with the pain later. He was just glad to still have the leg attached while they burst through the shattered glass threshold of the former shop''s single window.


    In perfect stride with one another.

 Chapter fifteen

    Patri had no idea where he was.


    When the bandaged stranger had gone down, laughing of all fucking things, Patri was prepared to move forward and strike. None too surprising to him, Amberosin was much- much quicker. Sola¡¯s morning rays had come to full fruition and through the shop window the glare was enough to make Patri¡¯s eyes feel like they were searing, so it was fortunate the young woman was there or their silent friend probably would have met his end. Seconds after his vision began to return, Patri saw yet another blindingly bright light; emerald with specks of crackling silver in and throughout had blasted from the bandaged stranger without warning. The next thing Patri knew, he was sprinting down the street like a man 30 years his junior, pure terror guiding him at least three roads over before he slammed himself into a nearby wall and gasped for air.


    His lungs had not been prepared for the heat. Or the salt.


    Patri coughed until he felt like he was going to collapse and sucked in loud, briny breaths that rode like flames down to his abused innards.


    Lords and Legends I can¡¯t be this out of shape.


    Yet there he was, heaving after what would have been a meager jog to him in days long gone. Patri was nearer to the port, hence why each pitiful gasp stung his gums with saline daggers even as his lungs acclimated, not even one block down from the square. One of the few parts of Blancana Patri never visited. Couldn¡¯t stand that awful sight. Too many of his friends hung there swaying like wasted meat in a butchery¡­ Amberosin¡¯s mother hung there. Nearly all of them had lost a piece here or there but the skeletons surprisingly remained largely intact, as had the stench. It was enough to keep Patri away.


    Shcuri¡¯s shop was two roads back, to the left. He had to get back to the others, if they were still alive, and make damn sure that they didn¡¯t end up in that square too. Patri¡¯s legs were aching from the adrenaline burst that stole him away from the shop in the first place but he pushed on, keeping a paced sprint and breathing in two breaths, out one; a trick he¡¯d learned over the years to ensure he didn¡¯t end up completely winded¡­ exactly like he was. Couldn¡¯t well save the day if he keeled over upon arrival, now could he? Exercising about as much casting talent as he had in his whole body, Patri willed his legs to move just a little faster, his lungs to breathe a little stronger. He¡¯d never really been taught about using essence but willing hard enough seemed to work well enough when he¡¯d needed it before. Didn¡¯t matter what it was, where it came from, or where it finally ended up. Patri didn¡¯t have the skill to worry about such things. Not like his silent friend.


    Patri stopped dead in his tracks just around the corner from Schuri¡¯s shop and did his best to recall how the stranger had done it all before. He kneeled, ignoring painful sobs of unsteady breath tearing through his aged lungs, placed his hands on the ground, and willed with all his might that something, anything come to him in his time of need.


    Please. Please. Anything.


    Flustered red with a pathetic frustration, Patri raised his fist and slammed it into the ground beside him, caught completely by surprise when his knuckles landed in a warm, thick puddle that splashed crimson onto his sleeve. Shattering glass in the distance sounded like some far off echo as his eye traveled the path of red from his sleeve, to the puddle, and finally to a blood soaked lump laying on the ground. Not far from the lump was a person hunched over and breathing in shallow spurts; a filthy young woman with wild hair and an eye patch groaned as she turned over and saw Patri. She tried to jump back and away using her arms but slipped in the building pool around her, sending a stump of a leg into the air that still steamed at the edges. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Patri only stared as she fell back and slipped into unconsciousness. A final rest, should she stay in the roads as she was. The blood pounded in his ears as Patri contemplated what to do and through the muffled beating of his heart he heard it; footsteps speeding towards him, at least two sets, at a full sprint. He raised his head just in time to meet with Amberosin¡¯s knees as she slammed into him, knocking them both down as the bandaged stranger jumped and cleared Patri, as well as the bleeding girl only a few feet away. Patri was beginning to think their new friend may be a bit of a show off.


    ¡°Ah fuck a dreadbeast in it¡¯s hind- what the hell are you doing Patri?!¡± Amberosin rubbed her head as she stood and glared in his direction. Her bulging pack strapped around her once more made her look like a greedy demon come to smite him for his wrong doings; namely, getting in her way.


    ¡°Aye! You know you are supposed to look forward when you run you half-¡±


    A searing heat tore through Patri¡¯s left shoulder, ending his insult with a pained scream as he fell forward into the blood already there from the strange girl with the eye patch. The metallic taste mixed with his own despair made Patri want to retch but he figured he¡¯d best hold on to that apple from earlier, as it was evidently going to his last meal. He swallowed hard to knock any bile down and turned onto his back where he collapsed entirely against his own will.


    ¡°Oh, son of a bitch! Patri?!¡± Amberosin was down beside him completely unfazed by the slick crimson smearing across her shins and knees.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine gi- agh. Nope. Yeah it¡¯s alright, yeah?¡± Patri struggled to lean forward and take a look at his wound.


    His left shoulder now sported a hole roughly the size of a Blancanan silver, clean and even, all the way through. The wound pulsated with bright purple and orange essence. He knew if he looked behind him he would find a coin aglow with residual essence, cast with enough oomph that it was probably embedded a few inches into the marble road, which would repair itself in the next ten minutes or so. It was a common enough trick that nearly any pissant alive could pull it off but the pure force behind it was something else. Patri couldn¡¯t remember what purple and orange essence were typically used for but if the incessant screaming in his shoulder was any indication, it was nothing good. It was also moving. Fast.


    ¡°Shit. Shit! One second Pat, just one second and you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Amberosin was rifling through her pack, lying through her teeth for his sake. She didn¡¯t have enough time for such pleasantries. Whomever had shot him down was sure to be aiming for her next.


    ¡°Amb... Amberosin! Stop. You need to leave. Since when have you ever given a damn about ole¡¯ Pat to begin with?¡± His chuckle was forced. And wet. Thick with warmth.


    ¡°Shut up. Fuck you- shut up Pat!¡± She was crushing some leaves from a small pouch together and making a pale paste.


    ¡°You shouldn¡¯t yell at a dying man. Heh- ugh,¡± she¡¯d started smearing the thick paste from the leaves onto his wound, ¡°aye Creators arse- look. Amberosin!¡±


    She stopped smearing and looked at his eyes, tears filling her own. Patri could feel the essence crawling towards his chest, using his veins as tunnels to enact his own demise. The growing lines of color beneath his skin all but confirmed it.


    ¡°Look. Amberosin¡­ I am so sorry. For before. For everything. Your mother-¡±


    There it was. Just a quick glint in the corner of his eye.


    A second coin flying through the air. Time was slowing as Patri approached death, apparently. He could use that. As quickly as he could he willed his heavy, fatigued body to move and by some miracle, it worked. Just when he needed it. His own glow of essence shone bright red beneath his skin with what he was sure was green streaks throughout. It was more than enough. Patri sprang forward and pulled Amberosin down in a quick, strong embrace, just out of the way of the second coin which was close enough to them that it nearly grazed his face.


    ¡°So this is it? This is how Patri dies. Not too bad, all things considered. And ya¡¯ know¡­ I swear I smell cinnamon.¡±


    Cinnamon always reminded him of Senfe

 Chapter Sixteen

    Silent One¡¯s right leg felt like it was trying to tear itself in half as he flipped in front of Amberosin and Patri. The trallenblade dust he¡¯d used as an adhesive was shifting far too much, not given the proper time to bond, and it was sending shockwaves of flaming needles up the inside of his thigh. He kept moving. Just another pain for another time. Silent One spread his framework hands into twelve pieces and sent them into the air before him. He willed his essence, along with essence pulled from beneath the marble road before it regenerated, to create a wall of sand, metal, and swirling air just in time to stop a third coin, cast with a glow of orange and purple once again. Harmless separately, the two colors could interact in a way that crystallized any blood that it came in contact with, and stop a heart dead in minutes.


    It was quite the blessing that Amberosin had inadvertently started an effective treatment with the herbs he¡¯d left in the extra pouch for her on the road into Blancana. It was a near miracle that Patri had cast his essence so brilliantly that his whole body shone, slowing the spread of the invasive orange and purple enough to spare his life. By another few minutes, at least.


    Silent One hoped he was as blessed as his companions as he called upon Mother Noctra once more. He slammed his makeshift shield into the ground and willed it to grow in height until it stood five stories tall. Silent One released the structure and began to siphon essence through his legs. At the rate he was taking it all in it became impossible to hide the shining colors beneath his bandages and skin. It was also impossible to hide when he cast. A swirling mass of colors ranging in hue, intensity, opacity, and frequency climbed his body in a dizzying rainbow before it shot out of his body as one large stream coming from each limb. Everywhere the essence touched began to rumble as he willed it forward.


    Grasping at the marble of the roads, white granite bricks of the buildings, and the sand beneath it all, Silent One willed the natural materials of Blancana to bond with him. The green essence borrowed from the mother planet called forth the decorative plants about Blancana¡¯s decadent market, binding the stone and marble around his body like a makeshift suit of armor. Silent One was immediately recycling the essence given to him by Noctra in a way that it was still tethered to him. The strain of exercising such control was unbelievable. As soon as the stone laden enclosure was sealed on his body he could feel his muscles begin to knot from tension and his right leg nearly gave out from the extra weight. Luckily the dust binding his leg together reacted well to the other earthen elements and had numbed quite quickly.


    Silent One wasted no time looking back at his companions or the strange woman laying beside her own severed leg. Extending the reach of his will to the ground beneath them he shot all three back on a wave of marble, dirt, and stone that crumbled nearby buildings as it roared past, siphoning their structures to propel itself further. Each building that fell was followed by wailing from within. Silent One¡¯s heart ached as he wondered how many families lived on those streets; how many depended on those now decimated shops. How many people had he killed to save three strangers? One of which he knew absolutely nothing about other than the fact that he had definitely maimed her during his unconscious rage.


    Another pain. Another time. Move.


    Silent One¡¯s tears bled through his bandages unseen as he shot forth, absorbing his five-story tall shield into the mass of land about his armor. The end result looked like a faceless, stone golem, standing at least five feet higher than your average Blancanan. The second body about him was covered with living veins of sand that circled the torso of his golem, prepared to defend against any attack. He used his essence to carve the stone and foliage into gears and cogs, pipes and beams that he could manipulate more easily. This allowed him full control of the golem suit and lessened the tension on Silent One¡¯s body so he was able to cast much easier. He reached out with the silver essence bound to marble and tore out five pointed boulders from the crumbling port road. Silent One situated them around him in an arch and made them spin fast enough that their whooshing winds blocked out a horrid symphony of screams rising from the ruined shops and homes.


    He fought through a torrent of tears as he slid to a halt in front of Schuri¡¯s decimated storefront. Each shallow teardrop that soaked his bandages was accompanied by horrid images of Blancanan children standing in their parent¡¯s blood. A sickening tint across their golden umber skin, their bright honey-hued eyes spilling rivers over the mangled bodies around them. Every single scream that broke through the fierce winds about him bore into his very being. Still, Silent One refused to relent. He knew he would remember every name called out by terrified loved ones emanating from the crumbling buildings nearby for the rest of his life¡­ but it didn¡¯t matter. There was no turning back. Not anymore.


    I am so sorry!


    Silent One threw his arms forward, mimicked perfectly in time by his golem body, and thrust all five pointed, spinning boulders into the shop before him with a might not entirely his own. The essence he had absorbed, the things he was still connected to, lent him more power than he could have ever imagined. Silent One was able to follow the unseen silver strands of essence that connected to the marble boulders he¡¯d summoned as they crashed into Schuri¡¯s poor shop. He could see the path of all five at once as if flying beside them. A sensation that was equal parts exhilarating and nauseating. With every small collision, Silent One¡¯s will was cast to a new shard, following hundreds at once, guiding them as much as he could to turn so he may see his enemy.


    Silent One saw Schuri dart for the shattered entrance first, the round-bellied merchant carried a large metal box in his arms and his face was nearly purple from exertion. Silent One willed his boulder shards to avoid the man, narrowly veering one away from Schuri¡¯s large arms, before he turned his attention back to the carnage before him. Carnage that he was solely responsible for. It was a shock for Silent One to see his destruction from so many angles at once. All across the remaining fragments of the storefront, there were seared slabs of stone and smoldering framework supports. Remnants of his own subconscious fury. Worst of all were the bodies. The remains of those he¡¯d slain in an entirely conscious rage, some of which were turned towards him. All of their eyes begged the same question. ¡°Why?¡±


    Because they¡¯d sided with Lord White. Simple¡­ wasn''t it? Should it be? Should I be¡­ no. They damned themselves. Focus. Find him.


    Lord White was nowhere to be seen.


    Aside from the dead haunting SIlent One with their dull eye¡¯s questions, there wasn¡¯t a body left in the shop.¡®Grand Councilor White¡¯ seemed to have either run away with inane speed or hidden expertly well. The thought enraged SIlent One to a nearly unbearable degree, though this time he felt the pulsing of essence calming him. Directing him onwards. When his heart rate slowed and golem fists unclenched, Silent One could hear it. Shallow, even breathing. Lord White may not have stayed in the shop but there was someone nearby¡­ someone who was casting poisoned coins with damn near perfect precision.


    Silent One focused himself back into his own body, feet deep within the living parts of Noctra that surrounded him. His golem was faceless but with his venerable sight, he could see through nearly anything. He could follow essence from anywhere. The sapphire light shone within Silent One¡¯s mobile fortress and revealed to him the intricacies of materials that had amassed around him. Some small insects skittered about, following the plant life to their sources of soil, trying to find their way home once more. Though there were hundreds of them, SIlent One hardly noticed the small world before him or it¡¯s tiny inhabitants.


    He was seeing things as they truly were, seeing them without their physical body. Everything became masses of swirling energies, lines of essence, and streams of what he believed could only be the life-force of Mother Noctra herself. Silent One¡¯s people had held different beliefs about the exact origins of essence that he was seeing but in the end, it didn¡¯t matter much. Wherever it came from, whatever it truly was, Silent One could track with it like no one who¡¯d ever lived. Even his father hadn¡¯t been able to beat him to game on their hunts, much to the envy of Ta¡¯Jir. And damn near everyone else. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    It was simple, really.


    Everything on Noctra, sentient or otherwise, emitted a unique trail of essence; however, all essence followed certain... Guidelines. One of those guidelines was that all living people and beings on Noctra had a large amount of red or red-based colors in their essence trails. The different hues and intensities of red coupled with flecks of one or more other colors within their streams meant people and most animals were pretty easy to track. Especially when there was no crowd and they had just cast two different types of essence.


    Silent One locked onto the coin thrower instantly.


    A thick red stream with small rivers of orange and purple swirling throughout it was looped about the sky above him. Whoever it was they were jumping from roof to roof, changing positions after each shot of imbued coins struck. He heard two quick thuds as more coins lodged inches down into top of his golems head. Directly from above nonetheless, as if to confirm his suspicions.


    Silent One counted.


    One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­


    Two more quick thuds resounded from the top of his golem, deeper than the previous coins had been. Silent One refused to move.


    One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­


    This time he could feel the impact of the coins just above his own head.


    He grasped at around the metal fingers and palms shifting through his stone barrier with his will as the ground started spinning open beneath his feet. Deep enough for him to stand. That was all he needed.


    One.. two...three-


    Silent One simultaneously shot himself downwards into the sand that once dominated Blancana and cast his framework hands upwards with as much power as he could muster. A bit more than he could muster himself if he was being honest. The force of Silent One¡¯s imbued casting had sent a good third of the golem suit skywards with his metal fingers guiding each shard-like little shepherds at exactly the fourth second. Directly above where it had stood¡­ hopefully in time with his attacker. Once more he waited. Surrounded by the still, quiet sands of a world long forgotten to Noctra¡¯s inhabitants, Silent One should have been as blind and deaf as the corpses now scattered about the port district, though his venerable sight wouldn¡¯t allow him such a weakness. It adapted his focus and senses to the task at hand with brutal, surprising efficiency.


    Sapphire blue flashed from his framework eye and sparked to a bright turquoise for just a fraction of a second within his man-sized hole that faded to deep cobalt, leaving him in near-total darkness. Silent One could hear the framework eye in his skull shifting with decisive clicks preceding each change in color, but he was too enamored with glimpses into the hidden realities before him to process what the sound was.


    When turquoise illuminated his small crater, the essence of the stone, sand, and dirt around him disappeared. Only that of living beings was still visible to his sight. Thousands of insects accompanied by millions of other microscopic beings emitted enough essence to block his view of anything above the ground; until cobalt filtered through them as well.


    Silent One had never experienced anything like it.


    The deep, dim cobalt that his eye had settled on erased everything before him. It replaced every last visage of essence, of life- Noctra in entirety, with abysmal darkness. So black it chilled his spine to see it before him, expanding outward endlessly. Much like being within himself in Schuri¡¯s, Silent One could not actually feel his physical body anymore. A small fear had begun seeding in his mind, reminding him that he didn¡¯t know how to turn off the cobalt sight. He¡¯d purposely activated and deactivated sapphire many times... the cobalt had come on more like the emerald light, with a strong will of its own.


    Then he saw it.


    Saw them, whomever they were. Silent One saw only the essence of his attacker. He couldn¡¯t pinpoint an exact distance in the world of soundless obsidian but they were there, above him. A mass of scarlet-orange-purple essence about the shape and size of a slender person wearing a hood was crouched down above him, some red essence seeping out as the mass conjured up blue. The color of healing. This told Silent One that he had definitely struck the coin thrower. Hopefully, it proved enough to send them fleeing after their master. It took more than a few minutes for the panting entity to rise, awash in a light cerulean sea, but once they had risen, they simply stood there.


    Silent One figured they were taking time to think on whether he was still there beneath the street, which was the smart move¡­. but he needed them to leave. The shock of activating cobalt presence within his framework for the first time had started to wear off and Silent One could feel the rising heat around his body, trapped there beneath the ground while his consciousness rode the waves of essence. He could feel how tired and worn his limbs were, knew that soon enough they would give out on him. There was also a burning sensation building within his limbs, waking him to its presence more and more; a mutiny in response to his excessive casting, he knew. Also telltales signs of es-sickness. An illness that could affect any level caster. It was hardly fatal, sure, but the pain was excruciating. He could hear himself gulp in the darkness at the thought of living through that¡­ again.


    Silent One really needed his attacker to leave. Now.


    After all that show, all those dead... orphaned¡­ Here I am hiding, hoping for an easy out¡­ but I am so tired¡­ so tired. And I¡¯ve lost a lot of blood...


    His arguing with himself only exposed Silent One¡¯s fatigue all the more and no matter how strong his resolve or adept he was at casting, he could not hold on anymore. The others were safe.. enough. That''s what really matters. The others-


    Silent One heard the golem crash above him.


    His body jerked as it started to release all the tethers of essence he made and Noctra took back what was hers. She was returning everything to its rightful place and it would only be a few moments before she healed the man sized crater he stood in. Silent One could siphon no more essence, his weariness reaching its pinnacle as the borrowed energy subsided. His venerable sight also failed him, killing the light within his metal eye that went out with one lone *click* . The absolute darkness that followed granted Silent One a chance to hear everything he had ignored before:


    Every last grain of sand shifting back into place.


    I really need air.


    All thousand tiny creatures tunneling to more stable land.


    My lungs are on fire.


    Each piece of stone that shifted and fell; the screams beyond them.


    I¡¯m delusional¡­ or already dead. Unless¡­


    It was there. Over the ebbing heartbeat in Silent One¡¯s ears he heard the slow creeping of marble. The street above him hadn¡¯t fully reconnected! He wasn¡¯t quite sealed in the tomb he¡¯d created, not yet. He had to be fast.


    Move! Now, Ta¡¯k! Now!


    They were his brother''s last words, resounding in his head. They sprang his body back to life. The framework hands he had crafted and imbued with his own essence reassembled and tore through the ground above him, drilling through the dirt and stone towards their owner as he pushed his slowing body upwards. One inch at a time. Air seared deeper and deeper into his lungs, lighting his chest aflame as he struggled to unearth himself. The framework hands finally tore through above him after what seemed like hours and opened a passage wide enough for him to stick his neck out and take in a horribly hot breath.


    Between the air that tore through his empty lungs and the blinding light that struck his bandaged eyes as he emerged, he had nearly fainted. Bile threatened to scorch his throat on the way up but he forced it back down with what little might remained and pulled himself onto the rubble-ridden marble road. There was no hope of him standing on unsteady legs, so he crawled. He didn¡¯t know where to; just forward. Through the shattered thicket of dizzying spots that took up all of his vision, he inched onward atop piercing shards and stones aplenty. He went on like this, simply moving away from where he had been until he heard voices ahead of him. Even though he knew it was likely no one that was looking for him, he decided to hide. One flop at a time he rolled himself into a filthy alley, away from the voices, and laid upon his back.


    Laughing and crying, full of regret and hope the same, he faded out of existence and slid into a dreamless sleep. Thankful for the slight drizzle that had started.


    Ta¡¯Jir had always loved lazing about on rainy days...

 Chapter Seventeen

    The harsh yellow-orange of sand was all that broke the monotony of white whizzing by her, creating a film between Amberosin and the world around. Her ears were full with the roaring of the wind as she cut through it on her ever changing slab of marble. Deathly afraid that standing would mean being thrown off of her moving mantle, Amberosin crouched and held her pack close. Patri rattled at her feet clutching his injured shoulder with his mouth agape, no doubt swallowing pounds of sand and rubble as they rocketed down the port roads. Amberosin couldn¡¯t help smiling at the thought. She was glad he was alive, for the time being at least. Her smile faded, however, when she chanced a closer look at Patri. She could see that neither he, nor the mysterious young woman who rode along with them, looked like they had much longer.


    There is nothing I can do¡­ just like with Ragoth¡­ and mom...


    A familiar chill ran up her spine at the revelation and threatened her with tears. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. What would mother-


    Amberosin wouldn¡¯t get to finish that thought.


    Though she¡¯d steeled herself against her own building emotions expertly, she could never have hardened herself enough to withstand an actual wall of stone. If she¡¯d not been lost in thought she may have heard the marble slabs piling atop one another from behind her; but Amberosin had been distracted. The flat wall that had formed from marble slabs, turned vertically without warning and caught her entirely off guard. She jumped upon impact. If she had stayed crouched, she likely would have just been jolted and fallen, much like Patri and the unknown woman. Instead Amberosin sprang upwards and added to her momentum, sending her directly into the stone wall of a tavern another ten paces away from where Patri had stopped.


    Amberosin sailed over Patri, who was still screaming and clutching his shoulder, cleared the mystery woman by about five full heads, and met the wall with stupefying force. She¡¯d been quick enough to cover her skull which meant her right shoulder and back were completely exposed to the harsh stone. Amberosin heard something pop but she couldn¡¯t place where it came from. She fell three paces away from the wall, bounced two, slid two, and stopped halfway between both her fellow travelers. She lay there a moment with her eyes closed, tempted to stay there, come what may.


    Yeah right, like I¡¯d take the cowards- wet? Why is the ground wet?


    Amberosin¡¯s eye shot open.


    The sand around her was soaked with blood that seeped from scrapes and gashes about her own body. A ringing began in both her ears as she forced herself onto hands and knees. Through the whole thing, she¡¯d held on to her bag; also covered in a large splash of red. Amberosin huffed as she rose to one knee, stretching her back until she was sure her spine and ribs were fine. Nothing felt shattered or protruded through the skin so far as she could tell. She counted that as a win. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Heh¡­ Legends, Pat¡­ heh¡­ you think our quiet... friend will fix me up¡­ again?¡±


    ¡°Ha! Oh! Only after he does me... you fucking lunatic. Oh... Oh that is no good.¡± Patri groaned as he strained to look at his shoulder.


    He was still alive. Thank the Creator.


    A soft residual glow of his own reddish essence cascaded up and down his arm and over some of his chest, blue shining in small patches just below the skin. Just outside of the reddish-blue patches near Patri¡¯s chest was a small vein of purple and orange that still shone with severe intensity. He was still alive but she couldn¡¯t say how much longer that would last. It seemed as if the invasive essence was moving forward with each heartbeat.


    ¡°Ah¡­¡± Amberosin¡¯s ribs may have been in worse shape than she thought. Breathing was harder than it should be and hurt like hell. ¡°I do believe the polite thing to do... is to let the lady go first, Pat. Senfe would agree, don¡¯t ya... think?¡± Joking, as always. Running from the creeping fear and growing stiffness in her lungs. Everything actually may have been hurt much worse than she had originally thought.


    Oh well. Doesn¡¯t matter now. What do you do next?


    ¡°Aye, Senfe would.¡± Patri was silent for a moment. Amberosin thought she heard smiling. ¡°Just like you, she is quite the selfish prick.¡±


    He was definitely smiling; as was Amberosin. That man loved Senfe more than his own life, that much had been glaringly obvious for a while now. It made her feel good to know that kind of thing actually existed.


    ¡° Speaking of the lady of our happy crew, hows¡­ uh.. Eyepatch over there?¡± Patri chuckled with a pained groan that turned him to his side, facing towards Amberosin and ¡°Eyepatch¡±.


    ¡°She seems¡­ fine..¡± Amberosin fell back to both knees, hands on the ground once more, ¡° But I am definitely telling... her you called¡­ Eyepatch-¡± the last few words were mumbled.  Amberosin fell with her face in the dirt and sand. She could hear Patri yelling her name but couldn¡¯t get a word out over her own pained wheezing. Darkness was closing in fast and breathing started to hurt far too much, so she did it less and less until she had finally just stopped. Felt better that way.


    I cannot believe I am going to die before Patri. Guess I¡¯m not as badass as we thought, huh Pat?


    She could feel it now; her lungs were nearly filled with warm fluid. Amberosin cursed herself for missing whatever had caused the puncture, in what she was now certain was the left lung, but knew it was too late for any of that to matter. Regardless, her hand was still clutched to her pack.


    Well.. technically I got out with a huge score. That counts for something¡­ right?


    She refused to playback her shitty little life before she left, trying to pick out what little good may have ever been there. She wanted the darkness. The peace.


    Amberosin should have known it wouldn¡¯t be that easy. Not for her.


    Not for anyone who wanted it.

 Chapter Eighteen

    Schuri waited until he rounded a corner towards the port square before he stopped and threw down the large metal box in his hands. He held his right palm to the lock, flashing a quick silver light beneath. After a few clicks and one sizable jump, the box sprang open, revealing a supposedly empty container; this did not dissuade Schuri in the slightest. In fact, the rotund merchant with the squinted grey eyes and sunkissed caramel creme skin was smiling with a boyish joy as he started to tap in very specific spots inside of the ¡°empty¡± container. If he did it in the wrong order the small locks of varied essence beneath would reassemble with different colors, therefore different properties. An unpickable lock. And he was the only key.


    Genius! He had to pat himself on the back often since no one else was around to.


    ¡°Schuri¡± had been waiting a long time for this, for five years the metal box was always taunting him in the back of his mind, no matter what mundane life he took on. One week he¡¯d be a jolly round merchant with caramel skin, then two months later he could be just another sea-weary man taking up arms in the famed Blancana guard. No disguise could hide the man from his true nature. His one purpose. The fingers that tapped in quick succession began to burn as he trembled with excitement. Five years¡­


    The timing couldn¡¯t have been more perfect.


    As the last lock gave way with a small gasp, the sound of nearly all fading essence, he quickly began undoing his ¡°Schuri Suit¡±. Using essence to aid with precision, as well as catching any pieces that strayed on the wind, he started with the clothes. Each golden button on his silk purple vest popped open simultaneously and signaled to obsidian buttons upon his grey button down to do the same. Loose-fitting pants nearly the same shade as his vest dropped with a flick of his thumbs, revealing a starkly naked bottom that differed from the top half immensely. His legs were as muscular and cut as Schuri¡¯s top half was round and buoyant because¡­ they were his legs.


    Next he dug his fingers under the false face of the Schuri suit and peeled it off, carefully, but with haste. The flaccid sack of skin with expertly crafted dimples and eyes holes floated deliberately into the metal box. At the same time a black mask made of framework, essence, and tech beyond the imaginings of Noctra¡¯s most gifted smiths floated quickly upwards and stalled before him. The man had crafted it himself, just like the Schuri suit which he tore off, folded, and placed in the false pocket of the metal box before clothing himself in black cloth pants and one steel chest piece. The armor exposed his muscular left arm and framework right, but it was all he would ever need. Once his mask had situated itself on the top half of his face, exposing only a bushy, curly black beard, and one maddening grin, the man took off. Metal box of secrets in hand.


    The whole process only took him about three minutes and when he rounded the corner, battle hungry after such a long delay, he witnessed the top half a stone golem explode upwards in the middle of the street and bombard a hooded woman who rolled onto one of the only rooftops left nearby. The man slowed to a jog and slid his metal box under a chunk of granite just outside of some poor merchants'' decimated scroll shop. After he willed a small illusion over the hiding place he set off at a full sprint towards the woman on the rooftop. He covered twenty paces in the time it took a normal man to cover ten with the help of some casting in his legs and jumped atop a pile of rubble beside ¡°Schuri¡¯s¡± shop before springing to what was left of the rooftop with strong one lunge upward.


    Oh yeah! Here we go!


    He barely held in his giddy excitement as he perched a mere ten feet behind his target. Her hand was aglow with essence, hood pulled too tight to see her face, but he was sure it was a woman. Some of the cloth on her upper body had torn and the bottom of a lone dark breast shone in the sunlight, though the man perched was more concerned with the blood seeping below it. The woman was still crouching with a bright blue glow about most of her body, though only easily visible in her right hand, trying to heal her wounds. The man waited a moment to see if his impressive half-mask could pinpoint anything he had missed but with the woman''s face covered there wasn¡¯t much in the way of information. He caught a glimpse of curly black hair hanging down when she stood but she faced away from him. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    Guess it can¡¯t be helped.


    Casting a slight breeze beneath his feet he floated toward the woman with enough speed to take the air out of her lungs when he landed with his knees in her back. Facedown with no means of rebellion the hooded woman went stiff and stayed quiet. His right arm quivered intensely as it held her wrist down making the metal workings clatter and clang.


    No. Not this one. We don¡¯t know who she is. That is not how we work anymore. Remember?


    A conversation he had to have nearly every day with¡­ well himself¡­ but more with the thing residing in his hollow arm. A gift from his father. A gift that he had grown more attached to than he could have ever imagined possible. The shaking ceased almost instantly, accepting his refusal. They had a deal.


    Good.


    As he willed it stone from the rooftop below them rose and encased the hooded woman¡¯s arms and legs, holding her flat as he rose and peered over the roof¡¯s edge. He chanced a look down at the woman from where he stood. She still hid her face.


    ¡°The bandaged fellow, where is he?¡±


    His captive stayed silent so he tightened the stone about her limbs, pulling her further into the rooftop. Her nose had to have been completely flattened now but she barely tensed. He saw her steady her breathing. So she was trained and trained well; likely already preparing to cast.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ too ashamed to admit that you don¡¯t know? It''s fine, truly, no reason to be embarrassed just because you¡¯re... well, inept? You¡¯re certainly not alone in that regard.¡± He scanned the ground below as he spoke, piecing together the rubble in his mind to try and decipher what had happened in the few moments he was absent. To find the bandaged ¡°man¡±.


    That poor boy¡­


    His mask lit up with red squares before him as the ground beneath the fallen golem opened up and a bandaged head reared itself out, gasping for air.


    ¡°Ah... you know what, I think you are off the hook. This time.¡±


    Unnervingly enough the woman laughed, loud enough to cover some of the cries ringing out from below. Before he could turn to see what was so funny she had already disappeared. His wits and estech mask told him she had used no small supply of flame essence to melt the stone and drop down into the shop below before fleeing. Leaving behind a body-sized hole beside his feet. The metal of the right arm rattled again and this time he felt the rage building in his chest, rising up to constrict his throat, but if it got there, it could get to his mind. No. He had to breathe.


    A quick count to six in, a quick count to six out, and he was as clear-headed as ever. His arm still and silent once more.


    Good.


    The man with the black, half teardrop mask waited until his bandaged target rolled into a back alley and passed out before he moved to ground level. It was hard to ignore the carnage around him, even harder to ignore the fact that the man he was saving had been the one that caused all of it. The light rain helped him though, calming his nerves as he hoisted an unconscious ¡°Silent One¡± onto his shoulders.


    I suppose White guards are still not the most creative bunch. What an awful moniker.


    He chuckled to himself as he moved down the destroyed roads of Blancana, slipping in and out of crowds of wailing citizens, bleeding with tears streaming down their dirty faces. No doubt he seemed quite the mad man but it was all he could manage. A big smile and a little laughter could go a long way for someone, especially in times of great despair. It did wonders for his mood as he slowly picked up the pace, near jogging with Silent One bouncing on his shoulders, away from the gathering crowds. After about ten minutes of jogging, he finally found the others laid out before a wall of broken marble. Much further down than he had anticipated. The road was unable to repair itself with their bodies blocking the way. All three were bleeding out and he had no idea who the woman cradling her missing leg was but he knew what to do. Saving them would be the easy part.


    He imagined none of them would be too pleased about leaving Blancana so suddenly but he couldn¡¯t wait to get the fuck out of the desert. Using his essence, along with some of his own pure strength, he crafted a sled of stone with wheels of marble and pulled all four bodies behind him. The man pulled off his helmet and let his curly black hair fall down to his shoulders, eyes cast to the ground.


    To anyone who saw him he would look like just another survivor pulling just another cart of corpses behind him. Though he knew better than anyone that there were thousands of more corpses behind him than could be seen.


    And far too many still ahead.

 Chapter nineteen

    Lord White sat in his study with his hands crossed before him atop an exquisite desk made of willcast wilderpines. A centuries old gift from an ambassador of the Ta¡¯, likely the only one left of its kind. White hated the damn thing. It was crafted expertly, of course, to the point that the wood even felt as if it caved to one''s pressure causing it to feel soft and welcoming. Despite how it felt, the desk also offered incredible support to one''s back, which one needed if they were going to be pouring over decrees, ledgers, correspondence with other nations, and things of that sort daily. At one point he had poured over those such things and much, much more at his desk, happy for its presence and support but now¡­ now it was merely a decorative lump in a room used for nothing more than an empty show of power.


    White had only accepted the gift because it had come directly from Ta'' Uma, someone he  happened to see as a dear friend for many, many years. He kept it only because it was the last connection that he now held to that dear friend. A friend he murdered with his own two hands. Whose son White¡¯s men were currently hunting for. He shook his and rested his horned helmet on the desk for a moment.


    No room for regrets now, old man.


    The door to his office creaked open but he didn¡¯t raise his head.


    Can I even feel such things anymore? Do I still have the capacity? Am I still-


    ¡°Mr. White?¡±


    Only one person called him ¡°Mr.¡± anymore. The kindest, most genuine person left in all of Blancana.


    ¡°Lili-Bon!¡± White¡¯s head shot up from his desk, reinvigorated by his sudden joy. ¡°Legends my dear, am I ever so happy to see you. Nothing has been as easy as it should be as of late, you know plans and all, yet¡­ it is as it needs to be¡­ so very conflicting.¡± He shook his head side to side, ¡°Disregard me Lili, what can I help you with?¡±


    Lili-Bon stared at White¡¯s blank mask for a moment, gathering her thoughts before she spoke, as she always did. He loved to watch her eyes skitter from side to side for a moment, collecting her words. Lili-Bon¡¯s fingers twitched exactly three times and then, she spoke.


    ¡°Mr. White. I am very sorry that your grand plans are causing you such trouble. If I may help in any way, please do let me know.¡± She paused and found her words once more. White smiled on silently, despite his mask between them. ¡°I have come to you today,¡± her uneven cheeks puffed up simultaneously as she smiled, ¡° because next week is my twenty-third birthday, Mr. White!¡± Lili-Bon squealed with excitement and White returned with his own joyous laugh.


    ¡°Ah! Lilli-Bon, that is fantastic! I didn¡¯t realize it had moved upon us so quickly.. Oh, oh, dear I must begin getting your gift together!¡± White shot up from his desk as if ready to bolt out of the room, startling Lili just enough to get her focused on him. ¡°Oh. But wait, what is it that I have right here?¡±


    As if conjuring it from thin air Lord White pulled out a short-sword from beneath his cape with his right hand encased in a jewelled scabbard. In his left he held a rounded black shield with White¡¯s signature ¡°W '''' on its face, generally reserved for his elite squad; the Serpints. But Lili was special to Lord White.


    ¡°Ah! Ah! Wha- thank you!¡± She ran fearlessly into the darkness he cast about the inside of his cape and wrapped herself around his armor. White couldn¡¯t feel it, of course; nonetheless, he set down her presents and hugged the young woman back. Her warmth broke through his stark white gloves, mimicking the sensation of their skin actually touching. How he suddenly longed to feel... anyone. Anything.


    ¡° I expected you quite a bit sooner, you know. I was holding those things for nearly a week waiting for you to come in here and announce your birthday to me... again! Ha! Oh, how I adore you Lili. I do hope they help you when you take the Crucible. Oh! One more thing..¡± White waved his hand behind her ear and conjured up a small notebook. ¡°All my own personal notes on casting essence. I¡¯ll need it back the night before your testing though, understand?¡±


    Lili-Bon stared in wonder as she slowly nodded her head and stepped away from White. Then her brow furrowed.


    ¡°Is that¡­ because it¡¯s cheating, Mr. White?¡±


    Blessed Lili-Bon.. ¡°No, Lili, I would never place you in a compromising position.¡± Half truth is better than a lie. ¡° I just need it back for my own use, I¡¯m quite old, remember? My memory gets hazy sometimes unlike you, youthful little sponge.¡± White tussled her hair, relieved at the sight of Lili-Bon¡¯s smile.


    ¡°Right, of course, Mr. White. I¡¯m sorry.¡± Her smile remained but she shot her eyes to the ground, looking from one side to the other and kneading her hands.


    Sweet Lili¡­ ¡°You¡¯ve never done me any wrong Mrs. Bon; in fact I find it hard to believe you could have ever wronged anyone, as honest as you are. As kind¡­ you truly are a treat.¡± He meant it.


    The young woman beamed directly at him, curtsied, and shook with genuinely pure excitement. She was such a breath of fresh air for White who felt smothered by the opacity and corruptness of the courts, his own not excluded. Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Oh, go on, you scoundrel! Take up your arms and train until your limbs fall numb! I, Mr. White, officially demand it.¡± He used his best fake, pompous noble voice, index finger held high in the air.


    Lili-Bon burst into laughter that warmed his heart, ever so slightly. When she finally caught her breath she grabbed her gifts, bowed low, and left with a wonderful smile emblazoned upon her face. She really was one of his favorite people to interact with. Before he could even bask in the small joy she¡¯d brought with her visit there was another knock on his office door.


    ¡°Do come in.¡± He spoke softly but the mask amplified it enough for the person knocking to hear. White took his seat once more.


    In through the threshold stepped a short, stout man dressed in extravagant white, gold, and purple garbs that seemed at least one size two small. Torrents of sweat were beading down his sepia skin, red tinted near and around his eyes. The purple indicated that he was from old noble families who had helped White secure his rule outside of Blancana in the earlier, more subtle days of his conquest, though Lord White could not place the man''s name. It was likely he never showed his face until after peace  ensued once more and just blended in with the rest of the noble scum White surrounded himself with. But¡­ they still had the coin.


    His mask assisted him with the man¡¯s name.


    Sir Danfin Von Blancana, Lord General of-


    ¡°Sir Danfin, how may I assist you?¡± White wondered if Danfin would see it as a slight that he hadn¡¯t used his full title. The man only smiled sheepishly and shook his head far too quickly.


    ¡°Yes, yes hello Grand Lord Councilor White, SIr,¡± just like the other nobles, Danfin wasn¡¯t quite sure how to address him, ¡° I am.. Uh¡­ sorry Sir, this place has... a lot of steps.¡± He patted a cloth on his sweaty, bald head.


    It was true, it did. White had specifically requested there be more stairs than necessary. The longer trip left unfit nobles, and other nuisances like Danfin, in a weak position from the outset. White started every meeting with the upper hand. It served as a weak, cruel pleasure, which White so enjoyed to the fullest extent. He didn¡¯t even respond to Denfin¡¯s remark or state of being, giving the man no time to catch his breath.


    ¡° Sir Danfin, I would like to remind you that I am very busy making preparations for this year¡¯s Crucible. I refuse to allow subpar casters or fighters into the guards that protect you and myself, so if you please?¡± White bowed his head slightly indicating the chair across from his magnificent, awful, desk.


    He neglected to offer the man a glass of water from a pitcher nearby.


    ¡°Of course, Sir, of course, please excuse me!¡± Danfin slammed into the chair without any eloquence or charm to spare.


    Typical nobles of today I suppose. Disgusting little swine aren¡¯t they?


    ¡° Sir... Lord White, I represent the Citizens of New Tralla, or-  the soon to be Citizens of New Tralla.¡± Danfin paused for a moment. He eyed the water, swallowed, and continued. ¡° The ¡®soon to be¡¯ part is the reason I am here, Sir. We- all of us in the coalition- ¡° White didn¡¯t remember allowing them to form anything resembling a coalition and wondered if the man weren¡¯t just misusing the term - ¡°.... and we truly understand the pressures¡­ the uh.. Uh¡­ trials you face as Grand Councilor-¡±


    Lord White raised his hand and Danfin stopped immediately. Good dog. Ha!


    ¡°It has been ten years since you and yours agreed to fund my endeavors to unite all of Noctra in peace in exchange for the lands of Trallengard- Ah.. New Tralla- as you would have it. I understand. There is no need to be nervous.¡± White watched Danfin basically deflate before him like an undersea puffer poked through with a needle.


    Always the same dance, never any fun.


    ¡°Oh.. Oh thank you Lord, of course, my Grand Councilor, you are so gracious¡­ as such.. Is there¡­ or would there happen to be a timeline yet?¡± Danfin was piling a kindness, a submissiveness to his voice that was just a bit too heavy.


    Biting back something Danfin, some frustration perhaps? White smiled beneath his mask, both cheeks risen and teeth fully displayed.


    ¡° You know¡­ our agents in Trallengard, among the Bloodletters, Wulverns, Smithers, and all the other noble clans and families would probably like a timeline on when they can come home too¡­ huh¡­ to think, I, Lord Grand Councilor White, had not thought of it!¡± He slammed his gloved fist on the table, dispelling the shadows beneath his cape, and letting his massive, engraved armor show. ¡°You know, we could just swap your places, since you want to be there so badly, and they¡¯d love to come home! Yes! I¡¯ll set that up immediately, what say you Danfin? Would you like a hand in taking the land from the tamers of hounds, wyverns, and smithing? Or shall I continue doing my job correctly?¡± It was torture keeping the sound of his delight from his own voice, watching Danfin shrink, shrivel inside himself, waiting for it to end.


    Three envoys in a month- three! As if I just love battling at the swampy fringes of their border with Matria¡¯s ruins so much I have been dragging my ass! Ah!


    Instead, he calmed his voice once more, keeping Danfin fumbling for any real ground. The nobles may be a pompous, agitating, idiotic lot to White, but he knew they could be dangerous. He needed them afraid enough to stay his course¡­ but some part of him also required their love, their adoration.


    Oh, bother.


    White couldn¡¯t let Danfin leave. He¡¯d tell the other nobles of his outburst. Even if he apologized,  they¡¯d start to see White¡¯s true feelings for them from past remarks or slights they¡¯d never noticed. They¡¯d spread rumors, discontent¡­ malice. He could claim he was simply stressed from such great pressures, or old and cranky, or a million other things¡­ but they¡¯d remember. The noble families would see all those reasons as weaknesses to be exploited. No. White had to wipe the slate clean.


    Sorry Danfin.


    Thirty minutes later as Danfin¡¯s body finally dissipated into nothing but ash mixed with residual essence, his protege emerged from the shadows behind his massive bookshelf¡­ also a gift from Ta¡¯ Uma.


    ¡°Any questions? You will have to make decisions like these every day. You will have to balance people. Every. Day. In my stead you will not be able to err. You must have no mercy.¡±


    ¡°Just one¡­ father.¡± The man in the teardrop mask, Mezir¡¯s mask, removed his helmet and revealed sweat laden, fiery red hair, and eyes full to the brim with tears. ¡°Why are you letting Lili-Bon kill herself?¡±


    Why¡­

 Chapter Twenty

    ¡°Why you filthy little mongrel!¡± Lord White drove a heavy fist into the man¡¯s exposed cheek, sending him down to one knee.


    They both sat in heavy silence, waiting for White¡¯s anger to subside. When his breathing finally evened out, the Lord Councilor stood high with his hands behind his back, and faced away from the man he just struck.


    ¡°Ragoth¡­¡± White said his name like it left a disgusting taste upon his tongue, ¡° I require my son, Mezir, for his lesson. Be a gentleman and fetch him for me, would you?¡±


    He obliged without a word.


    Ragoth stood as straight as he could, his leg still not entirely healed from his accident days before, and placed the white teardrop mask back onto his head.


    ¡°You called, father?¡± Mezir would be respectful. Despite any animosity he may hold. Polite¡­ until he wasn¡¯t.


    ¡°Good¡­ Mezir, do you have any questions about today¡¯s happenings?¡± White turned to face Mezir¡¯s mask, towering above him even from a few feet away.


    ¡°Actually, I do have just a couple...¡±


    Mezir slowly turned the chair across from White¡¯s immaculate desk toward himself, grabbed a second by the wall to their right, and sat with his legs stretched across both. Waited.


    Mezir is nuanced¡­ but forward with his intent. Sit, his actions said, get comfortable because we are going to talk about this.


    Lord White stood for a moment seemingly looking at Mezir.


    Likely looking at the name displayed by his mask trying to convince himself its true.


    White sat behind his desk without a word.


    Inside Mezir¡¯s mask an array of lights began flickering on and off. A silent alarm that meant someone was preparing to cast. That someone, would be Lord White, of course.


    He was always a bit threatened by Mezir, wasn¡¯t he? Even before the rebellion. Huh¡­


    ¡°Firstly, my Lord father, thank you for asking.¡± Mezir paused, held his hand out, and cast to pull a pitcher of water and a cup from across the room to himself. Easy for Mezir but quite the struggle for Ragoth, still dripping sweat beneath the mask. He poured a glass and set it on the desk between himself and Lord White. ¡°And congratulations on getting rid of that pompous imbecile¡­ Danfin, was it? He seemed like one who would cause some troubles for us down the line. I presume you¡¯ve already thought of an excuse to tell the nobles as to why their ambassador has disappeared?¡±


    White remained wordless, motionless in his chair behind the desk, but the water inside the cup gave his anger away. It rippled as if someone were dumping an endless pile of pebbles into the center of the cup. Lord White¡¯s hands must have been trembling under the table.


    Good. Mezir would like that. Ragoth enjoyed it too, silently.


    White shook his head from side to side and chuckled, ¡°No. No, I have not Mezzie. I am assuming you have a solution to that problem though, yes?¡± The water in the glass stopped rippling as White leaned with his elbows on the desk, hands clasped just below his mask.


    Mezir had always enjoyed this little game they played, their battle of temperance and wit. Ragoth had only recently begun seeing the appeal.


    ¡°Yes, actually I do, father! Fortunately enough, nearly all of the nobles are terrified of you.¡± Mezir stopped now and picked the glass up off of the table. A small cylinder popped out of the front of his teardrop mask, just long enough to reach the bottom of the glass. He drank slowly. Ragoth was having a hard time not laughing his ass off inside of the mask; White despised when others chalked his achievements up to any amount of fortune. He had worked hard and others were to acknowledge it. Ha! ¡° Ah,¡± Mezir set the glass down and poured more water from the pitcher, ¡°Those nobles who aren¡¯t as scared of you, as they ought be, are generally well receptive to me. So¡­ let me handle this one. All you need to do is tell anyone who asks about poor old Danfin that he left this office with me. I will handle the rest.¡± Mezir only filled the cup halfway, watching for more ripples.


    There were none. The lights inside Mezir¡¯s helmet had stopped blinking.


    Shit. Ragoth started getting nervous. Breathe. Be Mezir.


    Lord White sat back and stretched. His body relaxed and he situated the single lens in the middle of his daunting framework mask directly on Mezir. But is he looking at me? No! I am Mezir!


    Ragoth had been having too much fun. He must have slipped up somewhere. His leg started to ache.


    ¡°I think that sounds absolutely wonderful, my boy. I am ever so glad to see you stepping up to take on some true responsibility after such a long time spent daudiling. You had me worried I would never get the real Mezir back for a while there but it seems the war didn¡¯t bury you completely. At least not that smart mouth of yours!¡± White¡¯s head sprang back as he roared in laughter that didn¡¯t end until it turned into a wet coughing fit.


    Oh, Creator be blessed¡­. Right, keep it up! What would Mezir- no, what would I say?


    Mezir chuckled in the sudden quiet of the office, ¡°Delightful! Now, since that matter is settled, I would love to hear the truth about Trallengard. I figured it must be severely dire to have you so on edge, so sloppy, father. Though the cleanup was immaculate, not even a stench left behind! Ha!¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Lord White shook his head up and down and moved a file across the desk. ¡°This is the last report I was sent. Go ahead, open it up. I¡¯ll wait.¡±


    Mezir wouldn¡¯t open it up¡­ Mezir¡¯s mask highlighted the document in a red light, flashed twice, and displayed snippets of information before him.


    ¡°Last agent¡­. Joining armies¡­. New king¡­. General M.¡±


    General M? M¡­


    ¡°Mezir?¡± Lord White had turned his head sideways and was watching patiently with his hands folded.


    ¡°Uh, yes, sorry father,¡± Mezir would never apologize to White you idiot, ¡° I see that things are actually quite dire¡­ I mean the armies alone would be no match for you, surely¡­ but this General M character, what do we know?¡±


    White sat up a little, his head perked just a bit higher than before, and he spoke gently, kindly; like he would to Mezir when he was young. ¡° Absolutely nobody, Mezir. Certainly no one my son should be concerned with. He¡¯s not worth your time.¡± Ragoth hated how his own chest swelled with pride for a moment. Mezir would too.


    Ah, so I should look into that on my own. ¡°Right. Thank you for today, father. I learned more than I could ever have hoped.¡± Mezir stood, positioning the chairs exactly how they had been before he entered, returned the pitcher of water and cup to their respectful places, and stood before White¡¯s desk with his hand tapping the chin of his mask.


    ¡°Another question, Mezir?¡±


    ¡°Yes¡­ yes, just one, father. Why exactly are you sending Lili-Bon to her death?¡± Mezir loved to catch his father off guard.


    Ragoth nearly pissed himself with laughter as the whole desk shook for a moment.


    ¡°Out. Now. Mezir.¡±


    ***


    Heria was in the hall not fifteen paces away from Lord White¡¯s office, situated between two ornate doors with a third directly across from her. She had been there the entire morning waiting for Mezir¡¯s ¡°lesson¡± to end. White had told Heria to stand somewhere that made it unclear where Mezir would be so she had picked her spot and not moved for a few hours. She had spent nearly the entire time replaying what had happened with the bandaged man in her head.


    Heria almost had that stinking street rat where she needed her when he sprang out of nowhere and took the air out of her lungs with an unbelievable kick. ¡°Silent One¡±, as the other guards had been calling him, waved his hand before her and the next thing Heria knew she held an injured Mezir draped over her shoulder, hobbling down Noble¡¯s Road. She¡¯d been up the following four days trying to recollect her memory, which accomplished nothing aside from making her dead tired. Though, in that regard, she was not alone.


    All of White¡¯s guard, from novice cadets to elite Serpints, had been scouring Blancana nonstop looking for the bandaged man and his companions. There were no shift changes, even for Mezir and Heria. Most guards had resorted to eating small meals on the go, afraid to be caught idle in such dangerous times. Anyone not stationed to guard one important place or another was out, knocking on doors, rummaging through alleys, and bringing citizens who seemed suspicious in for questioning. Thus far, it had all amounted to nothing. A fact that was more infuriating and maddening to White, and subsequently his guard, than anything she had ever seen in her time at the estate. The contagious, sleepless  rage had not bothered Heria, honestly; it just acted as a way to keep her out of her own mind.


    An escape she longed for in the near empty halls of White¡¯s palace.


    The infinite white of the marble walls used to help Heria numb herself, though over time it seemed only to enlarge the images of her overactive imagination, forcing her to accept them. The wild girl''s snarling face was as tall as the palace ceiling before her for just a brief moment, projected on the flawless marble. The image stayed just long enough to quicken Heria¡¯s heart. It beat against her eardrums like an incessant toddler vying for their mother¡¯s attention.


    Get it together, Heria! She closed her eyes, brows squeezed tight. Giant hands clenched.


    Closing her eyes proved to be the wrong call. As soon as Heria¡¯s eyelids sealed shut she was face to face with ¡®Silent One¡¯ or at least an apparition of him. Completely unable to peel back her self-imposed prison Heria had no choice but to stare back at the visage before her. Just like on the old training grounds, all the man did was wave his hand, but this time as it passed before Heria from left to right everything changed. The darkness of her closed eyes became the vibrant yellow, blue, and  extravagant purple of a lavish loft; Seires Manor. Her family¡¯s manor.


    It had been at least twenty years since Heria had seen it¡­. But there it was in perfect detail. Exactly as it was in her youth. They hadn¡¯t been the most fortunate family, economically, but they did well enough to just barely stay in the lands of the nobles. Her father was no Lord, her mother no Lady, and their family had never once held claim to a Legend¡¯s bloodline; but they were happy. At least, she had been happy in her short time there. As an only child at the manor she had near run of the place, though she spent nearly all of her time with books crammed in her face. It had been a near paradise for the young lady she had once been; for a young, gentle, beautiful Helena Seires.


    She saw herself sitting there, back against the wall, reading some manifesto by a long dead general from Trallengard.


    Legends, I was gorgeous.


    The images shifted before her again and there they were. Her parents. Smiling at young Helena and waving with pride as they had on the day she rode away in a shuttle bound for White¡¯s famed Stroma labs. The lovely quaint Seires daughter had become the youngest scientist in all of Blancana and led a relatively amazing life up until just before the Fracturing. She wished she¡¯d stayed there with her family that night. Fortune and fame be damned.


    No. No! Stop- I can¡¯t do this, not right now! Helena is dead, dammit, they¡¯re all dead!


    Heria¡¯s head snapped back hard enough to hit the marble wall behind her. She saw stars and barely held shaky knees up as she caught her breath. Covered in a vicious sweat, Heria thanked the Legend¡¯s that she was still alone in the hall, though she had no idea how long it had been. Before the white splotches of light before her eyes vanished she heard a quick shuffling nearby and focused to see through the haze.


    She caught sight of a still beaming Lili-Bon leaving White¡¯s office in a full sprint, a tubby nobleman stepped aside just before she could bowl him over and glared hard until he saw the Serpint¡¯s mark on her shield. Heria was as perplexed as he appeared at staring at the young woman who had miraculously snagged one of those from Lord White. She felt a bittersweet joy for the girl, ¡®Simple Lili¡¯ to the assholes in the barracks. It was always a time for celebration when someone entered the Crucible of Blancana, for joy, and pride in the participants¡­. But Lili-Bon¡­


    Heria knew the young girl was not simple, far from it. Lili was brilliant, methodical, beautiful, and beyond too kind for the world they lived in. Heria wanted to grab the young girl and shake sense into her. There alone in the hall, no one would see. No one would hear Heria spew heresy against Lord White or the Crucible. No one...except Lili-Bon¡­. The single most honest person Heria had ever met. She was certain the girl was actually incapable of telling a lie. Though she¡¯d proven to know how to keep secrets between friends¡­ No.


    Heria bit her tongue and smiled at Lili-bon as she stormed by, looking ahead to some bright, far off future where she could shove her success back into the faces of those who called her simple her whole life. She wouldn¡¯t dare squash that kind of hope.


    Goodbye, dear Lili-Bon.


    Heria resumed her post.

 Twenty-One

    He had been a nervous wreck waiting for all of his guests to wake up. He knew each of them personally from well before the Fracturing. He¡¯d seen Ta¡¯k as a child when he still had his hands and wasn¡¯t covered in multicolored bandages in observation of a vow of sorrow. Nor was he silent. Another, much tougher vow to accept¡­ and carry out.


    He had been there when Amberosin had first learned to ¡°double jump¡± from her uncle Ragoth, who he happened to fancy quite a bit in those days. He also fancied her mother, Alicena, to a maddening degree. She¡¯d always had the goggles. The scar on her face was new, as was the one on her back from the incision he made to drain her lungs.


    Patri had been a friend and confidant since his earliest days at Lord White¡¯s estate. They¡¯d arrived upon the name of Patri¡¯s guild together; Tainted. Just like everything else in Blancana. Both men had laughed in a drunken joy at the revelation. The first mark of their rebellion. Patri hadn¡¯t looked anywhere near as aged then, in fact, he had been quite clean-cut and handsome with his mane of pitch back dreads. Now he was just more... homely. Pat just has more salt in his pepper is all! He laughed to himself in his small room, barely big enough for his bed or solitary metal box atop it. Patri¡¯s shoulder had only taken an hour or so to clean and heal.


    It had taken him a good few hours to get enough of the grime off of Korrin to even recognize her. Little baby Korrin?! What in the hell were you doing on top of Schuri¡¯s? The eyepatch appeared to be entirely cosmetic as she still had both mismatched eyes, but he left it alone. Korrin¡¯s leg, however, had taken the longest to remedy. A good four or five hours of continuous casting to ensure her bones and skin melded with the trallendust and another three hours spent making sure it didn¡¯t reject.


    He¡¯d slept for a good day himself after patching them all up. When he awoke to a soft pre-dawn glow, a mixture of purple and white light cast from the mother moon Solas, he set out immediately on the task of crafting them a barge. It had to appear to be an exact replica of Blancana¡¯s typical barge, brass railings and gold trim abound, even though he was only working with what he could find around him.... At one of Blancana¡¯s city dumps. The end result was¡­. Less than perfect, but he was able to cast an illusion over the large floating base that made it seem perfect.


    It had at least passed the quick inspections of a few patrols without raising any alarms. He figured his falsified papers probably helped out a bit in that regard, but he liked the idea that his craftsmanship had been good enough to fool White¡¯s Guard.


    None of his sleeping passengers had so much as stirred when he moved them to their new shared quarters on the barge. They all deserved the rest they were getting and he wouldn¡¯t steal it from them by being careless with them, seeing as it may be their last good rest for a long time to come. So he¡¯d spent his time alone, thinking of what to say and more importantly how to say it. He knew there was a ¡®right¡¯ way to go about this but with them all together at once, it was¡­. Complicated. He refused to split them up, partly for convenience sake, and partly because he wanted them to wake around friends; Korrin being the exception to that reason.


    Just be yourself, you lovable bastard. Tell them the truth! That should be easy!


    But it wasn¡¯t. He had been literally everyone else he possibly could have been aside from himself for the past five years. It was as much an attempt to hide from himself as it was to hide from Lord White. His head hit the door to the other¡¯s shared cabin with a thud as he sighed in an intimate defeat. This was a moment he had been looking forward to and dreading for so long now¡­. He didn¡¯t know if he could handle it being real.


    You have to handle it. You¡¯re the only one who can. Suck it up. Tell them everything.


    He knew he could spend the whole day arguing with himself on his side of the door but it would accomplish nothing and they¡¯d wasted enough time. White¡¯s plans were ever-advancing and he needed help to stop them. He¡¯d tried alone before¡­. and failed.


    Tell them the truth. ¡°Right.¡±


    He let out a long, quiet breath and stood tall with his best smile plastered on. Even his hair bounced with a feigned optimism as if it was in on his act. Once he was satisfied with his own mask of flesh, the man opened the door before him and stood in the middle of a decent-sized room made from knick knackery, and literal garbage, with four expertly crafted medical cots situated in each corner. None of his passenger-patient-friends had woken yet so he conjured up a chair using some of the metal from his garbage barge¡¯s nearby columns. When no one stirred he took in a deep breath and practiced aloud;


    ¡°I have worn the suit of Fernwick the Whitesguard. I have worn the suit of Schuri the merchant. I have been hundreds of people over the past five years but I¡­¡± his heart was racing, pounding against his ribcage in a painful mutiny. It¡¯s just your fucking name. Say it! ¡°I¡­ I am Mezir De Blancana and I need all of your help to kill my father.¡±


    He was stunned by hearing his own words.


    Again. ¡°I am Mezir.¡±


    He was smiling at the feeling of it rolling off of his lips before long.


    ***


    Patri was the first one to wake up.


    He awoke slowly at first, barely ruffling his thin cotton blanket and mumbling to himself. A few grumbles and groans later and Patri had finally opened his eyes, looking straight up at the ceiling of the barge. The Garbage Barge. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    ¡°Wha¡­. what in the names of all the holy fucking Legends?! This.. this has got to be one of the Seven Layers- Creator''s cold blood I must have bit the dust. Oh man¡­ oh no¡­ this¡­ wha-¡±


    Mezir couldn¡¯t hold it in any longer. He let out the loudest, hardest, most sincere laugh he had let out in a lifetime. Patri ranted and fumbled out of bed, wrapping his blanket about his legs and nearly tripping on a canister uprooted from the barge''s shotty foundation. When Mezir saw what sat above Patri¡¯s bed he couldn¡¯t blame the man for his assumption; though it only made it more hilarious. Stationed directly above Patri¡¯s cot was a medical mannequin missing half of its face with framework and tech hanging out of it¡¯s empty eye socket.


    Mezir nearly doubled over with streams of tears running down his cheeks.


    ¡°Oh- oh, fucking-shit Pat, ah!¡± He lost his breath and broke into another laughing fit.


    Patri¡¯s face blanched, then scrunched, and as color returned to his cheeks he began slowly walking towards Mezir.


    ¡°Carnelian skin like some gold shitting god-¡± Patri¡¯s face was slowly relaxing, one might say his lips had the slightest upward curl- ¡°off-putting eyes, eerily white as the snows that fall upon the Shard Lands,¡± his smile basically spread from ear to ear now and he was only a couple steps away from Mezir, ¡°Big as shit now and with a new bushy beard to boot¡­ but that curly as a Lady¡¯s pubic hair and that perfect bastard smile of yours give you away you sonuvabitch!¡± Patri threw his arms around Mezir and squeezed him hard, laughing and sputtering out tears at the same time. Mezir held his dear friend close and cried along with him.


    ¡°Ever the wordsmith, old friend!¡±


    ¡°That better not be a jib about my age you spry fuck.¡± Patri blubber-chuckled snot onto Mezir¡¯s shirt.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you woke up first Pat.¡±


    ¡°Aye, nothing like cut-rate entertainment first thing in the morning huh? Ole Pat always delivers, kid.¡± He pulled away from Mezir and looked up into his eyes, joy still red in his russet cheeks as he wiped his face. ¡°I¡¯ve got so many questions for you Mezir¡­. I don¡¯t know where to even begin.¡± Patri¡¯s gaze softened a little, became soberer. ¡°So much has happened- and where have you been- oh, and Amberosin?! Mezir where is-¡± he caught sight of her cot and fell to his knees before plopping to his back. ¡°Please tell me you came back to tell me it is time to retire. My heart can¡¯t take this anymore.¡±


    Mezir gave a hearty laugh and conjured up another chair next to his own. Patri laid on the ground for a minute letting his heart and mind settle before he crawled into his seat next to Mezir.


    Dramatic as ever. He couldn¡¯t help but smile at the old fool.


    They sat there for a moment in silence, neither of them sure what to say, as if there was simply just too much for either of them to process. It was a weighted silence, but not awkward.


    ¡°I think it¡¯s best if we wait for the others to get up before we start storytime Pat. You know how much I hate having to repeat myself.¡±


    ¡°Ha! As does half of the port district of Blancana you loxon-lunged freak!¡±


    Their laughter resounded off the walls of the barge in harmony with the waves outside as they remembered one of their many nights spent out drinking near the port after one of Mezir¡¯s endless assignments from Lord White. The exact details were hazy to the both of them but one thing was abundantly clear; Mezir had yelled in Patri¡¯s ear at the top of his lungs, ¡°I don¡¯t want your damn nuts in my mouth, Patti!¡±


    Mezir and Patri reminisced for nearly an hour before one of the others woke up.


    To neither of their surprise, it was Amberosin who rolled out of her cot, stretched without a care in the world, and strutted over to where both men sat. Mezir was fairly certain he hadn¡¯t healed her well enough for the incision in her back to be completely healed already but he didn¡¯t say anything. It was her choice, after all. She had stared at Mezir with a serious expression on her face that he returned for a good thirty seconds before breaking into a huge grin and laughing with a slap on his knee, in duet with Patri¡¯s own chuckles.


    It seemed to be the laugh that had done it.


    ¡°Me¡­. Mezir? But¡­ you¡¯re huge and the beard and¡­ who the fuck is walking around wearing your mask- wait. Wait. where the fuck have you been?!¡± No one was laughing anymore. Patri seemed downright scared.


    Not exactly the reunion he had been hoping for. Then again, she had been a small child when he had last seen her. Mezir wasn¡¯t exactly sure of who she was anymore, aside from the obvious angry badass that stood before him with a near snarl on her face.


    ¡°Please, Amb. Amberosin¡­ I know there is a lot I need to explain but I¡­ I can¡¯t do that until everyone else is awake, yeah? I healed everyone a few days ago and Pat just woke up, so hopefully, those two will soon.¡± He gestured to Ta¡¯k, who the others only knew as ¡®Silent One¡¯ according to Patri, and Korrin- who Patri had evidently referred to as ¡®Eyepatch¡¯.


    Amberosin fumed for a minute before looking at Patri who shrugged, ¡°All I know right now is I am alive and Mezir, the real Mezir, is the reason why I am alive.¡±


    ¡°Fine¡­. But can someone tell me why we are floating in a¡­ garbage¡­ prison?¡±


    ¡°It''s a lovely barge that I made with recycled goods. I am quite proud.¡± Mezir chanced a smile in her direction. She seemed reluctant at first, but she bit.


    ¡°So it''s a garbage¡­ barge?¡±


    ¡°With a little bit of essence for an illusion, we look just like one of White¡¯s barges.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ so a garbage barge?¡±


    ¡°Yes, Amberosin. We are in a garbage barge.¡± Mezir grumbled.


    ¡°Watch it Amb, he¡¯s touchy about his trash boat!¡±


    Amberosin broke and cracked a smile before shaking her head and plopping down on the ground before them. ¡°How''s the quiet guy?¡± She peeked up at Mezir like a child waiting to hear about their sickly mother. It nearly broke his heart.


    ¡°Well¡­ he drained himself entirely healing you, then siphoned a whole lot of essence from Noctra and lost it all in a moments notice¡­ he probably has es-sickness, and he definitely hasn¡¯t had any rest in a long time¡­ so I did what I could but honestly, there''s no telling until he wakes up. Oh, and he has a name¡­ but I can¡¯t tell you all without his permission.. So there''s that.¡±


    Why was this so awkward, so hard? He was general, he¡¯d led an army, a rebellion! He¡¯d ascended to the status of Legend all by his own merit and was trying to stop his father¡¯s plans, a man many fancied a god among the rabble. Why was it so hard to tell someone you loved something that hurt?


    They¡¯re just words. Mezir thought rashly, ¡­ but how many times have my own words led men to their deaths? Mezir dropped to the ground in front of Amberosin.


    ¡°Let me rest up a little more and if he hasn¡¯t stirred by tomorrow morning I¡¯ll get back to work using everything that I know.¡± Mezir was staring her down, eye to goggled eye, so she knew he was serious.


    ¡°I give you my word. I will save him.¡±

 Chapter Twenty- Two

    Where in all the Seven Underland''s am I?


    The house was nice. Really nice. Walls made of whitewood cedar from the depths of Trallengard¡¯s Wilders were adorned with golden, brass, and crystal sconces that each held multicolored balls of shining essence. Every piece of furniture was intricately designed and ornate beyond all reason, though she scarcely noticed their lavishness. The main thing that caught Korrin¡¯s eye is that all of the furniture was massive, even the almost plain chairs carved with small blessings of the Ta¡¯ towered leagues above her.


    This is insane- I was on the rooftop... With Jorrick- Jorrick?!


    She didn¡¯t see her brother¡­ but she realized she could see everything else. Korrin was taking in the world around her with both eyes.


    No. No, this is impossible. Think Korrin. Make sense of the senseless... You met with Lord White at the estate, he nearly maimed ¡®Slim-with-the-strong-chin-and-exquisite-ass¡¯, you saw Heria and then- and then you gave your report¡­.


    Lord White had held her hand all the way down the grand hall that ran from his gargantuan study to the first quarters of the ¡°Indentured¡± as they¡¯d been deemed after White had become Grand Councilor. Korrin had only tried to interrupt her Lord¡¯s joyful jabbering once before realizing he was purposely leading her away from prying ears; all the Indentured would be out spying for White at that late an hour, acting as his eyes across Blancana. He¡¯d been so charming and kind Korrin had hardly noticed how empty the entire estate had been. But she had noticed. She just knew better than to ask.


    As soon as she revealed where the bandaged ¡®Silent One¡¯ had stopped with his¡­ interesting companions, Lord White demanded she go sit and observe atop the shop''s roof. Not even time for a shower. Korrin had sat for three hours with an ever silent Jorrick by her side atop the roof of Schuri¡¯s shop before Lord White arrived with his group of guards. By then her joints were stiff, groaning in protest to any movement, so she had decided to stretch. Then¡­


    What then? Come on Korr-


    ¡°Korrin? Honey, are you in here?¡± A woman, even taller than the massive furniture that already dwarfed Korrin, wearing a delicate-looking violet dress with one too many ruffles poked her head into the gigantic room. Korrin was frozen in place for a moment. The woman was dazzling. Sure, a little plain by noble Blancanan standards, but her auburn hair burned bright in synchronicity with her tuscan red skin. Her silky blue eyes were peppered with a green shine and it stole Korrin¡¯s very breath.


    ¡°Korrin, honey, come on it is almost time to go. If we are late again I¡¯ll never hear the end of it!¡± The woman smiled at Korrin. Despite her internal protests to not go to this stranger, her body sped directly into the lovely giantesses arms. She heard herself giggling with delight as another giant, a bearded man with the typical golden-umber skin of a native Blancanan set against light brown eyes and a head of obsidian hair, entered the room. He wore a simple black suit with a pearlescent tie to match shining white lines of embroidered flowers and birds all about the rich cloth, even down to the pants. He held a small child in his arms, smiling even larger than the woman had upon finding her.


    ¡°You know, your mother¡¯s heart may explode trying to keep up with you one day, my little Lady!¡± He laughed and held the infant in his arms towards her, a little boy if his outfit spoke to such things, with mismatched eyes just like her. ¡°Isn¡¯t that right, Jorrick?¡±


    The baby squealed with pure delight.


    I¡­ I don¡¯t understand. That isn¡¯t my mother. This isn¡¯t my life. Is it? Was it?


    She didn¡¯t get much time to think before they all moved towards a giant door constructed of solid gold and natural wilderoak, finished with a cherry dark stain. Small strings of silver essence glittered up and down the frame of the threshold. Jorrick raised his hands up at the glittering specks and laughed so hard the whole family ended up giggling along with him, dreaming Korrin included. A dream was all that made sense.


    Or a memory. She didn¡¯t want to deal with the emotions of discovering a memory of some far off fantasy-


    The ornate door burst open in a plume of smoke. Splintered wood cut into her arms and chubby toddler¡¯s fingers as she was suddenly on the ground. Her beautiful mother above her, hunched on her knees with crimson spreading across the violet of her dress. There, in that moment, Korrin saw her. Knew her. The dead eyes of her mother looked just as she remembered, except for the fact that Korrin recalled those dead eyes pumped full of synth-es on the dirty, downtrodden roads of Blancana¡¯s slums. She wanted to run, to close her eyes, to wake up from this nightmare but something was nagging her, begging her to stay and watch what was to unfold.


    If it is just a dream, I have nothing to be afraid of, right? Right¡­ I guess.


    It didn¡¯t matter, her dream self refused to relent.


    Korrin stayed there in the helpless body of her younger ¡®dream self¡¯ and heard her mother''s very last breath above her. There was a word her death rattle but Korrin couldn¡¯t make it out.


    It was probably something beautiful, just like her.


    Through the gap between her mother''s arm and the tiled floors that danced with lifelike images of fluttering creatures and plants that swayed in rhythm, Korrin saw her father. She knew that was wrong, it had to be wrong, he died fighting in the Fracturing like thousands of others. But there he was, right before her very eyes, bleeding out much the same as her mother; covering the small infantile Jorrick with his body. He looked Korrin¡¯s way and found her staring at him from beneath his already cold wife. He smiled at his darling ¡®little Lady¡¯. She saw the life fade from his eyes.


    This is all just a nightmare. A fucked up¡­ creepy, totally false-


    The baby was still moving beneath the man.


    Squirming his way out from beneath their father¡¯s corpse, little hands begging his protector to move, he bleated and shed tears that were more precious to Korrin in that moment than any gemstone would ever be. Blood covered Jorrick¡¯s sweet, miniature suit, though it all seemed to belong to their father. Korrin¡¯s little arms were moving before she realized, clawing at the ground to pull herself free of her dead mother. She was fighting to save her brother. Dream or not. Korrin could never just stand idly by while he was in danger. Her small legs wouldn¡¯t allow her to stand, too weak with terror to be of any use, so she crawled all the way over to their father and ambled over his quickly cooling body. All she could smell was blood. All she saw was Jorrick, not even a full hand''s length away, but when she reached for darling baby brother Korrin¡¯s body was lifted upward.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    She never heard the footsteps behind her. Nor had she been aware of a man standing there shaking his head, tsk tsk tsk, he said, ¡° How I do hate to break up siblings. Alas, I¡¯ve recently had a boy added to the ranks and¡­ if I am being honest¡­ they disgust me when they are this little. So helpless and weak and¡­ flabby. Ah. Dispose of the boy. The girl will come with me when we are done here.¡±


    ¡°Sir.¡±


    Korrin heard the shuffling of armor-clad feet before boots clad in White with a ¡®W¡¯ branded on the side came into view, ripping a tear in the crimson lake below her. Just beside a now screaming Jorrick.


    No! No, this cannot be happening! This¡­ this isn¡¯t real. Wake up Korrin, wake the fuck up! Please¡­


    Her toddler-dream body convulsed and Korrin saw her flabby arms reach out for her baby brother, tears streaming down her chubby face in a silent terror. Her left hand had been mangled by the explosion and hung limp, lifeless. The massive hands about her tiny dream body that held her like a sack of produce were gloved in white leather with gold trim. That was when it struck her; the voice of the man who held her. She knew exactly who it was. Korrin could never mistake the voice of her dear Lord White.


    ¡°Oh, little one. Sh. Sh, now.¡± His free hand patted her back before he moved it to her head and held her there with a grip like a five-fingered viper, forcing her to watch as a soldier with a look of horror all his own picked up a tiny, squirming Jorrick, mismatched eyes full of tears as he banshee screamed his way into the man''s arms. An abrupt, cold silence followed as the baby met with the soldier''s blade. Spilling fresh red down his pearlescent white armor, steel and heavy on his chest as he hunched over to puke.


    ¡°Oh¡­ poor boy. Poor¡­ poor boy¡­ well, now I feel bad!¡± The dream White carried Korrin over to the soldier still getting sick and without a moment''s notice shoved a blade into the young man¡¯s temple. ¡°It is going to take the servants hours to scrub the red out of that armor. Ah. Might as well throw it out.¡± As White turned to leave with an adolescent Korrin in arm, he held a hand out to his remaining guards and squeezed his fist. Every guard¡¯s bones tore through their skin as they were impaled on their own spines. Korrin could hear the gasp of fading essence but there was nothing else¡­ until White started to hum. A tune she knew. A tune she¡¯d known her whole life.


    It proved to be too much for her to go any further. In an instant the mulitcolored carnage and gore set against the extravagant backdrop of a lovely manor, her family¡¯s lovely manor, disappeared. Sucked into one point of consciousness that shone brilliantly, before her eyes tore open. Korrin looked around her small metal cot, met the stares of three people gathered in a room that was made of¡­ trash?


    And promptly puked her fucking guts out.


    ***


    Patri put his hand over his mouth and gagged so hard he felt like his throat was trying to jump out. He absolutely hated to be around when other people puked, the sound, the smell¡­. The sight alone had even triggered his own horrible retching from across a pub, more than once. When ¡®Eyepatch¡¯, who Mezir swore was little baby Korrin from back in the day, woke up and immediately started vomiting upon seeing them, he had nearly lost it. Patri ground his teeth together as hard as he could, willing the saliva in his mouth to relent, afraid that if he swallowed it down, it would just come back up with much, much worse in tow. He knew his diet was shit and it always tasted as such on the way back up.


    I will not give Amberosin the pleasure- not today! The wild young woman knew about his weakness and was never one to pass up a chance to use it against him. Don¡¯t look at her Pat, don¡¯t do it.


    He did. Of course.


    As soon as Patri¡¯s gaze fell on Amberosin she feigned a gag and held her stomach in a mock dry heave, hand over her mouth. No doubt covering a shit-eating grin.


    Come on, Patri, listen to your own advice damn you!


    He held back a savage retch of his own and steeled his eyes shut.- which was a huge mistake.


    The darkness he summoned behind his eyelids to hide Amberosin¡¯s mock puking only served to enhance the sound of Eyepa- uh, Korrin¡¯s- actual puking. This time his teeth parted without so much as a struggle and let a surge of sickness explode out of his mouth.


    Yep. Taste just like¡­ whatever tastes worse than shit. Burnt shit? Dog shit?


    Burnt dog shit¡­ great. I have got to start eating better.


    ***


    Mezir looked back over his shoulder in time to see Patri double over and fall into a mess of his own making. An ever-helpful Amberosin laid sprawled on the ground not ten steps away holding her guts in a fit of violently satisfied laughter. He couldn¡¯t help but smile.


    What does it say about me that I¡¯ve been dreaming about this for years?


    Mezir laughed aloud at Patri¡¯s misfortune alongside Amberosin in a- lovingly -cruel duet. Korrin¡¯s patch had been disheveled during her bout of sickness, uncovering both her emerald green and sapphire blue eyes, which she locked on to Mezir. She had recognized his laugh. Just like Amberosin, his laugh had solidified his identity to them in a matter of moments. He felt a quiet sense of pride about the fact but forced it down to indulge in it privately later. Mezir didn¡¯t want to waste his chance.


    His laugh subsided naturally, quietly, before he met Korrin¡¯s gaze with intent.


    ¡°Korrin¡­ Little- well, I guess I can¡¯t call you that anymore, can I?¡± Mezir¡¯s smile was rueful, though absolutely sincere. ¡°Korrin. I¡¯m not sure how much you remember about me but you remember my laugh? You know it''s me, right?¡± He hoped his eyes pleaded as much as his heart. He needed her on their side. If she didn¡¯t side with them¡­ if she stayed allied with White¡­


    ¡°Mezir. I¡­ I know it¡¯s you.¡± She nodded her head slowly and moved forward, hand upon his right cheek. ¡°I¡­ I knew that wasn¡¯t you behind the mask¡­ but Lord- uh, your father he¡­¡±


    ¡°He lied, Korrin. It''s all he''s ever done.¡± Mezir could see it in her face. A confused, sorrowful look. And he knew.


    It worked!


    He¡¯d felt a blockage of essence when he had been binding her leg. Mezir had followed it and used his self crafted mask to expose the root problem. A clot of black essence sitting atop Korrin¡¯s brain. He had removed it without hesitation. A bit impulsive, he admitted, but entirely necessary. The black clot could have been doing anything from tracking her to controlling her entirely. There was always the chance it could have broken her, mentally, but Mezir thought she was strong enough to recover. Hoped.


    ¡°What¡­ what I saw?¡± Her hand shook as she brought it back to her own head. Memories were bouncing about conflicting with one another like a sack of marbles being thrashed about by a running child, he knew. Mezir had been there before. Recovering. Sifting. Erasing. Remembering.


    Mezir simply nodded and set his hands on her shoulders.


    Korrin burst into tears and fell into Mezir¡¯s chest.


    Now we are just waiting on Ta¡¯k. Once he wakes up-


    A loud, timed banging broke through his thoughts. It came from the barges only door, which was situated towards the docks, as was regulatory of all vessels in Blancana. It was cast with an impeccable illusion and was one of Mezir¡¯s best pieces of work. Not to mention it was the middle of the night and there was no way-


    ¡°White¡¯s Guard. This is the White¡¯s guard. We need to speak to the owner of this vessel. Immediately.¡±

 Twenty-Three

    Chapter Twenty-Three


    Twenty-three!


    Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso was exhausted, exhilarated, and extremely nervous. There were only two days left until she turned twenty-three, two days left before she could partake in the Crucible! Her mother and father were against it, of course, as they were incessantly worried about their ¡°special girl¡± hurting herself.


    Their coddling has never done me any good before. Now is no different.


    Except that it was.


    As a child, Lili-Bon had been absolutely terrified of loud noises, so her parents had soundproofed her room and forced the young girl to wear sound muffling mittens on her ears whenever she left home as if she hadn¡¯t stood out enough already among the other noble children. Lili was nearly certain the ear muffs had earned her the moniker ¡°Simple-Lil¡±, which stuck even now as her old classmates moved on to positions of prowess and power. The ones who were still alive, anyway.


    When Lili¡¯s mother noticed that her young daughter preferred things to have order and followed her own unique schedule, as most with her condition tended to, she¡¯d made moves to ensure that Lil-Bon always had the exact same servants, in the same positions, every day. At the time, as with all her parent''s precautions and maneuvers, it was greatly appreciated by a young Lili. As she grew older though, she began to feel more cramped, like her freedoms were being limited by overbearing parents attempting to garner some sense of control in their own hectic lives.


    Lili-Bon¡¯s first personal interaction with Grand Councilor White was during her father¡¯s inauguration onto White¡¯s court, just five short years before the Fracturing. It was the only time in her life, to that point, that anyone had spoken to Lili like a normal person. Lili-Bon hadn¡¯t even noticed how patronizing everyone else had been before until her first conversation with their Lord. White ignored her condition as a part of her identity, while also respecting her rules of space. He allowed her time to think without ever being asked to do so, despite being the most powerful, important man in the world. He waited. Lord White¡¯s kindness and sincerity in accepting her as a true individual resonated with the awe-struck Lili-Bon. She was sure it would until the day she died.


    Lili also liked the fact that she didn¡¯t have to avoid eye contact when talking to him.


    Within weeks of their meeting she was studying and training in the marble halls of White¡¯s estate alongside an ever-talented Mezir, before the war, and the intensely willful Heria, after the war. She learned and practiced everything they did even with her many ¡®quirks¡¯. It had taken the largest, loudest, most vicious argument Lili could have ever imagined experiencing with her mother just to be allowed the privilege of asking her father for permission- to then ask Lord White to teach her.


    Lord White himself had actually had a hand in the outcome.


    Lili-Bon¡¯s father had sided with her mother, of course, but just as they were dismissing her in father¡¯s new office, Lord White had come in. He was accompanied by his handsome son Mezir to the offices of the counselors for some reason and she had taken her chance and expressed a bit of spontaneity that stamped a scowl on her mother''s face. Lili asked Lord White directly if she may be allowed to receive an education like Mezir and White had loved the idea.


    ¡°Mezir needs a good influence around these days, keeps getting into trouble, this one!¡±


    Mother had been none too happy of course, but her father¡¯s eyes sparkled with possibilities that he would later share with her. Often.


    That meeting had been her first step to freedom.


    The Crucible was the next step. Hopefully, not the last.


    Lili-Bon had been sick with worry for weeks on end but she was determined to survive whatever they threw her way inside the testing grounds. She needed to become a White¡¯s guard. She would hardly be the first child of a noble family to make it into the guard and she would undoubtedly not be the last. The only thing that set her apart from the other noble participants was that she didn¡¯t have her family''s blessing¡­. That and no one believed she could do it. No one except Lord White.


    Where everyone else had offered half-hearted advice and pitiful looks while planning what extravagant piece of fabric to wear to her funeral, White had equipped her with the tools she would need. Something her family would have done for her if she had been ¡°normal¡±, she was sure. Without their official blessing, they were barred from providing any financial support in her endeavors, however, if she made it into White¡¯s Guard she would be able to renounce her noble ties. Earning her true freedom.


    Lili-Bon would be more than happy to disavow her family as they had her own dreams and desires.


    They wanted me to be a vegetable, totally reliant, and subservient. That¡¯s why they had adopted me outside of normal means. They just wanted a charity case, not a daughter. Bragging rights, not an actual human being. I have had the training that was necessary! I have the tools! I have the ri-


    Lili-Bon was interrupted by one of her White¡¯s guards waving hand from across the street. They were always ten paces ahead and two to the right. Always. The hand wave was only meant to be used during emergencies and was, essentially, all the interaction she had with the two guards; Seben and Vicon. They had been serving her personally since she was a small child and upon entering the Nu¡¯ Council her father had allotted all of his vassals and security personnel to be named White¡¯s guard- or better. As such, she knew they were extremely loyal and trustworthy, though it still boiled her blood to have her walk interrupted.


    Stay here please, Lady. Vicon¡¯s hand told her.


    Lili-Bon smiled politely in return despite her ire and raised a hand of her own. Will do.


    Both guards bowed slightly, turned, and drew their long, dazzling sabers that illuminated the street before them. All guards were allowed to choose their own weaponry, so long as they carried one of the smooth, opalescent blades as well, for official business. She tried her best to follow their path in the darkness beyond the many lamp posts around her but Lili¡¯s eyes had yet to adjust. She took a breath and focused intently on their swords cutting through the darkness. After a moment she could see where marble roads turned to cobblestone.


    The harbor? There shouldn¡¯t be anything over there except¡­. a barge or two? Why in the world have they stopped my stroll to go and meander over to some unseemly vessel in the middle of the night! Do they not even realize they¡¯ve abandoned their charge in the dark of a very¡­. empty¡­ port. Ah. Right. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.


    Lili-Bon chose to walk at this time of night specifically to avoid running into others.


    So I am entirely...


    Both her guards had already very nearly gotten to the barge¡¯s single door when she realized she was actually alone. Lili-Bon truly couldn¡¯t remember the last time when she had been alone. There was always someone there. Always. The point of taking her walks at such a late hour was to avoid being around anyone while she could¡­ and think. Generally, Lili may see another guard or two, maybe a merchant closing late. Almost always a homeless person resting in an alley somewhere. More and more of those popped up in the port as the years went on it seemed, unable to find room in the southern and western districts; officially the districts of laborers.


    Unofficially, too full of their own homeless and downtrodden to handle anymore. They¡¯d nearly integrated everyone from the - once slums- of Blancana just outside their borders wall according to White¡¯s reports. Still, she nearly always saw some dirty, starving man or woman on her outings. Lili-Bon always brought food along with her to give to them, just in case.


    That night, there was only one such person nearby. He slept, loudly, in an alley a few feet ahead and to her left. The narrow tunnel created by the port merchant¡¯s walls made the sounding of his carefree snoring reverberate all around. It made him sound more like a guttural beast than a sleeping man.


    Just because the man has no charm and my guards have no sense of duty doesn¡¯t mean he should starve.


    That was that. Any small discomfort she had conjured upon hearing his uproarious snores completely vanished. It was simple to Lili-Bon. He was unhoused, unfed, from the look and smell of him as she got closer, most definitely unbathed; ultimately underprivileged. She was not. She had plenty to give. So she did.


    Lili-Bon felt no great purpose to feed the unfed and had no real desire to be a charitable person for the sake of it; it was purely logical. Logic is where she prevailed, it was emotions where she found herself confused and uncomfortable. Altogether a bit¡­ lacking in the area of expression and interpretation of emotions, Lili spent a lot of time studying people when she thought they would not see. She looked for any curves or twitches and guessed at what they may be feeling, what she would look like feeling that emotion. Happiness and sadness were easy¡­ though she honestly struggled with sympathy. Still, Lili knew what was right and what was wrong. Giving the loud slumbering vagrant was the right thing to do. She was certain.


    It was also beneficial to her studies of people¡¯s feelings. The sleeping man was smiling, which usually meant happy unless the person was lying or acting, like Lili, but something about his smile was¡­ concerning to her. His lips were unmoving even as his chest rose up and down in time with his monstrous snores. His nostrils didn¡¯t flair.


    Illogical Lili, entirely illogical. It is very dark out and the nearest lamp post is a good ten steps behind you. You can¡¯t possibly see all that. Stop speculating. Besides, you¡¯ve got your blade on hand, show some courage now. Be good. Be strong.


    Lili-Bon pushed down whatever strange feeling had nearly caused her to turn, to flee from a man very obviously in need. She chided herself, shaking her head and muttering about morality, as she gently placed a sack of food against his side. Lili held the hilt of her lovely blade as she did so. Fear was another one of the easier emotions for her. She lived with it as a constant, though usually, she didn¡¯t suffer fear of sleeping men.


    ¡°White¡¯s guard¡­ owner¡­. Immediately.¡± Seben¡¯s voice carried over across the street in segments, though Lili-Bon could hear the woman banging on the barges door with her expertly toned arms clearly. Turning towards the barge she could see both guards alight in the glow of their own swords.


    What a waste of time! Seben should know better, the woman¡¯s father owns half of the harbor! If anyone is aboard the barge they¡¯re likely asleep¡­ but maybe they have orders. Ugh. I suppose I should walk a little closer and see if-


    Suddenly the night overtook her. A terrifying black wrapped around her head. Lili could make out a faint swirling in the mass of darkness and she swore the swirling shadows formed a smiling face for just a moment.


    Impossible. Breath. This just an episode. Breath.


    The darkness didn¡¯t fade. Didn¡¯t begin to recede from her vision. Dilated pupils revealed to Lili-Bon that it was not just around her head that black prevailed, it was all around in swathes. Only patches of the port broke through the thick shadows, patches of marble reflecting light from the lamp posts above. For a moment she saw the lights from Seben and Vicon¡¯s sabers, she hoped desperately they would look her way and see the vortex of death swirling about her, but as soon as she saw them, they flickered out of existence.


    Lili-Bon closed her eyes and yanked forth the ornate blade from beneath her shawl.


    Remember what Heria taught you. Remember how Mezir inspired you. Don¡¯t be a failure¡­ Not now Lili-Bon. You¡¯re so close!


    She¡¯d never actually cast, never once had she manipulated essence, even after the Fracturing when most all the living beings on Noctra became at least proficient at casting, she was too wary. All her life the physicians had told Lili-Bon that essence would reject her. Kill her.


    ¡°It may break your body, it may break your mind. Either way, it will surely break you. I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Everyone is always so sorry¡­ but are they really? If they were, wouldn¡¯t they try to help? It''s magic. Fucking magic! There should surely be a way¡­


    ¡°Be strong Lili-Bon.¡±  Was that in my head? That sounded just like¡­ no, impossible, he would be sleeping at the estate now. Right?


    ¡°Now, girl, don¡¯t hesitate. Just will it!¡±


    The voice was definitely not within her mind¡­ but it was out beyond the living darkness.


    ¡°Help me!¡± Lili-Bon squeezed her eyes shut. Pathetic! No¡­ logical. Asking for Help is always logical. Right?


    ¡°I can¡¯t dear¡­ Lili-Bonnett! You¡¯re too far now- feel- got¡­. Please!¡± His screams were getting harder and harder to hear.


    Far? Where th- the fuck am I going?! Stop! Think. No- Feel. He said feel!


    And she did. She felt a surge of hope, of joy, draped in a thick sheet of fear blanketed in a dread she¡¯d never known. It was too much all at once and she nearly collapsed in on herself. It was wonderful and painful beyond all measure- feeling the essence move through her with a life all it¡¯s own, feelings all it¡¯s own. Lili-Bon had never known that essence itself was truly alive. No one had ever told her.


    She held tight to all of those feelings, to all of the essence accumulated within her, and cast it out down the length of her blade. The falcata went aglow like a prismatic beam, every color visible to the human eye split down the sword, shining greatest at the pinnacle of the curve and finally out at the tip where it blasted forth into the growing darkness. Lili-Bon¡¯s emotions shot out into the world and cleared a path for her back to the port as the swirling black that engulfed her world shrieked as if burned by a lit torch. Then she followed the light, traveled down it at a speed that turned her stomach, and flew out of the mouth of a dark cloud that could only have been the size of her body.


    Impossible¡­ all of this¡­. It has to be. Impossible.


    An eerie skittering of naked human feet running through something wet passed far too close to her left- am I laying? When did I fall?!-  before a small, entirely nude woman with endlessly curling black hair passed overhead. She landed, rolled, and dashed up a building to the right... on all four limbs that moved inhumanely fast. Then she was gone.


    New darkness began to overtake Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso. A completely natural black was falling over her vision, beckoning her to sleep.


    The last thing she saw was the man who had been sleeping before, or who she thought had been sleeping before. A blade stuck out of his back and his eyes were scorched black, mouth agape.


    ¡°Oh, my dear Lili-Bonnet, how much you have grown.¡±


    Someone lifted her from the ground and she heard the clattering of her blade as it hit the marble roads.

 Twenty-Four

    Chapter Twenty-Four


    ¡°... and we can¡¯t find Lili-Bon, Ragoth. Or Korrin¡­. Those sweet, sweet girls.¡±


    Ragoth knew better than to open his eyes while Lord White poured his emotions- his truths- into the quickly fading darkness. This had become a near-nightly occurrence and he had learned long ago not to stir or open his eyes if he did happen to wake during White¡¯s tangents. It was the only time he heard his name come from the man without malice or disgust behind it. He always listened intently.


    ¡°Ragoth. I-¡± Lord White took a deep breath and cleared his throat, quietly. ¡°Ragoth, my boy, I know that I can be¡­ harsh, cruel even- but I do love you- all of you. All of my children, blood or not. My friends¡­. All of Noctra- yes even those who despise me, which I know is most these days- even they¡­ I love.¡± He sighed, dejected, and laid a soft, naked hand on Ragoth¡¯s stubble pocked cheek. ¡°Still. I¡¯ve done terrible things in the name of that love, least of all to you and dear Hele- Heria - I know¡­. and will undoubtedly do even worse in the days to come¡­ but the ones who remain must be ready for the coming storm. I simply... Want you to remain.¡± Silence sat upon them as White leaned over and pressed his forehead to Ragoth¡¯s.


    Lord White talked about this coming storm more often than not during these ¡®midnight monologues¡¯ of his but Ragoth had no idea what he meant. He¡¯d been able to piece a vague picture together over the years but all he¡¯d surmounted was someone else was going to do something even worse than what White had already. Not something Ragoth really wanted to stick around for, though he did appreciate the sentiment more than he cared to admit.


    Ragoth felt a warm drop splash just on his upper lip and struggled not to wipe away the salty bead. White may have been testing him to see if he was awake. One could never know.


    After a moment Lord White rose from Ragoth¡¯s bedside, wiped the solitary tear from his cheek, and turned back to the window, facing the start of a new day.


    ¡°I just wanted to let you know about Korrin and Lili-Bon. Let you know that I do care¡­ that I- I only broke you to make you stronger. So we could stop him together¡­. And now¡­ now that smug bastard is back at it- I¡¯d bet the estate he never even stopped trying to tear everything I¡¯ve built down. Foolish boy. Foolish¡­¡±


    Ragoth tried desperately not to revisit the time he spent with Lord White in the wreckage of Stroma Lab¡¯s basement... but his terror was much stronger than his will. Suddenly, he was there. His bed was gone, replaced by a cold hair chair beneath him that held a young Ragoth¡¯s hands down with a simple chain. The sixteen-year-old was whimpering, bleeding about his wrists around the chains with a gash on his head, likely from debris in the explosion. Lord White was there as well, pacing before him. Unscathed The same enigmatic, powerful man he had always been. There was one difference between the White in Ragoth¡¯s room and the White of his memories and that was that the latter didn¡¯t have gold trim adorning his cape.


    There had been no conversation. No explanation of any sort, not so much an utterance from Lord White for hours in that cold, crumbling room. Only the sound of Ragoth¡¯s cries and screams. White¡¯s hands never even touched the boy¡­no, he did all his ¡®work¡¯ with essence. To his credit, he was entirely precise, indeed, methodical as he guided his essence into Ragoth¡¯s own.


    Ragoth¡¯s body jerked, became excruciatingly inflamed one muscle at a time as Lord White took control. He¡¯d guided his essence along Ragoth¡¯s veins like they were roadways. It skipped across every last struggling ligament, taught joint, snapping tendon¡­ and burrowed into his terrified marrow. Ragoth had felt every single particle move inside his body. The sensation burned like a lump of hot coal but left him frozen in its wake. Once White had paralyzed Ragoth¡¯s body he moved to the boy¡¯s mind. It was there that White finally spoke, inside the shared space of his sweating, bloody, foggy head.


    Mezir. You are Mezir. You are. Or you are nothing. Dead. Just like Helena. Now say it.


    Ragoth had broken almost instantly. He screamed the name Mezir, branded it into his mind, and for a short while, he had believed it was true. That he was Mezir De Blancana. He had to. Tragedy¡¯s shock has a way of wearing off, however, when one is faced with it so often. Once it had inevitably done so, Ragoth had merely accepted that he was stuck. For her sake.


    He was back in his bed- sweating, breathing far too quickly. Soaked.


    So long as I didn¡¯t piss. Ragoth went to check his crotch to ensure it wasn¡¯t the origin of any of the bed¡¯s wet but stopped dead when he saw a tall figure in his doorway. Lord White.


    ¡°Ragoth¡­ I love you, son.¡± With that, Lord White was gone.


    The moment the door kissed the threshold Ragoth broke down into a wretched, silent sob. He heaved so hard for air between bursts of tears that he fell to the side of his bed. There he curled and screamed. And screamed. After about ten minutes of this miserable display, a second figure that had been in the shadows near the window slowly made its way to the door and left. Ragoth stayed there sobbing for a moment, just in case they came back in. Lest they discover his ruse.


    When he was sure it was safe Ragoth rose from the floor, grabbed a quill and paper from beneath his bed, and wrote down everything Lord White had talked about. How he had stood when he said it. Who he was actually addressing. It was a horribly hard puzzle but Ragoth¡¯s mind had sharpened over the years pretending to be Mezir and he wrote, scratched, circled, and sighed for another hour before he finally stopped and observed his handy work. It looked like the scribblings of a mad man- and perhaps it was- nonetheless, Ragoth found meaning in the ramblings. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    At the bottom of the page, he underlined three words that made his heart swell with hope.


    ¡°... that smug bastard¡­¡±


    ***


    Amberosin was sprinting with ¡®Silent One-has-a-real-name-but-I-don¡¯t-know-it-yet¡¯ on her back, only a few paces ahead of Patri, a few paces behind Mezir who held his own passenger, and right beside a limping woman named Korrin. Despite keeping what she considered a modest pace for someone carrying a second body, Amberosin was aware that she was close to overdoing it. Whatever Mezir had done he¡¯d saved her life, for that she was grateful, but¡­. It wasn¡¯t quite like when Silent One had healed her. She wasn¡¯t rejuvenated. The incision was closed and she could breathe easier, not perfect, but easier- and was she ever sore¡­ and exhausted. In pain. Her legs were nearly jelly when she woke and by the time Mezir ran back in with a new friend in his arms, Amberosin had only just been able to stand without wavering.


    ¡°Time to go, gang. Someone grab T- uh¡­Sile- ah, the sleeping one, dammit! Let''s go!¡± Mezir turned and shot back out the door of their short-lived ¡®garbage barge¡¯ without looking back.


    Not a single one of them hesitated. Patri scooped up Mezir¡¯s funny looking metal box and took off out the door after Mezir, completely ignorant now to the freezing globs of vomit that dripped down his clothes and covered his arms. Amberosin had whistled to Korrin, thrown her pack at the woman, and grabbed Silent One. They didn¡¯t trust each other, of course. She barely trusted Patri. But they trusted Mezir. And that man was Mezir. There was no mistaking it. Amberosin still wanted an explanation, as they all must, but each one of them had fallen into his command without question.


    That was Mezir De Blancana.


    He was a force. Legend to all Legends. Mezir was the rightful heir to Lord White¡¯s bloody empire and he was leading a ragtag group of vomit-covered, bandaged, crippled, wild people down one of the finest streets in Blancana¡¯s port in the middle of the night holding a sleeping- obviously noble- woman in his arms. Honestly, she was proud to be a part of it, no matter how much like shit she felt¡­. she¡¯d never really been a part of anything aside from the Nomads and it was nice to have a sense of belonging, no matter how trivial. It was nice- though she was pretty sure they were all going to die. Amberosin was quite the proficient gambler for such a young woman and she would never have bet on their little crew making it to morning without some miracle or another.


    She was in pretty miraculous company, however.


    Mezir stopped ahead of her and they all did the same. Patri bumped into Korrin, who bumped into Mezir and fell promptly backward onto her ass as if she¡¯d hit a wall.


    ¡°Well Pat, I never took you for a woman beater! Ha!¡± Mezir laughed, not even winded, beaming at Patri. ¡°Well help her up you heathen and then come here, quickly! It is nearly dawn now, old man.¡± A playful wink made Patri blush and kick into action.


    He held out a hand to help Korrin up, who promptly declined the offer, stood, and insisted it was fine despite Patri''s incessant apologizing. Amberosin gave Patri her own disapproving look that turned to a little smirk as he passed her. He grumbled something but looked back enough that she could see a smile.


    ¡°Alright, take this one- and I don¡¯t want to see her end up on the ground, Pat.¡± Mezir grinned from ear to ear at an ever bashful Patri who sputtered out some silly nonsense and took the sleeping noblewoman from his arms. ¡°Now, where is your guild house old friend?¡±


    ¡°Ah, Uhm, s- southern district. Ya shit.¡± Patri smiled ruefully, cheeks still aflame.


    ¡°Wow, really? Still?¡± A little tsk as he gave Patri a side-eye, ¡°Thought you¡¯d have moved out by now Patty. No worries though, that''s entirely doable.¡±


    Doable? We are in the northern district, further north than the port itself. Even if the guild house is in the outskirts southern district, it would be a few hours at a full sprint. Doable?!


    One glance at Korrin¡¯s incredulous look told Amberosin that she felt much the same about sprinting for hours down the wide-open roads where guards would surely be pouring out in droves, looking for them as they would have been for the past few days now. Patri didn¡¯t seem quite as surprised by the prospect though; the cranky guild leader seemed a bit more terrified than anything.


    ¡°Ah no. Nope. I know that look. That is how you look when you are about to do one of those stupid, crazy, miraculous tricks that very nearly gets everyone killed but somehow still pans out in the end. No. None of those tricks Mezir. I¡¯d rather run.¡±


    ¡°No, no Pat, give me some credit. Its been ten years now¡±


    ¡°Oh, thank the-¡±


    ¡°Yeah, no Pat. I¡¯ve got all new tricks now.¡±


    Mezir smiled wide once more as he spun and crouched low with his hands out to the sides.


    ¡°Everyone get close¡­ and try to hold on to one another. It would be great if we all landed together.¡±


    Landed? Funny choice of words. Landed implies-


    Mezir spun up in the exact reverse motion of his initial crouching and clenched his fist. The ground lurched as Korrin and Patri clasped arms and drug Amberosin close, who threw the sleeping Silent One onto the ground by Mezir¡¯s feet at the group''s center. She grabbed onto Patri¡¯s hand just in time. Tiles of marble and dirt ripped from the ground in the shapes of giant spinning cogs on a long beam that rotated and propelled them forward. Cogs on the bottom fell off after the need for their use was met and disintegrated before falling down. Far down. Amberosin tried to keep her eyes shut but she couldn¡¯t resist.


    They were so high above Blancana that clouds sat between them and the streets below. Even the desert''s usual loud winds didn¡¯t breach as high as they were on their crumbling stack of giant cogs. It was breathtaking. It also nearly caused her to lose her footing and tumble backward off of their small perch.


    ¡°Everyone hold!¡± Mezir¡¯s muscle¡¯s looked like they were going to snap but the big man still smiled and gave a laugh for good measure.


    Suddenly their sky vessel rocketed forward, shedding cogs at a faster rate, using their departure as a way to propel itself even quicker. The whole group was shaking now with the gusts of Blancana. Amberosin closed her eyes once more. It felt like the air would cut clean through her skin if they went any faster against the current and sharp grains of sand were already burrowing into her dermis, leaving small specks of red behind them.


    It''s too much! I can¡¯t hold on¡­ it''s too much. Say it, Amberosin, scream it!


    ¡°Its-¡±


    It was over. One loud, resonating thud and they stopped. No one splattered on the ground and the road about them wasn¡¯t splintered or cracked in the slightest. Their cog craft had melded into the ground and already looked like a native peace of road.


    Mezir was laughing at a puking Patri outside of a building marked with a large golden ¡®T¡±.


    Amberosin smiled and patted Korrin on the back. He did it.


    That crazy bastard.

 Twenty Five

    Patri was cold laying atop his cot, naked with only a small towel in hand. He was freezing with the winds of Blancana¡¯s early morning rushing through his window¡­ but he was clean. The old guild leader had waded through sewers, bodies, manure, and a few things quite a bit worse than the usual stinking shit a thief may find themselves in; it was part of the job. Another part, for Patri at least, was getting good at quickly scrubbing one¡¯s skin clean after a dirty take. He made sure to get behind the ears just like his mother had when he was young, tore a thick wooden comb through his mangled beard, cleaned his hair with a bottle of something that Senfe had given him not too long ago, and even brushed his teeth with the harsh bristles on a stick that he bought from some merchant years ago.


    Patri knew what it was like to half-ass a scrub, thinking you were okay for days on end, only to find a big clot of dry shit on your armpit or leg a week down the road. Some men, and women, that Patri knew could just shrug it off and move on. Patri was not one of those people.


    As soon as Mezir¡¯s spinning tower of terror had landed Patri practically threw the young woman in his arms to a guild member on guard out front and heaved out what little food he had left in his aching belly. He hated heights. Mezir knew that.


    That cruel, magnificent bastard. Patri couldn¡¯t help but smile in his bed.


    He¡¯d just closed his eyes, relishing in the bittersweet joy of reuniting with a dear, dangerous old friend when the door to his quarters creaked open and closed nearly silently. Patri had cut a small hitch in the threshold that made the door creak no matter how careful someone was. Thieves were a cautious bunch, at least the lot he had known, and if one was going to kill the leader of any crew, it usually bodes well to move while they slept. He didn¡¯t move though.


    Patri was pretty sure he knew who it was. The room smelled of cinnamon.


    ¡°Ay there, old girl, you going to stand there gawking at me the whole day? Or are you going to treat me to a nice groping like a proper pervert?¡±


    A chuckle came from the foot of his cot, a sound that warmed his soul.


    Before Patri could open his eyes to look upon the absolute love of his life, she was already down, outside of his view unless he strained his neck greatly to see over his small belly paunch; kissing gently on the inside of either of his thighs.


    I missed you. Her lips told him.


    ¡°Oh, Legends¡­ I missed you, Senfe.¡±


    I missed you so much. She whispered to his mind as her supple mouth slid closer to his groin.


    ¡°I missed you more.¡± Patri was more erect than the needle of a moon dial.


    Senfe smiled, he couldn''t see it- but he knew. Her lips twitched upwards, just before his throbbing excitement, just close enough for him to feel.


    ¡°These are mighty dangerous games you play, miss.¡± Patri gave his own smile, using all of his will to force his body to stay still, no matter how badly his hips yearned to buck.


    Senfe¡¯s warm breath shot out against him as she let out an almost unperceivable laugh. Patri surely wouldn¡¯t have noticed it if she weren¡¯t so¡­ close. But she was. So he did. And then his body betrayed him with just the slightest jump. A minute thrust upward. Senfe moved up, breathing soft, promising gasps all the while. She stopped as far up as she could and Patri could see the top of her beautiful, curled hair. He watched it bounce as she moved very... graciously.


    I win. The blissful enclosure around him screamed as Senfe thrashed her tongue against him.


    ¡°Oh, yes¡­ fuck yes¡± Patri tried to keep his voice down, the walls were pretty thin in the guild house, but she wasn¡¯t making it any easier on him. ¡°Oh¡­ Legends!¡± He sat up now with his hands in her plush, soft black hair, careful not to impede or change her motions. Or mess up her style- she hated that.


    ¡°How in the heavens did I get so lucky?¡±


    With that he felt her smile from inside and nearly lost himself in the pleasure. But Senfe knew him. Knew he¡¯d be close. She came off of him giggling like a giddy woman with a secret. Patri wasn¡¯t sure what was so funny but he didn¡¯t care. Not one bit.


    He smiled and threw his hands around her beautiful strawberry chocolate cheeks, imploring her up as he brought his lips down. Senfe happily obliged. With so much passion as his tired body could manage, Patri kissed the most gorgeous woman he¡¯d ever laid eyes on and was in paradise as she pushed even further up, setting her hands on his shoulders before she forced him to lay back down. None too gentle on his still screaming injury. Patri ignored it. All he could feel was Senfe taking her time as she met her soaked and searing southern lips up and along the shaft of his manhood. She took her time on the ascent, keeping their mouths locked all the while- but once she got to the top, Senfe went absolutely wild.


    Not once did their faces part as they moaned, breathed into and through one another as their burning bodies meshed. Senfe ground into Patri like a feral animal until he could feel her body approaching ecstasy.


    Patri¡¯s couldn¡¯t hold it back any longer. An explosion escaped him and for a moment he felt blissful, lifeless, and happier for it. Senfe held her body hard against his and sighed. They stayed there, entwined until a knock came at the door.


    ¡°Right.¡± Patri tapped her shoulder gently as she laid on top of him.


    ¡°We¡¯ve got some things to discuss, love.¡±


    ¡°No shit. The last person I ever expected to see back down here is that goofy bastard.¡±


    ***


    Amberosin sat with her still stuffed pack in her lap beside her new bandaged friend in the main ¡®lobby¡¯ of the guild house, squished into a corner behind the bar. She had lines of sight to each exit here. Just in case. It was truly just a bar. Granted, the establishment was larger than most places of business in the southern district but it ran as usual, serving anyone who may wander in; though it¡¯s basement was for members only.


    No coincidence that they stay where the barkeep stashes the spirits, huh?


    Amberosin eyed the sleeping bandaged man next to her with a quaint smile and let out a quiet, lonely sigh. He - Silent One, whose true name she was still annoying unaware of - was thinner than she had originally thought and the bandages he wore now were¡­ different. Mezir wouldn¡¯t have dared to remove the man¡¯s wrappings himself as he¡¯d told her, and an ever spaced out Korrin, that they were part of some huge spiritual tradition. ¡°It would be sacrilegious to remove them as his vow is unanswered. So, I had to do my work through them, of course.¡±


    Of course. Fucking miracle worker.


    With that, Mezir had left them and followed after Patri downstairs.


    Amberosin smiled across the bar at a solitary Korrin who sat with a hand on her eyepatch, stroking it, thinking about something that seemed altogether unpleasant. When Korrin didn¡¯t return a smile Amberosin thought it was mainly because the woman was not really there. Her body, sure, but her mind seemed distant. Korrin¡¯s exposed eye looked vacant to Amberosin¡­ but she didn¡¯t know the woman, so she stayed seated, wondering about the bandages.


    How had he looked so big and imposing before? I swore his biceps and forearms were at least double the size they are now. No way it was just casting¡­


    Amberosin¡¯s gaze locked onto Silent One¡¯s bag that she had wrapped about his torso when they fled the garbage barge. She¡¯d bet all the food in her pack if she looked in his brown pelt bag that she¡¯d find multiple sets of colored bandages. But there was no one around to bet. No one was around to stop her snooping, either. This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Just a peek for curiosity''s sake, I won¡¯t take anything¡­ unless it¡¯s really expensive.


    She chuckled at herself as her hand shot forward to the lock on his pack. She¡¯d learned that taking your time thieving, or in this case¡­ peeking... with sleeping people was largely a waste. Sleeping nobles and merchants wouldn¡¯t wake for the world¡¯s collective end. It was easy as ever. Except, just then, her hand stopped. Amberosin¡¯s fingers were on the simple clasp lock but refused to move any more.


    I¡­ I can''t? No, That''s not right¡­ I won¡¯t. He saved me, more than once. I owe him his privacy, at least. Besides, I know I am right about the extra bandages, so¡­. What does it even matter? It''s not like I actually made a b-


    As Amberosin¡¯s hand slid away from ¡®Silent One¡¯s¡¯ pack she brushed against the bandages he wore, just enough to feel the warmth of his body beneath her freezing fingertips. Tranquility of sorts spread through her body, loosening her tender muscles. The warmth at her fingers traveled up with the expanding peace that overfell her and as it reached the base of her neck, Amberosin¡¯s eyes shot open wide. Massive beams of white light shone from beneath her tinted goggles. Someone was yelling her name, she thought but she wasn¡¯t there. Her body was, sure.


    Her mind, however, was far¡­ far away.


    ***


    Ta¡¯K bounded from branch to winding branch of the vast and varied wilder-trees strewn about him. He was in the exact middle of the Ta¡¯ Lands encased in a thick patch of Wilder¡¯s that had been planted and maintained by the Ta¡¯ themselves for thousands of years. Hun¡¯ Ata Bes¡¯ En. Forest of Beasts and Peace. The sacred grounds of their last hunts before the start of the Ta¡¯ Hun. A celebration of peace and prosperity celebrated by all denizens of Noctra and a time when Ta¡¯ would strike against neither beast nor man. No matter the consequence.


    He was chasing after his elder brother, Ta¡¯Jir. They were to hunt together as a team, facing off against twelve other groups of two; all young boys ranging from nine to nineteen years of age. Ta¡¯K saw his brother sprinting on the wilder floors below, clearing roots larger than most Ta¡¯ homes with an ease and finesse that he envied greatly. Ta¡¯K wasn¡¯t without his own skills and abilities, however, and he wasn¡¯t going to let his brother win their personal contest without a fight.


    The purpose of the last hunt before the Ta¡¯ Hun, Fino Besa-TTa¡¯, or Final Beasting VTa¡¯, was to judge the abilities of the young Ta¡¯ in matters of teamwork, hunting prowess, tracking, and casting. Ta¡¯K and Ta¡¯Jir were both younger than most participants, being eight and twelve respectively, but they were also the only two children of Ta'' Uma. The chief of all Ta¡¯ nations. That particular blessing had come with some extra challenges all its own.


    Both boys were used to having more than the average expected of them, they were to make good of their namesake and honor their dead. Always. The brothers were on their way to great, legendary adventures together, everyone knew. All too aware of the weight added to their shoulders, the boys tended to find ways to challenge one another at all times, to keep each other sharp. Supposedly.


    The challenge this time was to see which of them could land the largest prey from the center of the Ata¡¯ wilders. One usually only saw returning teams of older boys venture out that far and most couldn¡¯t make it back to the game judges in time; not with anything remarkable.


    Ta¡¯K had an additional blessing over his brother and the other Ta¡¯, however. His Ta¡¯ Sevin, Venerable Sight, was a birthright passed along only to those born bearing something generally referred to as ¡®the mark¡¯. What that really meant to him was that Ta¡¯K had been born missing one of his eyes and the elder Ta¡¯ had gifted him with a sacred mantle. A mantle that allowed him to see and manipulate essence like it was second nature. Most Ta¡¯ struggled for lifetimes to achieve what he was handed. Not one to deny his privileges, Ta¡¯K had used the sight near incessantly and it had shown him a great many tricks.


    ¡°Brother! Up here!¡± Ta¡¯K shouted as he lined himself with his brother from above.


    Ta¡¯Jir flashed a toothy grin upwards at his younger sibling, ¡°Careful, little one, I don¡¯t want to be carrying you back to the judges!¡±


    ¡°Ha! Just watch me, big one!¡±


    Ta¡¯K smirked and jumped a clear five feet into the air, aimed for a spot in the thick wilders empty of any branches. His framework eye, the mantle he¡¯d been gifted, flashed a stark white light and gave him a snapshot of the essence around. As easy as breathing, he willed the essence about before him into slabs barely larger than his feet.


    ¡°One, two, three, four, five¡­¡± Ta¡¯K laughed as he walked higher into the air on steps that would be invisible to his brother below. He could hear Ta¡¯Jir from above the trees but couldn¡¯t quite make out his brother''s words, far too enamored by the sight of open-air before him. After a moment he aimed his slabs on a downward slope and appeared back below the thicket of trees a good ten paces ahead of his brother. Through a clearing on his level, he spotted something that would win him their little wager and get both he and his brother the respect of the elder hunters.


    ¡°Brother! There, not even seventy paces, if your eyes can see that far, there lies our hunt.¡± Ta¡¯K spun and floated on essence down to ground level, making sure to stay a few feet ahead of Ta¡¯Jir as he did so. He slowed after a few moments and ran beside his brother, waiting for him to see.


    ¡°Oh. Oh!¡± He screamed when he finally saw it. ¡°That is a completely insane idea. I do believe I¡¯ll take it and the credit when I get back first! Neat trick, by the way, the stairs? But check this out.¡± Ta¡¯Jir stopped dead mid-sprint. His feet pushed into the dirt like it was wet putty as Noctra wrapped the forest floor about his ankles and calves. Then he shot forth like an arrow leaving a crater as wide as a dreadbeast welp behind him cleaving roots and all that simple regrew a moment later. Whooping traveled back to Ta¡¯K on the wind in his brother¡¯s wake.


    As impressed as he was Ta¡¯K refused to be shone up in such a brilliant manner. He commanded the essence about him to form a pathway using his hands to guide each slab into position and used his own essence to propel them each a few feet at a time before they dissipated and he jumped to the next. He was riding the waves of Noctra¡¯s winds after his brother like a hound¡¯s tail behind the hound but he couldn¡¯t quite catch up. Their prey was only getting closer but he still had a chance, Ta¡¯k could do i-


    Ta¡¯Jir let out a fierce yell below as he drove his fists downwards and flew forward a good twenty paces in an instant. Ta¡¯K was staring with a slack mouth in utter awe of his brother¡¯s casting from high above the ground, higher than he¡¯d been before when he saw his mistake. When he had poked his head above the canopy of trees, now a good twenty paces behind him at least, he thought he had seen the shape of a baiting dreadbeast with it¡¯s first layer of dermis peeled back and laid flat in hopes of securing an easy meal. But he had been wrong. Ta¡¯K had not seen a dreadbeast baiting. No. He had seen one of the dreadbeast feeding her young beneath her giant sections of colorful dermis. An Alpha Mater that had seemed much, much smaller from a distance. So far as they had been taught there had only ever been five Alpha Mater¡¯s that had birthed all dreadbeasts across Noctra¡¯s regions and four still lived.


    No! No Ta¡¯Jir! Stop! He couldn¡¯t yell from where he was for fear of swallowing too much air and not one too few insects. Ta¡¯K gritted his teeth and pushed both fists behind him as he willed all the essence he could cast to shoot out as pure air and propel him forward. While the speed of such a feat was immense he was only able to hold it for a few seconds before falling to the ground in a painfully long roll. Ignoring the stabs of stones and sticks littered about the plains he rolled to his feet and moved to mimic his brother''s action from before. He¡¯d seen how the essence moved, he could do it!


    By the time Noctra¡¯s soils had wrapped around his own feet in preparation to launch him as it had his brother before him¡­ it was too late.


    The Alpha Mater¡¯s flaccid outer dermis had risen to envelop it¡¯s own body, revealing to Ta¡¯Jir what he had been speeding towards. Ta¡¯K could see how his brother strained as he shot forth swathes of essence with such force that it could be followed without using his sight. He was trying desperately to reverse course. At least six dreadbeast had been exposed when the massive Alpha Mater sealed her false skin back about her body and they all pounced at once. Ta¡¯K stood there frozen for what seemed like hours as he watched his brother dodge giant, starving dreadbeast all around. One gashed his leg but he shot high using the earth below him once more. Another snapped a quartered mouth closed on his other leg and slammed Ta¡¯Jir down.


    No! No! No! ¡°No!¡± Ta¡¯K screamed so fiercely he felt blood building from tears in his mouth and a white beam shot forth from his framework eye, knocking him back as it carved a path toward Ta¡¯Jir and the ravenous pack of beasts. The white beam dimmed and thinned slowly before a blue light zipped up it and slammed into Ta¡¯K¡¯s eye. Brother? His framework eye clicked once as if in response. The white light was no more, though standing above the burnt boy was a man adorned all in an all-white cape adorned in gold trim, shaking his head. The sky behind him was burning bright with red and orange¡­. And black.


    That vicious bastard!


    ***


    ¡°Mezir! Mezir! Get the fuck up here, now!¡± Korrin was banging on the metal door to the basement of the bar so hard she¡¯d busted her knuckles. A man who had tried to stop her from interrupting ¡°guild business¡± lay beside the door with a nice stain of red across his lips.


    Korrin had been minding her own business, fiddling with her eyepatch while she thought, when all of a sudden the wilder girl, Amberosin, started shaking violently. A light exploded out of the young woman¡¯s eyes and projected fuzzy images onto the ceiling.


    A boy? Two boys? Some beast? What the fuck is¡­


    Oh great.


    Silent One was shaking now himself, hard enough that he had fallen to the ground and knocked over a chair.


    ¡°Oh fuck.. Mezir! Get out here you fickle prick!¡± Korrin yelled louder now and backed up to kick the door with all her might but just then she heard a latch come undone.


    Mezir burst through the door and took the scene before him. Blanched.


    ¡°Well¡­. Shit.¡± Well, shit indeed.

 Twenty-Six

    Mezir threw Amberoin¡¯s pack beneath her head and held Korrin¡¯s hands on the thrashing woman¡¯s temples. The young woman¡¯s eyes still projected some odd fuzzy images onto the ceiling above but she was bucking less and less wildly. Ta¡¯K¡¯s foot jerked and sent a chair towards Mezir which he pushed aside with his metal arm. It landed by a slack-jawed patron of the bar who promptly sprinted out of the front doors. He hoped the guild still had scouts about to ensure he wasn¡¯t leaving only to bring others back with him, though given the conditions of the lower level¡­ it was unlikely.


    One problem at a time. Prioritize, Mezir!


    ¡°Yell for me if she starts to choke on foam or vomit¡­ or anything else changes.¡± Mezir motioned upwards and gave a thumbs up. He didn¡¯t wait for Korrin to respond, there wasn¡¯t enough time. They needed to keep Amberosin and Ta¡¯K stable long enough for the seizing to pass entirely. Then he could worry about people¡¯s feelings. Then and only then, Mezir could worry about the hauntingly familiar images on the ceiling.


    Mezir jumped forth and grabbed one of Ta¡¯K¡¯s wrapped legs to stop its indiscriminate kicking, his metal right arm clamped onto the other leg and lifted, hard. The wrapped young man flew upwards into Mezir¡¯s iron grip, completely upside down.


    He¡¯s already this much thinner?!


    Ta¡¯K¡¯s legs felt like they would break if he squeezed too hard. With just a little more care than before, Mezir turned the sickly feeling young man right side up and held him in more of a stern embrace, rather than with an iron grip. He could feel an immense heat cascading off of the seizing man that attached to his skin and seemed to travel upwards.


    Essence? Shit.. Shit! His es-sickness isn¡¯t regressing?!


    Mezir¡¯s neck began glowing a bright, blazing red beneath his skin as he willed forth his own supply of essence. A golden light followed the red, forcing it downwards against the invisible invaders that climbed his body. He knew what would happen if it got into his mind; any caster could be immobilized, or worse if touched by infected essence at the brain stem. It was an ugly occurrence. Even with Mezir¡¯s meritable casting, however, he couldn¡¯t avoid the connection that he and Ta¡¯K made at the colliding of their essence.


    Mezir saw the young brothers on their last hunt as if he was an unseen spectator just above. Mezir found he was free to fly and roam about as he pleased, so long as the young Ta¡¯K himself was still relatively close. He knew Amberosin would not be having as easy a time swimming through Ta¡¯K¡¯s memory, at the mercy of events from Ta¡¯K¡¯s perspective. As if they were one.


    His ghost-like form shuddered inside the memory scape at the thought of Amberosin shaking. Those unnatural beams bursting from her eyes... He went cold as he saw the events she would be displaying on the ceiling of the guild house unfold right in front of him. Clear as crystal in the savage morning light. Mezir could do nothing as he watched the two boys speed towards an inevitable doom but that did not mean he didn¡¯t wish to. He had been here before, in another¡¯s memory, and knew there was nothing to be done.


    So he watched. Every moment. He absorbed everything and stored it in small pockets of essence within him. Mezir saw the moment Lord White landed, just before Ta¡¯K incinerated the pack of dreadbeast and their Alpha Mater. He wound about the man and observed him intently as White simply stared at the young Ta¡¯Jir¡¯s remains, unmoving. Unspeaking. Dead silent. Even when he looked over to a crawling Ta¡¯K whose framework eye shone brilliantly blue, he didn¡¯t say a word. Just shook his head and turned away. A soldier approached him then and Mezir heard Lord White nearly whispering to the man.


    ¡°To the mines¡­. And take his hands once you¡¯re there or else we shall surely regret our actions today.¡±


    The soldier gave one nod, held up some odd looking contraption with tubes running to the man''s back, alight with the shine of pure translucent essence. The sight sent an enraged sickness through Mezir as he recognized it to be the blasters White had manufactured, using Ta¡¯ methods no less, in secret. Had he known what they would be used for¡­


    It didn¡¯t matter. The soldier walked over to Ta¡¯K still inching toward his brother¡¯s body at the feet of Lord White and slammed his heel on the young boy''s head. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Mezir came back to his own body still held tight around Ta¡¯K but the boy was thrashing less now. The Bleeding as scholars had referred to it only accompanied the most severe cases of es-sickness. He must have been casting much, much more than Mezir had assumed.


    Silly boy.


    Mezir held Ta¡¯K close like a sleeping child and listened to his heartbeat. The man¡¯s bandages were soaked in sweat, indeed even through the wrappings Mezir felt the heat of a fever, but his heart was beating strong. He gave the boy a few days rest before his body began ¡°repairing¡± itself. Ta¡¯K wouldn¡¯t get all of his muscle or mass back without some work, but he would live.


    He felt himself shedding tears over the poor tortured young man he held in his arms and he did nothing to stop it. The torrents came and cut through Mezir like the finest Trallenblade money could buy, sent him to his knees with a soundly sleeping Ta¡¯K cradled to him as the big man rocked on his knees. A sob came from behind him, nearly as loud as his own.


    Amberosin was coming to. Korrin, bless the befuddled young woman, was holding her close, mimicking Mezir with a look of pure panic on her face.


    Not used to being on the other side, eh Kori?


    Mezir let out a robust, hearty laugh and sent tears flying everywhere. Amazed at how much one person could change in such a short time. Himself not excluded. It was a wonder anyone recognized each other after wars or strife¡­ no one was the same. Not after something as widespread and jarring as the Fracturing.


    Does father even realize how he has traumatized and betrayed all the generations of Noctra to come! His right arm was clattering, rattling in a rage that longed to escape. But no.


    Compassion matters more. More than vengeance. More than justice. Just... more.


    Mezir¡¯s shaking arm stopped all at once and he could feel his own rapid breathing slow in time with Ta¡¯K¡¯s. Peeking over at Amberosin and Korrin the big man couldn¡¯t help himself. In one quick motion Mezir turned, slipped Ta¡¯K to his right side, and scooped up the two young women on his left. Weeping atop their beautiful little heads.


    ¡°Uh. Mezir? We¡¯ve got¡­ another problem.¡±


    ***


    Patri eyed the small crowd hunched over together, crying in the middle of the bar floor. Even Korrin seemed to have saltine pools building in her eyes. Sweat beaded down Patri¡¯s forehead and he knew that Mezir knew it was not all from running up the long staircase from below. He¡¯d not been as quiet with Senfe as he had hoped to be. Mezir was blubbering but still took the time to give Pat a quick smirk and wink- well, what Patri thought was a wink. The man was truly bawling. Never thought I¡¯d live to see the day...


    ¡°What is it Patri, we are celebrating here! They¡¯re both going to live!¡±


    Patri blanched. What the hell has been going on up here?! ¡°Uh, right, just as excited about that as you are, believe me, but the thing is-¡±


    A gust of wind and the sound of sliding rubble announced ¡°the thing¡¯s¡± arrival outside of the Tainted¡¯s bar. I must be old- those steps used to only take me a few minutes to come up.


    ¡°Ah¡­ well, the thing is here. I suggest you get ready old friend, not too many here in fighting shape besides you, I¡¯d say.¡± He gave Mezir a sad, serious look.


    Mezir was already up, tears dried. Short, jagged blade with a crescent curve drawn When had he stood? I can¡¯t believe he still has that old sword.


    He was staring at the door. They were all staring at the door.


    Amberosin tried to stand herself but a gentle hand from a watery-eyed Korring stopped her. They both knelt next to a soundly sleeping, very thin-looking, ¡®Silent One¡¯.


    The air in here got real tense all of a sudden. What a fucking trip these past few days have been¡­ and for fucksake I¡¯ve got to figure out that kid''s name.


    Patri went and stood beside Mezir, his injured shoulder back, blade in his good hand ready to strike. He wasn¡¯t the best fighter around but Patri wasn¡¯t about to take an enemy coming into his bar laying down.


    Especially not in front of-


    Mezir De Blancana. Teardrop mask. Golden trim adorning a pristine white cape. The imposter Mezir who had helped solidify White¡¯s suffocating reign stepped through the doors.


    He was holding the mask in his hands, blazing scarlet red hair falling in front of light russet skin tinged with a subtle red. His eyes as green as the clearest emerald.


    ¡°Hello, Mezir. I¡¯ve missed you quite terribly.¡±


    Who is that¡­.

 Twenty-Seven

    She was Helena once more. Spry, wide-eyed, and excited beyond all measure, the sixteen-year-old prodigy had just arrived at Stroma Labs. Helena had made the journey in one of White¡¯s famed shuttles, soaring at least a few nautical above a seemingly endless ocean, far away from the mainland of Noctra. She didn¡¯t know how fast they had been traveling, nor for how long, but by the time they cleared the leagues of seas below them and first spotted Stroma Labs, the young girl was still in a state of shock.


    Helena had been gawking for nearly the whole ride.


    Initially, she could only watch out the windows, amazed at their height. At how everything looked so different from on high. The Wilders, while still immense and terrifying, had a definite end. A limit that she had never even fathomed back home. Peppered throughout the gargantuan forests consuming most of Noctra¡¯s viable land Helena spotted hundreds- possibly thousands- of ruins. Ruins, unbelievably tall, incomparably grand, and equally as robust. Buildings- or towers, she supposed- with square divots and pockets of empty space nearly reached the bottom of their shuttle. None of the guards or servants aboard the shuttle had seemed concerned, which left Helena alone in her shriek of terror as they passed the first of the ruins.


    You are not so naive, Helena Seires. You¡¯ve read every one of Argonia Slib¡¯s current volumes of The Lands and Wonders of Noctra. You know of his theories on past civilizations that had tamed the Wilders. Though¡­ speculation is much different from visual confirmation¡­. No, no excuses. You will be the youngest theorist and scientist in all of Stroma Labs. Pull yourself together!


    After stifling down her embarrassment Helena¡¯s focus had shifted to the interior of White¡¯s miraculous craft, hoping to avoid any more humbling displays. Besides, the seas were¡­ well the seas- even the famed historian Argonia had yet to discover anything of value in what little he could explore. Though, Helena gawked no less at the interior of the shuttle than she had at the Wilder¡¯s or ruins therein.


    The cabin where Helena sat had walls made from some form of pearlescent framework with colorful lines flashing beneath it here and there, most often blue and green. It was obviously imbued with essence and had running tech beneath the dazzling slabs of what was ultimately just mastercrafted metal adorned with climbing plants that sprouted buds of pure white with yellow sticks of pollen sticking up in the middle. Lovely blancwilla flowers. Invasive as ever in the wild, funny enough. Helena was not naive enough to believe she could guess as to what kind of tech it was beneath the lovely walls, she was sure, however, that she would soon find out. Stroma Labs designed and manufactured nearly all of White¡¯s machines- based on the Lord¡¯s own request and schematics, of course. Helena knew that included the shuttles of which there had been more and more of over the past year or two.


    Argonia has a few words about those too¡­


    Just like her, the man harbored doubts about Lord White¡¯s motive and intent, and neither of them saw him as a god, as so many Blancanan¡¯s seemed to. Helena, however, believed in the man¡¯s intellect and resources. At the time she just wanted more knowledge, more understanding. The larger than life Lord White was her ticket to such things.


    He was also waiting for her at the labs when she landed. That had not been part of the itinerary. Despite her doubt in the man¡¯s integrity, his power and position were facts, so Helena checked herself in an oversized, spectacularly flourished mirror before exiting the shuttle. She had the loveliest shade of deeply caramel skin with a light rosy cadence on her rounded cheeks. Large, oval eyes hazel with blue and brown indicated her distant Ta¡¯ relations. Helena was gorgeous and had always been proud of the fact. She would be no different in front of Lord White. And she wasn¡¯t


    White loved her forwardness, her confidence, and intellect. He promised her great things and gave the young woman a personal tour of the labs on the first ten levels; however, by the end of their time together he had grown solemn. Quiet and a bit more distant than before. He¡¯d finally sighed and spoke his mind.


    ¡°I¡­ I wanted to show you the fantastic future you will have here. The opportunities to learn, to explore- to change the world! I wanted you to know that you have great things ahead and¡­. And I am stalling. Again.¡± White sucked in a deep breath beneath his mask, shaking his head side to side. ¡°Helena. The night you left your family behind¡­. There was an accident, we believe. A great fire tore through the structure and left nothing but soot and ash. I am so sorry.¡±


    Helena had no time to react, to process his words before White had smothered her in a full embrace. His chest was heaving in what appeared to be genuine sobs of anguish. She was streaming tears herself before she had even realized, pressed into Lord White¡¯s cape. Helena swore she could smell smoke and burning wood.


    Just the shock. She¡¯d reasoned. Like a fool.


    That night she cried until it felt her throat would bleed and watched the morning rise through from her quarters. Helena did this every morning for months, unmoving until someone finally came and knocked at her door. When she did finally rise she buried herself in research, studying stalagmites and stromatolites to try and discern the lives of those from Noctra¡¯s distant past. It was all that kept her distracted from her own.


    That was¡­ until Ragoth arrived.


    The gangly, fiery-haired young boy with soft russet skin arrived by Lord White¡¯s side looking like a lost puppy. Wide-eyed and terrified as she had been upon her arrival. By the time they met, Helena had already been at Stroma Labs for three years, working alone for much of her time. What little interaction she had was with other scientists and researchers at least double her age, most of whom didn¡¯t enjoy having such a young, inexperienced, colleague in their midst. Ragoth was neither a scientist nor double her age, in fact, he was a year younger and a whole head shorter than Helena. And he respected her opinion greatly, nearly hung on her every word and accepted that she was a more than an adequate researcher.


    It did not take long for Helena to fall for the meek boy, though it was evident his heart had already been smitten with another. Mezir De Blancana. Mezir who was the only publicly accepted child and heir of Lord White. Mezir who had already made his mark as a Legend across all of Noctra.


    Mezir who pounded at Heria¡¯s door, breaking her from the trance-like state she had been stuck in for hours, reliving a life she had all but forgotten. Heria didn¡¯t answer. Not even after Mezir spoke to her through the door. He was muted, more by her own state than anything, but she was able to make out a single word before the world outside of her room grew silent again.


    ¡°Tainted.¡±


    Tainted. Except¡­ he said it ¡®Tayented¡± Tayen.... That accent¡­ is not Mezir¡¯s!Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Heria was up drying her face before she knew it. She tore her door open so hard it came off of its hinges. Heria didn¡¯t have the time to deal with it so she tossed it aside and sprinted down the hall. She was on the fourth floor of the estate and servants were flooding up and down the stairs, her target nowhere in sight. He was probably already out of the building.


    Fast fucker!


    She opted to skip the steps and simply jumped over the railing. Jumping saved her a lot of time but also meant she had an excess of eyes set on her. Heria landed, rolled, and bolted for the massive doors of the estate. As she was storming by the study, however, she heard the voice of Lord White.


    ¡°Oh, Heria,!I do believe we need to talk, dear.¡±


    She stopped and clenched her heavy fists but did not turn to face the study. Not again, White. You will not take him from me again!


    Heria hoped with all her might that she wasn¡¯t losing her mind, that her revelation wasn¡¯t born of her sleepless turmoil as she burst out onto the steps before White¡¯s estate and disappeared.


    Lord White stood in the middle of the now dented estate doors, shaking his head.


    ¡°I was just going to tell her to be careful- Plenty of dangerous characters out there tonight.¡± He flipped his hand upwards nonchalantly and turned to go back inside. All the Indentured around White chuckled along with their Lord, bowed low, and missed the split second when he paused just before stepping through the threshold. White muttered something and a shadow bolted out, but a blur.


    A blur heading in the direction Heria had gone. The estate doors slammed shut followed by a single *thud* of the internal locks slamming together.


    ***


    That smug bastard. That''s what had tipped him off. That was how he knew Mezir was back. And if Mezir was back, he¡¯d visit that awful guild house down south, he knew. So, after banging on Heria¡¯s door pleading her to come with him for more than a few minutes he had jumped out of a window at the estate near her quarters to keep his going out a secret. He yelled ¡°Tainted¡± in his native accent in hopes she would understand.


    Ragoth fell to his knees in the grubby guild house of the Tainted Thieves guild and dropped Mezir¡¯s mask.


    The true Mezir was before him, alive and well. A sight he¡¯d hoped he would see again. A hope he had been holding on to without any belief in its possibility. He sobbed, uncaring of the crowd of familiar and strange faces alike. The man beside Mezir faltered, his raised blade falling to his side. Mezir didn¡¯t hesitate, he never did.


    Before Ragoth had the chance to look up with his puffy, sullen eyes to be sure he wasn¡¯t mistaken, Mezir¡¯s arms were around him. Squeezing. Embracing Ragoth as he stood, holding the sad, fiery-haired imposter a good two heads above the ground.


    And there he held Ragoth as he cried, soothing him with a soft ¡°sh..¡± for just a moment.


    This is the man I fell for so long ago¡­ I was such a poor imitation. He sobbed even harder when Mezir placed him on the ground, ignoring the confused faces of those around them.


    ¡°Mez¡­. I am so sorry. I tried. I did. I did everything-¡±


    ¡°You did everything that was asked of you, as instructed.¡±


    I lied. I sniveled. I fled. I left the fighting and the violence to others. I did nothing that I was instructed. I only barely survived.


    Ragoth made an awful sound as he sucked in tears and burning breath all at once. No one moved or said a word, save for a fit, sweaty woman with curly hair who came from the stairs to his left and stood next to the befuddled friend that had been by Mezir. He found himself wishing he had the mask on because he knew her face from¡­ somewhere.


    Mezir gave her a quick glance himself as she whispered into the man¡¯s ear. He looked sick, instantly laden with a fresh sweat and emitting the musk of an anxious man.


    Ragoth felt Mezir''s large, powerful hand on his shoulder and followed it up the man¡¯s smooth arm. It was more auburn than it had been before, not so much a dark brown as a red-russet.


    Age has changed it, only barely. I like the beard¡­ He could think of nothing to say.


    ¡°Ragoth,¡± no malice, no hate, no scheme¡­ just his name, ¡°I know we have much to discuss¡­ unfortunately, we also have much to do. And, if Patri¡¯s face tells us anything,¡± Mezir motioned towards the sickly looking fellow who had stood to fight beside him, ¡°I think we ought to be leaving soon.¡±


    The man, Patri, who looked as if he was just about to say something before Mezir turned to him with his finger raised and mouth open, lowered his arm, cleared his throat, and nodded. ¡°White¡¯s sent someone. Likely after¡­ uhm-¡±


    ¡°Ragoth.¡± Of course White did. Of course, he knew I left. I jumped out of the window for the love of¡­. Oh no. Heria. He stood, leaving Mezir¡¯s hand on his shoulder. He¡¯d seen Amberosin on the floor there with Korrin. Amberosin had fresh tears trickling down her face from beneath her goggles. Ragoth was unable to face her. Soon. But now, we¡¯ve got to keep her alive.


    He kept his eyes to the floor as he spoke.


    ¡°I am sure it was someone sent after me as well. I¡¯m sorry¡­ however, if it is who I think, there shouldn¡¯t really be much of a problem. I advise that-¡±


    They were all moving already, except the sleeping, colorfully bandaged, thin-looking young man laid on the floor who Ragoth would surely be asking about later- who Amberosin stood and scooped up in her arms, face devoid of any new tears that were just shedding so freely. Korrin held two packs about her shoulders. Patri and his lady friend were already out of the door, Patri stopping to wave the others through as he looked around frantically. Mezir disappeared and quickly reappeared holding a sleeping Lili-Bon. It was all too fast for Ragoth to question at that point and before he could even begin Mezir had grabbed his arm and started running.


    He¡¯s using the metal one¡­ the replacement for the one I took. Ragoth¡¯s tears were flying on the winds behind them as they raced towards the wall of the southern border.


    They ran through the courtyard that was still stained red from the massacre he was pretty sure Amberosin¡¯s baggage had committed. It could have been Mezir, he supposed. Quite the crowd I¡¯ve fallen in with. Ragoth smiled like a mad man despite himself as they raced into the Wilders outside the border without looking back, Mezir leading them onward. Just like before. Just like it should be. Just as he imagined, except...


    Except this time Ragoth could hear a fierce crashing behind him, getting closer even as they ran faster, into thicker swathes of forest. It sounded like a raving beast. The beast¡¯s roaring almost sounded like words. It reminded him of something¡­ What was I saying before we started to run? Who was coming? He was so distracted by the nagging feeling that his speed slowed enough Mezir had him dangling by his chest plate which made his limbs flop like a dead man in the wind.


    Ragoth could see Mezir smiling as he led the others through the Wilders with him flailing like a ragdoll, enjoying himself to some degree more than he should. Ragoth¡¯s mind went all to putty at the sight of Mezir¡¯s smile, just as he had when they were younger. He lost his train of thought and smiled back at the most beautiful person he¡¯d ever known.


    That smug bastard.

 Twenty Eight

    How did I miss it?


    Heria¡¯s massive arms mowed down some of the thinner trees before her as she stormed through exuberant roots and shrubbery, ignorant to the cuts from their thorns and bristles.


    How many signs did he give?


    She felt like an idiot. A stark-raving moron. An animal that should¡¯ve known better.


    A monster. Heria sobbed as she ran through the Wilders, following the rustling of feet not far ahead of her- loud but still unseen. That is why he never told me, isn¡¯t it? He could never love a monster¡­ She nearly stopped. Almost slammed her feet into the ground burgeoning with life beneath her. Heria could still turn around.


    But she refused. She could not relent. Not until she knew for a fact whether the man beneath Mezir¡¯s mask was actually Ragoth. Images of the young, meek, lovely young Nomad boy with the fiercest hair she¡¯d ever laid eyes upon flashed before her eyes as Heria tore through low hanging vines. A swarm of flying creatures large and small screamed, flew up as she ransacked their homes, unaware of how many she disturbed with each step. Unaware of anything other than his face as she ran forward. Heria¡¯s body guided her through as her mind fought to become Helena once more. It hurt so much. Like she was being torn in two by warring factions.


    There was a small clearing ahead. Figures in the distance, shadows running.


    Heria felt as if her skull was going to split open. Helena, however, thought only of Ragoth.


    We- I¡­ I must find him. He is right there!


    Heria wondered if this all might be set up by Lord White to test her loyalties. To toy with her mind and see just how broken she still was. How easily swayed, how readily manipulated. She thought for a second maybe, just maybe, it had been Mezir all along and he was in on the charade¡­ but the way he¡¯d said the word ¡®Tainted¡¯ felt¡­ natural. Deliberate but not forced. A bit more meek than Mezir¡¯s. So much more, like-


    Ragoth!


    Helena¡¯s silken voice was as smooth as could be in her mind, a direct contrast to Heria¡¯s harsh growl; though they were in unison when they caught sight of the red-haired man. His immaculate white armor shone greatly in the light that escaped the reach of massive wildertrees. Ragoth would have been a regal sight had he not been flailing like a corpse lost in a typhoon. A large man with skin darker than Ragoth¡¯s had him by his chest plate- maybe his neck- she couldn¡¯t tell. It didn¡¯t matter.


    Helena and Heria raged together in a symphony of self she¡¯d not felt for some time. Each woman of her life held the same intense feelings for Ragoth, despite it all. Despite the fact that he may have been lying to each of them for years on end.


    There has to be a reason!


    Heria¡¯s legs released the essence she¡¯d gathered over the course of her pursuit and propelled herself into the air like an oversized cannonball draped in dreads. The pressure in her head only grew worse but Heria didn¡¯t care. She was going to save him, no matter the cost.


    And then what?


    Helena had always thought too much.


    ***


    ¡°Ragoth!¡±


    She barely made out the word, more a roar mixed with an ugly sob, but it was getting closer. Fast. Amberosin turned just in time to see a glowing dread covered ball of a woman slam into the ground behind Mezir and Ragoth; Ragoth who she still couldn¡¯t stand to look at. It would be too much, especially after being inside Sile- Ta¡¯K''s- mind.


    Patri, Ragoth, and Mezir who was still holding the sleeping noblewoman were on one side of Heria and the crater she embedded into the wilder¡¯s. On the other side, behind Heria, Korrin, Amberosin with Silent One in her arms and Senf-


    Senfe? Amberosin did a quick take of the scene once more. The woman was gone. She can take care of herself. She¡¯s probably just... getting an angle! Yes. Focus. Calm. Now is not the time to lose it, Amberosin. The time for that is long past, I¡¯d wager.


    Dust and natural debris were still cascading down, disheveled by Heria¡¯s entrance. Amberosin took in their surroundings while she had the chance. None of her interactions with the Alta woman had been pleasant and the probability of needing to make a quick escape was increasing by the moment.


    Shit.


    It all just looked like more forest to her. A small ledge protruded from a good five stories high behind them, but aside from that, it was just trees and darting shadows. Flowers and the insects that fed upon them. Things she couldn¡¯t begin to fathom, so she didn¡¯t try. She looked for what she could understand. Dangers she could recognize. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    She spotted movement to her left, what she thought would be east, just a flash but at least the size of a person. Another human sized shadow dashed through the seemingly boundless forest to her right. She hoped desperately that one of those shadows was Senfe.


    ¡°Heria?¡± Ragoth was wobbling on his feet, adjusting his chest plate. Amberosin kept her eyes low, avoiding his face, and watched. The moving shadows still at the forefront of her mind.


    The woman¡¯s labored breathing emanated from the thicket of dust. It seemed to be enough of an answer for Ragoth. Amberosin could see Heria¡¯s outline from behind and any doubts she may have held were vanquished. She could recognize those arms on the blackest of nights.


    ¡°I am glad you heard it. My accent.¡± Ragoth took a step towards Heria.


    A scoffing sob escaped the thinning cloud of debris. Heria¡¯s head snapped to the side, still only a shade to Amberosin. A defined shade.


    ¡°I could never forget it.¡±


    Light glinted off of Heria¡¯s fangs for a moment and Amberosin¡¯s animal brain told her to run but she mutinied and hardened herself. Korrin stood in front of her. A complete stranger, but a stranger that had blades drawn, ready to defend an encumbered Amberosin and Ta¡¯K who slept in her arms.


    He¡¯s getting heavier the longer we stand here. No, that¡¯s not right. I¡¯m exhausted. Imagining it.


    ¡°I know there is a lot of explaining that needs to be done here.¡± There seems to be an awful lot of explaining that needs to be done with these people. Amberosin eyed a stoic Mezir who¡¯d handed the sleeping woman to Patri. ¡°But for now¡­ we need to leave Blancana, Her- Helena.¡± Helena? Amberosin wished she had a notebook to take down all of her damn questions.


    The dust was nearly settled. Heria in full view. Her head had still been situated away from Ragoth which meant once the debris cleared she was staring at Amberosin, Korrin, and Ta¡¯K. Heria¡¯s eyes seemed to ask a question as they passed over Korrin and went wide when she saw Ta¡¯K.


    There was another flicker of shadow to the left, closer than before. The right was clear. Which wasn¡¯t a good thing, necessarily. Amberosin thought that her dread about the shadows and pure exhaustion were causing Ta¡¯K to feel heavier, to the point that she desperately wanted to drop him on his tragic ass. But she¡¯d been wrong. Amberosin tore her eyes away from the tense scene before her for just a moment and looked at the young man in her arms. It was like someone had inflated his muscles with leaden air. His limbs seemed to be even larger than they had before he¡¯d fallen sick, which was only days ago.


    He was just seizing not even a few hours ago?! I can¡¯t believe I was wrong about the bandages in his pack. Insanity. All of this is-


    Ta¡¯K slid out of her arms. Amberosin was relieved of his weight all at once and longed to let her arms hang like limp noodles at her sides. Instead, she too drew her blades and stood beside Korrin. The action snapped Heria out of her frozen stupor and she turned quickly towards Amberosin. Ragoth was nearly at her side.


    ¡°Helena?¡± He had his hand raised to Amberosin and Korrin. It begged peace.


    Korrin dropped her blades almost instantly to her sides and backed up a pace to show she understood. Amberosin waited for a nod from Mezir before she relented and sheathed her blades. Heria- Helena, whatever her godforsaken name was, didn¡¯t look like much of a threat to Amberosin at the moment anyway. Just as lost and confused as the rest of them. If not more.


    Ta¡¯K was just in front of the Alta woman now, down in her crater. Ragoth was behind her at the edge of the crater''s end. Mezir moved forward to stand by Ragoth. Patri stood where he was beside Mezir¡¯s big metal box holding the unconscious woman. Amberosin could see his eyes flicker from their group to the surrounding wilders. Nervous as ever, ole Pat?


    He saw her smirk his way and immediately his stance straightened and he stared right back at her.


    Focus you dumb girl. It wasn¡¯t the first time she¡¯d seen the look.


    Right.


    Amberosin walked casually to the right side of the crater, her back to the high cliff ledge, giving her eyes on the forests to the east. Korrin shot her a quizzical look before slowly mirroring her actions. They all watched in tense silence as Ta¡¯K raised his right arm and placed the stub that was his wrist on the Alta woman¡¯s forehead. No one moved a muscle until a gleaming blue and white light escaped Ta¡¯K and engulfed all of them about the crater. It lasted only a second, possibly less even, but when Amberosin¡¯s vision cleared from the bright shock, everyone else, save the sleeping woman, was in tears.


    Torrents of water tore down Heria-Helena¡¯s scarred cheeks. She was down on her knees, arms wrapped about Ta¡¯K¡¯s wrapped legs. Korrin had her hands over her face weeping as she walked into the crater and slammed herself into Ta¡¯K¡¯s side. He wrapped his left arm over her shoulder. Ragoth sobbed, snot fell freely from his face as he slammed beside Heria-Helena and laid into Ta¡¯K¡¯s legs. Patri barely held on to the sleeping woman as he stumbled over to the group in the crater, weeping in loud laughs and groans. He ended up behind Ta¡¯K with his forehead pressed to the back of the bandaged man¡¯s skull. Mezir, the big lumbering bastard, sobbed the loudest of the bunch and wrapped his arms around all of them.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ I guess I missed something?¡± Amberosin has seen the flash but nothing else after. Obviously, that had not been the case for everyone else. But why? Did they see what I saw before? More?


    Ta¡¯K turned his head toward her and flicked his head back. Come here. He said.


    And she did. Amberosin had no idea why, but she did. She ran with tears building in her eyes and slammed into him on his free side, accepting his arm around her as she buried her face deep into Ta¡¯Ks chest. Mezir¡¯s meaty arm fell around her shoulder, grasping Ta¡¯K¡¯s forearm. Heria-Helena¡¯s dreaded animal arm was about her leg, squeezing gently. The woman was saying something that Amberosin couldn¡¯t hear over the combined weeps and groans of their curious huddle. She thought she heard ¡°I¡¯m sorry, so sorry,¡± come from somewhere but she couldn¡¯t tell who had said it. The sounds of all those about her mixed with the scents of their bodies. Ta¡¯K smelled like nature to her. Mezir¡¯s arm emitted a musk, strong but comforting, just like the man. Patri¡¯s typical smell of body odor and weak scented oils mixed in nicely, gave her sense of smell some grounding. There was a sweet smell, an acrid scent, and the common scent of sweat swirling around in their group as well. The sleeping woman was likely the sweet, Ragoth the sweaty, Heria-Helena the acrid. Korrin smelled of berries, something Amberosin had noticed at the bar. And there was something else. A spice perhaps?


    She sniffed hard, revealing in the closeness of it all. Then she had it.


    Cinnamon.

 Twenty Nine

    Senfe had never known her mother. Her father refused to talk about her. She had heard a servant years ago say that the woman was beautiful as ever and had a very distinctive choice in perfumes; specifically that she liked to smell like cinnamon. Constantly.


    ¡°Lovely woman, truly, though I do believe she would bath in cinnamon oil. She wanted the scent to be permanent on her! Ha!¡± He¡¯d been a good servant, answered all her questions one night while he drank with her nearby, listening to his tales and rumors on more than one occasion. Senfe could never quite recall his name, despite enjoying his presence so much. She wouldn¡¯t ever forget her first though. He died gargling on shards of glass from the whiskey bottle she smashed down his throat.


    He died for insulting Senfe¡¯s mother.


    She was ten years old at the time. Her father taught her to always clean up her messes, tidy up all loose ends. ¡°Then, you truly can do whatever it is you desire. Funny thing about life; we are our own gods, ruled by superstition and modesty. Ah.¡± Senfe¡¯s father definitely thought it was funny at least, always laughing. Giggling. Chuckling like a madman. But Senfe always listened to him. One, because he was her father- and two, because she knew the man was a genius. She didn¡¯t know the extent of his plans at any given time but she knew they were the right ones. So she had learned to clean up her mess.


    Ten-year-old Senfe had buried the body of the servant, feeling he was owed that much for the snippet of useful information he shared about her mother. Her second, third, fourth, and fifth victims were his family. His wife, two children, and elderly mother. They had invited her in without any hesitation. A ten-year-old girl covered in blood screamed crisis to them. She let them clean her, took their change of clothes, and ate with them that night. Senfe stayed silent for the most part, playing the trauma angle so much as she could. She played games with the young children until their mother insisted it was time to sleep. She assured the older women that she could make her way home on her own. Senfe stepped outside and climbed into a nearby tree. When all the lights inside had been put out she simply burned the home down with a single torch. Barred the doors. Went home to brag to her father when her work was done. She didn¡¯t know them. Didn¡¯t owe them a thing. No burials for the crisp corpses left behind.


    Since then, Senfe¡¯s father had used her to the fullest extent of her abilities. He seemed to believe Senfe held some of his genius inside her as well and the young girl wasn¡¯t going to argue with her father after he gave such a heavy compliment. Even if she never felt like much of a genius herself White persisted that she kept up with her studies. He taught Senfe everything she knew about casting, how to truly manipulate essence- and people- and in what specific ways to cast that could prolong one''s youth, one''s life. She quickly became an irreplaceable tool in her father''s cabinet. The young girl was such an absorbent pupil that White had sent her into the other nations to take care of any number of discreet matters.


    They changed her look every so often; around every twenty years or so, people would begin to ask questions. Senfe¡¯s skin tone had been darker for a good thirty years, a bit lighter for the next twenty. She¡¯d looked like a Trallen with long braided hair. Like a sister from Matrius with a shaved head and blue cloaks about her body. For years she¡¯d posed as a lovely rosy-cheeked Nomad. She¡¯d spent some of the best times of her life among those people. And Senfe¡¯s eyes¡­ Her eyes had been every color known to Noctran¡¯s except their true color.


    A stark, icy white. Like all of her siblings.


    Throughout the years she helped her father, Lord White, with his operations to prepare for his silent, painstakingly slow coup. It was a long process and Senfe had killed people repeatedly at her father¡¯s request. Her body count soon became too high to bother keeping track. She¡¯d become different people all together for years to ensure his plans came to fruition. Senfe knew others might think it a dismal existence always at the beck and call of one great man or another but her father wasn¡¯t just some great man; he was the greatest man. Damn near-divine so far as she could tell. When he had asked her to go and save Patri from his Serpint¡¯s after the Fracturing began she didn¡¯t ask a single question. Just went.


    White had warned her, ¡°Don¡¯t get too attached to this one dear. Ten years'' time and he will be at the end of your blade. A short job. I know you aren¡¯t used to those. Your goal, for now, is just to keep him alive. I don¡¯t care how you do it or what you do otherwise. Just keep Patri alive. Keep the guild alive. Your brother will have missed them by the time he returns.¡±


    He¡¯d meant Mezir, of course. And he had been right.


    Mezir De Blancana the ¡°one and only bastard¡± of Lord White. While she had grovelled for years dodging around in the shadows slaying anyone in her father''s way, Mezir became a Legend. Loved and revered by Blancana and the other great nations. Heralded as a hero and Lord of the people. Senfe reminded herself often not to compare herself to such a failure, a disappointment to their father and his blood. She always had to remember that there were others, other children of Lord White, who had it far, far worse.


    As always, Senfe had done her job. She had done it well.


    The poor guild leader had been smitten with her instantly. A fact that made her job all the easier, for a while at least. The ¡°closer¡± they got the more questions he asked. The more lies she had to remember. It wasn¡¯t a problem, per se, but definitely a pain in the ass. She¡¯d had to create some fake noble client just to stop him from asking where she always disappeared to. Patri was a smart man but Senfe was one hell of a woman and she¡¯d put blinders on his eyes without him having ever noticed how tunneled his vision had become. She did like Pat, enjoyed the time they spent together, loved the early days when they would go out cutting down White¡¯s guard, looting caravans and stores, but she¡¯d grown to resent him as he had aged. As she always did with the men and women she bedded during her operations. Fun for a while but ultimately just more weak, mere mortals.


    Senfe had thought their last tryst together was more than enough of a goodbye present for the homely old thief. Patri had never been hard to please. Not for her at least. He chalked it up to his unbelievable attraction, his infallible love for Senfe; she knew, however, that it was just her years of experience. She¡¯d been Patri¡¯s lover, his confidant, his second in command- for over a decade. None of it changed what she was to do. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    It didn¡¯t change the fact that on the night that Mezir, Patri, Amberosin, Korrin, that disgusting beast Heria, the bandaged freak, Ragoth, and Lili-Bon were huddled together in a deep crater amidst the wilders- it didn¡¯t change that she had to kill him. Her blade would find him. He would know it was her.


    Senfe was going to make sure of that.


    Her poor sister could have Ragoth for all she cared.


    ***


    She was the shadows. Born to it. Raised in it. She revered the darkness that swarmed in and around her person. Her father had taught her how to appease it, conceal it; how to make it useful. She¡¯d rarely had a need for a name herself, scarcely wore clothes- because she was never around people. Not live ones. Not ones that lived for long, anyway. She could be naked in the shadows. She could be whatever she desired. So long as she remembered that she was always, always a blade for her father.


    Lord White had always demanded her complete and utter obedience. He knew how the beast inside of her worked. Knew that it could never truly be trusted or controlled. Not in entirety. It could, however, be guided. Persuaded, he had taught her. He¡¯d held it in himself not long before her, incubating it. Preparing it for great things before he passed it on to her to do the same. Marina, as Ragoth¡¯s silly little mask had labeled her, was required to feed the beast whenever it so desired. To live her life as its vassal, to be its guiding light. A beacon that always led back to Lord White. It was her true purpose. It had, of course, been hard for her as a young girl. At first.


    When she actually went by the name Marina the great capital of Blancana had just become a nation of its own. It was smaller then, even smaller than it was after the Fracturing, the whole of their lands could fit thrice over inside Lord White¡¯s current estate. She was eight when Lord White appeared in her home; a small white stucco hobble that her mother and false father could scarcely afford. Marina had gone out to play with friends from a few miles away. A rather uneventful day spent exploring areas they¡¯d seen a thousand times over but a decent one nonetheless. She hadn¡¯t made it home until after nightfall and was afraid of what her mother might have to say. But her fear was unfounded. Marina¡¯s true father had appeared and he had slain everyone else in the house. The pittance of a man she thought to be her father. The halfling children he sired with her mother. Her lying whore of a mother died with her hands reaching for the door. Marina almost stepped on her rigid fingers.


    Lord White was a merciless shade as he tore through them, laughing on the winds that followed behind. When he was done their shabby home was stained red. Marina couldn¡¯t recognize the remnants of her family scattered about the walls. The ceilings. She was in such a state of shock and horror that she hadn¡¯t moved at all when White walked over to her. He was a shining white beacon in a sea of red. He moved slowly. Calm. Hands raised in a sign of peace that even she could recognize.


    White, Marina¡¯s true father, had crouched in front of her, placed a soft hand on her cheek, and ever so gently removed the contacts that her mother had made her wear every moment since the day she had been born.


    He smiled. So genuine. So kind.


    ¡° Young one,¡± Lord White chuckled softly, ¡°I have come to free you.¡±


    With that, he¡¯d picked up her urine-soaked body and held her close. In just a few moments they had traversed back to White¡¯s humble estate without her ever having felt anything changing. Her father had seen the question in her swollen, sordid eyes and answered her gingerly.


    ¡°In time, my sweet. You will learn. In time.¡±


    And Marina had. Quickly.


    By the time Ragoth had ¡°found¡± her in the midst of the bandaged fellow''s impressive massacre, she¡¯d already been traversing the shadows for a good two decades. They kept her young. Healthy. Over the years they had even started to heal wounds for her. She¡¯d followed Ragoth when he left ¡° Watcher Marina¡¯s¡± cove, of course. Witnessed his colossal failure of a rescue attempt where he devastated some peasant¡¯s home, gave empty promises, and limped away like an injured pup. Marina had immediately found her father and reported the incident, as well as Korrin¡¯s arrival. She was his eyes and ears all around Blancana.


    Marina had even been there when Senfe seduced that average looking man, Patri, just for the hell of it, it seemed. She hadn¡¯t watched- all of it- of course, Marina was only there to transport Senfe to their father and back in time for¡­ well whatever it was he had planned.


    It was also Marina that ¡°attacked¡± sweet Lili-Bon in the alleyway. Mezir had walked right into that one. As expected.


    And she too was there in the clearing of the Wilders. Staring at the group before her with a burgeoning bloodlust that excited her to the core. She ran her hands over her bare nipples, breathing hard, sharp breaths as she slowly ran circles over them with two gentle fingers. The beast had made her more feral as of late. More instinctual. Marina was lacking in her self control and she knew it.


    No. No. No dear. No time. Later. No- Yes. Later.


    Marina took in one more sharp breath as she released her throbbing nipples. Placed her body on hold, despite her every burning desire not to do so, and prepared herself for what her father needed her to do.


    ¡°Just the one, Marina. The others must live. You may only take him.¡± He¡¯d come to the shadows to talk to her. Ever thoughtful, her father.


    ¡°You may only have Ragoth.¡±


    ***


    All the pieces were set. All the actions to be in motion were. He had been impeccable with his timing, his acts. Ragoth, disguised as Mezir, had truly thought he¡¯d won one over on Lord White. But there was no such thing. Not any more. White chuckled to himself standing atop the high ledge behind as he thought about how much work had gone into making all the people gathered in the crater below him to think they were making their own decisions. He led them all there. He got them all together. And now¡­ now he needed to tear them apart.


    Their loss would strengthen those left behind, he knew. Though, it had not made the decision any easier. He loved all his children, blood, and otherwise. All of his citizens. No one would believe it, of course. But it was true. He did all of this for them. White had become a god so that they could win, in the end. Yes. One day they would surely defeat him¡­ but first they had to be bound together. They had to share in a defeat so profound that it haunted them until their final days.


    Such is the blight of Noctra¡¯s true Legends.

 Thirty

    Mezir was flabbergasted. Not only had Ta¡¯K reiterated his own misery at the hand of Lord White to each of them spread about the crater in but a fraction of a moment- He had shared all their stories. Their minds were connected for the briefest second and they had all seeped into one another. Mezir saw what conflicted them all. He saw the events that had broken them, through their own eyes. As if he was them.


    Mezir became Ragoth first and suffered through days of continuous torture without ever having been touched. He saw Lord White pacing back and forth in some sickening worry as his- no, Ragoth¡¯s- body burned like a husk of lit coal. Mezir felt the chains pinning Ragoth to the chair as Lord White siphoned memories from the poor boy, implanted his own; leaving only enough for Ragoth to remember that something was wrong. Different. It had been two years before Ragoth ever considered that he wasn¡¯t Mezir De Blancana. The flood gates had opened then, ravaging his mind. They had never ceased. Mezir felt Ragoth¡¯s conflicting desires to be a good ¡°son¡± to Lord White while helping Mezir to achieve his goal- which was ultimately to kill White.


    Then he jumped into the mind and body of Helena Seires. Mezir remembered hearing about her induction to Stroma Labs when he led his hopeful band of rebels to the Ta¡¯ Lands. He¡¯d known it was a ploy for something then, told his soldiers such as a matter of fact; but¡­ Mezir had been wholly unaware of how awful of a ploy it was. As Helena Seires the truth to his father''s ambitions, at least in regards to Stroma Labs, was revealed in entirety. He only lived through one night as Helena but it was more than enough. All that night told him about the young woman was that she was damn brilliant and- wholeheartedly in love with a bashfully ignorant Ragoth. Helena¡¯s dainty hands were scribbling down notes on a thick piece of parchment, theorizing something or another about Noctra¡¯s past based on what she and Ragoth had found together when looking at ancient layers of the planet''s mantle. She kept breaking from her work to give the spindly boy quaint smiles, unable to resist as he passionately spoke to the implications of their findings. Helena hoped that soon enough her affections would at least be noticed, if not reciprocated. Ragoth had looked at her, a wide smile planted on his own face, ¡°What?¡± Before she could answer, Helena Series was bathed in fire.


    An explosion tore through their labs and swept away everything. Everyone. Except for the lab''s foundations. She had been bound to die. Her limbs were all a mangled mess. Her jaw hung on one side, completely torn from her lovely round cheeks, painfully bobbing. Helena couldn¡¯t crawl or speak. She was resigned to the ash that fell on top of her mutilated form- but White didn¡¯t let that happen. Lord White strode through the wreckage towards her and young Helena was unable to fathom why he was there. Mezir knew why. Mezir knew he decimated the labs. It didn¡¯t matter. Knowing changed nothing. Through the eyes of a dying Helena, he witnessed her forced transformation into the Alta woman, Heria. He felt every agonizing second as Lord White, his father, crudely torn into the body that belonged to Helena.


    White worked with little precision, little care, as he hacked and ripped the mangled limbs from her body. He didn¡¯t even bother to cast to slow her bleeding or dull her pain. But he spoke. The entire time. Prattled on and on about how she would get to live out the rest of her days serving and protecting Ragoth. Bragging about his own generosity. Mercifully, she had passed out at some point and escaped the remaining horrors White committed on her person. When she awoke all she could remember was her name. It didn¡¯t fit the monstrous form she saw before her in her bed chamber¡¯s mirror so she changed it to Heria. Surprisingly enough, everyone else had known without her telling them.


    Mezir was ripped from Helena¡¯s tragic end and ¡°rebirth¡± only to be tossed into a tiny, frail body. It took him a moment to realize that the world around him was massive, everything towered before him. But then the woman came. She came and told him that his name was Korrin. Little baby Korrin? Little, sweet, silly Korrin with the beautifully mismatched eyes who his father had said was found abandoned in the streets near a burning estate. Korrin showed Mezir the truth. It was nearly too much to handle. He was learning all over again how truly heinous his father could be in pursuit of his goals. Korrin¡¯s view ended with blackness.


    Mezir was sure he knew what would have come next. Just another broken mind. Just?


    The darkness began to steadily fade, ebbing in and out to bright scenes of what looked to Mezir to be paradise. Every flash of sight offered him an intimate tour of the once deified Ta¡¯ Lands. The Land of the Venerable. Thick, lush, brightly spotted forests intermingled with homes of all shapes and sizes; some had even made homes higher up in the massive wildertrees. All of the homes looked entirely natural. The land around had been guided with essence to form their abodes. Roots and branches, swathes of dirt and stone, all spun about each other in an eternal dance to form strong, mystical structures frozen in an endless season of warmth and beauty. There were millions of Ta¡¯, thousands of tribes, lifestyles, abodes, and practices. But they were all peaceful, lovely, in their foundations. They were united in their beliefs about the sanctity of life. Of Nocta and all of her children. Mezir realized these images must have been from Ta¡¯K¡¯s journey across his homelands. A journey made by all young Ta¡¯ when their families deemed them ready. It seemed Ta¡¯K¡¯s father had thought highly of him and his elder brother, for the memories included each boy walking together on a journey that was meant to signify their first steps into adulthood. A journey neither would¡¯ve taken so early had they not been the sons of Ta¡¯ Uma, Mezir imagined; though they both seemed more than skilled enough to have earned the right. He saw them hunt, build, cast, fish, and heal like professionals that were many centuries older than the boys. Centuries older, though not any less vivacious. Ta¡¯ weren¡¯t considered elderly until a natural eight hundred years or so if Meizi remembered correctly. He almost always did.


    Once more he witnessed the death of Ta¡¯Jir through Ta¡¯K¡¯s young eyes but this time there was more. Mezir became the boy for just a while longer than before and lived through his journey to the mines. It was a dark journey, blindfolded in the back of some small cart. His small hands bound behind his back with a chain that burned his skin- draining his essence- Mezir could feel it suck the literal life out of the boy. A tactic to save Lord White some time to plan before his escape, no doubt. When they reached the mines his escorts threw him to his knees, unbound his hand, and threw Ta¡¯K over a smooth stone smeared in an old, dry red. It made the rock appear naturally crimson for there was no gap in the color. There, they stretched his hands over the stone. There, they took them with one swing from a long blade. One soldier held a blade heated with essence gathered from flame and cauterized the woods closed. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    The young boy¡¯s vision went dark and for a moment Mezir was in himself. But that moment passed. He wasn¡¯t done quite yet.


    Life flashed before his eyes, quicker than before, less detailed. But he knew who it belonged to, he¡¯d been present for a good chunk of it. Patri¡¯s weaker supply of essence seemed to mean a weaker connection, though the memories were no less impactful for it. His father¡¯s death and following dishonor. His mother¡¯s swift, selfish exit left her only child at the mercy of thieves and vagrants. Surrounded by Lords and Legends that leave a thousand dead children in their wake. Patri had survived as long as he had due to his considerable charm and skill- and not in the least, a bit of luck.


    The last few bits of Patri¡¯s were from the years Mezir was absent and what little he saw was hardly discernible¡­ though he could feel everything the man had. Blindly assaulted by Patri¡¯s emotions he came to understand that Patri really was in love with that woman- Senfe! Mezir had a nagging feeling when he saw one clear image of her face from Patri¡¯s essence. The eyes¡­ they didn¡¯t look quite right.


    Then, Mezir was himself- mostly. The emotions and thoughts of the others still swarmed through him, breaking his focus, sending him into awful sobs along with everyone else. He ran into the group hug and reveled in it for a moment before his mind had fully cleared and then it was like an alarm ringing in his ears.


    Mezir didn¡¯t see anything from Amberosin, which he expected. Using essence effect that girl directly was damn near impossible, or had been for him when he tried healing her. He was sure Ta¡¯K used up a considerable amount of energy healing her before. It should¡¯ve been impossible but he knew that boy was nothing to be scoffed at. What had his mind ablaze was that there were two others missing from their connection; Lili-Bon, who may have been left out because she was unconscious he supposed¡­ but the second was much more concerning to him.


    Senfe? When did she run off?


    Mezir peeked around as Amberosin moved in close to Ta¡¯K. He couldn¡¯t see the woman anywhere, though her face was burned into his mind, consuming his thoughts.


    What was wrong with her eyes?


    There was nothing behind Amberosin save for a steep cliff that jutted out of the land like an inverted pockmark of stone grey against the vibrant greens of the Wilders. He saw no sign of movement or obtrusion from where they had come, situated behind Patri and Ta¡¯K. Far behind Patri, however, not yet even in the clearing, was a slender shadow. Mezir willed the essence of light around him, in which there was no short supply thanks to the luminous moons above, and cast it to his eyes. All the shadows of the distant wilders lit up with near painful intensity.


    Standing there, as Mezir expected, was a slim, beautiful woman with bouncing girls of black hair and glaringly white eyes. Just like his own.


    Senfe flashed out of his sight in an instant. He couldn¡¯t track her without his mask, only barely able to make out the trail of dust that shot up behind her.


    Mezir knew where she was headed. The real question that sat upon his mind would have an answer one way or another in just a moment.


    Am I fast enough to stop her?


    He¡¯d just released his embrace on Amberosin, Ta¡¯K, and the others when he felt a sensation he was no stranger to.


    A piercing cold, born of steel, like a rod of ice that burned through straight through his right thigh. There, sticking up out of his leg, straight as a perfect arrow shaft, was a blade of pure obsidian.


    Lili-Bon¡¯s hand was wrapped about the hilt.


    ***


    When she¡¯d first opened the notebook from Lord White she was happily surprised to have found a letter addressed directly to her. Written in her Lord¡¯s beautiful hand.


    Dearest Lili-Bon,


    I find myself conflicted over events that are now to come, for certain. I am not confident enough in my own temperament as of late to state these things to you in person, for the confusion and pain on your face would surely devastate my already waning heart. I will be brief, sweet girl, for I know your heart must be pounding my now, your routine has undoubtedly already been shattered by my premeditated intrusion. I am sorry for that. I am sorry for a great many things¡­ least of all the things I am sorry for is¡­. Lili. I will be dead within the next five years. I am not rueful about it, no, quite the opposite actually. I look forward to the day these tortuous games are over. Knowing I have done my part, and much more. I cannot write out all my plans or goals, all my reasonings or explanations, so I will not attempt to do so. I write this letter to you in hopes that you will help me to bring lasting peace to these lands before I am to disappear, to fade into ash as we all do. I am rueful, however, about the fact that I will be leaving you behind in a world not quite stable on its own footing. I will explain all that I can in the days to come but for now, I need you to do what you always have. Trust me. Trust that what I ask of you is best. I need you to take the knife stored in the back of this book''s binding, take its obsidian blade, and force it through my son''s leg. Mezir¡¯s. Not the one you¡¯ve known for the past few years, but the one that will save you in four days'' time. You will be in no real danger, but your fear will be real, it must be, for Mezir to fall prey to our machinations. Feign a deep slumber until you smell the distinct smell of cinnamon. And strike. Then run, Lili-Bon, run until you are back in the safety of the estate. On that night, we shall be enacting a second war for Noctra. And we will appear to lose, my dear Lili, but know that in the end¡­ in the end, all will be right.


    Love and sincerity,


    Lord White.


    Lili-Bon had been dizzy by the time she finished his letter but even as she still read, she already knew her decision. The logical choice, as ever, was to side with her trusted, powerful Lord White. And so she had. Lili had feigned sleep, carried by Mezir the whole way. At first her emotions from casting made her conflicted but as she held the dagger close to her skin, keeping it hidden just under her left breast, knowing Mezir would never dare touch her there. Would never be suspicious of his dear Lili-Bonnet.


    When she smelled cinnamon, she struck. Just as instructed.


    She drove the completely black dagger into the leg of a man that used to be a boy who set her chest ablaze. A boy who had been kind and honest. A man who had betrayed his father, his people, and disappeared for over a decade. Her emotional shock had settled and cold logic told Lili-Bon that running directly behind Mezir was safest. The blood on the side of her hands meant nothing. The fierce cry from Mezir meant nothing. All that mattered was that she got back to the one person who had ever believed in her.


    Her omnipotent Lord White.

 Chapter Thirty One

    Patri paled considerably, utterly dumbfounded by what had just happened. What he had partly allowed to happen. He hadn¡¯t received as vivid of visions from Ta¡¯K and the others but he was still reeling from the emotional impact of sharing essence with so many at one time. He was still lost in the smell of cinnamon that seemed to grow stronger by the minute. Patri was distracted on all fronts when the young noble woman at his feet sprang to life for the first time since Mezir had brought her back to their little crew.


    Why didn¡¯t I see anything about her?


    Patri¡¯s mind was scrambled, asking the wrong questions. He commanded himself to focus as he stared at Mezir¡¯s impaled leg streaming blood down the curvy black blade sticking straight through his thigh. He begged his body to move as Mezir made a sound of pure primal pain¡­ and rage. Patri screamed at himself inside to go after the fleeing noble woman as she darted behind his injured friend and ran. She was headed back towards the road into Blancana from the looks of it. Didn¡¯t matter. He couldn¡¯t move.


    It wasn¡¯t fear or panic that froze Patri, though those were both building in him by the second, he couldn¡¯t even turn his head. Mezir was gripping the blade in his thigh, mouth open wide as the canyons of Uma¡¯ desert, belting no doubt¡­ but Patri couldn¡¯t hear it. In fact, he couldn¡¯t hear anything at all anymore. Patri¡¯s sight remained. His mouth tasted like an acrid man¡¯s ass so taste was entirely intact, to no benefit of course- but it wouldn¡¯t move either. He was frozen and deaf while his friend was tearing an ominous blade from his body. He was useless.


    Can¡­ Can I even breathe?


    Patri¡¯s heart walloped for a few quick beats, then slowed. Weakened.


    Does my chest hurt? Will my eyes mo-


    They did move, indeed, quickly so. They snapped down to Patri¡¯s chest before the thought could finish and he had instantly regretted it. A lake of dark stain spread across his grey cotton shirt. It hurt. Not physically, his body was still numb, slowing with each passing second. It hurt because he recognized the blade instantly. Shadows and figures moved in his peripheral vision but he couldn¡¯t make them out to anything sensible. His mind was fumbling. Patri¡¯s vision tunneled and he saw only one thing. Just the blade etched with an ¡°S¡± in the finest counterfeit jewels he¡¯d been able to find.


    An anniversary gift for Senfe. One he had smelted and hammered all his own. A thing of beauty, just like its owner. Patri saw tears build up before his eyes but was ignorant of the sensation of them running down his cheeks. The scent of cinnamon had all but engulfed him. It reminded Patri of when they made love.


    Love? Is this love? Is this my love?


    His answer was brief and crude beyond all measure. Against Patri¡¯s own will neck raised his head high, he could see the slender fingers on the side of his head just barely poking into his vision. Long nails of all colors, decorated with glittering beads, rested against him gently for a moment before his world spun.


    Patri¡¯s head alone swiveled, leaving his body facing Mezir and the others¡­ and he saw her. His beautiful, kind, trustworthy Senfe in her natural glory. A goddess among men, he had always believed. Those full lips that had brought him to his knees on a near-nightly basis now smiled at him with cold disdain. Her adorable button nose that Patri had always loved to poke and play about being her one truly feminine feature was now only inches away from his face, sticking out like a dagger situated on Senfe¡¯s prey. He¡¯d seen it before, that look, the high she got when she took a man¡¯s life¡­ he¡¯d never expected to be on the receiving end of it though.


    The only thing that broke his dying wish to stay in her arms and fade with the wind, happy despite it all, was her eyes. They were wrong. They were not his Senfe¡¯s eyes. This beast had eyes as white as Luna¡¯s crater pocked face shining high above their world and held not an ounce of kindness in them as she stared him down.


    This is not my Senfe. This is not my love. This is¡­ is... not¡­


    ***


    Amberosin had her face buried in Ta¡¯K¡¯s nature scented shoulder when she felt Mezir rip his hand from her own shoulder and roar like a wounded, ravenous animal. By the time she had looked up to see the noble woman sprinting away Mezir had just torn an obsidian blade from his thigh and was turning to throw it at the fleeing attacker. Ta¡¯K had already moved to aid Mezir. His body looked thinner than before he had cast but nowhere near as sickly as he had at the Tainted¡¯s bar. Korrin was still weeping torrents when she lunged in the opposite direction of Mezir and Ta¡¯K, towards-


    Pat?


    It took her a moment to register what was wrong with the man standing before her. A man she had known for the majority of her shitty life, who was generally kind and helpful¡­ who she beat to a pulp every time she¡¯d had the chance¡­ she knew how Patri looked but her brain refused to see what was wrong. Until she saw the shadow behind him. The glaring white eyes broke through her denial, seemingly lit up Patri¡¯s sickening image for her naive mind, just before he fell to the ground. His head faced entirely the wrong way and though his body fell onto it¡¯s stomach, Patri¡¯s wide pupils, his undeniably dead eyes, landed right on here.


    Patri?!


    The words wouldn¡¯t escape her mouth. All that escaped a soundless growl as Amberosin¡¯s hands grabbed the thin, minutely serrated blades from the back of her shabby clothing. By then Korrin was already clashing with the stranger.


    The walking dead!


    Amberosin flew a good two heads above Heria who had just turned at the touch of Ragoth¡¯s hand. She slid, rolled, and dove again with blades extended, striking just when Korrin finished a heavy slash of her own short sword. The shadow before them kept skipping through the swathes of light coming from the bright moon¡¯s above, too fast for a good look, but too slow to keep Amberosin from seeing a pattern.


    She waited until the murderous shade was only five steps away and struck like a patiently waiting serpent. One blade high, one blade low, both held parallel to her forearms. One, two, three- clashes of steel on steel. The shadows'' arms were beginning to glow with the signs of burgeoning essence. They came faster than before, sidestepping Korrin¡¯s valiant attempt to sweep their leg with her own blade, it¡¯s purposely bent tip scarcely missed their leg. But scarcely was enough. Their own ornate sword shone, reflecting the light from above to show Amberosin their attacker''s face.


    Her arms went weak with numbness when she saw Senfe staring back at her. Eyes white enough to chill her blood. It had the exact opposite effect of looking into Mezir¡¯s eyes. No invigoration, no hope, no love. An empty, white canvas of destruction stared back at her, suddenly making the beautiful Senfe seem much older. Harder. Crueler.


    The maddening grin on Senfe¡¯s face did nothing to quell the effect on Amberosin. It was all Senfe needed, a moment''s hesitation, just a sign of weakness. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Amberosin¡¯s blades both slipped from her paralyzed fingers.


    Despite her fear, despite the immeasurable pain of betrayal¡­ and loss- despite the hopelessness of her situation, Amberosin snarled and lunged forward.


    Determined to meet Senfe¡¯s blade on her own terms.


    ***


    She felt Ragoth¡¯s hand on her shoulder. Warm and gentle- but firm.


    Tap. Tap. Tap-Tap.


    They¡¯d perfected unspoken communication over the years serving as ¡°Mezir¡± and his trusted number two. Heria. Heria- who she needed to be right now. Regardless of her own stupor and conflictions with the lives she had just experienced, with her own life, she moved with the efficiency and speed that Heria had built. Helena wasn¡¯t prepared for these situations. Not yet. She¡¯d been buried for far too long. It would take time, she knew. But time wasn¡¯t available just then, so Heria took charge.


    Ragoth dashed off after Mezir and Ta¡¯K who had chased down Lili-Bon. Mezir held her high above the ground, thick shadows swirling around his body, spawning from his metal arm.


    Lili-Bon!¡­ No. Later. Think later. Think less. Move more. Faster! She made her choice.


    But had she? Did any of them really have a choice? Heria didn¡¯t care. Caring was left for Helena. Heria struck.


    Essence shone up and down each of the dreads on her massive arms, glowing bright yellow, red, and green. Yellow she used to call forth the soft soils around her and had it fling her towards Amberosin. The red she cast out carefully, precisely commanding it to move Amberosin and Korrin with unseen hands just before a white-eyed woman lunged at Amberosin.


    The green vanished from her dreads as she landed, seemingly without cause. Heria glared at a beautiful woman with eyes of purest white that marked her as a child of Lord White¡¯s.


    Great. Wouldn¡¯t want this to be too easy.


    White¡¯s beautiful bastard laughed as she shot forward with a speed that spoke to some invisible casting. Of course, she can do it without a shine. Of course. Oh, fuck it. She sprung her trap, much, much earlier than she had planned. Heria grasped at what little hold she had on the green essence that had cast into the ground and tore it upward. The dead man¡­ Patri¡­ was swallowed by the maw of roots and dirt that opened wide in Noctra¡¯s forest. There was a boom like a cannon shot from afar before all that rose crashed back down and affixed itself so much as it could. Mounds of rubble, of upturned lands resettled, dotted the clearing before Heria.


    Amberosin and Korrin both stared with wide eyes, a tinge of a smile on Korrin¡¯s lips. Korrin.. Who I didn¡¯t even recognize until I was deep within her mind¡­. Korrin¡­


    ***


    Heria didn¡¯t see it coming, she was too busy looking at Korrin. Korrin was severely impressed with her dear friend for the feat she had just managed but all she could think was pay attention, you idiot! Don¡¯t look away! But it was too late to say anything of the sort as one of the new mounds made of dirt and Noctra¡¯s other natural resources shimmered for a moment before it exploded in a ball of multicolored light. The woman, Senfe if she remembered right, was riding the light like a flying board beneath her feet, almost already in front of Heria, blade held high.


    Amberosin ran forward, completely unarmed, and jumped up to meet the flying woman with a hard kick to the stomach. Amberosin¡¯s natural speed and finesse made Korrin appreciate the young woman in a new light, albeit, a bit of a lustful one.


    Not now Korrin, if we live through this then¡­ maybe.


    Korrin smirked a little harder at the thought as she barreled into Heria and knocked them both out of the way of Senfe¡¯s now riderless board of light and essence. Amberosin had the white-eyed woman pinned to the ground, both hands securing her wrists while Amberosin¡¯s muscular legs dug pointed knees into Senfe¡¯s thighs.


    Senfe was laughing. She knew, as did Korrin, as did Amberosin it seemed, that if Amberosin made a move to choke the woman, to punch, to grab for a nearby piece of natural shrapnel or one of her blades, she would lose her grip, and the fight. Her life would be forfeit. Korrin watched from not even fifteen paces behind the two women wallowing in soft soils that had quickly become wet from dissipating essence, smearing mud as they rolled one way or the other, Amberosin always on top.


    Senfe stopped laughing when she realized how wet the dirt around her was and was visibly straining to keep Amberosin back while she fought to hold her mouth away from the building liquid about them.


    Heria must have struck water underground...


    Even from as far back as Korrin and Heria were, they could both see Amberosin¡¯s back muscles lose tension, no less resolute or firm, but much less knotted. Now it was her turn to laugh. Korrin and Heria stood, Heria turning to check on the others, Korrin facing Amberosin who was forcing Senfe¡¯s face into the watery mud. She could see Senfe¡¯s body building with the light of essence but it went nowhere. No matter how hard Senfe visibly struggled to cast it out, at Amberosin, it seemed to dissipate before any true harm could be done, though it did look like Amberosin felt quite a few stings.


    Korrin saw it touch Amberosin a few times and wither with a cloud of dust she could barely see floating up with the sigh of unstable essence fading. Part of her felt like she should stop the girl but she couldn¡¯t place why¡­ it was just. A deserved end for Senfe, it seemed.


    An end that wouldn¡¯t come just yet.


    ***


    She wanted to hold Senfe down and feel her lungs fill with mud, with dirtied water and stones toppled by Heria¡¯s attack. Amberosin wanted swift revenge for Patri, longed to feed her newfound rage before it disappeared but something was bothering her. Senfe had stopped fighting, though her rising chest told of life still preserved. She no longer thrashed or bucked. Didn¡¯t move a muscle outside of shallow breaths.


    Even with a creeping dread spreading throughout her body Amberosin only pressed harder against Senfe¡¯s neck, shoving her face as deep down as she could. Consequences be damned she was going to have this. Her world had been changed, shattered enough as it was without such an awful betrayal. What gave Senfe the right to fuck it up even more?! What gave her the right to destroy Amberosin¡¯s ideal for a good, strong love?!


    Fucking useless child of a monster in the guise of a man! Fucking whore! Patri loved you!


    Amberosin only screamed as she began pounding Senfe¡¯s face over and over, holding her down with one hand while the other went to work. She would kill her and destroy her beauty in doing so. She needed to do it. No matter the cost. No matter the price it placed on her already struggling soul.


    That night Amberosin killed with her bare hands for the first time.


    It was so intimate she almost got sick. She swayed on top of Senfe¡¯s still body. She swayed from side to side until fell in the mud- the grime coated blood and gore from Senfe¡¯s devastated, caved face- and sobbed.


    After a moment she felt a hand on her back. She rose, covered in filth and death to find Korrin staring at her with soft, tear-filled eyes.


    I know. I know.


    Amberosin wished they could weep together here until she felt weak enough to sleep but she knew better. With Korrin¡¯s help, she forced herself to shaky feet and took a deep breath. She straightened herself on Korrin¡¯s shoulder and looked up towards the others in time to spot a ball of shadow slam into Ragoth.


    Heria was already in the air but she would never make it in time. Amberosin could feel her chest tighten, her stomach knot, as she watched the woman try to stop the inevitable. She wished she could tear her eyes away but the tragedy beckoned her to observe. Korrin was letting go of her to sprint too, rushing to save a friendship the likes that Amberosin was sure she¡¯d never had.


    She swore she could hear laughing in the wind. Followed by a chilling scream.


    The noble woman was crawling in front of a mass of shade that had consumed Mezir. Ta¡¯K had his hands raised in front of Mezir, pointing towards Ragoth and the others¡­


    Trying to stop him? Trying to save him?


    No¡­ she realized¡­ he¡¯s trying to save us.


    The laughing only grew louder. It was coming from above. From the cliff¡¯s ledge.


    A figure draped in White adorned in a horned helmet stood up there, staring down at all of them like insects in a glass cage.


    She was running before she even realized it. Straight towards the cliff.

 Chapter Thirty Two

    Ragoth¡¯s world spun. One, two, three- quick corkscrews in mid-air and he was falling back towards the ground. He landed headfirst and bounced an entire body''s length before he stopped. A mass of swirling shadows slammed into him immediately, much harder than it had before. This time, however, Ragoth simply slid backward a few paces before a mound of dirt built up behind him. Noctra¡¯s own subtle support sapped out the speed of his sliding body before he¡¯d gone too far,


    Now you try to help me, eh? Fickle as ever.


    An acrid and metallic warmth hit his lips as he chuckled to himself.


    Jarring laughter answered him from within the endless darkness and froze Ragoth''s own ironic chuckles in their tracks. Ragoth recognized the voice, barely. It was layered in distortion and the infinite echoes it created sounded like a haunted comms report stuck on an infinite loop but if he imagined it quieter¡­ more feeble¡­ less tainted¡­


    ¡°Marina!¡± Ragoth did his best to shout. He couldn¡¯t hear anything but the universe of wicked laughter bouncing around him¡­ but he tried.


    ¡°Marina! Listen to me dammit! Please!¡±


    Fuck me to an early grave¡­ if I¡¯d held on to the mask I could¡­ What, Ragoth? What could you have-


    Silence was upon him.


    It hit Ragoth like a runaway carriage mowing down the unsuspecting. He lost his train of thought for a moment in the heavy absence of sound and wondered if he weren¡¯t already dead. Alas, he¡¯d tasted blood in his mouth, his left side was aching terribly and so far as he knew the dead couldn¡¯t think about if they were dead or not¡­. Right? Much like with everything else in his life, Ragoth just felt lost. Clueless. Alone.


    Alone? No¡­. no, where is she? The darkness is still here, so is she.


    The calm, cool voice of the Mezir he had crafted over the years spoke to him as it had thousands of times. Though now, he knew it to be false. The real Mezir was alive.


    Chasing down Lili-Bon¡­ who impaled Mezir, who- Focus! Right. Right¡­ so, I can¡¯t see a damn thing. But I can listen. I¡¯m good at that, I thi- quiet Ragoth. Right.


    The silence chilled his very bones, though he much preferred it to Marina¡¯s demonic laughter, and in truth, it wasn¡¯t totally silent. There was a constant whooshing sound that emanated from the shadows around him, almost in time with the swirling obsidian. Almost.


    Ragoth knew he had a chance if he could figure out why there was a difference in the sound of the shadows and their constant swirling movement. If he was fast enough to capitalize on that fraction of a second, he might just survive. Marina seemed to be watching him as well, waiting for something. Ragoth followed suit and waited.


    The swirling shadows¡­ the sound¡­ the gap¡­. Swirling, sound, gap¡­. Fuck.


    He had no idea what to make of it. He felt as if he had pieced a jigsaw together only to find there was a single missing piece. Ragoth knew he was an easy target just standing there. He didn¡¯t even stand tall and proud in the face of darkness and fear. Ragoth was hunched over, one hand planted on his left side. Gasping.


    Pathetic as ever, Ragoth. Up to the end. And this is the end, isn¡¯t it?


    He¡¯d noticed that the pain in his side had gotten worse and the origin point was further back than where he held his hand. He was sore down his entire left side but just out of his reach there was a thick aching mass that sent pain down into his guts. When he pulled his hand away it was thickly covered in red that had strands of white cloth glittering throughout.


    Marina had started laughing again.


    Tricky bitch! Ragoth had wondered why Lili-Bon hadn¡¯t been speared by the blade Mezir threw. She must¡¯ve caught it with the shadows she cast all around me. When she rammed into me the first time¡­ I¡¯d already lost.


    He could see her now. Only her. Marina¡¯s curvaceous body had been hidden beneath her Watcher¡¯s cloaks when Ragoth had last seen her, now, walking amongst the rolling shadows and living shade, she was fully exposed. Her light sepia skin may as well have been a beacon amidst the unending black around them. The shadows were slightly thicker in front of her breast and groin, though nowhere near dark enough to keep his eyes from peering through to what they hid.


    At least I¡¯ll die at the hands of someone beautiful¡­. That''s something, right? Yes, Ragoth, it is something; Pathetic.


    He fell to one knee but kept his eyes on Marina as she swayed her nude figure closer and closer. Ragoth had barely been able to control his physical¡­ excitement at seeing Mezir, at being held by Mezir. There, knelt before his encroaching reaper, he didn¡¯t have a reason to control it. Ragoth stretched his torso straight, baring teeth against the waves of pain it sent through him and made sure Marina could see how much he was enjoying her show.


    It was meant to be an insult of sorts, he thought, but when her eyes flicked to Ragoth¡¯s apparent erection he saw a spark of appreciation pass over her face before she smiled at him. Never breaking her provocative stride. For some reason, Ragoth felt it was a stab at what little pride he had left. Still, it kept her from catching his hand slipping just a bit further down his back than before. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Damn it. What kind of man can¡¯t even properly offend a naked woman with his hard cock?!.... Well. A good one, I suppose.


    A good one. Something he¡¯d not thought about himself in so many years, the last occurrence felt like a distant dream instead of a recent memory.


    Just out of reach. Almost though, almost.


    Ragoth stretched his back further, his eyes set on Marina¡¯s, who stared unabashedly as his steadily throbbing tent.


    There we go. Good, good girl, Marina.


    Keeping the smile from his face was torture. Ragoth knew though, if he smiled, he lost. Ragoth kept his face stern. Unmoving¡­ Alright, he winched a little bit, but otherwise, he was statuesque.


    I can do this. A concerning heat gushed down the left side of his back. I can. I have to.


    The black blade with curves down to its skinny tip was heavy in his hand, hidden behind his back, but Ragoth held it. Pure will-power kept his fingers wrapped about the hilt. He¡¯d scarcely seen the dagger Mezir had thrown after prying it from his thigh, though he was confident the one in he held was the same. Mezir wouldn¡¯t have missed, otherwise. Lili-Bon would be dead.


    Instead of Lili, I¡¯ll die. I can live with that. Ha! Take that Marina!


    Whether it was being so close to the edge of death or his mind had just finally snapped after years of strain, Ragoth did not know; but he was laughing. Uncontrollably. His gut and back bucked so hard he nearly dropped the blade that now had his and Mezir¡¯s blood drying down its length. Together.


    Together. At long last.


    Ragoth cried while he laughed. He smiled, Marina¡¯s victory be damned. She was beautiful, he was dying- it didn¡¯t matter. It was all natural. They all bowed to Noctra¡¯s whim in the end. Even Marina, who had walked nearer and nearer until she was dangerously close to Ragoth¡¯s face with her exposed breast. The shadows did nothing to hide her nipples now. He did nothing to hide his pleasure when she shoved his face against her chest. It was soft. Welcoming.


    What a way to die¡­ to die. Finally.


    Ragoth¡¯s hand relented and the blade fell to the ground. He didn¡¯t think about how useless he was. How many mistakes he¡¯d made. Not like usual. There, bleeding so freely his skin had gone cold, pressed against Marina¡¯s shadow swathed, naked body, weeping weakly¡­ all he could think about was Helena. Mezir. Amberosin. He could have killed Marina, made their lives easier. Done something¡­ but they wouldn¡¯t care. They¡¯d mourn him all the same as if he were some great man who had done something. It was peace. An end to all his worries.


    All their pity... Wasted. On me...


    The darkness around him became absolute then. He couldn¡¯t see Marina though her warmth was still pressed against his stubble ridden face. Ragoth imagined it as Helena, his second love, and then Mezir, his first love. Imagined he was leaving the world with their arms around him and not some mad, naked monster¡¯s. Accepted his peace. Accepted the end that would herald it. The slowing of his heart was the kickstart to an elation that would be eternal for Ragoth. Or, would have been.


    ¡°Sh. Sh, now. It¡¯s alright Ragoth. It¡¯s alright.¡± Her hand stroked his hair gently. So kind¡­ so¡­ ¡° Yes. I¡¯ll take care of you. Father says you''re important.¡±


    What?! No! No, not this. Not this!


    ¡°Yes. He says you are not quite done yet, young man. Not quite yet.¡±


    Ragoth heard the willowy gasps of fading essence. His heartbeat picked up.


    Marina was humming.


    ***


    Ta¡¯K watched as the ball of shadows that had enveloped Ragoth disappeared. Heria charged through the empty space it left behind and slammed into the ground with a primal cry. She scrambled about looking at the ground for a few moments in disbelief before her eyes squeezed shut and she faced away from the others. Ta¡¯K wished he could comfort Heria but at the moment he knew he was effectively¡­ useless. Synchronizing everyone¡¯s essence with his own for those few seconds had drained him and he wasn¡¯t exactly full of power and strength, to begin with.


    He had to turn his attention away from the lamenting woman and back to the matter at hand. Mezir had become a monster after the blade was torn free of his leg. His metal arm had begun shaking and holes had started *popping* in various spots, holes that emitted a dark mist. It covered the metal of Mezir¡¯s arm just after he¡¯d thrown the blade and started its way towards the man¡¯s muscular neck. By the time Ta¡¯K had been able to intervene, using up the absolute last amount of his essence, Mezir was already atop the noblewoman- Lili-Bon, from Mezir¡¯s memories- ready to bare a savage fist through her skull. He¡¯d had to kick Mezir the fresh wound on his thigh to get his attention.


    Mezir¡¯s eyes had been black, entirely, and seemed to pulse with streaks of grey throughout the smooth surface of his iris that swirled away like smoke. Upon seeing Ta¡¯K, however, Mezir had frozen. The black receded from his eyes and shot down to his forearm but Lili-Bon had started crawling away, whimpering, and caught Mezir¡¯s attention once more. He wasn¡¯t as fierce as before, though still not entirely in control, Ta¡¯K had been able to stop him with some simple pleading.


    When he turned from Heria¡¯s sorry sight he saw Mezir standing over a crying Lili-Bon. Mezir¡¯s breaths were calm and even. His right arm already patched.


    ¡°That blade, which you stabbed me with, Lili-Bonnet,¡± a bit of anger as he said her name but no rage, no bloodlust, ¡° it sapped me of my essence. I still can¡¯t even heal the wound all the way. It released the bonds of essence on¡­ on what nearly killed you. I never suspected you for a fool Lili-Bon.¡± Ta¡¯K could see the words slap the young woman across the face. Seemed she prided her own intelligence.


    ¡°It was just like when¡­ Ta¡¯K?¡± He was looking at Ta¡¯K but took care to move behind Lili-Bon, keeping her in sight. ¡°Amberosin was quite the challenge to heal with essence, wasn¡¯t she? I mean¡­ it was like it dissipated when it got past the skin. Like she was a vacuum that consumes¡­ well, was it like that for you?¡±


    Ta¡¯K nodded, astounded. It had been exactly like that. Amberosin looked exactly like a vacuum of essence, a void, to his venerable sight. Lili-Bon looked clueless from what Ta¡¯K could tell. Mezir noticed as well.


    ¡° Which means that you, Lili,¡± Mezir shot his glare down at her, ¡° were given the blade without being told what it is. Which means you are of no use to me. Dumb girl.¡± He turned his attention back to Ta¡¯K. Looked him over for a few seconds. ¡°Can you watch her for me, make sure she doesn¡¯t run off again?¡±


    Ta¡¯K nodded and gave a small bow. A gesture usually reserved for Ta¡¯ generals, traditionally. It felt right to Ta¡¯K and Mezir seemed to appreciate the gesture as he smiled wide and gave a slight bow back. A sign of their equal footing in Mezir¡¯s eyes. Then he was off. He sprinted past Ta¡¯K and jumped into the air riding on an invisible cloud of essence.


    He was flying towards the top of the cliff that Ta¡¯K swore seemed empty. He didn¡¯t dare try to use his sight for fear it might knock him out cold; it wasn¡¯t exactly casting but it did drain his essence substantially. Even from as far as he was from the cliffside himself, however, Ta¡¯K did see something that caught his eye.


    A lone figure quickly crawling and jumping up the rocky face with practiced ease. Ta¡¯K grinned at the sight.


    Amberosin.

 Chapter Thirty-Three

    The euphoric terror of her first bare-handed kill was fading fast and it sucked out all adrenaline along with it. She was more than halfway up the cliff¡¯s face and her hands were only getting heavier, her arms slower.


    Stupid move, Amberosin. Stupid, stupid move.


    Amberosin had no idea why she had run towards the incessant cackling that fell down the cliff¡¯s edge like a nauseating waterfall of sound. At the time her body moved forward she was more than glad to just get away from the shattered remnants of Senfe. Climbing the cliffside sent the chunks of gore and grime from her violent attack off of Amberosin¡¯s hands. Fortunately, most of it missed her face on the way down.


    Out of sight, out of mind.


    She was running out of time to make it to the top of the cliff before her body gave out. Amberosin could feel herself slowing but knew she didn¡¯t have much of a choice left. Going down wouldn¡¯t be any less stressful unless she wanted to go too fast and end up as a nice sized splat on the forest floor. Not an ideal outcome. Amberosin decided it was best to just keep moving up, no matter how leaden her limbs felt or how hard it was to close her fingers on the small handles she could find in the cliff¡¯s rigid face.


    Make it easy. Count and keep it low. One, two, three. One, two, three. One¡­ two¡­. Ah fuck.


    She was finding it harder than ever to will herself against her own body. The wound Mezir had stitched up in her back had torn open, a small ache building along the edges of re-split skin. Amberosin could breathe but it was nowhere as easy as it had been before her unfortunate street surfing incident. Mezir hadn¡¯t been able to patch everything with essence like Ta¡¯K had and Ta¡¯K had been so exhausted after he¡¯d helped her. Senfe had been unable to cast against Amberosin in self-defense. There was something itching at the back of her mind, an answer she¡¯d not even gotten the question to yet, but she couldn¡¯t focus on it.


    She was too tired.


    Amberosin¡¯s legs started shaking against the winds that rustled Noctra¡¯s wilders. Always made her think of dancing, something she had never done in her entire life, but admired all the same. She¡¯d loved the sound as a child, it was tranquility, even when the rest of the world was chaos incarnate. Like everything else in Amberosin¡¯s life, the dance of the leaves was tainted by a single horror; in this case, it was guttural cries, screams, from Heria far behind and below where Amberosin clung to the cliffside. She didn¡¯t dare turn to look back for she feared her body would not stop turning when she demanded; though, it didn¡¯t take much imagination to piece together what had likely happened. Amberosin had seen how the woman looked at Ragoth, recognized the look of longing, of unrequited love that life seemed to give to the unfortunate souls of Noctra with flippant abandon.


    Amberosin had heard the roar of irreparable loss, had belted it out herself more than once and felt for Heria. The woman had nearly buried Amberosin in the grounds of the noble¡¯s training grounds not even a week ago but Amberosin knew what Heria was going through now. Knew how much worse than death it could seem. How much worse than death it could be.


    Ragoth¡­. Who I thought dead for so long¡­. Who abandoned me¡­. My mother¡­ Ragoth, who Mezir had expected to be beneath his mask. Amberosin¡¯s hands tightened on small stone handles, begetting a tiny puff of dust and pint-sized rubble. Her fingers were buried to the first knuckle in stone, stone which stabbed into the callous skin on her hands and brought forth steady streams of red on the grey and greens of the cliff. Ragoth, who I mourned¡­ who I neglected to bid farewell, twice now¡­ because of my own fickle emotions. Ragoth! She surprised herself with a burst of energy fueled by the immense rage that Amberosin struggled to keep reserved far beneath her snarky, sarcastic exterior. The young woman leaped upwards a good four paces before slamming blazing arms back into the stone.


    There was more blood, more pain, and severe mutiny from her tiring limbs. Blood that fueled her rage and energized her very cells. Blood that threatened to break her grip if she didn¡¯t move fast enough. Mutiny that challenged her to fight back while she still could. It was a miraculous second wind that numbed the pain in her split wound upon her back and guided her body upward. Amberosin got a quick taste of the confidence and assurance she usually held in her own abilities, confidence that had fallen sharply since her run-ins with Ta¡¯K, Mezir, and Heria- real living Legends in the making- in a very short amount of time. She savored the familiar boost that her strong granted, tongued the delicious taste of sure victory ahead of her, and leaped up one last time.


    Amberosin¡¯s hands slapped down flat on the top of the cliff and she hugged her body to the side. The ground beneath her hands relented to her touch a slight bit more than the stone and for a split-second, she was sure it was going to give way and drop her all the way back down. An express route to splat-town. After exhaling a painfully held breath she decided it was safe to pull herself over the edge.


    Just then Mezir flew by her on a shimmering mass of what looked like swirling winds situated beneath his feet. The force from his rising threw Amberosin up and over the edge where she crashed into a grassy area, landing right on her opened back wound. Even as the air left her lungs Amberosin thanked Noctra that it hadn¡¯t been stone where she landed.


    Pat would have counted me lucky for such a thing. Would have¡­


    She rolled from her back to a crouched position that was more to give some solace to her pain-ridden figure than hide her presence and saw Mezir dispel his cloud of air. The laughing that had been consistent for at least five minutes straight suddenly stopped. After a few tense seconds, Lord White stepped out from behind a tree thin enough that it should not have hidden his massive visage.


    ¡°Why, Mezir- my boy! You should have told your dear father you were coming home, I would have prepared a feast! A party in your honor!¡± White threw his hands out in extravagant motions and held them wide facing Mezir as if he were expecting a small child to run into his arms and hug him tight. The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Mezir shook visibly from behind with his fist clenched.


    ¡°Oh, dear. Are we still upset, my bo-¡±


    ¡°Do not!¡± Mezir exploded and brought his natural fist to his mouth, baring his teeth down on the skin so hard Amberosin thought he was going to break through and start devouring himself in a senseless rage. Just before it seemed inevitable that he would pierce through his own hand, he stopped- took a deep breath. Put his hand back to his side and stood tall. Fully facing White.


    Amberosin was terrified for the man. For both of them. She¡¯d scarcely survived a short encounter with White and she¡¯d had Ta¡¯K to help¡­ sort of. And Mezir¡­ well she¡¯d rode on a machine of cogs and stone that he made without breaking a sweat! These two were giants and Amberosin felt like a mere rodent groveling on the ground, accepting that her fate rested entirely on these men''s decisions. It was humbling enough to be sickening.


    ¡°Father.¡± Mezir¡¯s voice shook but his body was still now. ¡°Let us not pretend as if you were unaware of my presence in Blancana. Let us not pretend you give a rat''s ass about me¡­ Let us not pretend that if we had an audience sizable enough- credible enough- that either of us would be speaking.¡±


    Lord White¡¯s hands fell slowly to his sides. ¡°Ah. Yes. I was aware that you were around, however, I do care about yo-¡±


    ¡°Furthermore, father,¡± Mezir seemed to ease a little as White¡¯s own fists clenched for a moment, obviously unhappy with being interrupted a second time, ¡°I was around for much of your conniving and planning, even if I did not see it as such then. I know how your empire works. How your legalities work. If I am to have any true claim to the throne it will have to be through legitimate means. Seeing as I am no longer a citizen of your tragic kingdom nor member of your household there is only one legitimate claim I have to the throne. My blood. Since I have renounced your name, I cannot ascend peacefully.¡±


    There was a thickness to the air around the men emanating far enough that she felt her chest tighten just at being so close. No one moved or said a word for a good few minutes. Both men analyzed their opponent- Their father and son, respectively. Heir and Emperor.


    ¡°Then it is war.¡±


    ¡°So it shall be.¡±


    Lord White turned to leave without saying another word but stopped after three excruciatingly slow steps. ¡°Ah,¡± he turned with a finger held high in the air as if a thought had just occurred to him, ¡°I nearly forgot! What do you say about dear Lili-Bon? It really was my fault for manipulating the poor, poor girl¡­ will you spare her? Her transgression precedes the war, technically, as it was just officially declared- Such is the protocol for all of Noctran armies. A notion that itself precedes my¡­ claim to the empire.¡±


    ¡°Such was the protocol, you fuck.¡± Mezir growled out before shaking his head with a long sigh. ¡° If I am to ascend to the throne, I must follow your established protocols, I know, as it is now law. If I took it otherwise your citizens would surely revolt, no matter how much better their lives would be for it. You¡¯re smart, Lord White, but you are not omnipotent. I¡¯ll let you think about what I shall do to Lili-Bon once she''s back in our encampment. Nothing so heinous as you would do, surely, though¡­ Trallen''s are always rather fond of their fires and scathings.¡±


    Amberosin wasn¡¯t sure what a scathing was but by the way it hung in the air between the men she knew it was nothing to be desired. Hearing Mezir talk as such made her stomach go cold. But, she understood. She could see his position, at least somewhat. It apparently wouldn¡¯t be easy for him to kill the noblewoman- Lili-Bon- or he¡¯d likely already have done it. Amberosin would have gutted anyone who stabbed her in the thigh with such an ominous looking blade. Thigh wounds were a bitch¡­ but if it was someone she knew and cared for¡­


    Like Senfe? No. No. That was different. She¡­ she wasn¡¯t who I thought. But.. who is?


    ¡°Fine. Since you want to be so difficult, Mezir¡­ you are therefore taking one of my soldiers, one of my assets involved in our recently established war, and I shall have to do the same-¡±


    ¡°You took Patri.¡± Flat, cold, terrifying fury.


    ¡°No, no, Senfe killed Patri. Just because she is my daughter does not mean I commanded her to do it. Precedes the conditions.¡±


    ¡°Ragoth.¡± There was a growl growing in his throat.


    ¡°I have no idea where Ragoth has gone.¡±


    Mezir looked as if he was going to charge his father and choke the man to death despite what it may do to his plans which were evidently important enough to stall the revenge of a whole continent, the whole world so far as they knew. But he eased once more. Amberosin could see a swathe of quick glowing essence shoot up and down Mezir¡¯s spine from where she crouched.


    ¡°You have him hostage. That will be enough.¡± This time Mezir turned to go.


    ¡°Ah, no. Sorry Mezir, I cannot let this one go. Of course¡­ I could just kill myself and will the empire to one of my other bastards. One who will keep my ways alive for generations to come¡­¡±


    Mezir stopped. Stopped, but didn¡¯t deny that he thought his father would do it.


    Amberosin didn¡¯t doubt he would. Crazy fuck.


    ¡°Or¡­.¡± White paused longer than necessary, chuckled just loud enough to make Mezir¡¯s lip flare, ¡°I could just take your sister, for the time being.¡±


    ¡°Sister?¡± Mezir¡¯s face told Amberosin he was as confused as she was. ¡°Stin¡¯s is nowhere near here you delusional¡­¡± he stopped and trailed off as a painful thought crept over his face. He covered it with a quick confident smile, forced, but true so far as she could tell. ¡°She is too far down there for even you to get her, you senile. Korrin and Heria are as ready to gut you as I am and I do happen to believe Korrin has taken a small liking to her. So, good luck.¡± Mezir chuckled briefly himself before White burst into full-blown laughter.


    ¡°Oh, Mezir, my boy! You still do not pay enough attention, do you? Not always. You¡¯ve got that damn tunnel vision, just like me I suppose.¡±


    Korrin¡­ Heria¡­ he wouldn¡¯t be talking about Senfe¡­ was Lili- no, no they spoke of her differently. Close. But not family. Ta¡¯K¡¯s bandages are wrapped tight enough that anyone could tell he has got the parts of a man. An impressively e-


    The ground beneath Amberosin¡¯s feet ripped out from that which was around it and propelled her into the air. She fell through nothingness in a full state of shock for a second before her senses kicked in and she tried to spin. Too late. A white-gloved hand wrapped around the back of her neck. She felt a small prick of warmth at the nape of her neck and then she felt nothing. Could move nothing.


    ¡°Hello, Amberosin. My darling.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Four

    Mezir stared at the empty air where his father and Amberosin had just been. White had spoken and without any other sign than his sentence ending the air in front of him and his captive spun into a black ball and swallowed them whole. It disappeared with a pop and a sigh. Mezir had stood there with his fist clenched shaking at the sight of nothing before him.


    I didn¡¯t even get the chance to tell her. The fucking monster- he just had to ruin that too!


    ¡°Ah!¡±


    Essence moved through him in harmony with his tumultuous emotions. It moved down Mezir¡¯s framework arm as his fist collided with the grass, dirt, and stone of the clifftop. It did so of its own volition; a trait of his as powerful as it was dangerous. In his explosive rage, the essence within him had decided to summon forth an equally explosive mixture that combined to make mini volatile balls of pyre essence wrapped in thin veneers of air. The result was destruction on a massive scale. The clifftop that he stood on split in two, all the way down the middle of its mass to the ground of the clearing below, and began opening wide. Stone groaned like a rusted vice as it tore away from itself and crashed down into the Wilders on either side. Miles of forests were squashed beneath the split stone. The clearing grew tenfold.


    All Mezir could think about as he fell down the gap his fist had created was what the damage would have been if they were in the city. How it would have been even more catastrophic than Ta¡¯K¡¯s display outside of Schuri¡¯s shop. How he had failed to contain his rage. Essence slowed Mezir¡¯s descent and formed a thin bubble around him as he approached the ground. An audible gasp, a pop, and a sigh announced the end of his protective bubble''s existence as he moved away from the still falling rubble. Mezir kept his eyes low as he walked back towards the clearing¡¯s center, held a slow even pace the whole way back, and stopped only when he was beside a sobbing Heria. Korrin held the woman in her arms so much as she could and was whispering to her, silent tears falling down her own face.


    Mezir knew he should tell them that Ragoth wasn¡¯t dead, not yet at least, but he wouldn¡¯t. That sorrow they felt would turn to rage, a cry for vengeance. He¡¯d make sure of it. Vengeance could be controlled, shaped to achieve a greater purpose. Rage could be solidified into strength. Heria would make a damn good soldier- if she continued to think Ragoth was dead- and Korrin was lost, confused about her own identity- with good reason to be. That was like finding perfectly workable clay to a general. Which he had been for years now, aspirations be damned.


    Compassion already taking a backseat, eh Mezir? Guess I am more like my father than I¡¯d like to admit. He was still getting used to being allowed to be himself, though the longer he was, the more Mezir was sure he didn¡¯t like himself so much anymore.


    Schuri is a much better person. Yes¡­ Yes, he is. And he is you.


    Mezir sighed, turned to Heria and Korrin, and called forth the best parts of his Schuri persona that he could muster under such heavy grief. Pushing aside his own overpowering depression Mezir conjured up a huge smile complete with tears cascading down his cheeks and tossed himself onto the ground beside the two young women and embraced them tightly. Pushed their faces into his chest. Willed his heartbeat to speed up as he did so, made it loud, prominent. Distracting. Then, he faked the compassion he could no longer feel. Mezir knew what should be felt, displayed, and that had always been good enough for everyone else. He was who he needed to be.


    Ease their suffering and they will follow you. Make them feel important. But not blessed.


    Mezir just needed to be the lesser of two extremely terrifying evils. That was all. He squeezed the women closer to him and sighed loud enough that their heads turned upward.


    ¡° As a veteran of battle¡­ a close acquaintance to death¡­¡± Mezir made sure to steady his breath, let it quiver, and caught it once more before clearing his throat, ¡° I¡¯ve learned that we mourn the dead too quickly and appreciate those that remain too little. I¡¯ve learned to appreciate the dead, their sacrifice, and to mourn those that remain. For we have the hardest part in all of this. We must carry on.¡± Mezir let his sobbing get heavier, just audible enough that they stopped their own tears and squeezed back in return of his embrace. He could hear Ta¡¯K leading Lili-Bon towards them. ¡°Heria¡­ Helena¡­ I didn¡¯t know you before. I don¡¯t know you now. But I loved Ragoth¡­ always. If he trusted you, if he held you so close at heart, that you feel this dismal at his loss¡­ then I too trust you. I know the anger you must be feeling, the rage and despair that death of a loved one brings to us all, that hungering for vengeance¡­ vengeance I can help you to achieve, but only if you can trust me as well.¡±


    Mezir loosened his grip on Heria and held her a few inches further away, far enough that their eyes could meet. Korrin cried into his chest even harder than before. Ta¡¯K and Lili-Bon just reached their small grouping when Heria nodded to him and fell to one knee.


    ¡°My Lord, Mezir. I¡­ I offer you my services in return for a chance to hurt Lord White. Substantially as I can¡­ but I would also like to stipulate that.. That maybe Ragoth isn¡¯t dead. I would like to know for certain before we leave Blancana.¡± She was smart, already knew they¡¯d be fleeing as soon as possible. Their small band was no army, obviously, but many men and women would¡¯ve prided themselves too much to retreat in the thick of it all. Especially men and women as powerful as Heria. Mezir commended her for that.


    ¡°As we should, Heria.¡± He¡¯d chosen her name and she nodded in acceptance. No room for second guesses from here on in. ¡°We will have to venture back into Blancana for that purpose¡­. And the purpose of retrieving Amberosin.¡±


    Mezir could see the news smack all of them at once. Korrin jerked and became rigid against his chest before she too backed away and took a knee before him. Ta¡¯K had nearly fallen looking around to confirm Amberosin¡¯s absence, no doubt frustrated at not having noticed. Something Mezir could relate to. After a moment he looked at Mezir and nodded, giving a small bow of the head. Mezir had noticed he was favoring his left leg again so he wouldn¡¯t push for a true kneel. No need. Ta¡¯ didn¡¯t bow easily. Lili-Bon was the only one who stood. Her hands were wrapped in a chain that Ta¡¯K had fashioned from the metals of his framework hands, the chain was connected to Ta¡¯K¡¯s right hip. Literally in his hip. Stolen novel; please report.


    Talk about devotion to the job.


    Mezir smiled, letting the stream of tears slow. At that moment he felt a real warmth, real compassion, one that he adored and desired beyond all else despite how vain it made him feel and he knew that they could do this.


    They would do it or they would most definitely die trying.


    ***


    Ta¡¯K had no idea what he was going to do about his leg. Mezir and the others had decided to move a mile or so into the Wilders and set up camp. Mezir wanted them all to rest while he devised whatever plan would supposedly get Amberosin back to them before they fled. The fleeing part didn¡¯t sit well with Ta¡¯K but he knew it made sense. He¡¯d seen the disparity between his own power and Lord White¡¯s. And Mezir¡¯s.


    When they¡¯d all set up their own bedding of various designs Ta¡¯K had gone to stand at the edge of the clearing, looking out to make sure White hadn¡¯t sent anyone back for any reason or another. It was empty aside from a lump of a shadow on the ground just before a massive pile of rubble and land torn asunder by Heria¡¯s attempt to stop Senfe- who was the lump of a shadow. Their violent commotions earlier in the day had chased away most beasts that resided nearby and there was no sign of any agents of Lord White¡¯s skulking around so Ta¡¯K felt safe enough to venture over to the woman¡¯s corpse. He limped on his aching leg the whole way.


    He¡¯d been steadily absorbing small amounts of essence from Noctra around him. Ta¡¯K had taken a tad bit of red life from rodents that still darted about, too concerned with surviving the attacks of hawks and felines to care about a felled cliff or broken ground. He¡¯d also taken a little from a hawk that fed on one of the rodents. Some green from the trees around, not enough to damage or change them, just enough to slowly get his body used to the feeling again. It was the only remedy his father had ever taught him the few times he¡¯d suffered from es-sickness as a child. It was a long, grueling process. But it worked. He approached Senfe¡¯s body feeling a bit rejuvenated thanks to the mix of essence swirling within him.


    Senfe¡¯s caved face was covered in dry gore. Filled with mud and what he was sure were things writhing in the mud; small beasts and insects come to convert the energy of the dead into something altogether new. Ta¡¯K had been taught that it was a beautiful process to revere, the decomposition and consumption of all things, and in theory, it was. In practice, however, it was horrifying. Humbling. Downright disgusting. He couldn¡¯t even find it himself to hate the hollowed-out husk of a woman¡¯s face for killing Patri. Ta¡¯K didn¡¯t spit or curse at Senfe. Didn¡¯t mutilate her body any further than nature had decided to. He did what Ta¡¯ were taught to do to all corpses; Ta¡¯K returned Senfe¡¯s body to Noctra. She was now a mound among piles of rubble and raised ground and as the land flattened once more she would be a part of it all.


    Beautiful¡­ when you can¡¯t see it at least.


    Ta¡¯K had drained himself of much of the energy absorbed essence had given him by creating the burial mound for Senfe by hand. No casting or magic to be had. He tried his best to think respectful things as he did so. To do it the proper way.


    She was obviously a great warrior. Sharp-witted. Treacherous bitch.


    Oh, well. He¡¯d tried.


    On his way back to their makeshift campsite Ta¡¯K continuously siphoned essence. He allowed himself to take in slightly larger amounts than before and the sickness from dealing with Senfe had faded a little by the time he saw Mezir sitting next to a fire. The big man¡¯s skin seemed to adopt a bit of the darkness around him and made much of him look like a shade from afar; Luna¡¯s nightly glow betrayed the visage, however, as it shined off of his right arms metal. Ta¡¯K didn¡¯t know why he felt the need to do so but he started to sneak, crouched low and paid close attention to where every footfall would be. What would have been a five-minute walk to Mezir ended up being a fifteen-minute journey through the underbrush and unseen places of the Wilders. When he finally made it close enough to clearly see Mezir in the light of his fire the man was just sitting there, staring into the flames.


    Much like myself most nights. He is distant. In the abyss of his own mind.


    Ta¡¯K didn¡¯t know if it would be a mercy to interrupt Mezir or if he should simply leave him be. Either way, Ta¡¯K would not be sleeping much. He decided to take his chance. Without a sound of warning or announcement of his arrival, Ta¡¯K stepped out from shrubs to Mezir¡¯s right and visibly jostled the man to attention.


    ¡°Ah, thought you to be one of the demons in my mind come to haunt me again.¡± Mezir smiled but it did nothing to his eyes which stayed dark, distant. ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Amberosin¡­ and Patri¡­¡± it wasn¡¯t clear if he was talking to Ta¡¯K or himself, likely both, ¡° I know you just met them but it was easy to see the connection ran- runs deep.¡±


    Ta¡¯K sat and placed a hand on Mezir¡¯s left arm and willed his words to the man¡¯s mind.


    We will get Amberosin back.


    Both men nodded at one another and Mezir gave a more sincere smile.


    ¡°Yes, I do believe we will. I¡¯ve concocted one hell of a crazy plan but we can talk of that in the morning.¡± Mezir stood and cracked his neck on both sides, stretched his arms high, then low, and took a straight stance. ¡°I¡¯ll be keeping guard for now though I am sure we will be safe tonight, my father likes to play his games. Killing us in our sleep would be far too simple for the likes of him. Enjoy the fire, Ta¡¯K. My friend.¡±


    Mezir gave a short bow and strode off in the direction of the clearing.


    Ta¡¯K stared at the flames for a moment hoping to enchant himself with a meditation he¡¯d done time and time again. It was no replacement for the rest and fortitude that came with a good night''s sleep but it was enough to keep him aware through the night and capable the next day. Korrin and Heria slept in small tents forged from large leaves and branches from about the forest floor at the fire''s edge. Lili-Bon was chained to the base of a massive wilderpalm on the other side. It was the most uncomfortable tree Ta¡¯K could find. He knew more than most that torture was about the little things.


    And he had no doubt there would be some of that in Lili-Bon¡¯s near future.


    And Amberosin¡¯s.


    Ta¡¯K shook the chill from his bones and pulled out a pipe he¡¯d chiseled from some wilderoak when he had first escaped the mines up north. He packed it full of giggleweed and smoked the whole bowl down while staring into the fire. Hoping for a vision. A revelation. Anything.


    All that he found was silence.

 Chapter Thirty-Five

    Korrin lay awake in her tent of leaves and sticks through the night.


    Not long ago she was complaining about sleeping out in the woods or on dirty streets while following Silent- Ah, uhm, Ta¡¯K- around all of Noctra¡­ but at least she had slept some then. Of course, then she had also thought she was in the company of her twin brother Jorrick, who in reality, was a few years younger than her. And dead. The depressing sanity that came with her newfound lucidity kept sleep far out of reach. Korrin was sure the bedding wouldn¡¯t have changed that a bit; be it feathered pillows or pointed sticks and blades of massive grass.


    Heria started snoring halfway through the night and Korrin was glad for it. Her friend needed it. They all did honestly, though she figured Heria would need it a little more than the others after tearing such a large chasm in Noctra¡¯s face while fighting Senfe. Mezir had split an entire cliff in half but there was a distinct feeling in the air that events like that may not be uncommon for the man. He hadn¡¯t even glanced back at the debris. Lesser men would have bragged about it to dawn¡¯s first light and beyond; Mezir never said a word about it.


    Korrin refused to close her eyes at any point in the night for fear of finding more truths about herself than she could handle. She was already facing the fact that the one man she¡¯d trusted with her life had slaughtered her entire family. Worse, even, was that White had somehow planted a different reality in place of the truth. A reality Korrin¡¯s mind had accepted without question. Thousands of times she¡¯d lifted her eyepatch to stare at a haunting void in her face but suddenly she knew, she could feel, the left eye was there. It had always been. Jorrick, on the other hand, never existed and Korrin held onto years'' worth of memories learning, eating, fighting, struggling viciously with Jorrick by her side. His company became less and less pleasing as time went on but they were siblings, some distancing was to be expected; it was natural. Except it wasn¡¯t natural, evidently. On the contrary more and more of Korrin¡¯s life had turned out to be exceedingly unnatural. And not at all for any reasons she would ever have guessed.


    She reflected on her time at White¡¯s estate searching for all the signs she surely missed before. Knowing what she did now, Korrin felt like an absolute idiot for never noticing something beforehand.


    We were tutored in private. Korin and Jorrick never saw one of their tutors for longer than a month at a time. We were trained in private. White handled all of their combat training himself. Our missions were always as a team. Always. She had often wondered why White sent Jorrick along on some of their more delicate missions. He¡¯d been effectively useless if there wasn¡¯t someone to fight. Entirely useless because he wasn¡¯t there. He was never there¡­ Every time Lord White had sent Jorrick out to kill some poor noble Lord or Lady for their slights against him, it had been Korrin who held the blade. She remembered each assassination. Jorrick had been silent, precise, clean; in and out without so much as a sound or disturbance. They all took a matter of minutes.


    Korrin remembered each and every tortured merchant or Indentured who swore for hours on end that they just didn¡¯t know anything about the Nomads, the Dwellers, or whoever else White was looking for at the time. Jorrick put them all down without hesitation and fed them to the seas like sick livestock. Korrin had watched from afar, she¡¯d thought, disgusted at how much her brother seemed to be enjoying himself.


    But it was Korrin. It had all been her. It wasn¡¯t even hard for her brain to place Korrin in place of Jorrick- she instantly saw things from her own perspective when she thought about it because it had always been her. The tally of bodies under her alone was staggering, adding the number of people ¡®Jorrick¡¯ had murdered in cold blood¡­ the thought was damn near unbearable. She¡¯d always told herself she was doing work for Lord White, for the better of Blancana, of all Noctra, because she believed White¡¯s lies.


    But.. didn¡¯t some part of me know? Didn¡¯t some part of me¡­ like it?


    Korrin sighed heavily with relief when dawn broke through the Wilder¡¯s lush canopy and hit her dry, tired eyes. With the morning there came things to get done, others to worry about. Distractions that she desperately needed to keep her mind off of herself. Ta¡¯K was sitting at a dwindling fire when she rolled out of her tent, a newly packed bowl of some sour-smelling herb smoking from his pipe. The sizable pile of ash at his feet told Korrin he¡¯d been there for a while.


    Guess I wasn¡¯t the only one who couldn¡¯t sleep.


    Korrin wondered if Ta¡¯K¡¯s conscience was as guilty as her own but for obvious reasons, she couldn¡¯t read the man. When he realized she was getting up, stretching tall as she did every morning, Ta¡¯K gave her a quick nod of his head and turned around, facing towards the clearing. Korrin had been confused by his actions at first but upon looking down she realized her own thin garments had done little to hide how cold she was in the dawn¡¯s cool breeze. She blushed and cleared her throat.


    ¡°Uhm. Thank you, Ta¡¯K.¡±


    He held up his left forearm and waved it back and forth. Nothing to thank me for. His voice resounded in her head as if it were her own. It was jarring but not entirely uncomfortable.


    Korrin threw on multiple layers of thin black cloth cut into triangular sections. At any given time the garb allowed for her to effectively disappear into any shaded area if she kept herself moving fluidly enough. Just then, however, she realized how much like odor and death it all smelled. A pungent reminder of what she had been doing as Korrin and Jorrick for the past year. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°Uh¡­ Ta¡¯K. I¡­ I need to tell you something. I know that I¡¯ve been under m- Lord White¡¯s influence for some time now, evidently, my entire life. I don¡¯t know who I really am or what I really feel¡­ but¡­ the past year I was¡­¡±


    Spying on you from afar like some forlorn lover? Don¡¯t worry about it.


    It was her voice again but not her own thoughts. Pretty damn near close to what she was going to say though. Korrin blanched at the thought that his ¡°mind speak¡± might go both ways.


    ¡°Have you been-¡±


    Reading your mind? No, no, no Korrin. That would be extremely invasive, I would never! Ta¡¯K¡¯s forearms moved around wildly as he swatted the accusation away, his framework hands held his pipe to his mouth all the while.


    ¡°Oh Cret¡¯s bollocks. That would have been a dismal revelation.¡± She¡¯d unabashedly done her fair share ogling the man in his tight wrappings when she thought he couldn¡¯t see her.


    I would never! On an entirely unrelated note¡­. Her own non-voice echoed throughout Korrin¡¯s head as Ta¡¯K turned towards her and leaned in, ¡°... I don¡¯t think you smell that bad.¡±


    Korrin laughed so hard that she started to cry.


    ¡°You- you bastard!¡± She fell to the ground laughing, holding her guts.


    Something she couldn¡¯t remember ever doing as Korrin or Jorrick.


    ***


    Heria crawled out of her tent to the sound of Korrin tearing her guts in two with a bout of voracious laughter. It was the most sincere sound Heria had ever heard the woman make. She rubbed the back of her fur-covered, leathery hand on her eyes trying to dispel the sleep that still clung to them.


    ¡°What in the name of all the Legends did I miss?¡± Mezir appeared to be returning from the clearing.


    Did no one else sleep last night? Heria felt more than a little embarrassed that she may have been the only one to sleep. I hope I didn¡¯t snore too loud. Ever since her forced ¡®metamorphoses¡¯ at the hands of Lord White she always had an issue with sleeping too loudly for others'' content. It was the main reason Mez- Ragoth¡­ supposedly, the main reason Ragoth had moved Heria out of the barracks and into her own private room. ¡°Too many complaints.¡± He¡¯d said. Heria figured it was all bullshit. Like everything else he said. She knew it wasn¡¯t his fault. She was still pissed.


    ¡°Your bet is as good as mine, uh..¡± Heria craned her neck upwards and shot Mezir an inquisitive look,¡± Sir?¡±


    ¡°Hm¡­ I don''t know about ¡®Sir¡¯. Feels a bit¡­ stuffy. How about we stick to Mezir, for now.¡± He smiled at Heria and she saw his eyes shining, focused directly on her without an ounce of pity or disgust.


    How does he do that? ¡°Sounds good, Mezir.¡±


    Korrin was still on the ground catching her breath, wiping tears that were likely part joy, part despair, and part insanity, but she held up a finger high in the air. Everyone waited for her to pull herself together. Heria couldn¡¯t stop smiling at her beautiful friend. I¡¯ve never seen such a big smile on her face before. Ironic, isn¡¯t it? The things that make us happy. When they make us happy. Always so¡­ unexpected.


    ¡°This bandaged fu- Ahm, excuse me- Ta¡¯K¡± she pointed to the wrapped man smoking his pipe who bowed towards her,¡± no problem.¡± No problem? Who is she talking to? ¡°Anyway, Ta¡¯K here can not only speak to us in our minds but evidently can read them as well. Just to forewarn you if you have any¡­ nasty thoughts about him. Or yourself.¡± Korrin blushed with a smirk and dusted off her black bottoms.


    Mezir burst into his own fit of laughter loud enough that the trees passed it about for what sounded like miles before it finally died out. It did wonders for Heria¡¯s spirit. Kept her mind in the present, off of Rago-


    ¡°Ah! Mindspeak¡­ yes, it can be quite the invasive thing...¡± Mezir gave Ta¡¯K a whimsical eyebrow, a high contrast to the low sagging bags beneath his eyes, ¡°... in the wrong hands, of course. I do believe we should all be safe with Ta¡¯K. Despite recent actions, I do believe he is still a rather peaceful bo- Uhm, young man. Trustworthy.¡±


    ¡°Korrin laughed and nodded her head in agreement. ¡°Yes, I do not think we have much to fear from this one.¡±


    ¡°Wait.¡± Heria realized then that she hadn¡¯t had any communication with Ta¡¯K outside of the memories and feelings they¡¯d all shared the night before, which she wasn¡¯t sure she¡¯d quite recovered from. ¡° What in all the hells does he sound like?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm... ¡° Mezir thought for a moment before he looked at Ta¡¯K, ¡°Say something.¡± A short pause before his face lit up,¡± Ah! He sounds like he did as a child in my mind, I suppose because that is the one time I ever heard him speak.¡± Mezir came and sat by their dying fire. ¡°Seems so long ago now, yeah?¡±


    Ta¡¯K nodded slowly and took a fierce drag off of his pipe.


    ¡°I heard him like he was me, but¡­ different?¡± Korrin came beside Heria and squatted.


    Ta¡¯K looked to Heria. I am sorry for what was done to you. Even I cannot understand such pain. It sounded just like Ragoth. Her shock must have been evident for he held his framework hands out, shaking them, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry Heria. I thought his voice might¡­ this time it was Helena¡¯s soft tone.


    ¡°No. No, it was very kind. Just¡­ surprising. Let''s stick with that one for now though, okay?¡± Hearing her old voice was somehow comforting to Heria.


    After a few more brief moments of levity, tension fell over them all with an awkward silence that made Heria sweat.


    ¡°So, I guess now is as good a time as any. Who''s ready to hear the plan?¡±


    Heria, Korrin, and Ta¡¯K nodded together. Eyes on Mezir. Heria wasn¡¯t even sure Lili-Bon was still asleep but the young woman laid on the ground, face down, taking deep breaths in and out. She felt bad for her. Longed to comfort the sweet Lili-Bon she had known for so long. Lili-Bon who confided in her without any reservations.


    Lili-Bon who stabbed Mezir and foiled Ragoth¡¯s plans to escape. Lili-Bon who caused Ragoth¡¯s capture. Lili-Bon the traitous-


    ¡°Son of a bitch. You¡¯re all looking at me? I thought maybe you all would have some suggestions. I mean, my last rebellion did end with a terrible failure.¡±


    Mezir had a good point.

 Chapter Thirty-Six

    Chapter Thirty-Six


    Ragoth was surrounded by freezing air coupled with intrepid darkness. At first, he was certain he¡¯d crossed over into an afterworld of some sort, but he soon decided that his body felt far too sore for that to be the case. Then he thought, maybe I¡¯m blind now¡­ though he swore there was movement flickering at the edges of his vision. Swirling shadows that whooshed every so often.


    Shit. I¡¯m still here. Still with that naked devil Marina.


    He didn¡¯t try to stand, Ragoth had suffered enough injuries over the years to know his own limits, and he knew there was no need to raise his downcast head or voice either. She would hear him. This is her world. ¡°Marina.¡± Ragoth¡¯s voice was much more even than he thought it would be, gaping wound in his back and all, ¡° I know you are here. I can hear when you move¡­ I think.¡± A soft giggle rippled through the shadows, riding every rise and fall of their weightless dance. Much like everyone else, Marina seemed to find his meekness entertaining to some degree and while it didn¡¯t bring Ragoth any great joy that she mocked him so freely, it did give him a morsel of hope. He had been mocked and pitied enough across his lifetime to know how such things could be used to his advantage. He started counting while Marina¡¯s ethereal laugh receded.


    One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine¡­. Ragoth stopped at one-hundred-and-eighty. That¡¯s...Three minutes! I¡¯m pretty sure¡­ yeah, sixty times three is .¡­ Uhm, but three minutes from where? He really missed his mask. Mezir¡¯s mask. Though he¡¯d used it for a decade he knew deep down that it would never belong to him. Where Ragoth relied on it as a handicap to get him out of tense situations, Mezir commanded it to do his bidding like an enchanted servant. Doesn¡¯t matter now, does it?


    ¡°Marina?¡± she stayed silent but he was sure the woman was still there. ¡°Marina¡­ what is this place?¡± Nothing.


    Guess I need to sound weaker, more afraid, if I am to get a laugh out of this one.  Ragoth tried to spy any stray pieces of light or shadow that may just look off but the black around him seemed nearly absolute. Nearly. He didn¡¯t know what it could possibly be but there had to be some minuscule source of light around for him to see shadows swirl, didn¡¯t there? The infinite black was devoid of all light¡­ but the shadowy waves were almost grey to his eyes after a few moments. They were adjusting to something. Slowly. Ragoth wasn¡¯t much of talent with casting essence but he knew how to do small, subtle things. Like siphoning light from around him and storing it in his iris.


    ¡°Marina, please!¡± Ragoth made sure it sounded more like a vagrant''s begging than a pseudo-nobles demand. ¡°Just tell me what is going on here. Why¡­ why keep me alive?¡± His voice faded with an entirely sincere sadness. There you go, feel it Ragoth. Don¡¯t fake it. Be it.


    ¡°Hm¡­ honestly?¡± Marina¡¯s voice carried around him like silken waves, all at once on his left and right, simultaneously behind and ahead of him. She was everywhere. ¡°I¡¯m not quite sure what father hopes to achieve, never really have been before either, but with you, it''s even more perplexing. You¡¯re fairly....¡± Pathetic? Weak? Shattered? All true¡­ ¡°average? At least, for the time being. Father doesn¡¯t keep weaklings around, no matter how adorable.¡±


    ¡°As a man of some repute, I¡¯m not sure whether to be more offended by the term ¡®average¡¯ or ¡®adorable¡¯ when it comes from a woman, especially one whos as naked as a newborn.¡± Shit. Ragoth doesn¡¯t charm or joke. He wallows. He- I- do not flirt with death. Ever. He grabbed aimlessly at a phrase that would slip back his unseen mask and make him appear weaker, but at the moment it felt as if Ragoth were peeling the very skin off of his face. Ragoth¡¯s confidence was building too quickly as the dark world around him slowly became visible. The essence of light stoked his hopes. He¡¯d always been horrible at casting because essence affected his emotions so strongly, as it did most novices, but he could do little to curve it aside from releasing the light. Ragoth had built up too much for that now. He held it in his eyes, despite how badly it burned. It was too late. ¡°Especially one as lovely as you, Marina.¡±


    She was there not five steps away from him, smiling with teeth bared and cheeks high. No shadows obscured her figure from Ragoth now and despite the burgeoning pain in the wound on his back bleedingly so freely, his body betrayed his circumstances. Marina laughed and grinned ever harder. With an ever clearing sight, Ragoth was able to appreciate every dip, dimple, bump, and crevice of Marina¡¯s carnelian skin, which he noticed with agitated interest, seemed to have a distinct bronze tone in some places.


    Crets, Ragoth. Keep your head about you. Filthy scoundrel.


    He pushed up from the ground, expecting a stabbing pain to charge through his body from the hole on his back, but no groan or cry moved up Ragoth¡¯s being. In fact, he felt excessively well. Why am I smiling?


    Marina chuckled and stepped close enough to him that he could feel her breathing. Not just from the warm air escaping her lips. ¡°Do you feel it?¡± Yes. It is quite a hard spot on such a soft mound. Ragoth gulped. For some reason, he wanted to pounce Marina, her transgressions, and hand in his current misery be damned- He needed release. ¡°Ha! You do¡­ you tried to suck in light, yes? I did the same, long, long ago. The funny thing about essence though¡­ it creates its own kind of light¡­. No matter what you¡¯re casting. Even, shadows, per se?¡± She smiled with her lips pressed to Ragoth¡¯s cheeks. When had she slipped off his armor? What was she just saying? ¡°Oh.. too distracted to think about it, huh?¡± Marina¡¯s hand slipped onto the small of his back and slowly trailed up, grazing where she had run him through with the obsidian dagger. Ragoth braced, winced, but for no reason. The wound was closed. Numbed and scarred. ¡°See¡­ you tried to grab the light¡­ but you grabbed it all¡­¡± Marina did quite the same with Ragoth¡¯s apparent excitement, ¡° And the shadows have already started to care for you, to heal you. To consume you.¡± She slid down his body as she spoke. Was I wearing my armor, to begin with? ¡°So, Ragoth, tell me. What do you think this place is?¡±


    Whether it was because of the influence of the shadows or Marina consuming him Ragoth could only laugh out one quick word-


    ¡°Paradise.¡±


    ***Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Amberosin¡¯s mother used to put her through training that Amberosin had always seen as cruel and highly unusual. There was sparring, which she loved despite her mother¡¯s undefeated streak. There was reading, which she hated at the time but had been thankful for more than once over the years. And then there were the¡­ less conventional methods. Once a month Amberosin¡¯s mother, Alicena, would take her to a cellar in the middle of the Wilders. Apparently, some apothecary or another had stored his valuables in it in days long before Amberosin was even a thought in her mother¡¯s mind and when he had abandoned it Alicena had gladly taken it for herself.


    Remnants of neglected objects told Amberosin that her mother had adopted the cellar to a multitude of uses of the years but the young girl would only ever know it for its one purpose. She remembered vividly the day Alicena had walked her to the cellar for the first time. Told her the test was to go inside and come out with some obscure spice for dinner that night. As soon as Amberosin had entered the dusty, cramped space, Alicena had closed and bolted the door behind her.


    ¡°When I come back I want you to tell me how long it''s been. If you get it right, you get out. If you¡¯re wrong, you stay inside until I come back again. Don¡¯t forget the spice either.¡±


    With that, she had left. Amberosin could hear her footsteps crunching leaves and sticks as she walked away, back towards their troupe. Amberosin was six at the time. She had screamed and cried, not bothered to count at all. She was too terrified and enraged to give a damn what her mother wanted her to do, she wanted out. Young Amberosin had scrambled around in the dark until she found a metal pole of some sort, wrapped her small hands about it, and bashed the door to the cellar off of its hinges. By the time she crawled out of a small hole in the old, splintered wood, her hands were blistered and bleeding. Her mother came back a few hours after that and found Amberosin cradling her hands, sobbing on the ground.


    ¡°Oh. Oh, dear girl. Come here. We need to clean those, okay?¡± Alicena scooped Amberosin up and ran them back to their small shack where she applied ointments and oils to her hands, silent all the while. She didn¡¯t seem upset to Amberosin. The young girl thought that her mother even seemed to be proud of her figuring out a solution not previously offered. Alicena was, as she would tell Amberosin much later, very proud of the young girl. The next month the cellar had a new, thicker door. Same test as before. There was nothing inside anymore.


    Everyone had thought it cruel. Evil, even, to put such a young Nomad through something so heinous. Crouched, chained in the dark of some small stone room with no indication of time or place, Amberosin had never been more thankful for her mother. She¡¯d eventually learned how to count out and keep track of the minutes that passed, up to a few hours at least. With the help of some soft dirt below her, she had scraped every minute into the floor. The room she was in now, however, had no dirt. It had nothing. It was dark, not pitch black, but darker than a normal day''s light.


    White had taken her from the clearing at sometime closer to midday than night and so far as she could tell he had put her in the dark stone room immediately. She¡¯d passed out during their trip, likely thanks to White himself, and when she awoke her goggles were gone. Everything else was present, even her pack of food. Amberosin had been able to pinpoint midday again at least five times before she ever saw or heard another person. For five days, she simply sat in the dark. The chains were too tight and strong to break or break free of. She¡¯d bled plenty on the fourth figuring that out. She was sure she¡¯d die from infection soon enough but as luck would have it on the sixth day a hole the size of a threshold appeared in the wall furthest from her.


    Light shone from whatever was beyond the hidden doorway and her pupils screamed in pain. The shock of having light hit them uninterrupted for the first time in her life felt like someone had shoved a searing prodding stick into her sockets. She cast her face to the ground and clenched them shut.


    ¡°Oh, oh dear child I do apologize. I¡¯ll have the lights outside your chambers dimmed, yes?¡± She recognized the voice. Lord White. He stopped somewhere inside the room and closed the door, bringing back the blessed dimness of her.. Chambers?


    Amberosin rose her head and gently spread her lashes apart, letting what little light was there seep into her, rather than assault her all at once. With the door closed, she was able to see the small light cast by some shaded windows again but the sight was clearer to her then. Her sense awakened by the exposure. Amberosin could see clearly that she was in no small, stone room. She was in a gigantic bed-chamber made of marble and stone. About her hand''s chains fell simultaneously and rang out across the floor.


    ¡°Amberosin?¡± White stayed more than a few steps back.


    Coward. She simply looked at him. Didn¡¯t offer any indication of her feelings. Her stomach, however, decided to make an unseemly announcement of how it felt. She was hungry, starving, as she feared they may have poisoned her food. A ridiculous thought, she¡¯d admitted, because they¡¯d kept her alive¡­ still, she decided not to chance it.


    ¡°Ha! Figured you¡¯d be starving by now, probably thought we poisoned your food eh?¡±


    What? How did-


    ¡°No worries. I¡¯ve had a full course meal prepared and it will be brought to us, so as to keep your eyes in good health. It will take some time for you to be able to go without them, you know. I¡¯d heard your mother was barbaric towards you at points but the goggles were just-¡±


    Ambersoin moved before the thought had even formulated and taken a strong swing at White¡¯s masked face. She connected, heard a pop, felt a crack in her knuckles, and fell to the floor in front of him. Obviously unfazed, White continued, ¡°Though I do suppose as your father, I must shoulder some of the blame¡­ so I am! This room will incrementally let in more light each day until you can handle a full Noctran day with no goggles! Ha! You¡¯ll see the world without that blasted tint over your eyes and we shall all be able to see your gorgeous face!¡±


    She shook on the ground, her hand bleedingly freely at White¡¯s feet. Miraculously all of the blood pooling on the floor seems to purposely avoid the man¡¯s armored shoes. He dropped down to Amberosin¡¯s level and grabbed her bleeding hand, blood falling off of his immaculate gloves like red waterfalls down a cliffside, and cupped it gently. After a quick flash of blue light, the throbbing in her knuckles stopped. All the blood on her hand and White¡¯s gloves evaporated upwards into nothingness, and that which was on the floor followed suit.


    ¡°Better?¡±


    ¡°Y.. yes. Thank you.¡± What the fuck is going on here?


    ¡°Probably wondering ¡®what the fuck is going on here?¡¯ right?¡±


    Stop that. Fucking monster.


    White chuckled as if he had heard her thought once more and was amused at her veracity. ¡°Well, if you¡¯d like to know, we shall discuss it over dinner.¡± Indentured were already filling the room setting up some massive table in the middle of her massive room. One stood in front of the open door with a black cloth the entire time. By the time their food was set Amberosin¡¯s stomach was ravenous. She didn¡¯t even wait for the room to clear before she started eating. White simply watched her for a moment before he sat across the table.


    ¡°Can you tell me how long you¡¯ve been here?¡±


    She didn¡¯t stop eating, just held up a hand with five fingers extended on the hand that had been shattered moments ago, closed a fist, and opened it up with a single finger out. Not her index, as one would usually count with.


    ¡°Damn good guess there.¡±


    Not a guess.


    ¡°Though, probably not a guess. I¡¯m sure your brilliant mother devised all kinds of things like this to train you for, and she was brilliant, I meant no disrespect before. I have surely done worse things to my own children.¡± He had. He listed all of them.


    His starkness, his nonchalant tone as he talked about maiming, killing, breaking his children so he could mold them to his liking, caught her off guard. Ambersoin stopped eating with food still hanging from her mouth and listened intently. She kept every detail in her mind because she knew, whether she really was his daughter or not, that she too would be suffering soon, as all of White¡¯s children.


    He was going to try and bend Amberosin to his whim as well. She could see it suddenly. His kindness only after such abuse¡­ his giggles and chuckles that calmed the tension¡­ the food, the lavish room¡­. He was going to buy her and break her. Just like with everyone else.


    ¡°So, you see, I am a man of many mistakes myself. Though, I do believe in forgiveness. Do you, my dear daughter?¡±


    Amberosin looked at him solemnly for a moment. Let her eyes appear sincere. Leaned in closer to Lord White, waited for him to do the same¡­


    And spit a mouthful of noodles and meat in his masked face.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven

    Lil-Bon feigned sleep throughout Mezir and the other¡¯s discussion. She kept her breathing steady, face hidden, body loose, but unmoving. By the time Mezir had completed the circle about their dying fire and professed he had no semblance of a plan she was already getting antsy. She usually woke up well before dawn, went on her first walk of the day with two ever-faithful guards by her side. Two guards she figured were laying dead in an alley somewhere. After a good hour holding her facade with the grandest of will power, Lili-Bon was left utterly confused. And with a bladder on the brink of betrayal.


    The group had scarcely spoken of a plan at all. In fact, they¡¯d spent a good chunk of time simply laughing at jokes she obviously did not understand. She was used to being left out of jokes, though Lili could at least piece together what was supposed to be funny. Usually. Korrin, Heria, Mezir- even the man who didn¡¯t speak seemed to be laughing at¡­ well, nothing!


    Nothing at all! And people have the nerve to call me simple! ¡®Simple-Lil¡¯... simple- Oh.


    Lili-Bon felt like the lowest, simplest notch on the social post when she realized what was happening. Three of them were speaking in fragmented sentences and multiple times Mezir had referred to the silent man as ¡°Ta¡¯K¡± in his response to the group''s incoherent babbling. Specifically in response to him. Since the man did not speak and she¡¯d not heard his metal hands moving around in signs of any sort she had to assume the most illogical situation she could have imagined.


    Their minds are linked? He¡¯s speaking to them and letting them speak to each other? Unbelievable. She could only assume they did so in the event that their prisoner, her, was actually awake. Since Lili was actually awake it seemed entirely logical from the group''s perspective but so far as she knew it should have been impossible. White¡¯s academy teachings strictly forbade the linking of minds due to supposedly fatal factors which ¡°no caster could avoid¡±. Something to do with corrupting your own unique essence. Lili-Bon was scolded severely when she asked one instructor what the difference was between mind links and the comms guards used.


    These people seemed fine though. Damn them. Lili-Bon didn¡¯t want to give them the satisfaction of being correct and seemingly divine but her body was beginning to rebel. Both of her legs were numb from inactivity and Lili was certain that she would be pissing down her legs if she didn¡¯t relieve herself immediately.


    Lili didn¡¯t even lift her face from the ground. ¡°I need to pee.¡±


    The group fell silent all at once and Lili-Bon struggled not to look up at them. She didn¡¯t think she could bear it. Her emotions had finally calmed after casting for the first time, returned to their rightful place locked up somewhere deep inside. Logic itself was taking the forefront in her mind once more. After a moment she heard heavy footsteps and felt a large, leathery hand on her shoulder.


    Heria. Thank the Lords.


    She was happy to have Heria as her escort for two important reasons. One, she definitely did not want a man helping her to remove the multilayered straps and buttons of her garments with her hands tied by a chain, for the obvious discomforts. Two, Lili-Bon knew Heria and they got along well. Lili was desperate for her delicate friendship with Heria to sway the woman in her favor, though Lili wanted to make sure to take care of her other necessary business before initiating any conversation. Her hands being tied behind her back meant Heria was going to be very involved in that process.


    ¡°Uhm.. can you help me? My clothes are... specially made. Very hard to remove without hands.¡± Lili looked down, blushed against her own will, and gratefully used the opportunity to appear even more vulnerable as she shook her limp hands. They¡¯d fallen asleep hours ago, hardy even hurt anymore.


    ¡°Ri- right. Sorry, Lili-Bon.¡± Heria came forward slowly and kneeled before Lili.


    For what, the chains? No worries. You fuck. ¡°Oh, no, truly, I¡¯m sorry. For¡­¡± She paused not just for effect but also because she couldn¡¯t find the words; Lili had done nothing to wrong Heria. All she had done was strike Mezir and run. ¡°For the loss of your friend- Ragoth, was it?¡± The imposter under Mezir¡¯s mask. She was going to have to ask White about that later. If she got the chance. ¡°I¡¯m not sure what is really going on right now,¡± aside from the fact that you¡¯ve abducted me, ¡°but I never wanted to see you hurt.¡±


    That last bit was true, actually.


    ¡°Thank you, Lili. Now let''s get your-¡±


    Heria¡¯s gruff voice stopped dead when she saw that task that lay before her. Lili¡¯s undergarments were of her own design; thigh length, thin, flexible, white cotton was held against her body by six leather straps dyed gold. Each strap was barely two inches wide and had two buckles each. The design was originally intended to appease Lili¡¯s need for repetition and order, though, it also allowed Lili-Bon ample time to make Heria feel as awkward as possible. The woman¡¯s large, animalistic fingers fumbled for at least three minutes straight with the delicate straps made for Lili-Bon¡¯s own nimble hands.


    As soon as the garments fell to the ground Lili-Bon took a few steps over and immediately released a heavy stream that was steaming as it tore through the morning chill. Heria held Lili-Bons'' frilled uniform skirt up and out of the way. Gratefully, she kept her head turned until the splashing at their feet ceased, saving Lili any actual embarrassment. Everyone assumed the ¡®ever-honest, simple Lil¡¯ was bashful, shy, untouched. Truth was, she was just discreet. A sneaky little liar who folded to the whim of logic and logic alone- and loved a good romp. Only in the dark though, mind you.


    ¡°Heria? Could you grab my¡­¡± Lili let the question trail and turned her head away from the Alta woman. Playing the bashful little Lili-Bon that she was sure Heria perceived. There was a clearing to the right, just large enough that she could slip through and disappear. The Wilders were winding forests that could swallow Lili whole. They were also Lili-Bon¡¯s only hope of getting home.


    ¡°Yes, Lad- Uhm, Lili-Bon. Sorry.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Just a little smile.


    Heria released the hem of Lili¡¯s skirt and held her massive hands on the little woman¡¯s waist, helping to guide Lili away from her miniature lake of urine. When Heria released her waist and turned to grab Lili¡¯s undergarments she noticed they were dangerously close to a thicket of thorn ridden vines spotted with yellow blooms. She took her chance. One swift, not at all hard enough kick, planted square on Heria¡¯s buttocks. The impact barely nudged her into the thorns and sent Lili sprawling to the ground. Branches, leaves, plants, and insects- she hated bugs to a deathly degree- met Lili¡¯s bare bottom. She squeaked.


    Crete Da Tore¡­.


    Squeaked. Some great escape- Simple Lil. Such an embarrassment.


    A flux of emotions struck her all at once, a gale of feelings she¡¯d rather not have- that she was sure she¡¯d never had before. Lili-Bon knew sadness so grand it kept her bedridden and unable to function some days, casting her mind astray with worries and qualms that were entirely illogical. She¡¯d accompanied that damp dark depression for so long and suffered horribly for it, so eventually, she¡¯d decided it better to survive in apathy. Apathy was her solace and logic her god. Lili didn¡¯t want the emotions. She despised them. And yes, she noted the irony- but she couldn¡¯t care- refused to care!


    You are not mine! Out with you!-


    ¡°Out!¡±


    Lili didn¡¯t mean for the word to escape her mind, though it came out with instinctual ease; louder than she¡¯d ever spoken, however, not strained or afflicted by any emotion. The insufferable gale of feeling rode out of Lili¡¯s body with the little word, one simple command, and slammed into Heria with a visible heft. Heria lifted from the ground and flew a few gracious feet into the thicket of thorns. Lili-Bon wasn¡¯t stunned or confused, she was devoid of all concern. She was at her best.


    Regardless of having nothing on beneath her skirt, she ran straight for the small clearing to her right. It was lined with odd trees that seemed to be growing entirely upside down. Their bark stretched off in thin, leaf-like appendages, but there was no green anywhere to be seen about its massive trunk. Each bark leaf had a sharp tip with colors spiraling down that changed from a root-like white to an off-putting hue of blue. Lili did not stop to gawk or gape at them, to marvel at the essence running through them- she was more concerned about the essence that had coursed through her. That sent Heria flying away. And it had been essence. She was sure of it. She couldn¡¯t see her own face but she knew if there happened to be any reflective surface around she would find the area around her mouth entirely aglow. The tree''s appearance was of no concern to Lili, she simply hoped they would slow Heria. She only needed a small advantage, then she could get home.


    Then she could get back to Lord White.


    Lili had no idea what all of this meant for the Crucible and her advancement as a White¡¯s guard but her Lord would know. He knew everything. It was White who had told her about looking into the estate''s architecture throughout the ages and exposed to Lili an entirely new world. All of Blancana was riddled with secret tunnels, passages, crevices- all of which somehow connected to White¡¯s estate directly. She knew there should be a passage to the estate somewhere along the border wall, she¡¯d seen the day the logs were updated. Lili figured it must be nearer than further given where they¡¯d run from. It had to be.


    Two¡­ one¡­. Two¡­ one¡­ two¡­ o- She kept her breathing even as she ran. Lili-Bon expected it may be quite the sprint to her destination. Two¡­.one¡­..two¡­.one¡­.two...o-


    Lili-Bon heard a deafening crack from her left. She tried to look and see the source but everything went dark. Some creature was braying or screaming, in the distance.


    She could hear a stream nearby.


    ***


    Korrin was elated, gleefully struggling for breath between wheezing laughs. She¡¯d only just came to check on Heria when she saw her flying backward, flailing like a sail torn asunder. It was just like Ta¡¯K showed them during their little circle meeting, which she¡¯d chuckled at fairly profusely, but it didn¡¯t curb any of the humor for Korrin. Especially considering the vision he shared didn¡¯t show Heria with her ass pointing straight towards the sky and head in a narrow burrow. Yet, here she was. Exactly as such.


    And Korrin could do nothing to stop herself from bursting like a strained dam that suffered its last crack. After everything Korrin had discovered about herself over the previous days, she felt like cracking and bursting were very apt metaphors for the flood of laughter and hideous joy that escaped her person. Even as Heria removed her head from the burrow, with an audible pop of escaping air, and rose ripping thorns from various places about her body, Korrin was crying. One hand slamming down onto her knee repeatedly. Her stub of an arm waved without a hint of sense. Heria scowled through a tiara of layered dirt that swam with tiny writhing worms and beetles freely falling off onto the woman¡¯s large shoulders.


    Korrin stopped cold when she saw Heria¡¯s face through her tears. Korrin had seen the eyes of animals and killers far greater than she had ever realized and just for a moment, a split-second at the start of a breath, Korrin saw the look in Heria. As soon as it had appeared, it was gone. The Alta woman smiled and began laughing with Korrin as she stepped out from the thorny thicket. Her laugh was sincere so far as Korrin could tell but it did nothing to change how unnerving the transition from murderous to joyful was. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Is it just because of how she looks? Was it just plain ole fashioned embarrassment that I saw?


    Korrin didn¡¯t have much experience with Altas outside of Heria and as she recently learned, that term didn¡¯t exactly explain what or who Heria was. Heria, a long time friend and confidant, suddenly became a stranger who she knew absolutely nothing about. To be fair though, she didn¡¯t much know herself either as it turned out.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Heria''s laugh was fading out as she turned her head in a quizzical slant, ¡°You look like you¡¯re the one that got thrown on her ass.¡± She smiled and grimaced only when the tips of her teeth dug in above her upper lip.


    Come on Korrin, this is Heria. Snap out of it. I mean, look at her! She¡¯s gorgeous!


    ¡°Oh, sorry, nothing just¡­ shouldn¡¯t we get after her now?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Right¡­ Lili-Bon¡­ never would have thought she could cast or would cast, against me at least. We¡¯ve trained a lot together, ya know? Weak as shit in a fight but that brain of hers makes her terrifying. Now that she can cast¡­.¡±


    She''s a threat. Neither of them said it. It would make it too real. ¡°Right, which way?¡± Korrin smiled making sure to look directly into Heria¡¯s eyes. This is my friend. No matter our pasts, we move forward together. Heria is all I have.


    Korrin had to turn away to hide the tears in her eyes, feigning like she couldn¡¯t see the one obvious clearing in front of them or remember what Ta¡¯K had shown them. Heria would probably know it was for show, though it wasn¡¯t really for her sake, was it?


    ¡°There, Kori. Let me go first and I can push some of these spinimoro out of the way.¡± Heria¡¯s body was aglow in small patches of blue, underlit by a soft red when she walked ahead of Korrin, already healing herself and without so much as slowing.


    ¡°I bet you know the names of all the plants and animals and¡­ things out here, don¡¯t you?¡± Korrin poked fun at Heria for her immaculate wit all the time. Is that because I think she looks like she shouldn¡¯t have any wit? What kind of friend am I? What kind of person?


    ¡°Oh-ho, no. Definitely not all of them, I mean there are millions of species and subspecies and things we aren¡¯t even sure how to classify. All living on Noctra, together, connected by things as huge as entire regions and as minuscule as a blade of grass. Not even Argonia¡­¡± Heria went on a tangent about nature, history, and the greatest natural locales for each great nation as she used her massive, glowing arms to push against the spinomoro which promptly closed up their odd extended petals of multicolored bark and literally slid apart leaving the ground behind them as if they were never there. ¡°Heh, love these little fellas- all-male by the way, no female variation in their line- if you push em¡¯ the wrong way they spring their bark swatches into a rigid state, fairly gruesome defense honestly, but tickle them just right¡­¡± She squeaked as trees on either side of her slid back to safer zones away from the two travelers. The squeak was an odd sound coming from behind pointed teeth that muffled everything the woman said; Korrin relished it. She couldn¡¯t give a rat''s ass about any of the names or history but she always loved listening to Heria, to share in her passions for just a moment. It seemed to help calm Heria as well. Korrin could see the muscles in her back relaxing as she spoke.


    Do I have any passions left? No Jorrick¡­ No Lord¡­ No idea where I am going.


    Figuratively, at least. Literally, Heria and Korrin knew exactly where and how this small trek through the Wilders would end. Mezir had speculated that Lili-Bon was awake the whole time, as she seemingly was before stabbing him, and Ta¡¯K readily confirmed that she was indeed faking slumber. Poorly at that. Korrin wondered if the woman had ever seen another person sleep; they did move sometimes. From there as Mezir told them, as a disembodied voice inside their minds, what path Lili would likely take Ta¡¯K gave them visualizations. The images were amazingly close to real life, except for the eyes. Ta¡¯K had added a bit of flair around everyone''s eyes, saying it was better than the alternative. If their predictions were right, as they had been thus far to an almost terrifying degree, they would find Lili-Bon unconscious near a stream not too far past the clearing.


    From there, they would wait somewhere in the underbrush for the woman to wake up and make her next move. Ta¡¯K had guessed she would be out for at least two days.


    His guess had been spot on. Both women had sat in silence for a little while on the first day, each with their own revelations and nightmares to pick apart, but that night Heria broke the awkward quiet around them.


    ¡°I heard you apologize, to Ta¡¯K, I mean- I think¡­ I think that was the right thing to do. I think- no, I am positive, we are on the right side now, Kori. This is all confusing and scary as shit, but we¡¯ve always got each other, yeah?¡± Heria looked at Korrin with eyes pleading for an answer and she could hardly refuse her friend.


    ¡°Of course¡­ of course, Heria. But... I- I don¡¯t know who I am¡­ at all. Lord W- he broke me. Early. I may not be the easiest to get along with for a while to come.¡± Korrin smirked at her dear friend as they chuckled, remembering a time not long ago when they¡¯d fought about who was harder to deal with; Heria because of her appearance or Korrin because of her attitude. Out of love for one another, they¡¯d never decided.


    ¡°I know, Kori. I saw what¡­ what you saw, I think.¡± She stared at the ground for a moment in her own head before turning to Korrin, ¡°Isn¡¯t it weird how the truth just feels like the truth, like somehow¡­ we knew?¡± The woman stared intently into Korrin¡¯s eyes, pleading for an answer. Unfortunately, Heria had effectively read her mind and Korrin didn¡¯t know what else to say.


    So she just smiled and nodded. That was enough for Heria.


    Much of that first night was spent relating to one another, giving one another foundations to hold to once more. They trusted Mezir almost compulsively, as everyone seemed to, he¡¯d certainly proven himself to all of them in days past. Ta¡¯K seemed to be entirely honest, and without much of a filter, so they knew they could trust him as well¡­ but they still didn¡¯t know either man very well and it was nice to know they each had a trustworthy friend.


    Neither dared bring up what their trustworthy non-friends were up to, should Lili-Bon be awake and casting to hear their conversation. Entirely unlikely, but not impossible.


    Who would¡¯ve ever thought sweet Lili-Bon would end up being a serpent sleeping in the grass? ¡°World is a lot different when the veil has been lifted, huh?¡±


    After a few moments in silence, as night crept across the sky and brought out the starkly bright grey-blue rays of Luna¡¯s moonlight canopy Heria sighed and shook her head.


    ¡°Are we really here? Doing this? I mean¡­ I know everyone in that estate. I should feel bad for them¡­ but¡­ this is¡­¡±


    ¡°War.¡±


    Korrin laid on the ground with her head in Heria¡¯s lap.


    ¡°This is war, Heria. It''s always been war¡­ we just aren¡¯t addled pawns anymore.¡±


    ¡°Aren¡¯t we though? Aren¡¯t all soldiers pawns for greater men and their purposes?¡±


    ¡°Not if we are allowed to have our own ideas and beliefs. Not if we have some control over our choices. White never gives anyone a real choice, I can see that now, Heria. He finesses you into the path he wants to be taken¡­ or he forces it on you. And you never even know.¡±


    ¡°So..¡± Heria looked over to Lili-Bon¡¯s slumped shadow near the bank¡­ ¡°Some choice or no choice?¡±


    ¡°The lesser of two evils.¡±


    Korrin looked up to the night sky. Staring back at her was one huge moon with a crater pocked face and blue-grey light wrapped around it. Stark against an empty sky. There were two more moons up there, somewhere, but nothing else; aside from the supposed domain of ¡®The Creator¡¯, The Eye of All. A massive metal ball that had floated on high, remaining utterly useless since the dawn of Noctra. It was an ugly stain on a lonely vista¡­ but that night she didn¡¯t mind it. Not like when she had traveled with Jor¡­. traveled alone. No, that night she was glad to be there. Glad for the company.


    ¡°No¡­ No Kori. Not the lesser of two evils¡­ the greater of two great men, great leaders. Well, White¡¯s obviously not great, great, but¡­ ¡°Great¡±, ya know?¡±


    Korrin chuckled and turned her face to Heria¡¯s abdomen. ¡°Greater of two leaders... Two great men¡­two great evils, whatever.¡±


    Nothing to be done about it.


    Korrin nestled her head into Heria¡¯s warm lap and slept.


    ***


    ¡°Hey. Hey¡­ uh, you!¡±


    A sharp jab in his shoulder nearly made him shout. The injured one? Why the injured one? I have two shoulders! He would have yelled out in frustrated pain if a hand was not slapped over his mouth.


    ¡°Oh¡­ sorry, guess that¡¯s why you¡¯re in here¡­ right. Sorry. Would you believe I came by to check on you?¡± He recognized the voice but couldn¡¯t quite place the name, he was always better with faces, though was quite afraid to open his eyes. The past week had made him much warier of¡­ everyone. Everything. He decided to squint and peek through his lashes but this familiar stranger noticed immediately. ¡°Ah, shit. Do they have you that drugged up? Just for one measly little flesh wound? Hah!¡±


    Measly?! Flesh wound?! A hit from Lord White himself you heathen!


    Fledgling White¡¯s guard, Rhui Enchan, nearly sat up ready to savagely berate whatever stranger it was that had decided to take a midnight stroll specifically to mock and offend infirmary patients but as soon as his muscles tensed to rise an armored hand shoved Rhui against the uncomfortably all-metal cot. His left shoulder screamed as it pressed against an infallible cold; Rhui tried to do the same but the stranger''s armored hand didn¡¯t relent when he bucked up again.


    ¡°Just look at me, ya scolly.¡±


    Scolly? Who the hell says scolly? ¡°Fernwick?¡± Rhui¡¯s eyes shot open as the hand fell from his mouth.


    ¡°Yes! What a pleasure to have a pub mate who actually remembers your name¡­ uh¡±


    ¡°Rhui.¡±


    He smiled at the sea-worn madman he¡¯d met only days after his initiation into the guard. Couldn¡¯t have known him longer than a month or two now, maybe three, Rhui wasn¡¯t one for math and the like, but that didn¡¯t stop Rhui from enjoying the man¡¯s presence immensely. Admittedly it was mainly due to the fact that he appeared even more clueless than Rhui about all the etiquette and hierarchical social web of the guard.


    ¡°Rhui,¡± Fernwick backed away and gave a small bow, ¡°my apologies for poking your injured bit there¡­ and forgetting your name¡­ Uhm, pal.¡±


    He smirked as he stepped into the moonlight caught by nearby windows that extended from floor to ceiling. Sunspots littered Fernwick¡¯s face and broke his naturally red-dark face with lighter red-brown splotches. His hair was long, braided in massive ropes that hadn¡¯t been uncoiled or washed, in quite some time. Salt had wrinkled the skin around Fernwick¡¯s plain brown eyes and there was a permanent ruby raw mark on the top of his nose¡­ but Rhui could see an attractive man beneath years of abuse from the sea. With his nearly perfect smile and set of teeth Rhui figured Fernwick could be quite the bachelor in the next ten to twenty years if he cast enough essence to stay healthy¡­ well, enough to get healthy and hopefully stay that way.


    ¡°Not a problem, shift captain Fernwick. You don¡¯t bow to your subordinates, pal.¡± Rhui smiled and shifted on his cot, letting himself relax a little more. He¡¯d not known him long but he trusted Fernwick, albeit partially because the man was always either too drunk or too hungover to formulate a lie worth believing.


    ¡°Hah! That is what I am here to talk to you about, Rhui!¡± Fernwick put his own hand up to his lips and smiled. His whisper-yelling assaulted Rhui¡¯s nose with a huge waft of pure-black liquor. Might as well have dumped a gallon of one hundred proof spirits down his throat.


    Why does it burn so badly from so far away?


    Fernwick side stepped lightly to Rhui¡¯s cot and leaned in close. He hoped the tears burning in his eyes from the man¡¯s smell weren¡¯t too obvious, though that was about all he could do to stop them. Hope.


    ¡°Yo-ooo-ou,¡± blown directly in Rhui¡¯s face, ¡° Rhui, pal, have been promoted to honor...haunary¡­ honorary Serpint, second class, of course, first-class must always be earned through ¡°valor¡±... or a deep enough pocket¡­ or an in with the banks of Blancana..¡± Fernwick patted Rhui¡¯s good shoulder. Still too hard. Still hurt like hell. ¡°But you, dear friend, got in the old fashioned way! Surviving an ¡°accident¡± involving Lord White that he felt responsible for! Ha! What''s it they say about luck?¡±


    Rhui was still too stunned by the ex-seafarer¡¯s noxious breath. ¡°Wait¡­ what? Step back Fernwick! What did you just say?¡± He scooted to the middle of his cot and sat straight up staring directly at Fernwick.


    Fernwick stood taller for a second, stronger, more stable, but only for a brief second before he went back into his usual lazy swagger and snickered. ¡°Aye there Rhui, if ole Fernie is too much for you to handle, you¡¯ve just got to say so.¡± The man looked quite pleased with himself.


    Isn¡¯t that what I just did? ¡°Fernwick. Focus. What are you trying to tell me?¡±


    Rhui stared at the man as hard as he could, trying his best not to winch and give away just how bad the pain in his shoulder had gotten. Physicians said that he would recover soon enough but the past week the injury had only begun to hurt more and more. It burned and tore with every movement. Rhui swore the pain made it¡¯s way all the way down his back on one side. Fernwick didn¡¯t take any notice. Just took a swig from his flask, which was always handy, and held out a piece of parchment stamped with the seal of Lord White.


    ¡°Ah!¡± the shift captain let himself enjoy the burn of his drink while Rhui read the letter. He must have seen how wide Rhui¡¯s eyes had gotten because, at the end of his noxious coughing fit, Fernwick nearly yelled.


    ¡°Yes! You, dear Rhui, ole pal! Your whole life is about to change!¡± The man leaned on a small drawer next to his bed and smirked. ¡°Hope you don¡¯t mind but I went ahead and signed myself as your second, in your penmanship, of course.¡± Fernwick gave a playful wink and flicked his eyes down to the paper Rhui held in hand. ¡°You know what this means?¡±


    ¡°No. Not really. A private room, hopefully?¡±


    Fermwick nearly doubled over in a tipsy fit of pleasure before he looked up at Rhui, eyes red from straining to drag in one sane breath.


    ¡°Oh, my boy. You are in for quite the surprise.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Eight

    He rather liked Rhui. Hated lying to the poor young man but there was a quantifiable list of things to get done in a very short amount of time and Rhui, and his position, were the key to at least four or five bullet points. Well, Rhui, and what he believed his position to be. Mezir learned very quickly during his first stint as a rebel commander that a small boost in confidence had a way of catapulting even the lowest of grunts to new pinnacles in strength and potential. Something he had always seen as pivotal for the greatest of armies. With Rhui, however, it was more of a means to an end. Didn¡¯t matter much how much the man believed in his promotion himself, so long as those they ran into did. Mezir, masquerading as Fernwick, would be the second, the affirmation, of Rhui¡¯s promotion if anyone questioned them.


    Before going to visit Rhui in the infirmary he¡¯d made rounds and offered a few bribes, a few lies about changing shifts. A few bone-shattering hits were given to a couple, now unconscious, guards who were stationed nearest the thick double doors to White¡¯s lab. Within a quick hour, Mezir had cleared the way to their destination, though one could never really be too sure, especially when it came to his father. Hence, Rhui¡¯s fake promotion.


    Mezir had always loved the Fernwick disguise because the persona was entirely different from his own. Where the seafaring man practically survived off of honeyed brews and black liquors, Mezir never drank; the essence inside him healed his liver automatically, giving the spirits no effect on him. Where Mezir held himself as regally and profoundly as possible, Fernwick could swagger and sway his way through just about any situation, opinions of his peers be damned.


    It was a true test of Meizir¡¯s acting skills.


    The thrill of the challenge was only enhanced by the fact that the real Fernwick, a salty, bad-mouthed sea captain, was waiting for Mezir and others off the coast of Blancana¡¯s thicket of Wilders. He was instructed to leave and head for Trallengard in a few day''s time without delay, to stay in his cabin indulging himself on the alcohol, women, and men that Mezir had supplied. More than enough to keep a man such as Cap¡¯n Fernwick busy.


    ¡°Aye, Rhui ole pal, you almost done powdering your keister in there? White seemed adamant that we be on the lab doors immediately.¡± Shit. Fernwick wouldn¡¯t use the word adamant, not correctly at least. Get out of your head.


    Rhui hadn¡¯t seemed to notice.


    ¡°Yeah, Yeah, Fernie.¡¯


    Rhui¡¯s head poked out from behind a thin hospital room divider made of opaque glass. His skin was kissed pink on top of an earthen brown that meshed well with the orange hue of the divider. ¡°Just trying to buckle this damn belt. Wanna try?¡± Rhui¡¯s bright blue eyes shone with playful anticipation as he winked at Fernwick.


    Poor kid. He seemed infatuated with the persona.


    ¡°Nah, fearful we may miss the shift then, pal.¡±


    Fernwick gave his own drunken wink back. Stringing Rhui along as close as he could without initiating an unnecessary aside, not that he wasn¡¯t longing for one of those himself, but Mezir had a strict policy about not cavorting while in disguise. Seemed¡­ wrong. Pity too. Would¡¯ve been a nice farewell, he imagined.


    ¡°Alright, alright. Done.¡±


    Rhui stepped out from behind the glass obstruction and gave a sorry imitation of a commander''s bow. His arms were in the wrong position, feet too far apart. Not that Fernwick would notice. ¡°Perfect, sir!¡± Fernwick praised Rhui and smacked two heavy hands on the scrawny boy''s shoulders. ¡°Oh, sorry lad! I forgot about that gimp shoulder of yours.¡±


    Fernwick would forget. Mezir hadn¡¯t.


    Rhui grimaced and shook his head. ¡°No problem, shift captain, new armor took most of the force.¡± Obviously lying.


    He stood tall, chin held high, face aglow with pride at the implications of the crest upon his heavy framework armor dyed white; a slithering creature wrapped all about a sharp-pointed, stark white ¡®W¡¯. The whole set was inlaid with gold and bordered with imbued metals that shone as if reacting to light around them. A quaint insignia on the shoulder marked him as ranked second in the order of Serpints. Or Nu¡¯ Serpints. Or whatever madness White had forced the Lords of his Nu¡¯ Council to pass. For a moment Mezir saw the man, the great man, great commander, and leader, that Rhui could become one day.


    He committed the man to his memory. A keepsake, a reminder of the good in the world. Of what could have been. Of what would never be.


    ¡°Now! Time for another surprise for you, dear¡­ uh¡­ sir, Rhui!¡±


    Mezir struggled to keep the voice of Fernwick from getting too loud and was afraid he heard another infirmary patient ruffling sheets in their cot. He¡¯d never had to whisper as Fernwick.


    ¡°Follow me, commander, sir.¡± Better. The rustling sheets stopped too. Keep going. ¡°We¡¯ve got a special guest accompanying us tonight!¡± As Fernwick, he led Rhui to the doors of the White¡¯s guard infirmaries. The young man-boy was limping the whole way. Something was wrong with more than just his shoulder.


    As I thought, the physicians lied. On the chart and in announcements. But why? Why tell everyone he was going to recover? Obviously on father¡¯s command¡­ but to what end?


    Whatever it was that Mezir¡¯s father had planned for the injured Rhui¡¯s remaining time, which only numbered in hours by the looks of it, Mezir was going to end before it began. It gave him a sick pleasure knowing it would hurt his father. It hurt his own heart, however, to look at Rhui as a piece on the board. To know he was going to die. That he was¡­ disposable. But he was, wasn¡¯t he?


    Every guard. Every soldier. Everyone is disposable. Kings, nobles, Lords¡­ Legends.. One day, I¡¯ll be too, I¡¯m sure. But that day is not today. Mezir knew his father said something similar long ago. Just another layer of pain, for another time.


    Fernwick held the infirmary doors open for Rhui, bowing his head slightly the whole time, should anyone be making surprise rounds. There was one figure sitting on a bench outside of the doors in a massive hallway glittering with golden essence in white marble, but he had been expecting them. Opalescent lights dimmed automatically as the day progressed, at the time, they were mimicking the brightness of night¡¯s mistress, Luna. The person sitting on the bench was in full view.


    ¡°Dear commander Rhui, I would like you to meet a very personal friend of mine and our magna¡­ gracious Lord White¡¯s.


    Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso.¡±


    ***


    Ta¡¯K wasn¡¯t extremely keen on the idea of wearing a Lili-Bon suit, which Mezir had on hand for some reason, because each suit in Mezir¡¯s fancy metal case looked too real. As if he¡¯d skinned and stolen the eyes of what had to be hundreds of people at the least. Of course, he didn¡¯t, and the Lili-Bon suit was more than enough proof of that, as she was still very much alive. Still, it didn¡¯t sit well with Ta¡¯K to use Mezir¡¯s suits, which seemed like fairly personal magic to him. So, he manufactured his own illusion of Lili-Bon and hid his eyes beneath a cloak, as they were sure to be askew.


    Mezir said they¡¯d work on that soon enough but for the time being to ¡°just smile, curtsy-¡± whatever the hell that was- ¡°and follow behind him¡±, ... Fernwick? To follow Mezir as Fernwick and this Rhui fellow they were going for. Ta¡¯K asked Mezir why they were going after this sickenly slim man in the infirmary on their way through winding, wet, dankly dark tunnels beneath the estate, but was met with only tense silence.


    He contemplated the implications of that silence while he sat on a bench alone in the grand hall. Nothing Ta¡¯K could come up with seemed like a desirable answer, so he relented and got into the mindset of Lili-Bon. He¡¯d seeded some essence into her mind, slowly as to not exhaust himself or alert her, while she had ¡°slept¡± and felt his way through a few memories. The process would bring back some of her essence to be melded into his own and while it would assimilate, it would change some part of him over time. As would all the others he¡¯d touched with his essence and held.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    Unlike the others, Lili-Bon Vin Dreso was a very particular person with a peculiar essence. When he looked upon her with his sight, Lili¡¯s body was aglow in more white swathes of essence than red. Green skittered in strikes of lightning down her limbs, blue specks flicked in and out of existence all over between each green crack. At Lili-Bon¡¯s core, he saw red, orange, purple, black- It was a staggering amount of essence for one person to hold, and to make matters more astounding it all seemed stagnant. Where most people¡¯s magic traveled atop their pulsing blood in veins of pure energy, Lili¡¯s sat still. Almost as if adhered there purposely.


    Lili-Bon always walked five paces behind her guards, always slept on her left side on even days, right side on odd. She rarely made eye contact, almost never made physical contact, and only spoke to a select few people outside of her family it seemed. She was entirely uncomfortable around emotion as it often confused her to some degree, though she prided herself in knowing how to read through the confusion. With logic.


    A near-silent pragmatic with antisocial behaviors. The perfect part for Ta¡¯K to play.


    When the doors to the infirmary opened he became Lili-Bon, so much as he could.


    She rose and gave a small bow at her introduction, the one thing Ta¡¯K could think would be as acceptable as a ¡®curtsey¡¯.Fernwick¡¯s face showed a genuine concern for a brief moment and Rhui seemed to be utterly shocked.


    Luckily, the scrawny man, no older than Ta¡¯K himself, broke the silence between them with strained laughter. ¡°Seems like we could all use lessons in proper etiquette, my Lady, Countess Lili-Bon.¡± Rhui kneeled down and propped an arm upon his left leg, bowing his head. Behind him, Fernwick pointed at Lili-Bon and mouthed the word ¡®curtsey¡¯ as he did a quick demonstration and fell in beside Rhui.


    Lili-Bon raised her hands to the side and barely bent her knees, bobbing her head at the end. Just as Fernwick showed her. It served as enough for both men who stood and turned without further conversation; they¡¯d both been around Lili-Bon before and knew her mannerisms. Made Ta¡¯K¡¯s part that much easier to play. Ahead of him, he observed both Mezir, playing the role of Fernwick, and Rhui. The former looked fantastically entrenched in his suit as expected. Mezir played a spectacular drunkard for a man who refused even a single puff of Ta¡¯K¡¯s giggleweed. It amazed him how the Fernwick suit was half of Mezir¡¯s actual size. A perfect disguise. An embodiment of careless vagrancy.


    Rhui, on the other hand, was not exactly the image he¡¯d conjured in his mind when Mezir told him they¡¯d be bringing a White¡¯s guard along with them. The man¡¯s armor was surely that of an honored and decorated warrior; though more than just a little gaudy. Gold, silver, iron, framework clasps, sparks of essence, and a hint of marble in the insignia on his chest all spoke of a hardened soldier. A respected one. It was entirely out of place on the scrawny man¡¯s frame. He looked tentative like he watched the shadows behind him when he was alone. Not that Ta¡¯K could blame him. Rhui¡¯s skin tone did sit well against that of his armor as it jostled about his body, though, like a handsome child wearing their father¡¯s gear before he went on tour. The thought made Ta¡¯K smile as he watched the man limping gingerly ahead of him.


    Which meant Lili-Bon smiled. And Rhui was, of course, looking back at her in that exact moment. Damn it. What if he wants to talk now? He looks like he wants to talk. Would Lili? Has she talked to him before? Shit, he''s slowing down now. Come on Fernwick- Mezir- Damn it!


    Lili-Bon flicked her eyes frantically until she found a painting on the wall to focus on. She¡¯d always loved art. So had Ta¡¯K. Granted Ta¡¯s artistry was vastly different from Blancanan''s, which consisted of a plethora of very well-done portraits. Of whom, he had no idea. It seemed Lili-Bon didn¡¯t either, not so far as he could ¡®remember¡¯. But she still liked them. She stopped in front of a large oil painting that depicted a woman, nude except her Legend¡¯s mask, standing triumphant among a mountain of slain foes. A plaque beneath it read, ¡°Lady Pyrell. Battle Lun Todos. Circa 1,000 A.E.¡±


    ¡°Ah, Lady Pyrell. You have good taste- Lili-Bon- but we must keep moving.¡±


    Oh thank the Almatra Noctra, it''s Mezir! Uh, Fernwick. Right.


    Lili gave a polite nod of her head and waited for Fernwick to take his place beside Rhui. Exactly five steps ahead of her. As always. There she stayed, just five steps behind them, the whole way to their destination, without incident. Rhui glanced back more than once during their short walk but luckily Lili-Bon¡¯s hood made it so she could appear not to see him. They eventually stopped at a set of large double doors that looked entirely out of place in the estate¡¯s grandiose marble and golden utopian scheme. Their metal was cobalt blue and two panes of thin glass sat in their center. Beyond them, Lili-Bon spotted a steep set of stairs. And darkness.


    ¡°Alright, sir, Rhui¡­ commander?¡± Fernwick smiled boyishly, a mannerism that was pure Mezir. Rhui seemed non too perturbed by the break of character, or perhaps all of Mezir¡¯s character shared something like that with him- either way, the scrawny man in armor that was ¡°too-big-for-his-britches¡± couldn¡¯t have been happier.


    ¡°Yes, shift captain uh, pal?¡±


    It looked to Lili-Bon like Fernwick took a second to admire Rhui¡¯s sly smile before he cleared his throat and took a swig of whatever horrid mixture Mezir had concocted to create such an alcoholic scent, in what the man swore was water.


    Water my ass, pal. Wait, Lili-Bon wouldn¡¯t think that. Would she? Ta¡¯K almost faced another crisis of identity then and there, evidently still somewhat shaken by¡­ well everything. Fortunately, fake Fernwick finished his swig in time to help keep the facade together a bit longer.


    ¡°Our post is here-¡± Fernwick pointed to a spot on the left of the metal behemoth¡¯s threshold, ¡°- and here. Take your pick, I couldn¡¯t give a shit either way. Uhm, sir.¡± A pause to wow with his dazzlingly pungent smile. ¡°The young miss there will be heading down, down, down into the dark pits of that horrid place for a¡­ personal errand on behalf of Lord White. We stand here and make sure that no one interrupts her. That is all. Then we can go get a drink and celebrate your first successful job as an official Serpint!¡±


    ¡°As if you haven¡¯t already started, you hog.¡±


    ¡°Ah, that is why I said we! Hah!¡±


    The two men seemed genuinely jolly despite their separately complicated circumstances. Mezir¡¯s being that he was playing as another man to manipulate someone he actually enjoyed being around and Rhui¡¯s being that there was very obviously something wrong with him physically. And that he was being manipulated. He¡¯d started their walk with a limp, favoring his left side. Now he was excessively sweaty, dangerously pale. Ta¡¯K spotted black lines on his neckline, just visible below the heavy white armor.


    What in the blessed¡¯s bosom happened to him?


    Lili-Bon wouldn¡¯t ask, so Ta¡¯K didn¡¯t. In Lili¡¯s image he walked toward both men, as silent as¡­ well, me, I suppose. She bowed her head and stepped between Rhui and Fernwick without any eye contact as they heaved the hulking doors open. Fernwick did much of the actual heaving but Rhui gave it quite an attempt, the good sweaty sport that he was. Neither said a word as Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso walked into the threshold of what Mezir had repeatedly referred to as ¡°White¡¯s Labs¡±.


    ¡°Don¡¯t look around. Don¡¯t explore. Don¡¯t waste time, we don¡¯t have much left. Just get to her and get the fuck out.¡± Mezir¡¯s face appeared before Ta¡¯K¡¯s mind as it was when they finalized their plans just outside the dank tunnel''s entrance. Serious. Stern.


    Scared? He¡¯d jested.


    ¡°Yes. You should be too.¡±


    When the doors closed behind him and silence sprang into a fitful waltz with the darkness around him Ta¡¯K was very much himself again. Very much scared. Again.


    It all felt too close to his time in the mines, to his miniature hovel cored out of the side of a mountain. A mountain he and thousands of other handless slaves decimated in a few year''s time with nothing but pickaxes bolted on bracelets about their fresh, fleshy stubs. All to collect pure stone essence for Lord White and his noble warriors who couldn¡¯t absorb it themselves. He¡¯d thought, at least. Seeing White for himself at Schuri¡¯s shop made him reconsider all he thought he knew about the man, the force, that was Grand Councilor White.


    Ta¡¯K braved the darkness before him and began a slow descent down a frighteningly steep set of stairs. Every little drop made his right leg scream. The trallendust imbued the wound on either piece of the leg with false nerves, meant to reattach to the real ones. He¡¯d done it on others before, successfully, the attachment wasn¡¯t a very difficult thing if one understood the process. As with all casting, sufficient knowledge made nearly anything possible. Ta¡¯K¡¯s mistake was doing far too much on the fresh injury far too soon. He¡¯d caused something to shift or break, possibly dislodged some of the dust, shot out too much essence- whatever the case, his leg was dying.


    Good thing I¡¯m Lili-Bon right now or this would really hurt.


    He¡¯d keep the guise and slow gait until the bottom of the stairs that divulged absolute, endless darkness. There, he would use his sight. If anyone down there saw the glow he should be quick enough to hide after. Though the leg wasn¡¯t going to help his plans any. Ta¡¯K abandoned all hope of making it to the last step less than fifteen minutes later, still descending slowly into a darkness that suffocated him with terror and memories to spare. He breathed. He walked. He cried. Sweating and scared. He fell.


    The pain was spreading up his still attached thigh and down the slowly dying shin and foot below his knee. Growing like a tumor.


    One that he could remove.


    Damn it all¡­ Amberosin, please wait just a moment longer.


    Ta¡¯K dropped the illusion of Lili-Bon, he was entirely, utterly alone on his trek downward after all. No need to hide when one is so desperately solitary in their own nightmare. The demons always follow with the dark.


    The entire right leg was burning now.


    Now or never Ta¡¯K Ta¡¯ Uma.


    He sat against a wall that was closer than he¡¯d expected. The thought of the stairwell being narrower than he imagined didn¡¯t exactly comfort him, but it was good to know. Refusing to let Amberosin suffer in whatever he set to work. Tied a strip of his own cloak across the border between his thigh and the pulsing trallendust. Tied it as tight as he could. Knotted it. Knotted it again.


    Stop stalling. She¡¯s waiting. She¡¯s alone too.


    Ta¡¯K grimaced and sent two blades of blue essence down each forearm, their tips sticking out a full blade''s length from his wrist. They were too long. He willed them to shrink and they did so promptly. Ta¡¯K lined them up to the bottom border of trallendust that sat against the foot that had become dead weight and took in a deep breath.


    Then he pushed down with all his might.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine

    Chapter Thirty-Nine


    Amberosin¡¯s left eye was swollen shut. Her lips were split in more than one spot, top, and bottom, and she was sure her face sported more than a fair amount of bruises. Still, she found herself smiling.


    Amberosin hadn¡¯t let that spiteful smile fade since White started pounding away at her with his massive gloved fists as punishment for her disrespect. The fresh crimson that stained his white leather boundaries only made her victory that much sweeter in the end. She knew the man probably had millions of pairs so it didn¡¯t matter much¡­ but White definitely cared. That was enough for her. As soon as Amberosin let the food fly from her mouth she knew she had him. White¡¯s hands sprang from the table, he¡¯d stood tall and shook so hard all the cutlery and plates trembled along with him. She felt the first hit before she had seen anything. Amberosin smiled upon impact.


    That all you got old man?


    She didn¡¯t say it. Didn¡¯t have to. Her expression practically screamed it.


    White hit her again, same fist, hard enough this time to knock her to the floor where he couldn¡¯t see Amberosin¡¯s smirking face. Amberosin roared, made sure White knew she was enjoying herself even more. He responded, ever promptly, with a leaden foot to her guts. She heard the table slide from between them as she fought for air he¡¯d just stolen. It crashed hard somewhere to their right, sounded a lot like wood had splintered and fallen to the floor. Amberosin was still grinning from ear to ear as White grabbed her dirty collar and lifted her up to what she had to imagine was eye level. Her feet were off the ground, swaying carelessly.


    The small movement gave her the momentum she needed to see just behind Lord White¡¯s smooth-horned helmet. They¡¯d made enough noise that a servant¡¯s head popped, a head wrapped in a thin colorful cloth, broke through the threshold. Just for a second. Enough light made it inside during that brief moment that her eyes stung a bit, blinking through blood wasn¡¯t making that any better, but she forced them open and took in everything she could. Outside of her seemingly regal, ¡®lady-like¡¯ room there was nothing but concrete hallways adorned with harsh lights that were nowhere near as effective as the estorches she¡¯d seen in glimpses of nobles'' homes and estates.


    One set of lights was spinning on the hallway wall. Almost directly next to her room.


    Oh, that tricky little fucker.


    There was no moonlight coming in, no sign of a time of day or night. White wanted to distract her¡­ no, that wasn¡¯t right¡­ he wanted to make her believe she¡¯d been there longer than she had! Amberosin had made a guess at five days before so now she knew it had to be less than that.


    Amberosin had gotten what she needed and her attention to the lights didn¡¯t go unnoticed by Lord White. He screamed at the servant who had opened the door, dropped Amberosin, and stormed out of the room. After a few moments, the lights outside of her ¡°window¡± went out. She was left in a pitch-black emptiness for a few hours that she spent fumbling around her gaudy, gargantuan cell. When Amberosin found the bed she happily laid down and took a well-deserved rest.


    She¡¯d been woken, all too short a time later, when her bedroom door crept open in a deliberately unhurried manner. Amberosin remained unmoving in bed for a moment and waited for her visitor to come into view through squinted eyes. After a few moments spent turning on dim lights situated around the room a meek old woman, bald-headed with a cloth draped over her scalp, came in with a platter and set it on Amberosin¡¯s bedside table. The dining table sat shattered against a wall far to the right, splinters of thick oakwood and cutlery strewed about the floor around it. A lovely monument to her victorious rousing of Lord White.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    Amberosin did her best to keep a neutral tone. She didn¡¯t know this woman and despite her obviously working for Lord White, she wore the garbs of an Indentured. Most of the Indentured in White¡¯s estate, from what she¡¯d gathered months ago gathering intel for her successfully, suddenly unimportant, heist had almost all been slaves before the Fracturing. Free people in name only. Because of that Amberosin wouldn¡¯t allow herself to judge her based solely on the woman''s position.. Though the emblazoned ¡°W¡± on the woman¡¯s garments spiked Amberosin¡¯s blood at every glimpse.


    Just like my scar¡­ except she can take the brand off. Technically.


    ¡°Yes, miss?¡± The woman bowed her head slightly and the cloth atop her scalp slid forward, falling over her eyes.


    ¡°Please, don¡¯t bow to me. And¡­ just call me Amberosin. Okay?¡±


    Elderly, tired yellow/green eyes met her own. Full of tears that threatened to stain the woman¡¯s lovely, warm cocoa skin. ¡°Yes m¡­ Amberosin.¡± She smirked and stood as tall as she could, which wasn¡¯t much straighter than her bow.


    Amberosin reached up and touched her eye that was, at the time, completely closed and bulging like a lonely man¡¯s groin outside of a brothel he¡¯d been eyeing out all day.


    Only a few hours then? Good. ¡°Would you happen to have any ice?¡±


    With a negligible nod only confirmed by her eye contact with Amberosin, the elderly Indentured woman left the room. She was able to count to one thousand and two hundred while she ate, waiting for the woman to come back. When she walked through the threshold she pushed a cart with a pail of ice, some washcloths, and a bottle of oils sat on top.


    Twenty minutes? Is that just because she''s aged and slow?


    A few minutes watching her work in Amberosin¡¯s room dispelled any notions that the woman may be slow. Aged- definitely, however, she moved about the room prepping a hundred tasks at once, and Amberosin couldn¡¯t tell what about half of those tasks were. Ice was set in a purple cloth that seemed to wrap about the cold chunks all on its own and given to Amberosin while she watched. The Indentured popped open four or five different vials of fetid oils, mix their entire contents into one concoction at the bottom of a large cauldron pulled from the bottom shelf of her cart, and pull out a pint¡¯s worth of ambrosial liquid that reminded Amberosin of waking to the many-layered scents of early morning underneath large leaf laden trees in the Wilder¡¯s. She even caught a whiff of dew.


    White¡¯s Indentured spent a moment warming the pint on a small circular sheet that warmed with the turn of a few tiny grey knobs. Once the temperature was set where she desired she left the large glass container full of morning¡¯s scents on the warming plate and made her way over to Amberosin. She pushed the young girl¡¯s hand further onto her bruise which stung like no other but was something she¡¯d needed to do to begin with. Amberosin nodded a polite thank you and smiled. Odd how she felt like this woman had authority over her. Even more perplexing to Amberosin was that the woman didn¡¯t seem to take any advantage of that supposed authority.


    Prisoner and Indentured? What¡¯s the difference?


    ¡°Can I ask your name?¡±


    ¡°You can ask anything you please mis- Amberosin. Here, like all in my station, I am simply Indentured. Nothing more.¡±


    ¡°That is not a name.¡±


    ¡°It is a name. Just not the one you were looking for.¡±


    She gave Amberosin a keen-eyed smirk that only those over a certain age can manage and held a wet cloth in her hand. Amberosin nodded that she could do as she needed. Slowly, very gently, she rubbed the warm cloth up and down Amberosin¡¯s arms. The grim slid right off onto the fabric and when they got soiled all the Indentured had to do was flick her fingers with a small cast of essence and the cloth became pristine once more.


    Is that how she did so much at once? She had barely seen a glow on the woman. Or is she just that good?


    Amberosin allowed the Indentured woman to work the warm, sweet-smelling cloth, no doubt doused in the ambrosial oils at some point or another, all the way down her legs and dirt-caked feet in silence. Each body part came away pristine with the scent of the WIlder¡¯s waking. She stopped at every hemline of Amberosin¡¯s disgusting clothes, moved to the next piece of exposed skin, cleaned her rag, and repeated until Amberosin was the cleanest she had been in a long, long time. And she had never smelled so great.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Amberosin paused and watched the woman as she prepared two rags and set them on the nightstand.


    ¡°These are for you to use on your¡­ personal areas, my dear.¡±


    Personal areas. That is adorable. ¡° Much appreciated, Mrs¡­¡± Amberosin saw the woman smile but she turned her back and went about putting together her cart. Just before she left, however, she stopped.


    ¡°Desinra Bin-Dresil. Desi, to most.¡±


    ¡°Oh my, Desi you hound! Correct me if I am wrong but doesn¡¯t a hyphen in the name mean you¡¯re a married woman? How would your lifelong lover feel if they knew how you were touching all over little ole me?¡± Amberosin smiled to let it be known she jested in good fun but her face fell flat when she saw the sorrow rise in the woman¡¯s entire being. Desi¡¯s stature slumped, her head leaned forward, almost parallel with the ground for a moment before she turned half of her face back to Amberosin. Desi smiled but there was a huge crystalline drop cutting down her cheek.


    ¡°Widowed, dear. Very recently widowed.¡±


    With that Desi made her exit. The dim lights in the room went out with her.


    ***


    ¡°Ra-a-gs¡± a short song rang out of the infinite dark.


    She¡¯s here! Rags shot up and sucked in as much light as he could, though he knew shadows rode the rays into his iris¡¯ as well, there was little to no choice left. He needed to see, after all. Their game was afoot.


    Silent as a stone heart left in the cavity of death, he stepped once to the side. Waited.


    ¡°Rags, you know you¡¯ll have to do better than that.¡±


    She''s closer now. So, so, so close. He could hear her short, excited gasps as she rode swirling shadows around him in circles. Rag¡¯s body pulsed hard along with the blood in his veins, especially a bit below his waistline. He could almost feel Marina smile at that.


    ¡°Of course¡­. You could just want me to catch you.¡± Just a whisper behind his left ear. Rags could feel it chilling his skin at the nape but it warmed the rest of him with ethereal pleasure. ¡°You tricky little-¡± Marina was suddenly before him, her hand wrapped around his throbbing excitement, ¡°- oh, I suppose I should say, big man, shouldn¡¯t I?¡± A light giggle swam around his head. She was gone again. Rags could feel the phantom of her hand still on him.


    ¡°You can say whatever you like, Lady Marina. Just so long as you promise to say it to me. Only to me.¡± All the air around him grew fierce with heat. Rags smiled.


    Go ahead.


    He heard a tear, a rush of wind, and the sound of a fist smacking his abdomen. He felt the impact throughout his whole being and nearly crumpled to the floor. Nearly. Rags never saw Marina or her fist but he knew exactly how each felt. Could already tell when she was holding back on him. ¡°Oh, come now. I am yours, entirely. My Lady.¡±


    He wasn¡¯t sure if it was the possessive parts or just being called ¡°Lady¡± but it triggered her, as always. Marina came yelling from above Rags this time, fully visible to his eyes now, whether it was because he¡¯d consumed more light essence or simply sucked down more shadows, he didn¡¯t know. Didn¡¯t care. She was beautiful. Here, in his pitch-black paradise, she was everything. The fact that Marina had dispelled her own shade in the dark domain and allowed Rags to see her beguiled and intrigued him. It meant she wanted him to see her.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Instead of trying to brace for a strike or roll out of her way Rags willed some of the darkness about them to slow her, just barely and threw himself to his back on the ground. A small cloud of dark met him before he hit anything hard and not a moment later Marina was on top of him. She landed on him hard enough to knock the breath out of him but he still grinned up at her, arms to his side. Defenseless. Their bodies warmed each other the longer she sat there, staring at him intensely. He felt as if they were humming- vibrating, on their own shared frequency. It was intoxicating.


    Marina beamed. ¡°So, you can move them on your own now? Been practicing without me?¡± She straddled her legs down against him. Forcefully grinding herself against him, leaving his own naked erection slick with tingling wetness.


    ¡°Impressed?¡±


    ¡°Entirely.¡± She smirked down, rotating her hips ever so delicately. Guiding him without her hands. ¡°Took me a bit longer to master, I¡¯ll admit. I¡¯m excited to see what all you can do!¡±


    And there, again, she transformed his dark prison into an exotic den of paradise and pleasure. And there, again, he took in as much essence from her shades, her body, as he could manage. Consuming her little by little. It was the one time his mediocrity with casting had done him any good. Couldn¡¯t work outside of his own skillset, no matter how badly he wanted to. But, he was doing his best. With a little help from ¡®Rags¡¯ and the darkness around him, unwitting help from Marina herself, he was putting his all into everything. She was everything to Rags. He hung on her every word. Her every movement.


    It was the perfect part.


    Ragoth picked up on the play as soon as Marina had called him Rags for the first time. She¡¯d expected whatever he had absorbed to break his mind entirely, not counting on the fact that it had already been broken. Ragoth was hidden deep inside himself for years, he had become Mezir De Blancana, or his own version of the great man at the least. When the shadows rode in on the small flecks of light he¡¯d absorbed they snared and killed the man that was there; they had killed the false Mezir.


    Ragoth remained.


    Ragoth was no fool. In fact, his intellect had always been his only strength. That and his undeniably meager look. Even now he looked too thin for a man his age and the red hair, once common to the Nomad¡¯s, complemented other¡¯s dark skin, but not his own. Ragoth felt it shadowed the rest of his visage. His skin was not dark enough to pop against in and had too much of a light red undertone itself to match his hair¡¯s intensity. As such, he looked like a misplaced, sickly man no matter where one put him.


    Ragoth knew his role and he played it well.


    So far as he¡¯d been able to discern Marina had only kept him captive for a couple of days at most. He¡¯d been tracking minutes in his head, approximating heavily of course, and gotten to some time more than one day, but less than three. Ragoth didn¡¯t hold much confidence in his own mathematical abilities anymore to be honest, his mind had been sluggish since being decimated by Lord White, but he held enough confidence still to inspire some hope.


    If it really only had been a couple of days he still had a tiny chance to escape. To redeem himself a lifetime of wasteful cowardice. Ragoth didn¡¯t want to waste that chance when it arose. So he watched Marina carefully and felt himself fill with her energy. He reached out to the essence of shadow around them that seemed so willing to conform to his being, to abandon Marina without hesitation.


    She is going to climax! Rags screamed inside, belligerently excited to please his mistress.


    Yes. She sure is. Ragoth was just as, if not more, elated, but he let Rags take all the pleasure and joy of Marina¡¯s wildly bucked hips slamming ever harder against his own. An agonizing pleasure that Ragoth ignored as he commanded shadows to tangle about her arms. They clamped tight. Squeezed until her arms revealed bulging veins.


    She liked that. Rags was certain of it. Ragoth¡¯s body confirmed.


    Good. Then she¡¯ll love this.


    A thought, almost in unison, that both shared; albeit with very different intent. A thought that ended with their hands about Marina¡¯s neck. Rags choking metered, squeezing gently, little by little, as one does a lover who enjoys the thrill. Ragoth allowed it, took a back seat so to speak. Marina was reaching her apex now, nearly screaming on top of them with her hands restrained to the side by tentacles of pure darkness. Rags wrapped his hands about her neck tighter. Harder. Just a little bit more pressure, her neck was turning red. Rags knew her limit, they were close. Harder. Rags relented. Marina was enjoying herself, who was he to stop her? Their knuckles were nearly white now. She soaked their manhood in pure ecstasy. Rags wanted to let go of her now, she looked more purple than red. Harder. Rags didn¡¯t want to. Marina was his love, his mistress. He couldn¡¯t kill her.


    Ragoth understood. Couldn¡¯t well expect a man to kill someone he loved, could he?


    No. Rags couldn¡¯t bare down any harder. So Ragoth did. Marina must have noticed the change in his grip, the rigid, unrelenting cold that traveled down his hands and held her in place. Ragoth was sure his face reflected even less warmth. He wanted it to freeze Marina. Her bulging dilated eyes told him he had succeeded. He could feel the naked, vulnerable woman reach out to the shadows, to the darkness that had enveloped her and obeyed her every command. He felt them turn their back on her.


    He squeezed tighter. The shadows wrapping about his hands lent their own strength. Marina¡¯s neck cracked with a sickening sound that awoke Ragoth to the darkness about him and he cast it aside. Felt it crawl deep within him. Hidden from sight. Relinquished of all responsibility. He stared at the woman above him and watched all life fade from her eyes.


    Ragoth was crying as the shadows fell from Marina¡¯s lifeless arms and her naked, breathless body fell against him. He removed himself from her quickly then, no vestige of pleasure to be found, and laid her down before getting horrendously sick all over the ground. Ragoth sobbed. It didn¡¯t matter that he felt justified, that she had abducted and infected him. That she was an agent to Lord White who would¡¯ve just killed him in the end anyway. It didn¡¯t matter that he thought it was in self-defense. He was awash in loathing and grief. He¡¯d never wanted to kill anyone. Especially not like this. He refused to look at her again.


    This was my first act as Ragoth. I killed a naked woman, mid climax. An insane, sadistic, bastard child of Lord White who could command shadows, but a naked woman mid climax all the same. Not exactly the start to the tales of a Legend. Though, even there in that thought, he felt a small elation. She used to command the shadows. Now, he did. The only problem was Ragoth wasn¡¯t sure how he would ultimately utilize that power. He was in no shape, mentally or physically, to help anyone. He had no idea how to use his violently usurped new abilities and that made him a danger to the few friends he had left. He¡¯d seen how the shadows fed Marina¡¯s dark impulses, stole all self-control. It would happen to him too, he was sure.


    So what do I do?


    Ragoth looked around him. Now that the shadows were inside him, and not spread all about the world, he saw that he was in a plain room with empty grey walls made of smooth stone. There was nothing. No windows. No furniture. One single, solitary door made of thick black metal bars. He walked towards the door and phased into shadow to slip through. He didn¡¯t even have to think about it.


    Walk, poof, walk.


    And all about him, the shadows followed.


    ***


    Desinra burst into Amberosin¡¯s room a few hours after her last visit and slammed the door. All the estorches flicked to life at once with a snap of the old woman¡¯s fingers. She was sweating, rubbing her bald head repeatedly. After the woman flicked her eyes to Amberosin more than once and went back to thinking Amberosin decided to speak up.


    ¡°Uhm, Des? You feeling alright?¡±


    Des looked at Amberosin with a deep hurt in her eyes. She didn¡¯t know what it was but she knew hurt well enough to recognize it in others. Regardless, the woman gave Amberosin a soft smile.


    ¡°Yes, dear. Yes. Terrified beyond all belief but I feel alright. On the contrary, I feel quite exquisite. My Dresil would be so proud of me.¡± The older woman was running around the room with a sackcloth shoving things from all over into it, mainly foods and some oils, but Amberosin saw the quick flash of metal more than once. ¡°He always said I spent too long sitting on my hands, hah! If only he could see me now, Amberosin!¡±


    Amberosin had absolutely no heavenly idea what Desinra was going on about but she recognized a ¡°thrown-together-for-a-quick-escape¡± bag when she saw one.


    ¡°Des. Des. Desinra!¡±


    She finally stopped and cast an irritated look at Amberosin.


    ¡°Hurry up girl! If you can¡¯t tell what''s going on by now I don¡¯t know why I am even trying! We are getting you out of here. Something happened way down at the other end of the corridor, doesn¡¯t sound like a long way away but the thing is thousands of miles long, and Lord White investigates every disturbance personally.¡±


    Meaning Lord White would be far enough away to give Amberosin a head start. Where to, she had no idea.


    ¡°But¡­ why?¡±


    ¡°There are more than enough reasons for me to help you and a shit ton more reasons for me to leave you here to rot and live my life with my head down. Do you really want to question me right now?¡±


    Desinra threw a stuffed bag at Amberosin and presented her with a rectangular case roughly the size of her midsection. She took it and looked at it with a raised eyebrow.


    ¡°It''s for first aid. Now let''s go.¡±


    Desinra practically sprinted out of the door and turned left not, even glancing back to see if Amberosin followed. She did, of course, and luckily was close enough to follow the sound of Desi¡¯s footsteps because there wasn¡¯t a single source of light so far as she could see. I¡¯m not the only one getting out of here, am I Desi? It must be horrible working down here.


    She followed close behind Desinra into a hallway as black as death. ¡°You¡¯re pretty fast for a crypt dweller, Desi!¡± Amberosin heard herself echo on endlessly in both directions.


    ¡°Shush girl.¡± Desi chuckled despite her serious tone, ¡°You¡¯re going to get us caught!¡± Amberosin felt a cold, frail hand wrap about her own. ¡°Come on now, we¡¯ve got a horrible trek to embark on and we must keep moving if you are going to make it out of here.¡± Amberosin was guided up on a step, which was followed by another, and another.


    ¡°What about you Des-¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me you goon! I¡¯m old and alone. Widowed. This is where all elderly widowers of guards end up eventually. I knew this was coming. Dresil, the poor daft, didn¡¯t think rumors were true. Thought I¡¯d end up any happier than he did. Ow.¡±


    ¡°You alright?¡±


    ¡°Yes girl, hush, I¡¯m talking to you and I¡¯m not as young as you are so talking and walking upstairs¡­. Is not easy, just keep with me and listen. If you keep stopping me I won¡¯t be able to start again.¡±


    Amberosin only squeezed her hand in reply, more than a bit winded herself. These stairs were excessively steep.


    ¡°Good. Now¡­ Now Dresil was a good man. A sweet, kind, warm person who respected everyone until given reason not to. Humble to a fault, that one. And grouchy as could be. I loved him. Only him... such a long time we were together and it felt like it would never end. After the Fracturing through Dresil was different. Still kind but not so warm. Always looked a bit sad if I¡¯m being honest and with good reason. He told me some things about that ¡°war¡± and how it weren¡¯t no war at all but a massacre. Only Ta¡¯ that fought back did so thinking the act was going to send their souls into damnation. Those who didn¡¯t fight died full of fear and unrequited anger.¡± Desi was silent for several minutes but kept the same pace; one step ahead of Amberosin the whole time. ¡°He told me about¡­ about the part he played. A part that a lot of us played in a different way here in Blancana, unwitting of course, but involved nonetheless. Dresil warned me that if things were to be set right¡­ he would be taken by the vengeful spirit of the Ta¡¯ and he had made peace with that. Wanted me to as well. Hah! Can you imagine? At the time I thought he¡¯d gone war-crazy but¡­ past week, maybe two weeks by now, can¡¯t tell time well down here, Dresil was killed. They said ¡®died in an accident¡¯ but I know the truth. Damn near everyone in the southern district knows the truth. We saw the mounds. The lightning. We¡¯ve heard the stories about a bandaged man¡­¡±


    It hung in the air like an unspoken question between the two. No doubt word was she had been brought in under suspicion of aiding the bandaged man¡­ Ta¡¯K. Amberosin squeezed Desinra¡¯s hand.


    ¡°Right. Sorry. Point is¡­ he told me not to hold a grudge, not to bear ill to him or his kin- in fact, the old fool asked me to help the Ta¡¯ seek their vengeance on Lord White if I could, the moron speaking so vagrantly about the Lord he served! He¡¯s lucky I was a loyal woman, a lot of money to be had in turn coating this lot. Ludicrous as it sounds since you were brought in.. it''s all I could think about. It''s been about three days now, I think, by the way.¡±


    I¡¯ll stick with two days, nice guess though Desi.


    ¡°I was thinking about it on my rounds, supposed to look for and report suspicious folk down here, which is all the folk down here, no normal person navigates in pitch black- anyway, I was thinking and walking and thinking and it so happened that my route today included this very stairwell.¡±


    She walked these stairs twice already? Maybe it has been three days.


    ¡°And while I was walking and thinking, thinking about Dresil and what he had said, thinking about you and how kind you were to me when you had no reason to be¡­ I found something.¡±


    Just then Desrina stopped and held a hand in front of Amberosin. With another quick snap of her fingers, a dim light overtook the surprisingly narrow stairwell. Her eyes were slow to adjust, still unused to being so exposed, but by Desi¡¯s silence, she knew she was meant to be seeing something so she waited and tried to expand her eyes. After a moment of concentrating she saw what was waiting on the stairwell and blanched.


    ¡°Hah! Same look I had when I found the poor bandaged bastard- sorry, but you did kill my husband- nearly finished the fool man off by myself, but then I remembered Dresil, what he had said. I remembered you and... ¡°


    The medical supplies.


    ¡°Please, please do what you have to. Help him. Please¡±


    ¡°Hush now, I was already going to. Give me that first aid kit.¡±


    Amberosin knelt beside Desi with her eyes wide and a lump building in her throat. She watched the woman work while twiddling her thumbs and trying to look away but the darkness was no kinder. Finally, she steeled herself and moved closer to her friend, Ta¡¯K. She had no idea what he¡¯d done at the southern gate, or maybe she did and had just refused to think about it, but she didn¡¯t care just then. She just wanted him to live.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry girl, I¡¯ll save your friend. I¡¯ve got quite the magic touch, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±

 Chapter Forty

    Heria had built up quite a supply of fleeting joys in her transient days with Korrin, though upon seeing Lili-Bon inevitably enter a dark, tiny tunnel, all those joys seeped through her pores. An acrid sweat reminded Heria that her least favorite part of the plan was fast approaching. They were to part ways, again, after such an inconsequential amount of time together that somehow meant everything to Heria. She didn¡¯t want to face it, though as usual what she desired did not matter. The dreaded moment was upon them.


    Both young women smiled ruefully at one another and set about their work. First, they were to cast a thin, translucent rope of essence that would act as a tether between the two. They¡¯d agreed that bending small amounts of air to their will should suffice. Korrin, having the smaller frame and being altogether much more stealthy than Heria, tied the threaded wind about her waist, and prepared to enter the tunnel after Lili-Bon. She stopped at a false wall Lili pushed through only minutes before.


    ¡°Heria.¡± Steel consumed her mismatched eyes and snared Heria in place.


    Right. We¡¯ve got work to do. Save the tears for later. She only nodded. Korrin¡¯s eyes sparked with wetness but she turned away before any tears could fall. They were both struggling profusely it seemed, suffering from a sense of sordid selflessness that only a few others could possibly understand. Both found solace in their being together that neither wanted to let go, they always had- always felt a kinship that held depths of possibility unexplored kindling just beneath the surface. Heria briefly considered begging Korrin to drop the unseen rope and run with her into the Wilders so they may help the sparks between them to grow in a way that Heria had long fantasized about. But it was too late. Korrin was gone.


    The rope of air in Heria¡¯s hands was already quickly spindling in her hand.


    She has always been too fast for me¡­ or I too slow for her, I suppose. Heria held the coiled air in her hands tight, only barely leaving enough slack for it to continue sliding on unimpeded. She could¡¯ve easily cast some blue essence down to her palms and protected them from burning, bleeding all about the air-rope, revealing its thick nature to her eyes more than a few steps away, but Heria didn¡¯t want to. Whatever pain that coursed through her thick, calloused, leathery animal hands and charged through to her wrist, she welcomed.


    It gave her something to focus on. She was desperate for a distraction.


    ***


    The young girl was flashing her eyes about in the dark all over as if looking for a reprieve from the reality that slumped on both her and Desinra¡¯s shoulder. Des held a small es-torch ahead of them with her free hand as they all hobbled up the narrowest staircase in all of Blancana. Even so, visibility was low, to Amberosin and the bandaged fellow at least, Desinra underwent the same surgery that all ¡®Lab attendants¡¯ undergo to see better in the absolute darkness of their station and even the low light was giving her a slight headache. Though, the old woman didn¡¯t want to leave her two young partners in crime in such deep, expansive dark, as she knew it would only slow their pace if they got lost inside their own minds. She chuckled as she peeked over to find the bandaged man, Ta¡¯K according to Amberosin, glancing at the young girl once more. It was doubtful that Amberosin may see or notice his quaint glances in the dim light that Desinra held considering his entire face was wrapped, but the older woman could feel the muscles in his neck turn just slightly every ten steps or so.


    Like he wants to say something. Des laughed at the irony a little louder than she meant to and startled both of her companions. ¡°Sorry. Just¡­ just thinking about Dresil. He used to stare at me from afar when we were both young, pretending to read one book or another while he shot inquisitive glances my way. As if he had something to say. I finally had to go and ask him what it was that he wanted! Poor man¡¯s face lost all color like he¡¯d seen a ghost! Hah!¡±


    Ta¡¯K stopped altogether on his remaining left leg hard enough to stop both women on either side of him. He held himself up straight on Amberosin, steadied on a single steep step, and bent down on his fresh bandaging about his left knee stump. Desinra had to take a few extra inches off to cleave out the infection. The pain was undoubtedly excruciating, nonetheless, the young man made no sound. Didn¡¯t waver an inch. Des lost her breath as Ta¡¯K extended one of his arms, free of the framework hand, out toward her. She accepted his wrist mound in two gentle hands.


    Amberosin stood by, stoic and understanding.


    Both humble and wise well beyond their years-


    Yes. Suffering often causes one to mature much faster. The voice was not her own. Desinra looked down at the man before her only to find his wrapped face posited in her direction.


    You?


    Yes.


    Hm. Sound older than I imagined. She could see his shoulders bounce in a short chuckle. Or was that for my sake? Didn¡¯t want to rub your youth in my face? Venerable indeed, I¡¯d say. She hadn¡¯t meant the word ¡®Venerable¡¯ to be a slight and thought she¡¯d ¡°said¡± it quite neutrally but she could tell by his prolonged silence that it had somehow hurt the man. I¡¯m sorry, I meant no-


    You¡¯re sorry? I¡­ I killed your spouse. In a blind rage, chasing some ¡®honorable¡¯ vengeance I mowed down a loved man. Some useless, senseless, utterly disastrous sense of responsibility to avenge my people led me to become what I detest. To avenge all of Noctra, as if I have the right. I am sorry. I am so sorry. When I¡­ with Dresil and his partner¡­ I was playing a role. ¡®Silent One¡¯ as others know it. A shield of a persona meant to protect the few remnants of me while I could but¡­ I was there. I murdered the man you loved. I could never ask for your forgiveness but I am sorry- as sorry to you as I am grateful for your rescue. I regret nearly all I¡¯ve done since escaping the mines and heading for Blancana. Your husband, however¡­.


    She knew what he was getting at. Your essence touched his, didn¡¯t it? While you were casting¡­. And you accepted it? Hah! My boy, that makes you a thousand times the man Lord White will ever be. Such compassion is¡­ Legendary. Rise Ta¡¯K Ta¡¯Uma. Desinra winked as she saw his head snap to the side, wondering how she¡¯d known his full name; the truth was she was only guessing. Dresil had told her plenty enough about the Ta¡¯ for her to recognize the Venerable Sight which was almost exclusively given to members of the Ta¡¯ Uma family. Ta¡¯K¡¯s reaction all but confirmed it for her. Ta¡¯K rose and stood tall leaving her facing the young man¡¯s chest, still with his arm in her hands. Des looked up to him with all the kindness she could muster. You¡¯ve had my forgiveness ever since Dresil asked me to give it. He knew you were coming, how I¡¯ve no idea, but he was certain the Ta¡¯ would have their vengeance. He believed in what you are doing. To abandon your vengeance would be to have taken his life in vain. So please do not relent; your violence¡­ your violence is virtuous. Yes? Yes. ¡°No death without purpose?¡± Right, dear boy? Now let us go before we waste any more time. Amberosin is starting to look extremely concerned at how close we are standing. Must be feeling jealous.


    By now it was obvious to her that Ta¡¯K could see quite clearly in the darkness of their narrow staircase so she knew he would look over and see the beautiful young woman staring at him with her guard entirely down. Vulnerable and unaware of their intrusion into her truth. Her feelings. What Des was curious about, however, was the fact that he looked away instantly at seeing Amberosin¡¯s raw emotions, her care, and concern, so near the surface. Dresil told Desinra once that the Ta¡¯ held many customs surrounding emotions. She assumed that must be part of it.


    ¡°Alright Amberosin grab his-¡± Ta¡¯K was shaking his head and held up a framework hand stopping Desinra in her tracks. Where does he store those damn things? Before she¡¯d even finished her thought he gave her another set of questions that she just didn¡¯t have the time to tackle. Ta¡¯K¡¯s hands spread wide, further than any natural human hands could, and began humming. A bright red glow surrounded them for a moment but vanished without warning leaving a searing bright spot in Desinra¡¯s eyes. She flinched and blinked rapidly, not wanting to miss a thing, but he was done. Behind him, the stone wall had been torn through and at the bottom of his severed knee was a shin and foot of stone. It would only work for a short while, though, it would work. Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Color me impressed.


    She smiled and walked ahead of him. Amberosin was left utterly in the dark about the happenings before her, in more ways than one, but she didn¡¯t resist when Ta¡¯K grabbed her arm and walked briskly behind Des. The younger woman was already used to his mystic antics, it seemed. Des couldn¡¯t help but tingle with building excitement.


    Oh, my darling Dresil, if you could only see me now!


    ***


    ¡°Rhui? Rhui, mate?¡± Fernwick was shaking Rhui¡¯s shoulders, making his head bang against his oversized metal helmet as it clanged against the marble walls behind him.


    Ouch. Ouch! Please stop that Fernwick! Rhui couldn¡¯t find his voice. He was barely able to see, though, he was sure his eyes were open wide. His scrawny body was alight with incorrigible flames beneath the ornate, heavy, Serpint¡¯s armor. Rhui¡¯s hands refused to move and expel the sweltering leaden weight no matter how strongly he willed it. They all lied, didn¡¯t they? Surgeons, shamans, medics, nurses; Lord White. The whole lot deceived me into thinking I was going to recover, though, I guess I always knew that didn¡¯t I?


    There was a sudden coolness about his head, a welcome reprieve from his helmet confines, momentarily followed by an excessively robust smack from Fernwick¡¯s calloused hand. Well¡­ everyone except Fernwick I suppose. He never told me I looked awful, of course, but he also didn¡¯t feed my false hopes about my health. At least I can take that with me, huh? Knowing I had an actual companion outside of my father¡¯s court. Another smack sent a shock through Rhui that made him realize he couldn¡¯t hear anymore. Absolute silence was beckoning him to slip deeper, further into its malevolently peaceful grasps, and he wanted to. Rhui wanted to sprint towards the escape from his own body and move on to whatever did or did not, come after. His life had been quaint, quite plain for a mid- noble¡¯s son, to be honest, so Rhui didn¡¯t really have many regrets. Nor passions. Nor opinions on anything outside of what his father desired, which was White¡¯s guard, and only White¡¯s guard.


    So it was, so it had been, and so it would be for his youngest brother once he was gone. So it would be for every one of his father¡¯s retainers and children until the end of his linage unless Lord White suddenly decided not to collect on a debt owed to him.


    Shame. Zusil would¡¯ve made a damn fine artist.


    Rhui thought fondly of his younger brother¡¯s artistry, mainly reimaginings of Ta¡¯ Legends, mystic locales, and whatever creatures Argonia Slib theorized survived out in the Wilders. Zusil loved all things fantastical in nature. Not exactly things a vassal of Lord White wanted his son to be depicting, however fine their flawlessly brush strokes and magnificent colors were. There was one that always resonated with Rhui, a bit darker than the others, a lot more foreboding than his usual sprites and mystics or lovely locations. What had Zusil named it?


    Tainted? That sounds right. Gruesome, ugly, magnificent obsidian that seemed to be shifting from vapor to a fluid state, very nearly solid, but much more malleable than anything he¡¯d ever seen. Zusil had implemented especially fine work on the shading and composition. When their father, Reginald Enchan, saw the reminiscently terrifying picture he¡¯d gone sickly and retreated to his quarters for the remainder of the night. Oddly enough, the next time White came to visit their estate, the painting was on display. Their Lord had loved it.


    ¡°Oh-ho, oh my whoever created this masterpiece?!¡±


    Zusil, being only thirteen at the time, nearly flushed and bowed meekly.


    ¡°Well, that is one major talent you have there, my boy! Let us hope your elder siblings do not pass the baton to you too soon, yes?¡± White slammed a hand on Rhui¡¯s shoulder and shook him playfully. He used to enjoy seeing the man so much in his younger days.


    Rhui had already known four older siblings lost to White¡¯s battles and missions. He was his family¡¯s last hope before they sent in their only remaining heir, something no noble ever wanted to face. Looking back he could see the threat in White¡¯s words but it was too late now, wasn¡¯t it? He¡¯d failed his father, his brother¡­ his whole family would suffer.


    Sorry, everyone. I really did give it my all.


    ***


    ¡°Rhui! Legends damn it all¡­¡±


    The young, scrawny guard startled rattling so profusely in the armor that seemed even larger on him than it had a few short hours ago when Ta¡¯K had entered the labs. The Ta¡¯ was taking far too long for Mezir¡¯s liking and had evidently run up all the time they could use Rhui. Mezir was caught between himself and Fernwick. Mezir¡­ Mezir could probably save the young man if given enough time to figure out exactly what his father had done to Rhui in the first place¡­ but should he? Would he? Still all so unclear. So muddled¡­ so use what you know.


    Rhui¡¯s eyes were closed so it didn¡¯t matter that Fernwick was looking at him with such solemn, longing eyes that revealed the man beneath the skinsuit. He evidently was also unable to hear him anymore as there had been no response whatsoever from the sweaty little man to his yelling. He stared at the dying man with his own eyes, with Mezir¡¯s, and saw the logical solution. To let the man die. To leave him and let fate have its way while he went to save his team. Something about that felt¡­ wrong, though, so he conjured up some compassion from dear old Schuri¡¯ and dawned a whole new, unseen suit for just a moment. Compassion, Mezir. Remember to practice compassion. To separate yourself from your father. To be your own. Now stop thinking and feel this, damn it!


    Even doing his best to conjure his empathy and compassion Mezir arrived at a very similar solution as he had using his own logic. So far as he could tell, the morally compassionate thing was fairly obvious. Rhui was suffering, was in pain that Mezir scarcely had an understanding of, and he could end that for the young man. He could grant him peace before whatever tore through his body devoured everything within Rhui¡¯s extravagant suit of armor.


    So it was decided, or, it had been, hadn¡¯t it? Mezir always knew Rhui was meant for an early grave. There was no point in denying it now that the moment was upon them.


    ¡°Rhui¡­¡± Mezir rested the chapped lips of his Fernwick disguise against Rhui¡¯s scalding forehead. The sweat was already turning cold on Rhui¡¯s skin, who was bucking more wildly than before. Mezir restrained his shoulders with unwavering hands. ¡°... I¡¯ve not known you long, my friend, but there is one thing that has become increasingly clear to me with every moment spent by your side. Rhui.¡± Mezir sighed and moved his right hand to his hip, unsheathing a thin, kinked dagger embellished with gold bumps in the vague image of a massive bird. He placed the tip against Rhui¡¯s gargantuan chest plate which sizzled slightly in protest. ¡°You would¡¯ve made a Legend to contend with. One day. If only my father had not blighted your life. All of our lives.¡± Mezir pulled Rhui close to him with his left hand behind the man¡¯s sweltering, soaked scalp. ¡°I¡¯d like to have been a father myself, had things been different. Never told anyone that before. I¡¯d have made a damn good one.¡±


    With the weight of his body, Mezir leaned forward and listened as the dagger seared through the Serpint¡¯s armor, piercing straight through Rhui¡¯s racing heart. Stopping it instantly. Every last ounce of blood drained from the newly-formed void and essence of fire burned seven pounds of once beating muscle into a pile of meaningless ash. The fire spread outwards consuming all that was Rhui Enchan.


    In one short moment, it was as if Rhui had never existed. Only space and dust before Mezir. The Fernwick disguise grew ten times heavier on his body and he nearly lost himself to the point of tears, something that had occurred more often in the past week than in the last thirty years of his life. Fortunately enough, a distraction came forth from the shadows to his right.


    ¡°Fernwick?¡± She was breathless. Nearly hyperventilating. He didn¡¯t raise his head. The voice was clear enough for him to know that the plan must have really fallen apart at some point.


    ¡°Oh, my¡­ is that the lovely little Lili-Bon?!¡± Alone. Why is she alone? Where is Korrin?


    ¡°I need you to take me to Lord White immediately. There has been an attempt on my life.¡±


    Liar. Fernwick stood tall and faced countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso, his right hand behind his back as he bowed, slipping his dagger into the back of the armor. It was a good thing White¡¯s guard loved their capes. ¡°Then, yes, we must go to the Lord immediately!¡± She¡¯d only interacted with Fernwick once before, a planned event on Mezir¡¯s part, and didn¡¯t know his mannerisms well, which was a blessing as he was tired of playing the part.


    ¡°Yes. Good- ex- excellent. Let''s go, now! Where is he?!¡±


    Lili-Bon was entirely on edge and Mezir noticed a healthy supply of essence built up beneath her skin. She must have cast a huge amount recently, for even as dull as the glow had become, he could still see the individual trails of multicolored residue throughout Lili¡¯s arms. Given the fact that she could obviously cast a considerable amount and seeing how fragile her mental state had become, how hectic she was likely to be, and severely she may react to any missteps, Fernwick only bowed and stood beside the doors to White¡¯s Lab.


    ¡°Right this way, Lady Lili-Bon.¡±

 Chapter Forty-One

    Chapter Forty-One


    Ta¡¯K held Amberosin¡¯s forearm tight in his framework hand but where skin met metal she didn¡¯t feel the cold of steel or barrenness of obsidian and flint. Amberosin felt warmth akin to the touch of flesh. He has to be casting it, warming his hand on purpose. But is that for my sake or his own? Either way, she was amazed he had even considered such a thing while rushing up a pitch-black stairwell behind an old woman who was chuckling to herself as if the darkness had finally driven her insane.


    Ta¡¯K is legitimately kind, to me, at least.


    Amberosin figured Des may, rightfully, possess different opinions on the man since he apparently slaughtered her husband, and a few others, at the southern gate. Amberosin remembered wishing him well as she saw him enter Blancana and despite how much she liked Desinra and wished for her to be happy, knew she would do it again in a heartbeat. His luck had become her own, ultimately. He¡¯d saved her twice now since his violent entrance; once from death and once from total subjugation to the mass murderer who claimed to be her father. She wasn¡¯t used to being the damsel, never really needed to be saved by anyone before, or wanted it, and to be honest she wasn¡¯t quite sure she believed Lord White was her father. Amberosin had yet to even see her supposedly bleached white iris¡¯¡­ of course, since having the goggles removed from her eyes for the first time, she hadn¡¯t gotten a chance to see much... but Lord White did seem to have issues with telling the truth; he could easily have lied.


    No proof, no point in worrying myself to death over it. Right?


    Ta¡¯K suddenly picked up pace and nearly drug Amberosin behind him. Only then did she notice that Desinra had gone silent ahead of them. She was still there, Amberosin could see her dim light not even a full six steps ahead of them, though the woman and her light stayed in one place. Des was no longer chuckling. In fact, there seemed to be no sound at all in the stairwell, as if time had stopped all around them. Ta¡¯K let go of Amberosin a step behind Desinra and vaulted over the old woman where he disappeared into the starving maw of shadows further ahead. She hated being so unaware of her surroundings; so in the dark. Literally.


    Amberosin may have been effectively blind but that didn¡¯t mean she¡¯d lost all sense entirely. She knew from experience that if you wanted to be one of those who stayed alive on White¡¯s Noctra, you rarely sat idly by. This world moved too fast for those who hesitated. Amberosin may not have known what, though it was pretty obvious that something was wrong; something going wrong in Blancana usually meant you were privy to an unwelcome guest or occurrence caused by an unwelcome guest. Either way, it gave a pretty easy solution to one''s problems.


    ¡°Desinra, get yourself against the wall to the right and crouch low. Keep your eyes facing down into the darkness. I take it we are near the top, yeah?¡±


    Desinra muttered something too low to hear.


    ¡°What? Des? I can¡¯t hear you, speak up-¡± then she heard it. Desinra wasn¡¯t talking to her.


    She was praying, already looking at the stairs behind Amberosin.


    ***


    Ta¡¯K wasn¡¯t positive how much the old woman Des could see, as such, he couldn¡¯t be sure she had stopped for the same reason he vaulted ahead. They were nearing the door he¡¯d entered some time ago on his daring rescue, where he¡¯d promptly chopped off his own foot and nearly bled out like maimed game, and he knew two absolute facts about the world outside that door. Each of equal importance.


    First and foremost, outside of that door, everything was excruciatingly bright. He¡¯d never seen estorches with such a vibrant flame, in so many flickering colors, and not once had he ever imagined how much more intense white marble made every light. Whether or not it was something done to the precious stone by Lord White, he did not know, but the marble in White¡¯s estate reflected and amplified everything. Ta¡¯K didn¡¯t think either woman traveling with him would much appreciate being thrust into the blinding horror that awaited them and wanted to nullify the effect as much as he could.


    To that end, as he flew through the air and landed at the top of the stairwell, only a few short steps from the door, Ta¡¯K collected pockets of shadows about him, lulled the essence of darkness into a trance, and trapped the shadows around himself with a thin layer of air guarded by a second, thicker layer of his own essence. When the door opened to flood them with the bittersweet blessed rays of revealing light Ta¡¯K would be there to capture and bend the rays to his will, adjusting it until everyone could see comfortably. This technique was considered quite dangerous by most of Ta¡¯ teachings, though the basis for any worries were drawn from ancient Ta¡¯ lore, which he and Ta¡¯Jir had decided weren¡¯t the best place to go for factual data. Well, Ta¡¯Jir had decided, Ta¡¯K had only marveled at the implications and immediately sought shadows to bend around to his will. Thus far he¡¯d suffered no negative effects, though he did still refuse to let the essence of shadows and darkness into his own body in any way. Didn¡¯t allow it to touch his own life force directly either, just to be safe.


    Ta¡¯K was much more worried about the second fact about life beyond the door now behind him as he continued to draw in more shadows, slower now, so he could acclimate and expand the air-essence barriers in time. The second fact of life after crossing the threshold into White¡¯s estate was that two guards awaited them on the other side. One an ally- Mezir, disguised as Fernwick. The other a true White¡¯s guard who seemed kind, meager, and undeniably sickly. A non-threat. And evidently somehow related to making their escape easier, which he didn¡¯t quite understand. Something to do with the hierarchy of guards.


    Poor little Rhui.


    He¡¯d thought about sending a mental message down to Desinra to have her guide Amberosin up the stairs to the doorway, but looking down at her on the steep stairs below he saw that she had fallen to her knees in prayer, facing back toward the labs even further below. She spoke too softly for him to know what great spirit earned her reverence. Desinra sent her hands into the air as he stared down at her, looking almost like she was screaming into the darkness. Ta¡¯K strained to hear the old woman even though he could see now that she was sweating with her eyes set wide. She was screaming.


    Why can¡¯t I hear her?


    Amberosin was beside Desinra, one step down, and looked to be saying something to the woman herself. She seemed as confused as Ta¡¯K felt.


    Damn. I didn¡¯t want to resort to this¡­ it¡¯s going to take dubious amounts of effort.


    Ta¡¯K reached out to Amberosin with about four times as much willpower and mental essence needed to penetrate the average person¡¯s mind and still had to push against what felt like a solid wall directing everything back at him. Just like when he had healed her back in Schuri¡¯s shop. He¡¯d noticed it only after thinking upon the events later during his time at the fire alone but healing Amberosin had taken an inordinate amount of essence and strength. She¡¯d nearly drained all of the power and energy Noctra gifted to him only hours before on his rooftop escapade with Patri. It was as if there were some invisible shield battering him back the whole time. Ta¡¯K was certain it had to do with whatever made her appear as a void to his venerable sight. Amberosin¡¯s shield dropped no easier this time and he found himself hurtling loads of pure echo-essence towards her, something not easily done as it didn¡¯t separate willingly from other nearby particles. He made his message short and simple.


    Run. To me.


    Amberosin¡¯s head jolted in s short surprise but she shot up into the darkness ahead of her without any other hesitation. Her feet hit hard on the stone steps but he didn¡¯t hear them slapping on the wet stone beneath them. And he should be able to.


    I can¡¯t hear anything now, can I?


    A thick silence had formed around him suddenly, unnaturally heavy and scented with embers of oakwood, blocking out the sounds of both women in the narrow stairwell. Silencing the dripping of water from a leaky crack on the ceiling to his left. He¡¯d heard the drip-drip-drum of falling water when he vaulted into the air, he swore it.


    Amberosin was nearly to him now. Ta¡¯K¡¯s heart ricocheted off his ribs.


    Why can¡¯t I hear?


    Suddenly, without any warning screech of metal that should have accompanied the door behind him, light invaded the narrow tunnel of stairs and illuminated down another twenty steps past Desinra.


    There, shining brilliantly in the brightly reflected rays of the grand hall, was Lord White.


    ***


    Korrin couldn¡¯t remember ever having been in these tunnels before but somehow she felt entirely confident in her ability to traverse the humid darkness. She knew, indubitably, that a quaint corridor to her left would lead to a room across from where Lili-Bon entered the estate. She also knew taking the tiny detour would prolong her time hidden from Lord White¡¯s glorious abode. A place that had been her home for much of her life. The residence of her gracious, magnanimous, lovely Lord. All words she felt sick using to describe the man now.


    Focus on the mission Kori.


    Korrin¡¯s mission, according to Mezir, was only to follow, to keep a safe distance and observe; unless, of course, Lili ran to a White¡¯s guard or anyone else for help. Then, only then, was she meant to ¡°take action¡±, which in this case seemed to mean ¡°kill the snobby little bitch who stabbed me.¡± Korrin knew Lili-Bon and was keenly aware of how everyone else in the estate felt about the ¡®lovely little Lady¡¯. Most appeared to adore her in public, like their Lord White, but Korrin knew the truth, heard the whispers about ¡°Simple-Lil¡± from corners and shadows no one bothered to check. Korrin couldn¡¯t care either way. She didn¡¯t want to kill Lili-Bon, she didn¡¯t want to kill anyone¡­ but she was a sharpened tool, honed to do one certain thing. Korrin knew nothing else. Though, if she was both Korrin and Jorrick¡­ then some part of her did enjoy the hunt; found a thrill in the kill.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    Watching Lili-Bon make her way down the hall through a peephole in the walls Korrin started to feel increasingly sick. She had no idea if Jorrick was a broken part of her own mind or if it had been something cast and created by Lord White. Either way, Mezir needed her to eliminate Lili-Bon if it came down to it. He was using the tools at his disposal in the best possible methods. She couldn¡¯t blame him. Mezir was a smart man.


    Did I trade one Lord for another? Well¡­ yes, but at least this one is honest with me, right? Right. And I¡¯ve got Heria close by. As long as she is on my side I can¡¯t go wrong. I can still do wrong, of course¡­


    Korrin shook herself and counted out ten seconds as she took in sweltering stagnant air. It felt thick-hot in her throat and harsh-warm in her lungs. Breathing out cooled the trail of humid heat coursing through her body, though did little to stunt her building heartbeat, or stop sticky beads of sweat forming in every crevice of her body. Korrin¡¯s hand was shaking, her opposing stump wavered on each jagged breath, and it felt like her forearms were crystalizing in mutiny against her. Breathing wasn¡¯t doing a damn thing to help calm Korrin now. Korrin could hear herself gasping for air, though only felt the oppressive beating of her heart within her chest, weakening her legs with every horrid thud.


    Come on Kori, just a bit further now.


    She¡¯d always suffered fits of rigid anxiousness throughout her life, but could usually compose herself during moments when it truly mattered, at a later time. It just so happened that now happened to be later, according to her intrinsic attacker.


    Fuck, Korrin! Focus! She thumbed the air-rope and thought of Heria. Smiled. Right. Enough time wasted. Enough! Her legs filled with sufficient strength to carry her onward. While Korrin¡¯s muscles felt as tight as a crack in stone, she did feel much better after thinking of her dear friend. A few more moments of flexing every muscle that would budge, and she was back in workable order, and in front of the door that would lead her into a room she willed with all her might to be empty. If she hadn¡¯t wasted too much time fighting her body for the right to move forward, Lili-Bon should be just across the grand hall; right next to White¡¯s Labs.


    A quick peek through a keyhole in the room, which was blessedly devoid of life, confirmed Korrin¡¯s suspicions. She couldn¡¯t get to Lili-Bon fast enough to stop her from reaching the guards that would no doubt be stationed in front of the stairwell leading to the labs. Even if she barely made it to the woman in time Korrin didn¡¯t think there was any possibility of defeating the guards. Lord White insisted it only be attended by Serpint¡¯s and their trusted understudies, which were essentially mini-Serpints. All trained to be ruthless. Relentless. Korrin feared her body may be too far locked up to be of any use in a fast fight and any fight with a Serpint would be a fast one; one way or the other.


    Sorry, Mezir. She¡¯s not worth dying over.


    She didn¡¯t like the thought of failing her first mission under Mezir¡¯s command, but she wasn¡¯t sure she liked the thought of being under anyone''s command, to begin with. Mezir seemed like a good enough man, but she¡¯d thought the same about Lord White. About his father. Korrin could feel the panic beginning to consume her from the feet up.


    None of this is worth dying for. Not to me. I need to get out, I need air- I need Heria.


    Korrin gave two quick yanks on the rope of air that was fastened about her waist to signal to Heria that she was heading back. ¡®Mission failed¡¯. She waited a few moments there in the empty, ornate room, which was likely some unused office dedicated to some long-dead noble she¡¯d never heard of, excruciatingly still. There was no signal back. There was supposed to be a mirror signal.


    What¡­ Heria you can¡¯t have forgotten already, could you?


    The Alta woman did have a penchant for forgetting things momentarily but Korrin knew better than that. Knew what the building chill in her stomach was. A chill that she would trade for a million days spent in utter rigid-anxious-fearful agony.


    Korrin tugged the air-rope again. Two more times, just as they¡¯d discussed. Again, she got nothing in return.


    Fuck. Fuck, no! Please Heria. Please give me something. Anything.


    Korrin started to tremble. Lili-Bon, Mezir, Amberosin, Ta¡¯K- suddenly, none of them mattered anymore. Just Heria. One more time, Kori. This time she gave one massive pull on the rope instead of two meager tugs and to her absolute horror, Korrin was met with zero resistance. Abruptly, Korrin thrust herself back into the thick, soggy dark-drenched tunnel she¡¯d nearly lost her mind to just moments ago. This time there were no thoughtful, deep, terrified ponderings on her position; no worry about Lili-Bon or the others she¡¯d only just met.


    This time Korrin cleaved through the darkness like a lit spark shot forth from the body of a hearth. Unheeded by a forced transition into worry ridden stone, she was unstoppable. As she ran Korrin sucked back all of her essence, twirling thread by thread the rope of invisible air into a small gale dead center in her hand. Korrin demanded the light to feed her sight and instantaneously Korrin¡¯s vision was perfect, not a stray shadow to be seen nor crevice to conceal. She didn¡¯t need the rope for guidance anymore, so she twirled and twirled it in her palm, consumed the solidified winds into a vortex, and watched as it sprang into reality.


    White always taught her not to cast using her own essence and Korrin was sure that''s what this was. She¡¯d never held light in her eyes before. Never thought of it. Didn¡¯t think of it. Just did it.


    The bastard was holding me back, but not any-


    Korrin nearly tripped head over heels when the end of the rope came into view.


    Heria¡¯s end of the rope. Heria¡¯s end of the rope was soaked in the deepest red Korrin had ever seen. She cast the gale with her hand spread wide behind her, propelling herself back through the length of the tunnel within minutes. Korrin was sure she failed to breathe the whole time.


    I¡¯m fucking flying. Is this how Mezir and Ta¡¯K feel? Legends. This is how Legends feel.


    Korrin¡¯s surprising elation trickled out as soon as it had sparked; midday''s light tore through the square threshold of the tunnel that stood wide open and skewered her with humbling worry.


    All that was left outside was a dried puddle of blood. Already being covered with dirt.


    ***


    Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso had been through more than enough wretchedness in the past few days, all at the behest of Grand Lord Councilor White. She¡¯d played the sleeping maiden desperate for protection, she¡¯d been the hidden dagger and struck a man she greatly admired; all at the will of Lord White. Worst of it all, Lili-Bon had stumbled through the murkiest, darkest, most inconveniently laid tunnels for a good hour or two and had embarked on the trek completely nude beneath her frilled skirt. She was cold, tired, and not anywhere near so clean as she needed to be to function on a normal day.


    Lili-Bon was grateful to have come across Fernwick.


    The man had a natural musk nearly as pungent as her own wilder scented body, looked like he was going to fry into dried meat at nearly any moment, and was obviously constantly drunk. But he was kind. And obedient. Lili didn¡¯t pretend to feign any idea about why Fernwick had been crouching and staring at the wall before she arrived, didn¡¯t have the time to care about that or his mysteriously missing partner.


    White¡¯s guard patrol in pairs- stop.


    Lili-Bon felt like there was an itch in her mind, one she longed to scratch, an inkling she¡¯d dived into in search of logic and truth countless times before. An impulse Lili had never once ignored. Until then.


    ¡°Shift Captain Fernwick¡­. Thank you.¡± Am I shaking?


    ¡°Not a problem, Countess.¡± Fernwick held the door in his hand as he bowed. His free hand held a flask.


    ¡°Do we have any of the spectacles?¡± Does it matter? White is down there. Go! He will keep you safe! They¡¯ve got to be close behind!


    ¡°Uhm. No, ma''am.¡± Fernwick¡¯s cheeks flushed, eyes shot back and forth, embarrassed. ¡°This is my first night on an estate job, I don¡¯t know much about the inner workings of it all yet, I¡¯m afraid.¡± He scoffed and shook his head, ¡°To make matters worse, my commanding officer ran off with some piece of¡­ uhm¡­ with a lovely little miss who thought his armor was mighty fine.¡±


    Ah, that explains it. ¡°Hah, no matter. Can you help me by casting some light?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely Countess Lili, step right in and I¡¯ll light the place up!¡±


    ¡°Fantastic. This is much appreciated Shift Captain. You¡¯ve no idea what I¡¯ve been through these last few days.¡± Why am I babbling so much? Pull yourself together. You can break down after you¡¯ve found Lord White. Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso curtsied and felt a wave of normalcy begin to pass over her once more. The sweet, sweet warmth of the known, the tried, and true. The traditions. She revered them.


    Straightening her back and walking as if she were dressed in a splendid silken masterpiece with her hands folded before her Lady Lili-Bon walked into the immediate darkness. No light yet made it past her feet, just past the threshold, but Lili-Bon walked forward until she felt the stairs and stopped. The shadows seemed thicker here, more concentrated.


    Where the blazes is Fernwick with that light? ¡°Captain?¡± Her mouth moved. She thought the words. She breathed them out. Her lungs and vocal cords vibrated, undulated in perfect unison, but she didn¡¯t hear a thing. Not normal. Not logical. Entirely terrifying. There is positively no way I¡¯ve gone deaf so instantaneously, is there? ¡°Fernwick?¡± Just another soundless, mouthed word.


    Lili-Bon spun around hoping to find her drunken, sun pruned, obedient knight in white armor. Praying that he would make some crass, crude joke, as he was known to do, and she would hear it. Legends¡­ never thought I would want to hear one of his grotesque tales. She supposed that should be funny, might have been, if she¡¯d had the time to think it through. When Lili-Bon turned, averting her eyes away from the concentrated cloud of darkness, she was met with a glimpse of blessed light cascading in through the threshold from around the sides of Fernwick¡¯s shaded visage. Just a glimpse, however.


    Then darkness. And light. Then darkness again. Flickering like a dying flame until she hit a swathe of absolute, concentrated shadow. No time to think about it now, it was just happening too fast. The shadow burst, or more, Lili-Bon burst through the shadow and flooded light into the tunnel below.


    She saw the man then, holding the shadow about his body at the apex of the stairs. Then she saw the ceiling. Infinite black that only gave way a few feet above those situated about the stairwell. There was a woman, a young woman, just about at the shadow man¡¯s side. More endless black ceiling. Another woman laying out across the steep steps bowing in utter subjugation. One last turn to look into the eternal void and suddenly she was back on the stairs.


    Rolling down, down, down, until she finally stopped. Right at the feet of her savior, Grand Lord White. Thank the Legends you found me, my Lord. I was so scared.


    So, so scared.


    Then, there was nothing.

 Chapter Forty-Two

    Chapter Forty-Two


    The sepia glow of Solas entwined with Luna¡¯s pale lavender rays in their usual midday waltz. Deep violet flower blooms nearby suddenly became more akin to a soft cerulean blue when Solas gained ground, faded back to violet in Luna¡¯s sweet rebuttal. Noctra was just a speck beneath their willowy dances, tests of faith, and love to one another. Inconsequential. That was exactly how Heria felt standing out in the Wilders as the two moons matched each other''s steps far above her. Inconsequential.


    Unimportant, Heria. Just like meek little Helena when it came time for athletics; always picked last, always given the least important position. Inconsequential, little ole me. Korrin. Mezir. Ta¡¯K. Amberosin¡­ they¡¯re all actively doing something¡­ I¡¯m just holding a rope. I¡¯m just standing here hoping they all make it back alive, hoping that they at least find news of Ragoth¡¯s fate. Holding out hope and onto a rope. Pathetic.


    Korrin had been gone for over two hours already. Their master cast air-rope started to go slower and slower until eventually, it stopped moving altogether. Heria thought that would mean some relief for her hands, but somehow, they¡¯d only started to hurt more. The rope was constructed with moving currents of air beneath a thin layer of essence, after all, and Heria could feel their vibrations humming against raw gashes on her thick palms. She found herself wishing she knew how to cast onto others'' essence, like Ta¡¯K. Heria would abandon her physical self to ride the essence of their tether and check on Korrin in a heartbeat. Even if it meant never getting back to herself.


    Not knowing was killing her but just like with Ragoth, she could only wait. And hope. And cry, which she did, silently. Heria battled ferociously with herself over whether or not to give two quick tugs on the rope,¡± come back?¡± Even if Korrin only sent back a solid, solitary, resounding yank to indicate she wouldn¡¯t be coming back just yet, it would ease Heria¡¯s mind.


    But then I could go from simply being inconsequential to the team, to becoming detrimental. What if Korrin is battling Lili-Bon? Can¡¯t imagine it would be much of a fight, but still! If Ragoth dies, I¡­ I may already be in danger of being cast out as is. Aside from Korrin, these people do not know me. Based on my looks and prior associations alone¡­ Why would they want to?


    Mezir saw her as a weapon to be used, that much was clear. She imagined everyone in their group had already been designated a specific purpose in his mind. The man was simultaneously a stupefying degree similar to his father, and the exact antithesis to Lord White and all he stood for. An enigma.


    A Legend. Rope holder. Ah, Heria was growing tired of her own company.


    Luna was dominating in the battle-like waltz between both moons by the time Heria heard something snapping through entire trees like they were simple twigs in the Wilder¡¯s to her left. Something massive. Her eyes instinctively flicked to the fresh puddle of blood at her feet and Heria began to shuffle up dirt in order to hide her scent as much as possible. She wasn¡¯t going to let go of that rope, she needed both hands to cast more air-thread, but she¡¯d fight like crazy with the rest of her body if it came to it. Heria really did not want it to come to that. She held her breath, concreted her focus, and scanned her surroundings.


    There were no shadows darting through the thicket of trees and undulating vines that hung down from high above. Nothing at all. Except for the thriving, breathing, living¡­ everything. Everything down to the underbrush, to the dung, trampled into the tunnels of vermin below, was teeming with life. With variety and vitality, humankind could never hope to know. Even through Heria¡¯s prey like alertness, she was beyond humbled by all that she saw. Enthralled to the point that she found herself wishing she could drop the rope and disappear into the unknown, into the jade sea of bark and stone that consumed Noctra. It was only a brief thought, one to distract her from the tension that nestled in Heria¡¯s spine, but she had never felt more guilty.


    I could never let go. Not of Kori. Not now. No. Hold your rope Heria. Hold your hope. It''s all you¡¯ve got left.


    She squeezed the invisible rope in her hands so tight that it tried to thread into her skin, she swore, it tried to meld with her flesh- at least it burned severely enough that she believed it would forever remain engorged in her palms. One breath at a time her heartbeat''s tempo began to climb. It was silent all around except for the continuous crashing of massive trunks and shattering of age-old bark. No crying animals or maimed beasts, no sentient plants left to wail, they¡¯d all left long ago, it seemed. Heria longed to know how they knew, but it was too late for that now. An orchestra of destruction circled around her. While she saw no felled giants or trampled bushes, Heria knew it was getting closer. She only wished to see it before it was upon her. Not knowing would kill her, she was sure.


    When the crashing stopped, Heria thought her wish was going to come true, that the beast or deity of the Wilder¡¯s would reveal themselves, that she would at least know her predator. Heria suffered no such luck.


    Luck and wishes are for children and those unable to reach their goals themselves. Is that a quote from a Slib volume, or something Lord White said? Ugh. Definitely White. That prick. She¡¯d escape his clutches and still couldn¡¯t manage to truly get away from him.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    Heria almost forgot how gruff her teeth made her sound, how much she hated the resulting tenor. Talking to Korrin always made her forget, though only because sweet, petite little Korrin acted like it wasn¡¯t there. Heria couldn¡¯t expect the same of others.


    ¡°Oh, right. I know I probably look and sound¡­ aggressive, but I promise, I won¡¯t hurt you. I¡¯m just waiting for a friend.¡±


    Heria was really banking on the creature, or creatures, being sentient enough to understand her. She figured since they¡¯d yet to attack, chances were pretty good. Wild beasts, trained hounds, even messenger falcons, and sparrows; damn near no untamed animals reacted to Heria well.


    Kind of like Amberosin. Korrin would have thought that was hilarious, despite her entirely random affinity for the young woman. Heria smiled. She¡¯d smile at the thought of Korrin happy with anyone. So long as she was happy. The grin sent a sharp underfang into her cheek, colored it red with a mock laugh line. She¡¯d smiled so much the past few days she was worried it would scar extremely deep, no matter how much she healed it, but somehow¡­. It didn¡¯t matter much. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Uh¡­. Can I see you? Just, ya know, for curiosity''s sake?¡±


    Once more, no one, nothing- not a damn thing emerged from behind the malachite green veil which encircled her. Heria¡¯s palms, now crusted with blood from her unhealed wounds, suffocated the invisible rope in her hands until she wanted to belt out in unadulterated agony. A concoction of pain and worry tensed her shoulders and transformed her dark-brown leathery knuckles into the second most ominous shade of white she¡¯d ever laid eyes on.


    Breathe Heria. Remember how you look to others, how dangerous, how monstrous you appear. Speak softer. Stand looser. Don¡¯t spook them. Whatever is out there isn¡¯t just some drunken asshole in the guard¡¯s quarters. Dreadbeast, Derafae, Wilder-folk- the plants alone out here are much more powerful and dangerous than your average person, An average person could even get lucky and kill a great one, odds are against it¡­ but why bet on them here? You are the rope holder here. The weakling who can only hope. So breathe.


    She closed her eyes and inhaled, a quick count of four, just to relax those tight shoulders, to ease her smelting-iron grip. Better. Much better. The pain in Heria¡¯s hands receded only slightly but it was enough to curb the agony and worry substantially. Now it sat gingerly against her palms, as light as air itself, though sturdy as full force gale. She hoped. Heria hoped ceaselessly, holding on to her rope of wind with eyes closed, far too deep in an unknowable jungle, untamable land of Legends. She hoped; and more importantly, she listened.


    What Heria had mistaken as silence following the awful, unseen crashing of bark covered colossus¡¯ was no silence at all, just very deliberately quiet rustling. As if the leaves themselves were whispering on their own hallowed winds, nigh imperceivable to her ears. There were no rushing footfalls or sliding bodies to be heard, but something was absolutely moving with purpose. Closer. Closer still as she tried to discern which direction it came from.


    Everywhere. It''s everywhere! She kept her eyes closed. Closer. Closer. Closer it came. She could hear what sounded like young bark groaning in a balmy storm and¡­ breathing. Heria opened her eyes just as the world disappeared. No beasts. No moons. No wilders. No trees. No Noctra. No Korrin or Ragoth. No rope. Only darkness, as if she had never opened her eyes, to begin with.


    Accompanied by a crippling, stagnant silence.


    ***


    Korrin stared down at the ground where Heria had been when she left. She couldn¡¯t keep her eyes off of the dried blood. It didn¡¯t help that every inch of the Wilder¡¯s around looked exactly the same to her. There was no way for Korrin to tell if a gap in the foliage was from Heria¡¯s body or some beast that made a daily trek. She¡¯d only tracked in cities, save for when she tailed Ta¡¯K, and at that time there was no need to forage for survival really or track anything, Korrin had simply mimicked the bandaged man¡¯s actions.


    Ta¡¯K had torn out a huge leaf from a tree to form a shelter, she did the same ten minutes later. He killed an animal to eat, said a prayer over the body, and cooked it using some essence and a few twigs. Korrin, eventually, found herself able to hunt down small animals with ease after copying his techniques, and cooking was nothing new to her, so she¡¯d nearly flourished, despite how much she hated it. Looking back now though, she was sure she hated White¡¯s estate more.


    Out here, she could breathe.


    Alright. Okay, Kori. You can do this. What would that bandaged fuck do now? Likely he¡¯d just sit down and ask Noctra real nicely for some help, which she would oblige without hesitation. Wonderful, mystical, majestic bastard would probably just have Noctra scoop him up close to her earthen bosom and transport him to where he needed to go. Korrin knew her animosity mainly stemmed from jealousy and anxiety, but something about the thought was nagging her. He would just sit down, wouldn¡¯t he?


    Korrin sat. An action she barely remembered enacting. She was standing and then sat. No thought. Is it possible my jealousy is really admiration? Korrin smiled and shook her head. Whatever it is¡­ it just may help me out a little. Alright¡­ tune in to my inner Ta¡¯K. No talking. I¡¯m going to cross my legs and close my eyes. I¡¯m going to let myself feel Noctra flowing in one arm and out the other¡­. I¡¯m- shit does he cast when he does this? Ah fuck.


    Korrin tried her best to mimic Ta¡¯K¡¯s meditation that she¡¯d seen over a thousand times from her various perches, coves, shadows, and bushes over the course of the past year. When she had thought Jorrick was there, that she was a loyal legionnaire to Lord White who was none other than her knight in shining white armor, Korrin believed Ta¡¯K was senseless. Always sitting. Always praying over kills. Petting things around him like there was no danger of them melting, eating, or clawing his face off. Now though, she realized, he was the opposite. In a world that had eradicated and erased his people, he proudly, openly shared his bonds and attachments to them; Korrin found this especially impressive since she now knew that he¡¯d known she was skulking around behind him at some point.


    He was always himself¡­ at least, the part of himself that he knew. Hm.


    Korrin opened her eyes and relaxed her back and legs. She wouldn¡¯t sit that way naturally, so straight-backed and rigid. She uncurled her legs, leaned back, and looked around her seeing if the perspective from down lower gave her anything. Truth be told, it helped to calm her greatly, until her eyes found the puddle of dried, dirt-caked blood once more, just out of arm''s reach. Korrin drug her ass across the ground to move closer. I wouldn¡¯t be silent either. I like to think out loud. ¡°What the fuck, Heria.¡± Her hand barely floated over the top of her friend¡¯s crimson waste and a chill shot down through Korrin¡¯s spine. ¡°Oh. So¡­ if essence somehow deals with emotions and life force and¡­ stuff.¡± She let herself touch the tar-like mush of blood and grime, willed some essence into it, and closed her eyes. ¡°Heria? Heria, can you hear me?¡±


    There was a tingle, a response through her essence, but she didn¡¯t know how to read it. ¡°Fuck, come on! Find Heria! Take me to Heria! Now¡­. please.¡± Korrin didn¡¯t know when the tears had started but they sure were not going to stop now. ¡°I¡­ I just want to know that she''s okay!¡± Imposing all of her will on her essence, the essence of the blood, and on Heria, wherever she may have been, she demanded that they connect. That they share senses. That they do anything.


    She heard the gasp of fading essence. She¡¯d cast too much at once for her abilities and it was all gone. ¡°Fuck. Heria..¡± Korrin looked around her, from left to right, begging the tree, the ground itself, to part and reveal her path. ¡°Open up to me damn it.¡± Her sobbing caught in her throat and pitched her forward into a coughing fit. Retching onto the ground in dry heaves and spilling only snot and tears onto the soil, she barely heard a quick shuffle over her own myriad of noises. Like a gust of wind, she just couldn¡¯t feel. Korrin wiped her eyes and looked at the leaves above and around her in all directions.


    ¡°There is no wind, so then what-¡±


    And then, the ground rose up in four parts around her and swallowed Korrin whole.

 Chapter Forty-Three

    Chapter Forty-Three


    There was once a time when Mezir and Lili-Bon trained for battle, read poetry, wrote dissertations, and ventured out into Noctra together. They were as cohesive a team as one could have hoped to find. Lili was absolute shit at all things combat related and Mezir¡¯s lack of compassion left him unable to strategize as efficiently as he desired, so she used him, and he used her. She relied on his strength and Mezir relied upon Lili¡¯s supposed compassion. And they¡¯d been happy. Enough so, that he remembered them very nearly exploring each other¡¯s teenage awkwardness together, though she¡¯d stopped them. Told Mezir to save himself for someone he actually loved.


    What happened to us? Am I to blame? Is this because I left her behind? Because I chased Allicena to the ends of Noctra and revolted against my father? On her advice?!


    Mezir stood at the threshold of the stairwell¡¯s entrance with his metal arm exposed through the guise of Fernwick. The arm shook, rattled, and raged.


    No. No, this is on her. On father. Not on me. Not me! I can¡¯t believe I had to kill Rhui for you! You traitorous bitch!


    He¡¯d not even tried to stall the fury this time. Regardless that he had chosen to bring Lili-Bon along of his own accord, which he knew White somehow orchestrated, regardless of Korrin¡¯s absence and Ta¡¯K¡¯s evident failure; all the blame rested on Lord White and his precious little Lili-Bon. They would pay the price. They needed to pay the price.


    For Ragoth and Heria. For Korrin. For Ta¡¯K and Amberosin.


    As Mezir¡¯s metal arm shot out and formed a blade of swirling obsidian essence that leaked from its many gashes and gaps, he was certain of the justice in his actions. Conversely, he was also entirely aware of the joy that he felt knowing how much it would hurt his father.


    The instant Countess Lili-Bon Vin Dreso turned from the unnatural darkness before her, Mezir severed her head with his blazing blade of embers and sent the shocked, opened mouthed visage of vengeance enacted, soaring away. He had not even thought to take a second to really look at the stairwell, to peer through the thick shadows strangely concentrated just before the first step. Mezir hadn¡¯t noticed the tense scene playing out only mere feet beyond his perception. When Lili-Bon¡¯s head passed through the shadow, however, Mezir became aware of everything- everything he should have seen moments before.


    All at once, Mezir realized his error.


    Shadows parted and frayed like weathered fabric as Lili¡¯s decapitated mass tore through their delicate design, and they were there by design. Mezir could already see it in their unnaturally quick dispersal, could already hear the gasp of fading essence. Before the head even broke through to the other side Mezir saw Ta¡¯K with his arms outstretched trying desperately to regain control of all his tamed darkness, which Mezir had unwittingly dispelled. Ta¡¯K fell to his knees when all remaining shadows gave way and parted from his unseen barricade. He was shaking profusely as if chilled to the bone. Lili-Bon¡¯s head soared high above the first few steps and Mezir spotted Ta¡¯K¡¯s right leg, or rather, the lack thereof.


    I¡­ I completely forgot he was injured. I¡¯m so sorry Ta¡¯K.


    Lili was just beginning to pass over the sixth and seventh steps, reaching the apex of her journey upward, when Mezir spotted Amberosin. The young woman was still dressed the same as the last he saw her a few nights prior, though, Amberosin¡¯s skin looked exponentially cleaner. Pristine, he might say. Mezir was not surprised in the least to see that underneath all the muck and grime that a hard life generally entailed, she was just as beautiful as her mother. Mezir knew, however, that Amberosin¡¯s hands covered eyes just as ghastly and monstrous as his own. It was the same with all of White¡¯s children.


    Almost exact replicas of their mother¡¯s, save for their colorless eyes.


    Amberosin¡­ to have caused you such pain and confusion. For lying to you. I am sorry.


    Lili-Bon¡¯s head began its descent in sync with the increasingly vivid rays of light spilling in from the estate¡¯s grand hall and Mezir saw as it rolled forward twice through the air and passed only a few feet above someone bowed entirely flat against the steps, facing away from Mezir and the others. She didn¡¯t see the head fly above her and thanks to Mezir¡¯s blade searing closed Lili¡¯s wound no blood splattered down onto or around her. Still, when the woman rose a fraction of a second later and turned enough for him to see her mouth, Mezir swore she was screaming.


    Mouth open, jaws spread far enough that the skin of her cheeks pulled taught beneath aged skin, her head thrown back with sweat spilling off of her chin- she was screaming. Mezir just couldn¡¯t hear. He couldn¡¯t hear anything. The only other time he¡¯d experience such a thing in his life was on the field of battle, surrounded by the violent intent of friend and foe alike. Something he¡¯d attributed to his need to focus on survival during combat but this was different, even then he¡¯d heard the clanging of steel about him, his own breathing, and that of the men and women around him.


    This silence was thick. Impenetrable. Absolute.


    Though Mezir could nary hear a thing, his mind filled in the gaps as well as it could. It omitted the woman¡¯s scream, no idea what she sounded like, to begin with, but clear as day he could hear Amberosin yelling, ¡°fuck, shit, damn cock-¡± as she covered her eyes and hid from the invading light. Even being too far up the stairs to actually discern any sound from it, his mind made resounding thump-thumps when Lili-Bon¡¯s head rolled into the veiled darkness below. He imagined about seven thump-thumps, seven stairs, and was content to let the head fall into obscure, unknowable silence for however long it damned well pleased, but the light was still growing. Continuously filling the dark chamber and abysmal stairwell with rays of reflected estorches from the grand hall.


    Mezir briefly considered closing the door and shrouding them all once more. None would notice Lili¡¯s head, he could cast flames about the body, avoiding any uncomfortable questions, and they could escape. Not to mention it would definitely help Amberosin navigate her own way. Though, when Ta¡¯K¡¯s gathered shadow finally gave way completely, not even a full minute after Lili¡¯s passing through it, Mezir froze. For the second time in his life that he could recall, Mezir De Blancana felt a physical chill beneath his skin that clamped about his muscles and held him in place. The first time, he had been but a child, terrified by Lord White standing in the corner of his room in the middle of the night. He¡¯d woken to relieve himself and had done just that. Immediately.


    This time, however, it was much worse. This time, lives were at stake.


    Light cascaded down the last available stairs before the curving wall blocked out anything but the slightest of rays and revealed to Mezir the greatest horror he¡¯d ever seen, and the list of horrors he¡¯d known was not a short one. The light first fell where Lili-Bon had disappeared and given Mezir¡¯s mind some sense of reprieve from her thought. Multitudes of rays brilliantly shone on a steep step, a good ten away from the wailing woman, and taunted him with the impossible. On that step, dead center, sat Lili-Bon¡¯s severed head, angled so that it shot a glare overtop of the others strewn about the stairwell in their own disarray, and landed with a heavy accusation cast upon Mezir.


    Just a piece of a corpse. A corpse you knew. A corpse you made. But a corpse nonetheless. The guilt is your own, now move so you can deal with it on your own time! Legends¡­. I sound just like Stins, don¡¯t I?


    Mezir could handle the guilty glare of a dead friend, had done so on more than one occasion, he was overreacting because of the setting, because of the others so obviously suffering before him- yes, yes, the others. Focus there! Focus-


    Light inched only a few steps further down before its silent invasion was complete and focus Mezir did on. Set just behind Lili¡¯s lonely head directed his way, was a glaringly bright white shin guard. Behind it, he could see a cape draped about the ground.


    Father!


    Mezir shot down the stairwell with the force of essence propelling him from behind with enough power that he knocked Ta¡¯K down, caused Amberosin to stumble a step back, and made the wailing woman turn to face the light completely, all in a matter of seconds. Again, the light revealed to Mezir the error of his methods. His impulses. His actions. So close, passing just above her, Mezir could see the woman¡¯s eyes. Where an iris full of color should be he saw only glittering lights, like a thousand, impossibly minuscule mirrors dancing about in confined chaos. By the time he¡¯d passed over her, they were swelling, cracking, and bursting with clouds of black obsidian. His arm shook and he understood.


    His father was gone. Mezir had sprung headfirst into a trap, layered with purpose and seething with ingeniousness, and endangered them all. He shot through the dark where Lord White¡¯s apparition had been when he jumped, where only emptiness met his arrival and heard an audible *pop* and willowy gasp before being bombarded with the horrid sounds of consequence.


    Screaming, growling, echoed cries of distorted torment, and other agonies of all degree melded into a single noise that escaped the woman who had been wailing in unnatural silence. He¡¯d been able to do a quick turn and land with his back against the stairwells nearby wall, essence rushed to his neck and head without a thought, protecting what was most important; but the sound left him visibly shaken.


    The vitals, thanks.


    Mezir¡¯s arm rattled independently in response.


    Right.


    He steeled himself and faced the stranger with the mirrored eyes and saw that the clouds of black he¡¯d spotted before had turned into malignant bulbous sacks that protruded from the woman¡¯s sockets. The sacks writhed and slammed one way, then the other, sending her from one narrow wall to the other with enough purpose that she began bleeding by the second impact. Behind and above her Mezir could see Ta¡¯K had already risen and was standing in front of Amberosin with his cloak thrown about her head.


    Good job kid, now-


    The sacs burst open and spilled a frothing obsidian mass that fell upon the still screaming woman, silencing her once and for all. Chaotically protruding about itself in all directions the writhing blackness formed a cocoon of sorts around her and began pulsing like a mother¡¯s stomach when a baby hiccups in the womb.


    Enough with this!


    Mezir shot forth and drove his blade burning red with heat through the center of the giant obsidian cocoon aiming directly for where the woman¡¯s heart should be. Upon impact, the gooey black mesh fell all around them to the floor, void of all sentience or purpose it may have had before, and on the end of Mezir¡¯s blade was a frail old woman with empty sockets for eyes.


    Ta¡¯K stood staring from the top of the stairs. Amberosin had silent tears streaming down her face. This was also part of the trap, he presumed, but it was a part he could deal with. Later. Mezir gently laid the eyeless woman covered in frothy tar on the steps and removed his blade before he stood and said a small prayer. Only partially to save face with Ta¡¯K. When he was done he walked up to the stair top and stood beside them both for a moment.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Come now, we¡¯ve got a war to win.¡±


    ***


    By the time they set up camp out in the Wilders, not very far from where they¡¯d camped before, no one had said a word. Not surprising with Ta¡¯K, all things considered, but Amberosin had never known Mezir to be a quiet man, not in her adolescence, and not since discovering him in hiding as Schuri; the man liked to talk. It was more than a bit worrying if she was being honest. Amberosin understood the solemn, heavy silence that hung over them as they¡¯d walked through the insufferably dark tunnels inside White¡¯s estate; even if they hadn¡¯t all just been scarred for life, making too much noise from inside White¡¯s walls would¡¯ve found them nothing aside from trouble. She¡¯d even partially enjoyed it, taking the time walking to work through how she felt about everything, mainly how she felt about Desinra. About Mezir killing her. About White, Amberosin¡¯s father¡­ about her eyes. There was a lot to work through really, and as luck would have it, it was no short trek.


    This is war, I suppose. A war she¡¯d never seen herself being involved in before.


    All of the cleanness Amberosin had acquired while in White¡¯s possession was replaced with sweat, musk, and muddied pebbles of dirt that fell all about them during their passage through the tunnels. She was equally annoyed at having lost that feeling of cleanness so soon and extremely relieved to feel normal again. Her kind of normal, at least. She washed in streams and during storms, she had no magical oils or lovely washcloths, so her normal was a bit¡­ dirty, she supposed. But it was welcome at a time when nothing else felt familiar.


    Ta¡¯K made sure to keep his hands at a comfortable temperature the whole way through the tunnels, just like in the stairwell. A few times he held Amberosin close enough that she could feel the heat of his body breaking through his wrappings and despite the already overbearing humid warmth of their surroundings, she felt drawn to it. Found herself slipping just a little bit closer to him on the next narrow section. Closer still on the last. Amberosin¡¯s heart had been pounding so hard by the time they found the exit that she was sure Ta¡¯K had to have heard it at some point. He only bowed low and allowed her to exit the entrance first. Behind her he cast some quick flash of light and when she turned to see the man¡¯s magic work all she found was a completely normal wall. The only discernible difference being a thin line of melded material.


    Did he seal it? Probably best, I suppose.


    She¡¯d not been able to gather the courage to ask about Korrin and Heria without Mezir breaking the silence and nothing else seemed important enough for her to venture forth first, so Amberosin waited. While she waited, she made sure to stay near Ta¡¯K. When night began to encroach upon them she moved closer to him still, setting her back against his side, and using his cloak as a cover. He simply eased himself backward enough that she slipped closer to his chest than his shoulder.


    They¡¯d both fallen asleep there, together, and when Amberosin woke he was still lying there beneath her, but she could tell he was awake because she could hear his heartbeat. It was steady while she was still but when she moved¡­ When she moved, it spiked, and he shifted to offer support for each shift or position. She moved once or twice before she opened her eyes and found his bandage wrapped face positioned down toward her.


    Of course, he knew you were awake. Idiot.


    Amberosin felt her cheeks blush but refused to react like some swooning young Lady resting on the arm of her savior, she¡¯d done a fair bit of saving him herself¡­ sort of. With help. She turned her head and stretched, popping her neck, back, and hip with one smooth motion. She could still hear Ta¡¯K¡¯s heart and heard it speed up even faster as the arch in her back reached its apex.


    Oh, my Ta¡¯K! Enjoying the show are we? Amberosin popped one eye open and caught his gaze floating across her form before he shot his entire head the other way and looked up at the trees, pointing at some nonexistent bird. She laughed harder than she had since she was a child. Ta¡¯K joined in her laughter with his own haughty, deep, real chuckles of his own. They were the only hint she had as to what the man actually sounded like. Much like the rest of the man, she found it very welcoming.


    Mezir rounded from behind a nearby swath of berry littered bushes and gave a single, loud laugh of his own, a bit more forced than either of theirs, she thought. His arms were full with multitudes of colorful, tiny morsels that made Amberosin¡¯s mouth water as much as she assumed Ta¡¯Ks had been a moment ago.


    Damn, that was a good one, should have said it out loud! Too late now though. ¡°Mezir! I thought you¡¯d left us out here to rot you heartless bastard!¡± She smiled and sat herself up with one forceful motion. ¡°Now come and feed me, big brother.¡± Mezir¡¯s smile vanished and a look of pure panic rose on his face, only for a moment, but she caught it. She¡¯d caught him off guard.


    ¡°Hah!¡± That one sounded more real than the last, and his smile seemed genuine now. ¡°I suppose that would be my responsibility now, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Mezir sat across from the two of them with his legs folded, back straight, and laid the collection of berries out across a cloth.


    The trio picked at the huge collection of tiny edible wonders quietly for a few moments, only sounds of enjoyment, belching, and more than a few breaks of wind from Mezir¡¯s side of the setting, which he promptly attempted to blame on Ta¡¯K each time. Unlike Ta¡¯K, however, the puffs of ass-air were not silent. It made for a few good laughs from each of them but was ultimately just a filler for the awkward silence that begged to settle over them. Amberosin hated those. She swallowed hard and licked her lips preparing to speak but as her mouth opened Mezir grunted and cleared his throat.


    ¡°I¡­ well I suppose now would be a good time for that explanation, yeah?¡±


    ¡°Hmmm, I don¡¯t, bro- lemme see if I can piece some of it together first?¡± She¡¯d not really meant to say anything but there was no stopping it now. Mezir simply smiled and acquiesced with a nod. ¡°Alright, so the gist of it all seems to be that you left, made some friends in Trallengard, came back, and lived as a few people in disguise while you¡­ scouted, I guess? Didn¡¯t want to reveal yourself to anyone too soon but you stayed close to Pat, kept yourself in areas where you could check in on your old pal, I¡¯d say. Probably me too, at some point. You creep.¡± Amberosin shot him a wink.


    He laughed and slapped his leg, ¡°Pretty good so far, pretty barebones and¡­ generalized, I¡¯d say, but not inaccurate. So, sister, why didn¡¯t I tell you?¡±


    Feels like he is testing me with this one. Seeing if I¡¯ll stay loyal, brother? ¡°Wasn¡¯t the right time? Didn¡¯t want to play your hand too soon? Doesn¡¯t really matter much now though, does it?¡± He seemed to like that answer.


    ¡°We must truly be of the same blood, Amberosin. You are quite magnificent!¡±


    ¡°But.¡± She smiled, less joy, less play in her face, ¡°I can¡¯t piece together what happened to Korrin and Heria. Or why you waited so long to act. Were you looking for something specific?¡±


    ¡°Honestly? I have no idea where they are.¡± Mezir¡¯s eyes went distant for a moment but a soft metallic hand on his shoulder from Ta¡¯K brought him back to them. ¡°I¡¯d love to stay and find them both but¡­ at this point, even if- Legends forbid- another one of us gets captured, there is no going back. No turning around. We must leave Blancana. We must leave the capitol today.¡± Mezir sat silent for a moment and she wondered if he was just going to ignore the second part of her question but after a deep sigh, he gave a half-assed grin. ¡°Truth be told? I originally came back to Blancana to spy on my- our, father¡¯s lab developments, but he made that impossible by moving all lab work into his personal laboratory, which you saw a tiny, tiny part of. And Ta¡¯K saw even less of.¡± He cast a rueful grin at Ta¡¯K, ¡°Sorry that I forgot about your leg. I would¡¯ve never sent you down there if I¡¯d remembered¡­ if I¡¯d paid more attention..¡±


    Ta¡¯K shrugged and waved his hand dismissing the apology. He tapped the stone foot he¡¯d crafted with a closed metal fist and gave a thumbs up.


    ¡°Thanks.¡± Mezir seemed a little less tense to her now, ¡° anyway¡­ I wanted to keep an eye on how he developed his auto-casters, or blasters, or whatever he has people calling them now. I don¡¯t know how much either of you saw at the last Ta¡¯Hun, I know you were both there and I hope that it wasn¡¯t near as much as what I witnessed, but some areas were worse than others- if genocide in one spot is worse than the other, I suppose- point being, around the center of the Venerable Plains our father,¡± Mezir forced a grin at Amberosin, seemed like he was getting more used to it already, ¡° sent in an elite force that he would bring back here, as his ¡®Serpints¡¯, to eradicate the most important of the Ta¡¯, their councilors, missionaries, their leader, the Ta¡¯ Uma. Ta¡¯K¡¯s father.¡±


    Mezir was quiet again but this time Amberosin had to reach forward and bring him back, Ta¡¯K went stiff. ¡°Uhm, right- sorry.¡± Cleared his throat again. Is he buying time? Thinking out how to say whatever is next. Is it that hard? That bad? Mezir..


    ¡° I was there with Ta¡¯ Uma in the large, centermost tent when we heard the odd rumbling roar of the sky shuttles. I¡¯d heard it before, of course, when they were tested years before, meant to transport resources across Noctra- or so we thought. Everyone else, however, was flabbergasted, aside from me, Ta¡¯ Uma, and his trusted guard, no one had any idea that something terrible was about to happen. Your father, Ta¡¯K, knew because I told him months before that White wanted the Ta¡¯ out of the equation. That he wanted everyone with power out, for good. Being the great man he was your father simply touched my mind and saw through to the truth. Even the parts I¡¯d left out. He never judged me for that. As you know, he believed it was no one person¡¯s place to judge another- ironic, being that he was the chief of all the Ta¡¯ tribes; judge of the highest degree. Still, he was a wonderful pan of principle.


    We immediately cast a barricade around the central tent. Using the soil, stone, and Ta¡¯ casters on hand we made a sturdy wall that entrenched us from all angles. The back was opened to let others in for safety and we cast downward, further and further into Noctra as more people poured in. We were in there for days, Ta¡¯K. We saved so many people.¡± Mezir let his tears fall freely. ¡°But our father, Amberosin, all of the horrible, awful, wretched things that he is- Lord White is an absolute genius. He plans every step, every breath, of his own, and everyone around him. After some of the things I¡¯ve seen, I¡¯ve often wondered if any of us have a will of our own, or if he¡¯s just pulling that many strings at once. Like a god.


    As such, he of course had a contingency for when we dug down. Your father and I were at the top of our burrow-city, just a massive pit of thresholds into corridors that extended into what we planned to be safe rooms. Somewhere for people to hole up. We hoped for more warriors the days after Ta¡¯ Hun, people who could fight once the days of peace were done¡­ but White was smarter than that. Smarter than us. He¡¯d started at the hunting grounds, where all the warriors and hunters of any discernible skill gathered to contest themselves against one another and Mother Noctra. When the Serpint¡¯s landed they immediately used their auto-casters to mow down everyone in sight. Just the press of a button and hundreds were gone. His force wasn¡¯t even that large, truthfully, but for every Serpint, there were two auto-casters. For every foot soldier, there was one. The ammunition didn¡¯t even depend on the reserves or will of the caster, just sucked it straight from Noctra and propelled it in short beams of light. Everywhere they stepped plantlife withered and died instantly. White got them all before they could even get close to us.


    As for our abode, White had placed the largest of his reserves just below where we stopped our manipulation of Noctra. If we¡¯d gone down another thirty paces we¡¯d have found them, possibly buried them all before they had a chance to do anything.¡± Mezir stopped to suck in a hard breath, even, steady, but harsh. A quiet sob. ¡°We were at the top when we heard the base give out, Ta¡¯ Uma and I, helping more people inside. Guarding them as they entered. We spent much of our time between the threshold of our protective dome and the scarred land outside and were used to just sending others through while we fended off Serpints left and right. By the time we had gone inside that night¡­ everyone was gone. Every child, mother, teller, painter, poet¡­ man, woman, Alta, Nomad¡­ all dead. Just sacks of meat to the men picking through their bodies, looking for trophies to present to their Lord. Your father, Ta¡¯ Uma¡­ he fell to his knees, pulled out his blade, and plunged it into his own guts. He looked at me then, he whispered to me his name, from before he became Ta¡¯ Uma¡­ I think so, so I would tell you, one day when you¡¯re prepared to hear it. He knew much more than I, unfortunately, about fates and destiny. About Noctra as a whole. About peace. I, unfortunately, went into¡­ a fit- a fit of rage, as you¡¯ve seen, though much worse than ever before¡­ or since, thus far. The Tainted¡­ the thing inside me, my arm, it came out in full.


    I killed every Serpint in there. Then I ran to Trallengard. Senseless. Like an animal. As luck would have it our other sibling, Stins Pyrell, a wonderful woman, was in Trallengard and the Trallens¡­ well they¡¯ve always hated my father so¡­ We amassed an army and made a plan. My part of the plan was to gather all the information I could for five years. Then go back. Easy enough job that anyone could do it but¡­ well, basically, I didn¡¯t trust anyone else to do the job and not fail terribly.¡± Made sense.


    ¡°Ever since then I wanted to know everything I could about those damn infernal machines. All I found out, in the end, was that most of the veterans who used them aged unnaturally fast upon returning home. I stayed because... I was waiting.¡± Mezir smiled, entirely sincere if Amberosin knew anything, and she believed she did. Though not what he was waiting for. So she asked.


    ¡°Waiting for what, Mezir.¡±


    He laughed lightly. ¡°For you two, of course.¡±

 Chapter Forty-Four

    When she moved, the walls shifted along with her and kept a fair distance, which served in keeping Heria confined but comfortable. Contained but content. Initially, of course, she was anything aside from content; the sudden darkness twisted Heria¡¯s guts and called upon her wild beast brain which promptly responded with fists full of essence, fear, rage, and confusion. Heria had gotten some new split knuckles as a result of her explosion of instinct, though not much else. Even as she cast to heal her fresh wounds, she cried, lamenting to herself.


    ¡°It is all too much. Too fucking much. I will die here, not because I have to but... Lords and Legends¡­ because I want to. I want to die.¡± Heria listened to the words resound, heard the quiver in her own voice. ¡°Or.. is it that I am not enough? Just too tired? Does it even matter? Do I-¡±


    Heria nearly shat herself when a chuckle, very clearly not her own, bounded about her in the darkness. It was everywhere, traveling around with nothing more than a thwip of air or a pop of shadow, about her all at once- and gone in an instant.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    Heria sat up straight, peered into the darkness around her. No spots or shapes seemed to be thicker than the rest, but some shadows seemed to be swirling. If I can see them swirling¡­ there had to be light coming from somewhere! A crack in her prison, perhaps? Heria yearned to hope for such luck... but she was no fool. No naive, young girl. Not anymore; not for a while now. Whoever had trapped her knew what they were doing. So why can I see the swirling? Where is the light source?


    ¡°There is no single source of light if that''s what you¡¯re thinking about. It''s all essence, my darkness, the shadows that I ride, and all essence holds light, apparently.¡± The voice was willowy, scattered as if cutting through fierce winds from afar, though Heria swore she recognized it. ¡°Stop thinking so hard, you¡¯ll hurt yourself if your brow furrows any further. Listen now Heria, for I must leave soon. I have much to do and not much time to do it, so I will not explain anything. Just listen.¡±


    Heria nodded. Whoever it was could definitely see her.


    ¡°Walk forward, slowly. Hold your arms out front and find the wall. Should only be about¡­ hm¡­ five good-sized steps for you.¡±


    For all Heria knew she could be walking and straight into the stranger''s blade, or worse. Plenty of things worse than death, but for some reason, she trusted them. It wasn¡¯t as if she had much choice. Heria did as instructed and found the wall. What had felt like solid stone to her fist before fell soft and malleable beneath her gently laid palms.


    ¡°It reacts. It¡¯s alive.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Exactly, and you just punched the ever-living shit out of it, so, what do you think your next move should be, Heria?¡± A soft chuckle followed and rode out of existence on the swirling shadows.


    It''s alive and you hit it, so¡­ Apologize, you brute. Like any decent person would. Heria leaned forward, pressing her forehead against her living prison¡¯s wall, and felt it push against her. It was pleasantly warm.


    ¡°I am so very sorry that I hurt you. Please forgive me for my fear and... impulses.¡±


    As if in acceptance of her apology the wall before instantly lit up in a lovely golden glow that traveled from somewhere beneath the ground Heria stood on and traversed up the walls of her personal little prison in glittering gold veins that sent light to every last corner. She could now see that the space around her was crafted entirely of what looked like compacted mud, moss, and an interlocking maze-like mesh of thick white-green roots. Small winged creatures with humanoid bodies and heads like the petals of a lunarose bloom darted back and forth high above her, spilling out from the top of the glowing veins just before the ceiling of her mud dome, and rained down upon her.


    ¡°What.. what are they?¡±


    She was talking to the voice from before. Heria got no response from the fading shadows, all but consumed by sparkling rays of light. It seemed that with the darkness, her unknown savior had absconded if there had been anyone there, to begin with. Without warning, the floating flecks of light with human-like bodies and insect wings buzzed around her ears and spoke in unison.


    ¡°We are servants of the great Mukeko.¡±


    ¡°Mukeko!¡± A small chorus repeated the name back before they resumed speaking in unison. ¡°They call us Lumifaen, though most of us prefer to shorten that title to Lumi. The masters asked us to retrieve you, so we did. Then, they asked us to test you, and we have.¡± A little naked creature glowing pure gold with large, buoyant breasts, and an astonishingly oversized cock flew before her and spun around twice. ¡°You passed! Much, much better than that other one, still raging like a madwoman, that one.¡±


    Mukeko¡­ why does that sound familiar? And what other one? ¡°Uhm¡­ thank you? May I leave this¡­ place, now?¡± Heria was careful to raise her arms slowly, giving the Lumi that darted about her ample time to move, and made a gesture that encompassed her mud-cell-dome.


    ¡°This is one of our terrinhives. A home of ours that we freely move beneath the ground, generally only to follow the Mukeko or carry out an order that they¡¯ve given. Sometimes, they have us use them as quarters for visitors, like yourself.¡±


    Do they abduct all their visitors? ¡°And¡­ they decide when I get to leave, I assume?¡±


    ¡°No, no, that is up to you, and the Lumi, in a way. We tested you, we judged you, we deemed you worthy. You may leave whenever you please. The Mukeko will be waiting, however, all Lumi believe an encounter with them to be a holy event, so we recommend preparing yourself.¡±


    For what? ¡°Uh¡­ prepare for what?¡±


    ¡°To witness your first true miracle, of course. To get a glimpse of paradise!¡±


    The Lumi¡¯s voices all melded into one as they reached her ears and despite the changes in tenor or volume from one spot or another, she could not tell a single one of them apart. They were everywhere. Heria could barely see the deep brown bud through the mass of their tiny bodies consuming all the space around her.


    Too close, way too fucking close, little ones. She dared not disrespect any Wilder-race with her own anxieties and social conditioning, and once more filtered her response to sound much kinder, ¡°I do believe I am ready now if you don¡¯t mind. I was actually very¡­ concerned with other matters when you all, uhm¡­ arrived.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Waiting on your allies, correct? We saw them come out of that tunnel not too long ago! First was the wild buffoon who is not doing so well in the testing as you have, and then much more recently, perhaps a day ago now- or what you consider a day- three more emerged from the tunnels. We followed them to their next campsite, a few Lumi still float around them now.¡±


    ¡°What? Seriously?¡± The prospect of Korrin and the others being nearby made her heart race. ¡°Can you- can the Lumi pass a message to them for me?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± Resolute. Resounding. Unified in tone, tenor, and purpose. Then the one floating before her spoke, alone. ¡°We may only do such things at the request of our lovely lieges, the Mukeko!¡±


    ¡°The Mukeko!¡± All the other Lumi said on cue.


    ¡°We are very sorry, but perhaps the Mukeko will oblige your request! They seemed very eager to meet you. You are ready, yes?¡± The lone Lumi once more addressed Heria without the choir behind him.


    ¡°Absolutely. Yes. I would love to meet them now.¡± I need to get whoever else is here, Korrin or Amberosin based on the Lumifaen¡¯s remarks, and get the hell out. Mezir said the ship would wait for two days and leave at the pinnacle of the second night. Tonight. When Luna rises highest. I need to work fast and smart. Don¡¯t forget how you appear, you scary fuck.


    ¡°Please.¡± Heria decided it best not to smile as the sight may actually have an adverse effect on her miniature golden glowing captors and scare them all away. Opting to soften her eyes as much as possible. Is it racist of me to assume they¡¯d scatter like insects? Well¡­ if I have to ask¡­


    ¡°Of course! Lumi, unfurl the terrinhive! For the Mukeko!¡±


    ¡°The Mukeko!¡±


    Mukeko? Where have I heard that word before? Or.. did I read about-


    Heria almost had it, just at the tip of her tongue, the front of her mind, when a crack like that of oak splitting in a thunderstorm stopped all thought. She felt like she was inside of a tree felled by a grand strike of lightning from above and had to cover her ears with massive hands just to keep from falling to her knees. Then in perfect synchronization four great splits tore forth from the base of the terrinhive¡¯s walls and opened the structure like a muddied rendition of a flower¡¯s blooming petals. As they fell the impact shook all of the trees, plants, and poor creatures within a good sixty paces at least, and nearly tossed Heria to the ground; luckily some of the Lumi seemed to have expected as much and had flown behind her, holding Heria up on a wall of pleasant light.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±


    ¡°Not us, them!¡±


    ¡°Mukeko!¡±


    Heria was fighting to see through the masses of dust and rubble that had taken flight when the terrinhive¡¯s walls collapsed all around her, still trying to force her eyes to adjust to the bright reddened rays of Solas above, and could see no one around her. Though she could hear something, something close- something coming from all directions, hidden amongst the dirtied mist-like rubble ridden veil, groaning like a young sapling caught in Noctra¡¯s gales.


    As the symphony of elastic saplings came closer, their shadows became clearer. The Mukeko¡­ I haven¡¯t heard that word! I¡¯ve read it! In Argonia¡¯s volumes¡­ shit, what did he say? Heria refused to close her eyes and miss any movements from the settling dust but her mind was separated. A part of Helena still alive deep within her tried desperately to remember what her idol had said about the people of the Wilders. It had always been her favorite section, Logs 0457- 0700: People of The Wilders, Great and Small. Helena conjured up all the words from that reading that she could and played them before her; Heria didn¡¯t feel she had the time to think for so long. In the end, she froze. Her mind was blank. Heria was without any semblance of a plan or understanding. Helena was buried once more.


    Mukeko¡­ Heria took a deep breath and closed her eyes. I am Heria, the animal brain that knows a threat when I see it. I am Helena, the vault, the prodigy. I am¡­ I am all of me. I can remember. I can!


    She could hear the wind slowing, knew that the dust must be settled, that they must be there, watching her. Heria couldn¡¯t make out any creaking or groaning wood so she had to assume the Mukeko had stopped moving. Still, she kept her eyes sealed.


    ¡°Uhm¡­ Miss? Are you alright?¡± Heria recognized the collective hum of the Lumifaen.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine. I am simply¡­ remembering.¡±


    ¡°Remembering what exactly?¡± Lumi was asking on their master¡¯s behalf, surely.


    Heria didn¡¯t answer. Didn¡¯t really hear the question. Her ears grasped the words and sent them straight to her brain, but she was too lost within her thoughts to understand the meaning. She wasn¡¯t scared or worried, however, because she had remembered. She remembered everything. Heria could feel herself sobbing as the complete memories of Helena Seires tore through her mind. She wanted to revel in her findings, to pick apart who she truly was then and there, but Heria was looking for one specific memory.


    Got it! Mukeko. A sentient, peaceable people, humanoid in shape and structure for the first two hundred years or so, though eventually, their skin does become more translucent than our own. They develop secondary eyelids that close vertically and very closely resemble the leaves of the Hubonari Sens tree found exclusively in Blancana. By their five-hundredth year, most have begun developing skin more akin to bark that creaks with every movement. If they choose to continue this path they will become a tree in the vast wilders within another four hundred years. They do have a choice to ¡®reincarnate¡¯ which is a highly interesting ritual but much of an aside at this point. The Mukeko also revere Alta, seeing them as deities of a sort, but that is also for another section. The most important thing to note for now is that their diet consists directly of materials and resources taken from Noctra. Soil, mud, rocks, bark, roots. Any and all things. Any. And. All. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Heria remembered it word for word as if the book was open right in front of her. She could feel her heart skittering and rushing as she realized that she felt whole for the first time since leaving for Stroma Labs. There was so much to explore. So much to mourn. It would have to wait, however, and Heria knew, she needed to open her eyes.


    Wait, wait¡­ what was that about Alta? They see Alta as-


    ¡°Blessed?¡±


    ***


    The more she punched the wall the closer it seemed to get, the more rigid it became. It shrank around her like concrete darkness and poured all the blood from her bursting knuckles back down onto her face. Korrin¡¯s heart began speeding against her own will the second Noctra rose to swallow her whole, as soon as darkness had enveloped her, she¡¯d started swinging. Kicking. Jumping. Screaming. And for good reason.


    Korrin heard Jorrick, laughing. Riding the shadows around her before he disappeared back into the recesses of her mind. His absence taunted her all the more because she knew he was there. She could feel him. She¡¯d noticed it shrinking, hardening against her incessant blows, but Korrin could do nothing to stop herself. The pain did not slow her. Her blood did nothing to weaken the following blows. Korrin¡¯s swinging fist did little to abate the panic that consumed her heart.


    Everything he did¡­. Was me. I¡­ oh, Legends¡­ gods¡­ no.


    Jorrick¡¯s memories had been seeping into her mind ever since Mezir saved her life and cleared White¡¯s blockage from her mind. Or essence. She wasn¡¯t really sure, though either way, it left and Jorrick¡¯s memories flooded in to fill the void. Awful memories. Horrible things that she had done, on top of the terrible things that Korrin had knowingly done in service of Lord White¡­ it was insufferable.


    So many dead. So many. And why? Because he asked me to. So¡­ didn¡¯t some part of me want to? I mean I did choose to ignore Jorricks¡­ tendencies so long as he directed them correctly. My tendencies, I suppose. In a way¡­. I accepted this, didn¡¯t I?


    Korrin felt a new torrent of scorching tears building and had no means of stopping them from flooding over. She was still punching. She heard screaming that sounded distant; it could have been her, or it could have been a ghost from her haunted memories. Korrin had no way of knowing. She wasn¡¯t sure she cared.


    Whether it was from the loss of too much blood or the ever-present darkness that suffocated and froze her mind, Korrin was not sure. She thought she was dizzy, light-headed, but when she sat still, the swaying stopped. Her heart raced incessantly no matter what she did and Korrin¡¯s body was attempting to lead a mutiny in her muscles once more. Every punch required more force, more intent, more purpose behind each individual blow. Every impact of skin on what felt like solid stone left her hands feeling more numb. Cold.


    The only burning or warmth of any type Korrin felt throughout her being spilled forth from her mismatched eyes and splattered against the ground at her feet. Splat is what she expected to hear when the teardrops landed, at least. In reality, it was more of a soft, nearly imperceivable, thump that met each drop of Korrin¡¯s downpour. Korrin¡¯s prison encroached on her so close now she could barely draw back her fist or stumped arm.


    Thump, thump, thumpety, thump. Her heart danced in her ears.


    Thumpety-thump-thump-thump. It sped and tried to drown out her thoughts.


    Thu-thu-thump-thumpety-thump-thump-thump. Korrin had already honed in.


    Her mind was waking the senses dulled by panic and fear, rousing the blood in her body to rush to the brain, not the heart- damn the heart! Korrin knew what she was hearing, despite her racing heart''s best attempts to cover up the outside world. If I¡¯ve got to fight my own fucking body, myself, to get out of this place, so fucking be it. She closed her eyes and welcomed the intimate darkness, the familiar nothingness every person can find behind their own eyelids. Korrin waded through the incessant beating in her ears and found the thumping she was looking for.


    Thump. Thump-thump. Thump. Thump-thump. Low like a beechwood snare.


    Thump. Thump-thump. Thump. Thump-thump. Rhythmic and metered.


    Thump. Thump-thump. Thump. Thump-thump. Korrin¡¯s heart matched the pace.


    Her hand only just stopped punching as she locked onto the rhythmic, metered, low-toned falls of her tears. Not a splat one would hear on marble, concrete, stone, or any other hardy material. No thud that revealed a flooring of oak or pine absorbing some shock upon impact. But a thump. A sound that spoke to Korrin of dirt, grass, natural ground, of things solid, but malleable. Breakable stuff that Korrin could easily manipulate; or could have manipulated if she¡¯d not wrecked her one good hand and stump on the walls of her confinement. She imagined she would have ample time though. She could cast and heal within a few hours. Then she could dig. Then she could get out and find Heria.


    Then?!  It didn¡¯t matter. Korrin¡¯s panic wouldn¡¯t get to her now. She had a plan. A foreseeable way out. A chance. She tried to feel around her feet with her aforementioned devastated hand and stump but neither was able to feel a thing so she set about healing them, reveling in the light blue-red glow emitting beneath her skin. While the essence worked through her wounds Korrin slipped off her shoes to confirm her suspicions with bare feet. She sobbed in relief when soft soil and grass relented beneath her toes.


    A chance. She slowly laid down, wary of the walls that had been so close before. Not as close as I thought, huh? Korrin stretched out so long as her limbs allowed and met no resistance. Maybe¡­ I really am losing my mind. Though maybe¡­ maybe I¡¯m finding it. Or piecing it together, at least. I guess healing does hurt sometimes. Her stump still ached on a good day from time to time.


    The thought brought Korrin enough solace that she nearly found herself drifting off into a sublime slumber. Drool was pooling at the corner of her mouth. She even heard herself snore! Alas, her mind would not relent. Korrin dug her toes into the ground for warmth, hoping to lull her consciousness away with further comfort, but found herself more awake and aware than ever before.


    Thump, thump, thump, thump. Her heart matched pace with something new.


    Thump, thump, thump, thump. She felt it thrumming against her toes.


    Thump, thump, thump, thump. Korrin finally understood. The walls had moved. They¡¯d reacted to her touch and responded to her emotions.


    Holy fuck¡­ It¡¯s alive!


    ***


    Heria opened her eyes and found a thin-framed creature with translucent skin that had lines throughout it like the veins of a leaf. It¡¯s body curved to show wide hips and the large breasts that typically belonged to females; humans and Alta females at least. Heria was in no position to be assuming the creature''s sex, gender, or, most importantly to her at the time, intent.


    ¡°Blessed?¡± The Mukeko asked once more.


    Heria looked at the woman-esque creature with as much sincere joy and compassion as she could muster. No smile. Do not smile, they may think the Alta are ¡®Blessed¡¯, but that doesn¡¯t mean they won¡¯t lash out in fear at your ugly mug. ¡°My name is Heria, thank you.¡±


    ¡°Blessed Heria!¡±


    The Mukeko around her exploded in unison, much like the Lumifaen had when first speaking to her in their transportable abode. Differing from the Lumi, however, almost none of the Mukeko looked the same; or rather, their appearances were so diverse that she couldn¡¯t spot two that looked alike.


    The Mukeko that addressed Heria looked nearly human, nearly normal. Beautiful and breathtaking enough that with the right clothing she would look like a womanizer¡¯s wet dream come true. It would just appear to be a pale foreigner from some unknown lands beyond the Shardlands. Even Heria stood out more than that on a daily basis in Blancana.


    Behind that lovely, woman-like Mukeko, however, there were thousands of creatures ranging from pale to translucent toned humanoids to what appeared to be trees in the making. At least two seemed to be gigantic wilder oaks in totality aside from the knotted roots at the base of their legs that they shuffled on. Birds and bugs alike came to live when that one shifted at all. Bark for skin here, moss for hair there, some looked to be made of stone, while others appeared to be living sculptures of mud. The only unifying features of the Mukeko seemed to be their affinity for green, gold, and pretty flowers. Lots of pretty flowers. That, and the fact they all of them over a certain age had the second set of vertical eyelids.


    Good ole¡¯ Argonia. Never known him to be wrong. Heria smiled and slit her cheek. Shit.


    The Mukeko before her noticed Heria scanning the diverse crowd and gave a soft smile of it¡¯s own before it reached out with a tender hand, five fingers and a palm that felt like human skin to Heria, and healed the cut on Heria¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°We Mukeko are vast in number and variety. Unified by our beliefs, and largely, our diet.¡± The Wilder-folk chuckled and stood tall, took two large steps back, away from Heria, and bowed. All Mukeko behind it followed suit.


    Heria caught her breath at the sight, unable to accept the reality before her. They bowed to her. Some lay entirely flat on the ground, arms extended outward in full reverence. When Heria¡¯s leathery hand clasped over her mouth she could feel that the cut was gone. There had been no glow or sign of casting, but the Mukeko healed her cheek, and had given Heria one of the most sincere smiles she¡¯d ever received. No fear or revulsion to be seen.


    ¡°Ah, Blessed Heria?¡± It was Lumi. Just the lone, busty, very well-endowed one.


    She couldn¡¯t bring herself to look away from the image before her. It was as if all of the Grand Wilder¡¯s lay prostrate before Heria. ¡°Yes, Lumifaen?¡±


    ¡° I thought you would like to know that your friend, the buffoon, is about to be let out!¡±


    That snapped Heria to attention immediately. She turned towards the tiny golden being with wide eyes. ¡°Right now? Please take me to them.¡±


    ¡°Of course! Of course!¡± A swarm of Lumifaen circled the well-endowed one and lit the sky with a glittering gold cloud of fluttering wings and excited chatter. ¡°Follow us!¡± Millions shouted as one. Heria could hear the Mukeko stand behind her, their creaks and groans orchestrated every slight movement. It sounded as if Noctra had given birth to a tempest behind her. Heria refused to look back, to be distracted or enchanted by the vast unknown before her. She needed to find her friend. Or Amberosin. Heria followed the Luminfaen and kept her eyes forward.


    Guess they¡¯ll be coming the whole way too? Right. No easy out for the ¡®Blessed¡¯ I suppose.


    The lone Lumi that had addressed her directly before flew out of the swarm and dropped in beside Heria, speaking almost directly into her ear. ¡°I feel since you are the Blessed, a demi-divine being to the great Mukeko race, I should offer you fair warning. Your¡­ friend is not in such great shape as you were upon leaving the terrinhive. She still made it out in tremendous time, but not so, uhm, gracefully as yourself.¡±


    Demi-divinity could come in handy¡­ did this little lewd sprite just feed me information on purpose? Without the knowledge of the Mukeko? If so¡­


    ¡°Thank you very much for the warning, Lumi. I will try to prepare my nerves... though, may I ask¡­ are they in danger of dying?¡± Heria felt a lump coil in her throat as the question came out.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­ this Lumifaen thinks not. Scouts in their terrinhive reported signs of apparent casting to heal some of the wounds¡­. But your ally did pass out before the Lumi could open it.¡± The little creature''s nakedness actually calmed Heria¡¯s nerves a little, watching the tiny-massive cock flop-flop-flopping in the wind had a fairly uplifting effect, though her heart did race at the mention of casting. Amberosin couldn¡¯t do that!


    It has to be Korrin.


    Heria wanted to sprint forward ahead of all the Mukeko and Lumifaen around her, scoop up her dear friend, and run away. From everything. Everyone. No war, no vengeance was worth losing Korrin over. Not for good. It took a lot of resolve to keep her legs moving at a steady pace, just behind the Lumifaen swarm, and only fifteen paces or so ahead of the nearest Mukeko. They stayed far enough away to be respectful but Heria wasn¡¯t quite so sure it was a distance one gave to someone they revered; she felt more akin to a prisoner than royalty, though, from what she had witnessed of royalty and nobility, there may not be much of a difference. One is simply confined by bars or walls while the other is stuck beneath the gaze of their subjects and vassals.


    Heria didn¡¯t run. Didn¡¯t sprint as she wholeheartedly desired. She kept her pace beside the lone Lumi. ¡°Do- uh, sorry- is your name Lumifaen? All of you?¡± Heria hoped the walk to find Korrin would be more bearable with a distraction of sorts. As of now, it was feeling like quite the long trek.


    ¡°Heh. Lumifaen is the name of our people, our species. The Mukeko call us all Lumifaen in the same way a master may refer to slaves or servants by their race, without disdain or insult, but in a way that unifies them all. They subjugated our people long, long ago- do not misunderstand, they are very easy masters, haven¡¯t witnessed them commit an act of violence for thousands of years- but I believe they refer to us this way to help make us¡­ ¡®other¡¯. Easier to command and such as it is. Ah, apologies, I ramble on; No that is not my name, it is our people and our title. My name, which no one aside from Lumi has ever asked of me, is Ji¡¯lon Hutum. Ji-Hu to friends.¡±


    Heria felt like she¡¯d been slapped with a block of ice. Ji¡¯lon Hutum gave her a lot to process in his long-winded answer and she could not have been more grateful for it. After a momentary silence, she nodded her head.


    ¡°Thank you, Ji-Hu.¡±


    The little Lumifaen made a sound like a small ringing bell and seemed to shed some of its gold glimmer into the air as it quivered. Ji-Hu¡¯s buoyant bosoms and extravagant floppy meat stick suddenly appeared much more buoyant and floppy. Heria tried not to stare, or laugh. ¡°It is my pleasure, Blessed Heria. Now- I do believe we have arrived and from the buzz of things ahead it sounds as if your ally has awoken! How splendid! Such impeccable timing must be the product of divinity!¡±


    Heria smiled without restraint, slicing her cheeks on either side and bleeding freely, without worry of scaring the Lumi. Ji¡¯lon responded with another bell-like twinkle and shot through the mass of Lumifaen ahead of them, splitting the others like a golden sea amidst the air. She felt her smile drop dead in it¡¯s wake when the path cleared and her eyeline landed on Korrin.


    ¡°Oh no. Oh, shit Kori that¡¯s a lot of blood.¡±


    Korrin sat still on her knees, both arms to her side spilling forth waves of crimson.

 Chapter Forty-Five

    Chapter Forty-Five


    ¡°Blessed? Blessed Heria?¡±


    ¡°Oh- yes, Ji-Hu?¡±


    She didn¡¯t know how long she¡¯d been sitting there staring at the ground. Luna still dominated much of the sky so it couldn¡¯t have been more than a few hours, but the small naked Lumifaen was a welcome sight nonetheless. Heria¡¯s heart lurched in desperate hope and nearly closed her throat.


    ¡°Would you care to follow me? The Mukeko have finished your ally¡¯s treatment. They- uhm, that is, the one you called Korrin- still sleeps but it is safe for you to enter now.¡±


    Heria shuddered thinking about what might have made entry unsafe before, she¡¯d likely never forget some of the sounds she heard while waiting outside the Mukeko¡¯s massive medical hut- literally the hollowed out trunk of a native gigan-palm- though she felt it was wrong to be anything but grateful as she slowly stood. Heria nodded to Ji-Hu and fell into place behind the tiny golden creature.


    Lumifaen must be the envy of all others. Big rounded breasts, dangling cock, and a plump little ass. Unbelievable. She felt a smirk build at the corners of her mouth but stopped it for fear that Ji-Hu would turn and see Heria staring his tiny ass down with a grin. Might think I¡¯m looking for my next meal. Stop floating Heria. Focus.


    Heria wasn¡¯t quite sure what she expected to find through the giant gigan-palm¡¯s threshold but one thing she definitely did not think she would find inside was a huge, flat projection of images that moved hither and thither at the flick of a tall Mukeko¡¯s wrists. They looked like scans of a smaller person, curves that spoke to breasts and a nice head of hair, who was splayed with arms wide. A person with only one hand.


    ¡°Ji-Hu¡­ is that Korrin up there?¡±


    ¡°Hah! Not entirely, no, just her information that the Mukeko have gathered. She is there, see!¡±The Lumifaen darted forward leaving a golden trail behind him that Heria followed to an egg shaped dome made entirely of hearty glass. The thick glass that chilled Heria¡¯s large hands at the slightest touch. Protruding from the freezing glass egg were a good thirty or forty thick strings and tubes with alternating colors of blue-red swirling around one another. Heria could see essence traveling up the colored strings towards the screen before coming back down like a swift burst of gold imbued blue-red light that shone through the thick lining of the tubes with ease. Laying with arms and legs spread wide inside the chilled egg was none other than Korrin, entirely naked, and without a single wound visible on her body.


    Korrin¡¯s left hand looked like new, with no scars, scratches, or bulging bones and cracked knuckles. It looked smooth and clean. Korrin¡¯s right hand was new. Where there had been a stump ever since Heria had known the troubled young woman now sat a similarly clean, smooth, fresh-looking hand. Soft flesh that matched Korrin¡¯s perfectly twitched now and then as essence came and went.


    This is¡­


    ¡°Amazing, isn¡¯t it? The Mukeko can heal any wound, no matter how deep. Mental, physical, spiritual- they can fix anything that is wrong with anyone. And they do. Death does not persist where there is Mukeko, Blessed Heria. Your dear new pal Ji-Hu has been beneath their healing touch a great many times! All Lumifaen have been granted near endless life under the rule of our gracious masters.¡±


    ¡°Live a life of danger do you, Ji¡¯lon Hutum?¡± Heria¡¯s eyes were stuck on Korrin. She felt no desire to hold back a smile now, it simply refused to come.


    ¡°Oh yes! Do not let the tiny stature of the Lumifaen-¡±


    ¡°The partially tiny stature.¡± The levity wasn¡¯t in her voice, but Heria tried.


    ¡°I don¡¯t believe I under-¡± Ji-Hu¡¯s hands slapped against the large breast bouncing about it¡¯s own chest. ¡°Oh! Hah! You are a great deal of fun to be around Blessed Heria! The other Lumi will love to hear that one.¡± Ji¡¯lon bent forward laughing and slapped a glittering hand against Korrin¡¯s egg.


    Heria didn¡¯t smile, she was too intent on Korrin to worry about such small pleasantries or appearances at the moment. ¡°I truly do appreciate the compliment and feel quite the same about you, my friend.¡± She did, though the fact felt moot to Heria. Everything else was distant, dark, muffled to the point of non-existence. Everything except Korrin. She should be happy that Korrin was obviously breathing. Alive. Without a single wound to behold¡­ but she knew Korrin. That new hand may not come off as the gracious gift it was intended to be. Even if it was¡­


    Who do they both look brand new? And they look like flesh, but¡­


    Something was buzzing in her animal brain, Heria didn¡¯t understand what, but something was off. Even the logical remnants of Helena De Seires felt high strung and on alert. Ji¡¯lon giggled continuously to her right but Heria turned her attention to the left. To the large flat square projected high above. There was no longer a tall Mukeko flipping through the images. No longer one in the massive room at all. Heria was sure that wasn¡¯t right, but her ¡°danger-brain¡± told her to move her hairy ass anyway. She didn¡¯t wait for Ji-Hu but the Lumifaen followed beside her silently. No objections. No warnings. Heria couldn¡¯t judge whether that was a favorable sign or not. She liked Ji¡¯lon, but there was a distinct border between those she liked and those she trusted. Heria liked a great many others¡­ she only trusted a few.


    She hustled herself over to the exact spot she¡¯d spotted the Mukeko before and looked up towards the images that seemed to float in the air. There were no words or characters that she recognized but there were vague pictures, outlines of Korrin¡¯s body. When Heria had entered with Ji-Hu the image was of Korrin with a still missing right hand. Now, both hands were present and accounted for. Heria cast a couple of quick glances over her shoulder and raised a large, timid hand skyward. A small, soft light formed a circle where she pointed but refused to move with her pointed finger. She nearly punched herself.


    Use essence, you idiot.


    Reaching out with her own essence did the trick. Now, when she moved the finger left or right, the small circle above followed suit, after a short delay. Heria tested up and down. After she was pleased enough with the novelty of the performance, she shot an eyebrow up at Li-Hu.


    Help?


    ¡°What is it that you seek, Blessed?¡±


    ¡°I want the images from during the treatment. I can see before and after, but¡­¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes, I see. May I?¡± Li-Hu flew down next to Heria¡¯s hand and extended his own small arms.


    ¡°Yes, please.¡±


    ¡°Alright¡­ so you need to go here- make sure to keep casting now, Blessed- do one of these little loops, side, side, and¡­. Poke! Hah! That is exhilarating, I must say.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve never used it before?¡±


    ¡°No, no, only ever watched the Mukeko use the imaging slab.¡± Li-Hu still held Heria¡¯s massive hand, though she did not pull it away. The winged Lumifaen was also looking at the images above them, oblivious to their continued contact, it appeared. ¡°Oh, oh my¡­ that is odd. Do you see?¡±


    Heria did indeed see. The images above them moved from a vague outline of Korrin with one hand and a stump to images of Korrin with no hands, finally to the image of Korrin with both hands. There was also some array of colors swirling around the inside of the image¡¯s head. Heria presumed it was essence from the tubes and thick, colorful strings that rose high into the gigan-palm¡¯s segmented bark.


    ¡°Why did they take the other one?¡±


    Li-Hu guided her hand from side to side in a swift motion that played the images in reverse, then forward again, and back in reverse until it finally satisfied the Lumifaen. ¡°There was no permanent damage to it that the Great Mukeko should have struggled with repairing¡­ not that I can see, at least.¡± The tiny golden sprite peeked around quickly and giggled, ¡°Lowly Lumi aren¡¯t meant to interpret these images or documents, but some Mukeko reward their Lumifaen if they can pass on news faster than the others. So we all learn- In secret of course. Sh.¡± Li-Hu gave a quaint chuckle, but turned eyes back forward and up. Intent on the investigation at hand.


    ¡°And the essence around Korrin¡¯s head?¡±


    ¡°That¡­ most of it¡­ appears to be her own. Not uncommon in someone with injuries so severe, though some of it is¡­ well, not. It doesn¡¯t appear to be Mukeko essence either, theirs is a very distinct green-mahogany-ruby mixture. That''s closer to a sapphire, to my Lumifaen eyes, at the least.¡± Heria nodded. She saw red and blue, that was enough for her to know that something was happening to Korrin, something around her brain.


    ¡°Last question, if I may, Ji-Hu?¡±


    ¡°Anything, Blessed Heria. Anything.¡±


    ¡°Can you see what they made the hands out of?¡±


    ¡°My, you truly are a curious one, aren¡¯t you Blessed?¡± Ji¡¯lon didn¡¯t even have to move her hand this time. ¡°It says here¡­ well, that actually looks very commonplace, if I do say so. It is a mixture of essence, soil, animal bones, a few metals, and something labeled as ¡°current¡±. No idea what ¡°current¡± is, though, just below that it says ¡°host material¡±. Hm¡­ host is an odd word for this matter, wouldn¡¯t patient or source fit better? The Mukeko surely are a great mystery to me even now.¡±


    ¡° Only as curious as you are talkative, Ji¡¯Lon, but truly that is odd phrasing on their end, I¡¯d say. And that''s not just because of translation?¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not! I am one of the most well versed Lumifaen in Mukeken and, uhm¡­ people speak! Humans speak?¡± Ji-Hu was steeped in thought about the semantics of it all when Heria heard a creaking that made the hairs on her neck and dreads on her arms all stand at attention.


    ¡°Shit. Ji-Hu, come one!¡±


    Heria whisper-screamed at the little naked creature and basically sprinted back to Korrin¡¯s dome. Ji¡¯lon was already almost at the freezing glass egg by the time Heria had taken a few steps. She made it back to her exact position from before just as the tall Mukeko returned. Heria slammed her head into the glass, leaning on it in panicked exhaustion, which she hoped looked like sobbing from behind.


    The Mukeko had either not noticed or did not care either way and went right back to examining the images.


    I hope he doesn¡¯t notice that we messed with it¡­


    ¡°Do not worry, Blessed Heria, Ji-Hu returned the images to their last display!¡±


    How did-


    ¡°I do not read minds, only faces.¡±


    Ah. Right. Heria eased her grimace. ¡°Thank you Ji¡¯lon Humut. You are a truly noble Lumifaen.¡±


    ¡° Noble¡­ noble¡­ ah- oh, why thank you!¡± A soft pink shot up Ji-Hu¡¯s bloomed shaped head.


    Did they just blush?


    Heria chuckled and caught herself, turning it into a fake sob at the end; just in case the tall Mukeko was feigning their disinterest in her at the moment. Korrin twitched a few times beneath Heria¡¯s gaze which fell to both freshly made hands; symbols of what could have been for Korrin had she not met Lord White. She was glad to see her dear friend sleeping peacefully, and pieced together, but watching Korrin¡¯s steady breathing unnerved her for some reason. Heria felt as if she were tempting a storm with an irresistible calm while she watched Korrin. She was afraid that the peace, the joy, was just as tainted as ever; that something waited for them just around the corner.


    Heria slid to her backside just in front of Korrin¡¯s cold egg dome and bowed her head into heavy hands.


    ¡°Korri¡­ please wake up. Please be okay.¡±


    Heria heard the sound of a squeaky wheel, all too familiar to her with all the Indentured pushing around ill-maintained carts, and watched it pass through her peripheral. Transparent containers, some solid jars, other flimsy packs, rattled on a cart seemingly made of wood and roots. Vines twisted about the contraption and held it together in multiple spots; an observation which gave her another hint as to the ways of the Mukeko.


    There, rattling in a jar just on top, bobbing up and down in a clear liquid, was a severed hand with trails of blood still seeping out from where a wrist once was.


    Heria froze for a moment, analyzing all the information she had. She had to be fast and discreet, which left only one option.


    ¡°Ji¡¯lon Humut¡­ would you be willing to do me one last favor?¡±


    ***


    This is it. This is our only chance.


    The Lumifaen were a long-lived race in general, once considered to be of divinity themselves by the Ta¡¯ entirely due to their lengthy life-spans. Lumifaen were worshiped and revered by a good many people, from within the Wilders and beyond. Including the Mukeko. They¡¯d always accepted the worship and reverence with an air of humility, never letting their hold over others lead them into abusive leadership; they served as sages of Noctra. A people whose purpose benefited everyone. The Lumifaen¡¯s system of honor and ethics helped to keep them neutral in all disputes, which ultimately led to their downfall and subjugation at the hands of the Mukeko.


    Ji¡¯lon Hutum had been fairly young at the time, scarcely a day over one or two hundred years old; an infantile welp in the eyes of the Lumifaen. Too young to make a difference, at the least. Though, in all fairness, the elders ended up in much worse positions than Ji¡¯lon.


    They were all dead.


    The Mukeko were very methodical, expertly precise with which Lumi were left alive. Mostly, they left the young and impressionable, with a few thousand exceptions in the way of familial executions. None of the remaining Lumifaen held any connection to royals, legends, or Lumi of importance from the past. No connection to their heritage or culture.


    Ji¡¯lon was not the only Lumi upset about this, though some more docile of their people seemed content to stay serving under the Mukeko, if only because it was somehow easier than rebellion. Ji¡¯lon understood, though still, saving them all was the goal. Helping Heria was the first step to achieving that goal.


    ¡°Could you possibly¡­ follow that cart? Just to observe and report back?¡±


    Heria was kind and intelligent; Ji¡¯lon was ever grateful for that stroke of luck. For all things the Mukeko were, for all they had become after usurping the proverbial throne from beneath the Lumifaen, they still were ever fearful of their gods. The Alta. The Blessed. If Heria would side with the Lumi, they could pull off an even more subtle, intricate, and ultimate subjugation than the Mukeko had which Ji¡¯lon was sure had been aided by an ally in the shadows.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    They used to be so peaceful. Though¡­ so did I.


    Now Ji¡¯lon Hutum followed a cart being pushed by a stout Mukeko who stumbled about smacking into walls and contraptions as if with intent. Short, round, and made almost entirely of stone and soil that seemed to shed pebbles and dust with every step as the body nearly split and crumbled before being pulled back together by stark green vines spiraling up the backside of the clumsy creature. Ji¡¯lon could see why it thrashed about so freely, though refused to feel pity for the beast.


    Mukeko were the enemy, no matter how unfortunately put together or meek one may be. An enemy Ji¡¯lon wanted to eradicate. They¡¯d bred, beaten, and belittled Ji¡¯lon for nearly a millennium; every ounce of compassion that may have existed at one point or another for the Mukeko people was replaced with flame-licked ire. Abhorrence, for how they¡¯d desecrated the once lovely porcelain complexion that all Lumifaen naturally had by subjecting their entire race to vile treatments and experiments.


    The ¡®Great Mukeko¡¯. Hah! Their native word for ¡®great¡¯ is ¡®lumon¡¯! They feared our retribution so immensely they removed all color from our skin to keep an eye on our essence supply. The cowards wanted to keep us from casting! The radiant Lumifaen! The race that brought the Mukeken savages the art of casting in the first place¡­ now, now that we have an ally, for Heria will be an ally after I help her and the woman, Korrin¡­ Now, they will be reminded of who we once were.


    The cart stopped in front of a doorway blocked with a stone slab. Ji¡¯lon floated high near a lumin-lantern, a ghastly design constructed of the still glowing skin of slaughtered Lumi. Most had been revived. Harvested. Revived. Repeated. There had been enough tears spilled over the damn things for Ji¡¯lon to even worry about it now. All there was to do for the time being was observe the clumsy Mukeko. The thick green vines about it fought to hold the repulsive fragments of unnatural bodies together.


    No bark or moss, just stone, dirt, soil. No roots to be seen. No discernable face.


    It suddenly became obvious to Ji¡¯lon that this Mukeko was one of the ¡®Crafted Kin¡¯; pitiable, infertile abominations pieced together from Mukeko¡¯s remnants when they are ¡°reborn¡±. Meaning the creature pushing the cart amounted to nothing more than pint-sized golems. Mindless. Obedient. Silent.


    Poor beast. I am sorry to begin this holy retribution with you. I do hope you may forgive me. Blessed Heria will not treat you well when she sees what you are about to do.


    Ji¡¯lon waited for the ¡®crafted¡¯ Mukeko to move the stone slab and enter the room beyond it. When the slab slid back over the threshold, Ji¡¯lon whistled. Two trusted Lumifaen zipped out from somewhere below and began rubbing the stone slab with little golden hands that left smears of glittering light on the stone-door. If they did their job right it would be coaxed open by the time Ji¡¯lon returned with Heria.


    If they fail¡­ if I fail¡­ this may truly spell the end of the Lumi.


    ***


    Heria kept a long arm draped in furry dreads wrapped about her forehead as she leaned on Korrin¡¯s freezing egg-dome. She kept the doorway she¡¯d watched Ji¡¯lon disappear through in her peripheral, as well as the Mukeko who worked nearby.


    Kori¡­. I¡¯ll do whatever it takes to get you out of here safely. No matter the cost.


    Heria spent much of her time there observing through the corners of her eyes and thinking. Trying to piece together the structure of the Mukeko society, of the Lumifaen¡¯s place within that society, all with direly limited information. She¡¯d nearly forgotten Mezir and the others, sending them to some place far in the back of her mind so she could focus on saving Korrin. She could get to Trallengaed later, they¡¯d be traveling a good six months by sea anyhow. She had time. Forgetting the rest of the group revealed to Heria an immensely improved amount of time to ponder and plan there amongst the Wilderfolk of her childhood dreams. It appeared that Helena was still fully alive, somewhere within Heria.


    She couldn¡¯t help but smile at the prospect.


    Perhaps one day we¡¯ll even be the same.


    An odd, resonating thought that brought Heria a small peace through all her worry and terror. She felt her arm warm slightly against the glass as blood rushed through it from her increasingly speeding heart.


    Perhaps one day, I¡¯ll truly be-


    ¡°Blessed?! Blessed Heria?¡±


    Ji¡¯lon was abruptly in her right ear. Panicked, by the sound of it. How the tiny glittering sprite had eluded her vision entirely Heria did not know. Some part of her wanted to explore that, to dissect it for the palpable mystery that it was.


    Not now, Helena. Now is the time to act.


    ¡°Ji¡¯lon? Oh, glorious Legends- I was losing my mind with worry!¡± Not exactly untrue. Just a bit misleading. Worry about who exactly? Ah, doesn¡¯t matter! ¡°I must say I severely missed your presence. The Mukeko are a bit¡­. Unnerving, are they not?¡± Heria needed Ji¡¯lon to remain an ally. At this point the little naked creature was entirely indispensable to her rescue efforts, so she felt obligated to supply a little stroke of the ego.


    It had the appropriate effect as the Lumi lit bright with a red burst, what she was certain now was indeed a blush of sorts. Ji¡¯lon¡¯s broke into a wide smile before shaking the bloom shaped head atop their shoulders.


    ¡°Blessed, please, you must follow me! Promptly, i-if you please.¡±


    Heria cast a glance back at Mukeko behind her and shot Ji¡¯lon a quizzical look.


    ¡°That Mukeko cares for nothing other than their experiments. They will not notice your absence- please Heria, we must go!¡± This time Ji¡¯lon shot bright with an orange-red flicker.


    She looked at Korrin sleeping soundly in her newly renewed body and felt happiness tarnished by the prospects of their situation, sickened that her departure was absolutely necessary. Heria needed Ji¡¯lon to trust her.


    She ran close behind the bright gold Lumi and found herself increasingly thankful for her tiny ally¡¯s brilliant glow. The lanterns adorning wide-set corridors were far too high above to be of any use to her, which spoke to the grand size of most the Mukeko. All rays of light that they cast were darkened to her by distance. Gratefully, their quiet, segmented sprint came out to be fairly short. Heria was certain they¡¯d only gone down one corridor and made a left, yet up ahead she could see a faint glow.


    A sign of more Lumifaen, only two though, so far as she could tell. They looked like they were rubbing a barely open door concocted of a single stone slab, their tiny hands left small golden shimmers at the base of the stone; leaving splotches of light behind. As they cast Heria could see some of the gold-shine within them disappear.


    Casting? Didn¡¯t even know the little ones could do that¡­ interesting.


    Though nowhere near as interesting as the shambled room just visible through the crack the Lumi had opened, maybe enough for one of Heria¡¯s feet. Still, plenty of room for her to peer through unhindered.


    At first, she only saw a massive wall that seemed to extend all the way to the top of the gutted gigan-palm. It was adorned with thousands of thin, single wood panes that served as pitiful shelves; shelves that bent and curved throughout, obviously not meant to hold as much weight as the Mukeko intended them to. As Heria focused her eyes and neared the door, however, she was able to discern some of the things resting so precariously on those shoddy shelves. Mostly Heria only saw large jars all filled to the brim with a thick, cloudy liquid. When she reached a few paces from the slowly sliding stone slab Heria smelled something pungent, harsh, and extremely familiar.


    Vinegar? Ach. Father used to drink a shot of the vile juice every morning. Never understood why. Every time a young Helena had questioned him about the drink he had just smiled and said, ¡°Preservation, my little Lady. Preservation.¡± A bit ironic, I suppose. Preserved himself perfectly for the fire. Still, it begged the question, what were the Mukeko trying to preserve? And for what purpose?


    The Lumifaen that had been gently willing the door open stopped when it was just wide enough for Heria to slip through. Only Ji¡¯lon followed her into the room and a swirling mass of scarlet shot through the lone Lumi¡¯s body, dancing about their translucent head. Much more fierce and active than a blush; Heria recognized the sensation immediately.


    Rage. Pure and unhindered. She¡¯d felt it before, witnessed the glow traverse her body like a savage flame consuming an ill-made wicker hut.


    Upon seeing the jars at a closer range, Heria felt the terrible burn building within herself.


    Container upon container, anywhere between one and two hundred jars per shelf, Heria could see little winged bodies bobbing up and down. Lifeless. They dominated the deceptively large room, which was vertical as the gigan-palm shell itself. The Lumifaen corpses ranged in size, shape, and color. Heads had been replaced or modified to resemble different plants. Some were without conceivable limbs altogether.


    Experiments. Ji¡¯lon mentioned experiments¡­ this- this is fucking awful. Why did he come in here with me, this must be excruciating!


    ¡°Ji-Hu you don¡¯t have to-¡±


    The tiny scarlet-gold creature with immodestly large assets held up a hand to stop her and pointed towards the other end of the room. Eyes set forward, flowery face was frozen in a grimace. There, at the end of Ji¡¯lon¡¯s sightline, was the clumsy-looking Mukeko Heria saw pushing the cart; the aforementioned cart beside it, with much more than just Korrin¡¯s hand atop it. The cart was full to the brim with human body parts.


    Any and all. Argonia¡¯s words made much more sense to her suddenly.


    A pair of eyes and tongue floated in one jar; beside it, contained in a much taller jar, were different arms of varying length. For some nauseating reason, Heria couldn¡¯t help but think how much their forearms all stored together so closely looked just like a flesh-toned forest full of mismatched trees.


    Heria¡¯s mind went blank. She stood for a moment, unsure if she could hear anything at all until she heard the unmistakable sound of the ocean frothing in her ears. All around the tall jar and squat Mukeko, the world turned to a blur. She felt so much closer than she was; Heria hadn¡¯t moved since spotting the tall jar. Didn¡¯t know if she could. Knew that she couldn¡¯t think about anything.


    She was frozen in place. Might as well have journeyed out into the tundra of the Shardlands ass naked after a good soaking. Heria couldn''t lift the weight to her arms or legs and was unable to judge their strength. She felt like they had none left. Without warning the Mukeko disappeared to her, blurred along with all else, leaving only the jar visible. She watched. Waited. Unsure for how long, she simply stood. And then she saw something, peeking through the fleshy forest afloat in vinegar, something that lit her blood utterly aflame and forced Heria into action.


    Floating between two muscular arms bobbed a set of short, stubby, infantile fingers.


    ***


    Ji¡¯lon knew he had Heria as an ally the moment she spotted the crafted Mukeko¡¯s cart and its contents. The long hairs on her oversized arms stood on end, bristling with the vibrations of violence. A vast amount of the human body parts harvested by the Mukeko were actually from corpses or ¡°willing¡± sacrifices given to the Wilderfolk by small tribes who¡¯d never migrated eastward in the Noctra¡¯s first millennium.


    Heria wasn¡¯t aware of that fact, however.


    She didn¡¯t seem to be aware of anything at the moment. Except for a single jar. Ji¡¯lon felt excitement shoot up their spine and knew it must be visible, but she took no notice this time. No inquisitive twinkle in her eyes, scanning Ji¡¯lon for information.


    Heria was blind with rage.


    Ji¡¯lon couldn¡¯t have been more pleased.


    She is ours now, our ally in the fight against the Mukeko! There is no feasible reason she should ever trust them or attempt peace after seeing this. Even if she discovers the practices, the ¡°ethics¡±, to the whole process¡­ I¡¯d say it¡¯ll be too late to turn back by then.


    It was hard for Ji¡¯lon not to smile. Heria was standing there, shaking fiercely.


    Wait until she notices the grinder! Oh, she is going to lose it!


    But something else made her snap first, something to do with the jar Ji¡¯lon assumed. Heria suddenly shot forward into action so quickly Ji¡¯lon didn¡¯t think her feet were touching the ground. Her arms were aglow with a brilliant spiral of red and blue essence building beneath her skin. By the time she slammed into the crumbling crafted Mukeko, both arms were consumed in light down to the dreads of fur that hung down below. The pitiful creature burst into all directions upon impact. Those poor, lovely vines finally offered a reprieve from their monumental task, took the chance without hesitation to snap and fall to the floor in a shower of soil and stone.


    Heria stood there in the dusty remains watching the individual pieces writhe and grind until they were finally sapped of what little life they held, to begin with. Ji¡¯lon was not proud of his deception of Heria or proud of having her kill the poor crafted creature. Ji¡¯lon was, however, extremely proud that their plan had worked. Now came the hard part. Heria was undoubtedly still full of hate and anger and Ji¡¯lon had to talk her down.


    To offer his plan on how to destroy the Mukeko.


    They will make Heria their monarch. Their ¡®Blessed¡¯ will rise to the head of their society without so much as a question. Then she can unleash our combined fury upon them! This will go much quicker than I originally intended! Hah!


    The massive Alta woman who had seemed so intelligent, kind, and inquisitive to Ji¡¯lon before suddenly looked like an animal. They could almost see the hate seeping through her pores. Ji¡¯lon just needed to give her a moment to direct that hate, that violent intent, towards the right target.


    Ah, there it is. Heria¡¯s eyebrows shot up, her eyes slowly cleared, and then she fell back against the wall. Now, it''s safe to approach. Or, should be at the lea-


    A large, leathery hand was wrapped about Ji¡¯lon¡¯s enter being. Their breast and dangling meat stick pressed hard into Ji¡¯lon¡¯s body and elicited a yelp. What in all that is reverent-


    ¡°You. You knew what was in here. What I would find. Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡±


    ¡°Blessed Heri- ah!¡± She squeezed harder, Ji¡¯lon heard cracking. ¡°Ah- okay, okay- Heria. You had to see for yourself. Would you have believed me if I simply told you? They¡¯re out there saving your friend''s life. I couldn¡¯t take any chances of you thinking I was lying!¡±


    ¡°So, you lied?¡±


    ¡°No! I withheld information! I am so sorry but I- I have a plan!¡±


    ¡°A plan? For what you pint-sized prick?!¡±


    ¡°To take out the Mukeko! To stop them from doing this to our people, both of our people! They¡¯re taking those parts and grinding them into their meals of soil and bark! Don¡¯t you want them gone?! They want to make you their monarch Heria! You can take all their power and then-¡±


    ¡°Give it to you? Quite ambitious for your size, aren¡¯t you, little liar?¡±


    The other Lumi had no doubt fled thinking Ji¡¯lon¡¯s plan a failure but this could be salvaged. ¡°Heria! Please¡­. They¡¯ve done so many horrible things to all of us. They¡¯ve changed me in so many ways over the course of thousands of years and I¡­ I saw a chance in your support, I-¡±


    Heria¡¯s cold glare strangled the words silent in Ji¡¯lon¡¯s throat.


    She remained quiet for a moment, staring at the golden body wrapped in her maliciously large, leathery palm. There was a quiver working its way through Heria¡¯s fanged lower jaw, shaking her vicious teeth as she looked down upon Ji¡¯lon. For a moment the Lumifaen was certain Heria was going to devour their pretty head as payment for their transgressions but when she leaned forward, further overtop of Ji¡¯lon, she kept her mouth closed.


    Ji¡¯lon chanced a swift glance at Heria¡¯s eyes.


    She''s thinking. Reasoning¡­ good, good! Hopefully¡­


    The captive Lumi swore there was a softer edge to Heria¡¯s jaw already. Her grip on Ji¡¯lon¡¯s body loosened, ever so slightly. After a moment of further internal deliberation, Heria relented and placed Ji¡¯lon on a table before her, where the Lumifaen promptly fell to their knees.


    Oh, thank the Vivian Ammun! All magnanimous twelve of them! I can breathe!


    Then, however, there was a sound. So resolute and resounding, so firm and swift, that it stole away all remnants of air within Ji¡¯lon¡¯s lungs. A crack-crunch-rumble that all Lumifaen were far too familiar with.


    The sound of the stone slab door closing.


    ***


    When the infernal rage subsided, all in one instant just as it appeared, Heria felt immediately drained. Heavy. Exhausted. She wanted to do nothing more than to press her back upon the slab she¡¯d just pushed closed and close her eyes.


    A quick nap, then vengeance, yeah? No. No, of course not.


    Heria turned back to Ji¡¯lon. She needed to keep up her act. Fortunately, ¡°pissed off¡± seemed to be her natural appearance, so she didn¡¯t have much to care for in that area. Heria walked past a set of empty carts that she was sure once held parts of people and directed the vivid disgust of such a thought straight to her face. Locked in on a grimace that she set on Ji¡¯lon.


    ¡° I¡¯ve liked you since our meeting, Ji-Hu. I didn''t¡¯ trust you, being a stranger to me, but I liked you.¡± Heria made sure a low and unpleasant growl escaped at the end. Let it hang in the air over Ji¡¯lon for a moment, let the Lumifaen feel the weight of her anger. ¡°I was starting to think we may be able to help each other, barring any lack of trust, to achieve our separate goals¡­ yet, here, barely two days into our association, you¡¯ve already withheld information from me and plotted to use me as a means to usurp power for yourself.¡±


    ¡°For my people-¡±


    ¡°Furthermore,¡± Ji¡¯lon whimpered at Heria¡¯s intrusion, she didn¡¯t enjoy the sound, but it was favorable for her purposes, ¡° You purposely led me to a disgusting scene, likely knowing how I¡¯d react, and even in your admission I can sense that you are still hiding something, Ji¡¯lon Humut.¡± Heria hated to see the small creature shudder under her words.


    Ji¡¯lon¡¯s silence was admittance enough.


    ¡° Right. So, the way I see it¡± the way that matters, ¡° is that we are both desperate for assistance. I want to save my friend and continue my mission, you want your people to be free. We can help one another. But I need to know everything. And Ji¡¯lon. If the Mukeko people do make me their monarch and ruler, I will be retaining that power. Whether or not you will be there by my side is up to you, dear Ji-Hu.¡± Heria was employing all the tactics of fear, hope, and manipulation that she had learned watching Lord White over the years. She wasn¡¯t sure how to feel about the fact that she was doing it so well.


    Ji¡¯lon Humut looked up at her as if she had just handed the creature their salvation. It was as if the threats were fodder. Their mouth opened to speak, she interrupted once more.


    ¡°And, Ji-Hu, I want you to know, from this point onward I am your monarch. If you betray my trust in anyway way, shape, or form, if you withhold any processions or proceedings, no matter how noble the reason, I will clip your wings and wear you about my neck on a gaudy chain. For all of my life.¡±


    Ji¡¯lon¡¯s face went slack for a moment.


    Good. It is understood then. Now-


    It was Heria¡¯s turned to be interrupted. She lost all train of thought. Ji¡¯lon had dropped to one tiny knee before her, head down. When the Lumifaen spoke her heart skipped a bit.


    ¡°Yes, Queen Heria. Yes, my Blessed Queen.¡±

 Forty-Six

    ¡°With all due respect, Grand Lord Councilor-¡±


    Respect that was too hard-fought to let you besmirch, you filthy noble swine.


    ¡°We, the Noble¡¯s of your Nu¡¯ Council, those you have handpicked from the corners of every great nation-¡±


    Yes, handpicked for your spineless, submissive nature, and deep pockets. Largely...


    ¡°We, all of us, do feel as if there is some explanation owed for the events of this past month.¡±


    You owe me everything you have. Ingrate. I owe you nothing!


    White knew his aggression was misplaced on the man standing across the long table. Reginald Mur Enchan was the embodiment of loyalism. He¡¯d sacrificed four- no, now five children- to White¡¯s guard, not to mention, White himself had openly attacked one- oh, nope, two now I suppose, silly me. A native Blancanan and one of Lord White''s most invaluable allies during the earlier days of his long reign and eventual ascension to Grand Lord, Reginald Enchan was the first member inaugurated into White¡¯s Nu¡¯ Council.


    Lord White took a deep breath and nodded his head. This was Reginald¡¯s duty, of course, as speaker of the Nu¡¯ Council, and White felt that the messenger did not deserve his ire. The snakes behind the message, however¡­


    ¡° Thank you, Reginald. I, of course, understand any and all concerns or confusion in relation to recent events. Any bereft pits of sorrow some of you and your families may have fallen into are undeniably justified.¡±


    White let that hang for a moment and watched as more than a few members of the council seemed to ease, loosening their tight muscles and upright stances. All those who had whisper-hissed their delusional demands to poor Reginald. Councilor Enchan was still extremely tense.


    You do know me so well, don¡¯t you old friend?


    ¡°That being said- any and all doubt or blame, or anger- or hate that you and yours may have placed on me during these times is entirely unjust and dare I say, treasonous. If not just plain inconsiderate. Have you all forgotten that I too suffered losses? That I too had to bury a child?¡±


    Children. I had to bury two of my children, my favorites.


    The Nu¡¯ Council members knew nothing of Marina and Senfe, or of Ragoth¡¯s play at being Mezir. They all assumed he was in pain at the loss of his one and only son; White had to remind himself not to chuckle at their ignorance.


    ¡°While I do understand,¡± White continued before any of the other eleven members in the room could take the chance, ¡° that each of you has suffered as well, that all of Blancana¡¯s citizens are suffering still, I simply cannot offer you a solid explanation. After investigations that I myself carried out with the help of all my guard, including my elite Serpints, it appears that each event may have well been a stand alone incident. A rise in chaos that may have been boiling beneath our noses for the past few years.¡±


    A tall, slender woman with the sunkissed mahogany skin of a native Blancanan cleared her throat. Vivani Vin Dreso, mother to Lili-Bon Vin Dreso, wore a luxurious silken white dress covered with gold-threaded embroidery in the shape of a thousand diamonds about its length. She wore jewelry in her ears that hung down nearly to her neck, adorned with a myriad of precious gemstones that were imbued with essence to look like teardrops fell from their tips. Not the typical garb for a mother in mourning, of course. White always felt her dressings were gaudy, her jewelry even more so, but the woman¡¯s beauty was undeniable, even to him.


    ¡°Something to say, my lovely Lady Vin Dreso?¡±


    From any other man the statement would have been patronizing at best, she¡¯d likely had scoffed at the compliment and rebuked that they wouldn¡¯t say the same to another man, but he was Lord White. He would, and did, say it to any man or woman he so desired.


    Lady Vin Dreso smiled meekly, tilting her head in a seated bow. White recalled a time when she would have blushed at any kind word from him.


    Just like her daughter.


    ¡°Yes, Grand Lord. As you have so eloquently stated, we are all in a place of suffering, whether for our own loved ones-¡± Vivani shook and sucked in a sob that seemed to have surprised her, ¡°... or for our vast citizenry¡­ and surely, I do understand the prospect of not knowing or understanding certain events, despite the most thorough of investigations.¡± She shot White a quick glance and he swore there was a flash of anger there in her tearful eyes, though as soon as it came, it went. Replaced by a vivid intellect that reminded him of Lili-Bon all the more. ¡°Though..¡± Vivani¡¯s fist clenched beneath the table, he could see it in her shoulders, her slim forearms, ¡°... we must demand some kind of explanation, if not of what has happened, then of what you plan to do to help us heal. To help us rectify what has been done. Can you offer us nothing as of now, Grand Lord?¡±


    White¡¯s heart thrashed with the throes of an instantaneous rage but a slow, deep breath quelled it. So she wanted to challenge him? Now? So be it.


    ¡° As a matter of fact, Lady Vin Dreso, I have much to offer you in the ways of a plan- and you, all of you- have much to offer me in the ways of seeing that plan come to fruition! We all work together here, Vivani, as always.¡±


    Reginald Enchan shifted in his chair. Uncomfortable as ever.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Together. This means that we, the nobles of this court,¡± appointed by me, ¡° will provide you, our Grand Lord, with even more of our people. Even more of our supplies that our people need to survive. Even more of our children.¡± Vivani¡¯s veneer of calm was cracking quickly.


    The people I gave you? The supplies I transported to begin with? Ha! You¡¯ve nothing that doesn¡¯t belong to me you insect! Perhaps you aren¡¯t as smart as Lili-Bon.


    White said nothing.


    Vivani stood, shaking harder than before. A quaking rage now as opposed to her jarring sorrow from before. ¡°We have given you so much already Lord. What more can we be expected to spare? Are you not the protector of our realm? Of our lands and subjects? Did you not gather us all together to achieve a lasting peace across Noctra?¡±


    No. I gathered you all together as my most indispensable puppets whose strings I¡¯d like to keep untangled from the rabbles. I gathered you because I desired it.


    ¡°I am glad you bring this up now, Vivani. Your¡­ displeasure with the handling and¡­ results of recent events is duly noted.¡± White kept his tone calm, even. Purposely avoided recognizing her feelings of anger and sorrow; careful not to mention Lili-Bon''s death specifically. ¡°However, if you do recall, Lady Vivani the acquisition of forces, supplies, and citizenry were the only things that I have asked for in the pursuit of world-wide peace. A peace that, until very recently, has held firm. As such, I have held up my end as your chosen leader.¡±


    Vivani blanched for a moment and looked as if she may begin sobbing then and there but decided to sit promptly and held a shaky hand up, conceding. White knew that she would not be so quick to concede should Lili-Bon remain ¡°missing¡± for too much longer, that Vivani would have much more to say in the coming days, though he already had a contingency for such events. He acted as if he forgot her outburst and moved forward.


    ¡° I am unable to speak to the motives and intent of our attackers, truthfully, all we can be sure of at this moment in time is that after invading my estate walls merely two nights ago the culprits fled into the Wilders. We do, however, have reason to believe that their final destination is none other than Trallengard. This fact should come as no surprise to any of you that remember our last conversation. Their rebellion is quiet, reserved- and growing in numbers as we speak. We cannot expect silence from them much longer and I fear that if the monsters who attacked our fair city make it to the leaders in Trallengard that we may be in for much, much worse than sporadic hospitalizations and property damage.¡±


    White heard the shuffling of a chair as it slid across the floor before he¡¯d even stopped talking.


    What insolent, insignificant, vile pissant peasant dares to interrupt me now!


    Standing just in front of a disheveled chair with sweat pouring off of his thick black brows and onto the table before him was Bravhi Sonur. Once a lone son to an excessively prominent family of Matria, councilor Sonur had been resigned to an uneventful, unimportant, powerless role within his family- until White approached him with an offer no power-hungry man could refuse. Bravhi¡¯s cooperation proved to be pivotal in White¡¯s acquisition, and proceeding demolition, of Matira. He couldn¡¯t stand the sight of the meek little man.


    ¡°Grand Lord.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Councilor Sonur?¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Lord, for conceding the floor.¡± Sonur bowed low enough that his torso laid parallel to the large oval table where they convened.


    ¡°I do believe your chairs squalling left very little choice in the matter, councilor.¡±


    Brahvi Sonur¡¯s plump cheeks burned bright red on top of his flaxen-brown skin, no doubt he believed it was a hit at his weight, which had increased substantially since his tenure on the Nu¡¯ Council began. It wasn¡¯t, though, it easily could have been. Surprisingly, Brahvi did the smart thing and let the possible insult on his size fade away. Shaken, clammy hands wiped across his fine but plain trousers before he cleared his throat and adjusted a lavish sash across his chest. .


    ¡°Grand Lord White, on the matter of Trallengard-¡±


    ¡°On the matter of the nation of rebels that we were just discussing?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir- Lord. We-¡±


    ¡° We the Nu¡¯ councilors or we the Coalition of Nobles?¡±


    Silence congealed the air.


    No one dared to even breathe, should they accidentally set White off. A swift victory, even for him. The Nu¡¯ Council usually offered him good sparring of the wits every so often but he really couldn¡¯t complain, reasonably at least. White quite enjoyed the fear-laden silence and hated to break it, however, he was a busy man with many things to do. He¡¯d wasted enough time playing with his toys as it was.


    ¡° Yes, yes. One of your representatives approached me, in my office, and demanded an update on the timeline to Trallengard¡¯s downfall¡­ on behalf of ¡®the Coalition of Nobles¡¯. On behalf of you. All of you. My trusted twelve.¡±


    White waited for someone to correct him, to point out that he had included himself in the count of those few he trusted. None did. He stood without a sound and felt a smile crack across his hidden lips as every council member jolted in their seats as if a current of lightning charged through each of them. They stayed seated, whether, from fear or deference, White didn¡¯t know. Couldn¡¯t care. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡° One hundred soldiers, twenty trackers, and however much I decree from your coffers. All of you. No exceptions. Of the hundred at least thirty must use pikes, fifteen must be archers, and of course, all will be equipped with a Blancanan blade of their choosing. I will personally march after the culprits with our combined forces and ensure that they pay for their crimes. In my absence, Reginald Enchan will act as interim leader of this council, following strict guidelines appointed by myself.¡±


    White turned and walked towards a set of lofty wooden doors lined with sparkling marble. He ran gloved fingers along the marble inlaid trim, causing it to flash with a silver light four times, which prompted the Serpints standing outside to open the doors. White did not necessarily need or want anyone to open doors for him but for some reason, it stood as a sign of power to nobles and leaders throughout time. Personally, he thought it would be more assertive to use casting to fling the doors open, though, anyone would be able to cast two simple doors open. Not many could send a signal through his estate''s marble, which meant he had control of when doors were opened, control over those who opened them. Absolute control.


    Grand Councilor White stopped, standing deliberately on the threshold, and held up a finger, his back facing the Nu¡¯ Council members. They were all staring, sweating with worried hearts, he didn¡¯t have to look back. He knew. Every person in that room was aware of how much damage Lord White could do with one finger. They knew what it meant if he commanded his Serpints to close the doors behind him.


    White laughed loud enough to shake and inevitably shatter the silence sitting over the council chambers and snapped his fingers.


    ¡°Ah, come, come. They know not what they do.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t resist turning to see their horrified faces. No matter how many times it happened, they were never prepared for it. White thought it was lovely.


    All at once, at his short, barely spoken command, hundreds of Serpints covered in White armor adorned with the dazzling sharp-tipped ¡°W'''' front and center. Some used precious gemstones to decorate the image, others opted to simply burn or brand it into their chest plates. He¡¯d seen a few with essence spiraling throughout the symbol, creating amazing, and usually daunting, effects. Every Serpint wore their half-mask to showcase undeniable control of their emotions and being, only revealing their mouth to onlookers, and Lord White.


    They dropped down from the high vaulted ceilings, slithered out from shadows created by the distant shelves stocked to the brim with keepers notes on past meetings, and walked towards their Lord and leader with nary a sound. The only thing that could be heard over the shuffling of lightly armored feet was the scraping that Serpints with larger weapons created as they drug their blades, hammers, and axes across the marble floor. Their arms slack faces stoic, and gaze cast forward, they strode slowly by each councilor, begetting them just enough time to fully take in their awe-inspiring, horrific visage.


    Reginald Enchan bowed his head atop clasped hands and whispered a prayer as the last Serpint lumbered past him.


    Who is it that you pray to, Enchan? Your God already stands before you.


    ¡°Close the door behind us, leave them locked in there until you see the last of your brethren disappear. Then, only then, may you let them out.¡±


    ***


    ¡°Locked. Again. Honestly, what joy does he still receive out of this treatment after so many years? Every single meeting he locks us in here, only to let us go after some indeterminate amount of time!¡±


    ¡°Until he doesn¡¯t.¡± Lelona Ghouro sucked a long drag off of her rolled giggleweed.


    Councilor Viviani Vin Dreso only blanched. Whether she was offended by the curtness of Lelona¡¯s remark or the dank stench of the giggleweed was irrelevant, to Reginald Enchan at the least. He had no time for the bickering of his council mates today, no matter how much he truly enjoyed seeing Vivani put in her place.


    Truly a wonder why she was ever chosen to sit among us. Sonur at least brings his disgusting wealth to the table. Poor councilor Vin Dreso has nothing now.


    She may not have admitted it yet but they all knew her daughter was dead and poor simple little Lili-Bon was the only reason the lowborn Vin Dreso family had ascended to the good graces of their Grand Lord Councilor White. Vivani¡¯s fate was clear enough to him.


    Regional Enchan walked to the back of the council chambers and pretended to peruse some ancient scrolls and loose-bound texts from the earliest council meetings. He¡¯d read them all before, of course, as he believed any councilor worth their time ought to, and often revisited them in the cumulative hours'' Lord White left them locked in the council chambers. Vivani was correct, White did it after every meeting; though, always for a viable reason, Enchan had come to find.


    Only a few short years back when he had actually been engrossed in re-reading the old texts, he¡¯d stumbled upon one of those very reasons. A small tunnel that opened only when two certain, quaint leather-bound books without titles upon their face were moved at the same time. Enchan immediately dove into that tunnel and began exploring after each and every meeting.


    As always, after Lord White left and the other councilors congregated at the front to bicker, complain, plot, and scheme like mindless beasts, Reginald Enchan made his way to the shelves in the furthest left corner of the gargantuan room. When he was sure that no one was looking his way Enchan removed the two small books and slid the entire shelf over to the right. Careful to close the passage behind him, he left the books on the floor outside the tunnel. An Indentured would come to clean the room and think nothing of placing it back on the shelf. It was their job, after all.


    As soon as the false shelf slid back over the hidden entrance the sound of his fellow councilors'' voices cut off and left Reginald Enchan in absolute silence. Accompanied by the unending dark of the tunnel, the silence had unnerved him the first time, now, however, Enchan knew what to do.


    One, two, three, four.


    Just like White¡¯s signal on the council chambers threshold, only in the tunnel, Enchan did not have to cast at all. Hundreds of brilliantly bright estorches shot to life at the fourth tap and illuminated his path. It had taken him nearly a year of stumbling around with a hastily crafted estorch before he ever realized there were empty sconces on the wall above him. Enchan filled them all on his own with slow, determined casting. The feat required more essence and will than he had cumulatively used in his last thirty years or so of life and Enchan was always met with exhausting sickness after, however, each bout of exhaustion was followed by a feeling of enormous vibrancy. A pure and unhindered vitality which his wife lovingly bade him against, as it was a feat that belonged to the younger men of the world.


    Problem was, Reginald didn¡¯t see many younger men, or women, left in the world. None of his own children had eclipsed the age of twenty-five. And that was exactly what he was going to talk to Lord White about. He didn¡¯t make a single misstep or wrong turn the whole way through the winding tunnels of the estate walls. Reginald knew exactly where he was going. Exactly what he was doing.


    Crete-Da-Torre. Please watch over me. I do this for my last son. My Zusil.


    Zusil Enchan was the very last of Reginald¡¯s children. An early nineteen, Zusil had watched as each of his eight brothers and sisters were called to replace the last in service of Lord White. Along with Reginald and his wife, Zusil witnessed their family shrink one member at a time. When news of Rhui¡¯s death reached home it had nearly broken Reginald, who sobbed openly in front of his youngest son for the first time he could remember. His lovely wife, Seultes Enchan, was entirely shattered. Despite her undying love for each of her children and husband, it was well known that Rhui had been her favorite, almost entirely due to his uncanny resemblance to her own father.


    Zusil simply comforted his mother by toying with her hair and whispering sweet words. Held his father close like an infant until his tears stopped and Reginald could care for poor Seultes. Then Zusil left to paint a magnificent portrait of his late brother. He hadn¡¯t spoken a word since. Didn¡¯t pick up a brush or pencil for the first time since his adolescence. Zusil¡¯s face was a cold resignation, an acceptance of the one fate he never desired. The one thing he should never have had to do.


    I do this for him.


    Reginald Enchan¡¯s sweat laden palm smeared against thick blankets of dust, dirt, grime, and forgotten particles that had sifted through the floorboards and walls of the longstanding estate. His heart pulsed into his fingertips as he pushed, hard. He¡¯d opened nearly every door he¡¯d come upon in his explorations and found a great deal of favorable short cuts, such as the one that gave way to Reginald¡¯s audible exertions. Light poured in like the ocean''s own waves, crashing over him and blinding his eyes for a moment with burning that wasn¡¯t wholly different from the saltine air of the port. When the agony of his eyes subsided Reginald saw a well-lit hall. Some corridor or another he¡¯d never come across simply walking the estate grounds. He had no idea where it was but Reginald Enchan knew for an irrefutable fact that Lord White would be there soon enough.


    He always made his way to this secret corridor after council meetings and Reginald followed behind him many times before from inside the tunnels but no matter how long he waited, he never witnessed Lord White come back out. Nor was he able to see what was in the lone room at the end of the corridor.


    Not wanting to waste any time and chance missing his Grand Lord, Reginald closed the section of false wall behind him to conceal the tunnel and rushed down the long corridor. As his eyes adjusted to the space around him he came to realize that it wasn¡¯t quite as bright as the rest of the estate. More of a bare minimum amount of lighting than anything. And the walls were¡­ odd. No marble or wood, only drab greystone bricks that looked as if they crumbled in more than one spot.


    Pointless to ponder about the architecture here Reginald. For the time being at least. What shall I say? How do I save my last remaining heir, my sweet, artistic young boy? If he comes to serve our Lord¡­ he shall surely die.


    Councilor Enchan stopped dead in his tracks and leaned his head against the greystone bricks. He could think of nothing other than their surprising chill against his skin. Reginald knew how Lord White operated. How he thought. Not so well as he would like to, of course, but much more than all the other councilors combined. Sniveling and begging would only warrant a hard smack- at best. Appealing to reason only worked when there was reasonable evidence to do so. Appealing to Grand Lord White¡¯s emotions in any manner was a tumultuous path at the least.


    Reginald¡¯s only hope to save his son lay in the fact that Lord White seemed to like him. Genuinely like him. Trusted him enough to give Councilor Enchan the position of speaker, which until recent developments, had been quite the occupational blessing. He could only hope that his Grand Lord would take pity on one of his most beloved subjects. On the despair that ransacked Reginald¡¯s very own abode, shambling those he had left to love.


    He stood and straightened his back, leaving the oddly bland wall inches away from his own body, and began walking down the corridor once more.


    No matter what. I do this for them. No matter what White offers, I will take it.


    It took no small amount of time of walking before Reginald finally spotted a thickly bolted door made of blue and green metals he¡¯d not seen elsewhere. He was starting to realize just how dismal the corridor truly was. Reginald also took note of the fact that he¡¯d never seen an inch of the estate unguarded¡­ yet no guards, Serpints or otherwise, were stationed along the lengthy route to the metal door.


    I¡¯ve time to think about these things later. I must focus on saving my family. Now. What. Do. I. Say?!


    His heart was beginning to beat so fast the rest of his body felt as if it was moving slower, engorged with blood in his thin veins, begging them to burst and free his being of the rush that ran through him. Anxiety-Anger-Hope-Pain shook Reginald like he was a child atop quaking grounds. He very similarly wanted to cry out for his own Mama. Fortunately, a cold, stern voice cut through the hazy tempest of anxious-angry-hopeful-pain and shock.


    Nothing, you imbecile. He is your Lord- your Grand Lord! He will speak first.


    His reason, his experience, in not only life but with Lord White specifically, spoke confidence back into his person. He had played these games for far too long to lose out now. He could do this. Reginald counted a slow ten in and out. Steadied his shaking hands.


    He had to do this!


    So, Reginald did what any good servant would, and waited. Stilled all thoughts. Froze all worries. Adopted his best formal stance. And waited. It only occurred to him that he¡¯d directly disobeyed White¡¯s will that the councilors stay in the Nu¡¯ Council chambers until allowed out when he heard heavy metal-laced footfalls coming from the dim world beyond his position in front of the blue/green metal door. He found himself nearly pressed against the door itself and had to breathe to a count once more before stepping away and standing tall.


    I can do this.


    White was close now, his massive steps resounded all about Reginald in the drab corridor, making the councilor wonder if White had any company tagging along. He¡¯d never brought anyone else before but their Grand Lord was known for concocting his own fair share of surprises over the years.


    And then Reginald thought about how White had reacted to the few things that had actually surprised him over the years. As wise and generous as their Grand Lord was he could be rather¡­ impulsive from time to time. Then he wondered if a servant, a loyal subject and speaker of the Nu¡¯ Council albeit, but a servant nonetheless, were to surprise Lord White in private quarters, would it elicit a good impulsive response, or a bad impulsive response?


    It would depend on the situation I suppose. A lovely surprise tryst in the bedroom? Welcome, I¡¯d imagine. Being accosted in a secret, dark, drab, dingy corridor¡­ huh.


    Even his professional sense of loyalty and deep noble sensibilities couldn¡¯t keep him from sweating now. Had he made a mistake? Wasn¡¯t much he could do about it now. White was nearly there.


    Reginald bowed his head low and waited for his Lord.


    I can do this. I will do this. For my family. For my hon-


    ***


    ¡°Fucking idiot. Now If you¡¯d have just stayed put, you¡¯d be alive!¡±


    White kicked Reginald Enchan¡¯s severed head hard and sent the hefty sack of shaggy black hair into the distant dark. The man¡¯s headless body still bowed, unaware of its missing vestige. Bloodshot forth from the gaping hole of a neck that remained for a moment, audibly splashing against the ground. White had to step back quickly to avoid getting blood on his cape. Casting didn¡¯t work the same down here, for anyone. Not even the Grand Lord Councilor himself. So White was even more agitated at having to physically avoid the splash.


    ¡°Fuck. I cared for you Reggie. Trusted you! Loved you, even¡­ your family too- even the ones I killed, I loved dearly, if only for their relation to you. You were a great man, a great friend to me, Reginald Enchan, and your death shall weigh heavy upon my heart.¡± White rested a gloved hand on the cooling body of his dear friend, his trusted advisor, and allowed himself a few quick tears behind his smooth, faceless mask. ¡°I will protect your last son, dear Reginald. This, I swear.¡± Lord White bowed his head and stood with a light giggle. ¡°Now, I must be off to talk to my other confidant!¡± He kicked the headless corpse to the side and sent the door before him open with the gentle press of his hand.


    ¡°Goodbye, dear Reggie. I¡¯m off to talk with ¡®God¡¯. Ah-hah!¡±

 Chapter Forty-Seven

    Chapter Forty-Seven


    ¡°Wait¡­ wait, what?¡± A mass of barely chewed berries slopped out of Amberosin¡¯s mouth. As far as Ta¡¯K was concerned she surely had the right to be so incredulous.


    ¡°Mhm. Both of you. Actually, this is a little ahead of schedule if I am being honest. Ha!¡±


    Mezir shoved another fistful of tiny fruit into his mouth and chomped with extremely obvious enjoyment. There was a loud shiiiiip sound from the large man as he suckled the berries in his mouth and drained them of all their delicious vitality. He too had more than a few escape his mouth, but Mezir was quick to catch them.


    ¡°Uhm- excuse me? Anything else to add to that or are we just supposed to marvel at your piggish manners?¡± Amberosin smirked and scooped some smooshed food off of her own face, quietly cleaned her finger, and leaned back on Ta¡¯K. The young woman definitely understood a thing or two about irony.


    He wondered if she could understand why his heart skipped when he watched her clear the berry from her finger.


    ¡°Ha!¡± Ta¡¯K nearly shot out of his skin at Mezir¡¯s loud laugh.


    Focus! She is no object of your fantasies. Father would be disappointed. Though, she did lean on him firmly- but does a firm, prolonged touch mean anything? Can friends not share a common sign of affection? His heart was racing too fast for a young man sitting and breathing didn¡¯t seem to help much because his body only pressed back against Amberosin¡¯s harder when he took a deep breath in. Ta¡¯K never held those kinds of feelings for anyone before, the romantic type, that is. He was too young before the Fracturing, too downtrodden and broken during his time at the mines to admire any man or woman for anything more than another broken, downtrodden sack of bone and flesh. Amberosin, though- she sparked something in his chest, his arms, his back- his loins.


    Ah, stop it you, cretin! There are more important matters afoot.


    Still, Ta¡¯K smiled to himself as Amberosin settled further into his side. He found his heart slowing of its own accord after she sat there a moment.


    ¡°Oh!¡± Mezir slapped his leg hard enough that a small creature scattered from nearby greenery. ¡°Ha! Dear, sister! You are just as witty as your mother ever was, I¡¯ll tell you one thing, she would be proud of that silver tongue and prize-winning smile. Alicena used those exact qualities to bewitch all of Blancana, Dweller¡¯s Rebellion included.¡±


    Amberosin tensed slightly, only for an instant, at the mention of her mother¡¯s name. When the tension passed she laughed.


    ¡°Yes, yes, I remember some of the good ole days, old man. Now stop changing the subject!¡±


    Amberosin chomped and slurped down berries nearly as loudly as Mezir but Ta¡¯K couldn¡¯t imagine it did anything to besmirch her visage. If anything it had only made Mezir seem even more rugged, like an incessantly jubilant wild man who ate, sat, and shit when it pleased him. They were both unkempt, supernatural beauties in Ta¡¯K¡¯s eyes. Granted, they were the only two kind faces he¡¯d met in the past decade that weren¡¯t dead. Yet.


    ¡°Right, right. Suppose it is only fair that you two learn about- the prophecy!¡± Mezir waved massive arms around wildly and made an ¡®oooooh¡¯ noise before bursting into another fit of entirely sincere laughter. ¡°No, no, I jest. Seriously though, it is quite the story, I suppose.¡± He stopped and looked up towards, squinting against the soft red rays of Noctra¡¯s dawn beneath Mother Moon Solas. ¡°Yes¡­ we should still have enough time for a short Telling, I¡¯d say.¡±


    A Telling!


    Ta¡¯K visibly perked up at the word, an action which sent the side of his chest into a deeper coalescence with Amberosin¡¯s firm warmth against him, but it hardly phased Ta¡¯K now.


    A Telling! He hadn¡¯t heard a real one of those in years.


    ¡°A short... Telling? Like one of Lenny¡¯s stories?¡±


    ¡°Yes! Ah, Lenny would have made a master Weaver, in another life.¡±


    Would have?


    ¡°Would have?¡± Amberosin¡¯s words mirrored his thoughts once more.


    ¡°Not to worry, not to worry. Lenny is fine, has been fine for a while now. He just hasn¡¯t been to Blancana in, oh, say about ten years or so.¡± Mezir gave a boyish smile, full of teeth and a secret long held.


    ¡°Wait so¡­ Lenny was, or has been¡­¡± Her head shot forward, though Amberosin kept her back pressed against Ta¡¯K. Purposely or not, he appreciated it, for the revelation they were both coming upon was one heavy with implications.


    ¡°Ta-da!¡± Mezir held his arms out wide and gave a short, mock bow.


    When both Ta¡¯K and Amberosin simply stared at him and his magical metal box, which was always near to the man, Mezir waved both hands in front of him, giggling like a manic child.


    ¡°Oh, dear, no, no need to look so morbidly shocked, the real Lenny is alive and well. Now, however, he utilizes most of his potential Weaver¡¯s talents to seduce¡­ well, damn near everyone in Trallenard, I¡¯d dare say.¡± Mezir shrugged both massively muscular shoulders, metal and flesh alike as if it was not worth talking about. ¡°You¡¯ll see when we get there. Now, do you want the story or not? We¡¯ve not got a lot of good daylight left to burn, so we must start the Telling now if we are to finish it in time!¡±


    Mezir instantly sat forward and assumed the position of a professional Weaver; legs crossed, back straight, hands set atop each thigh and held loosely with fingers barely making a circle. He sucked in a deep breath and adopted a grand grin. He looked just as Ta¡¯K remembered every Ta¡¯ Weaver looking in his youth. Confident and excited. Every true Weaver enjoyed their craft and Mezir certainly seemed to be having a good time.


    Ta¡¯K¡¯s framework hands produced his pipe and giggleweed before he¡¯d even had the thought.


    ¡°Yes! Any Telling worth a damn involves a little giggleweed! Only a little though, Amberosin I¡¯m looking at you, we don¡¯t need anybody incapacitated during our great escape.¡±


    Mezir winked at her as Ta¡¯K¡¯s fingers instinctively broke apart soft colorful buds into his long cedar pipe. Mezir grabbed a thin wick from his own pocket and snapped his fingers on the end, creating a small flame that he placed into the giggleweed. Smoke rose up and Ta¡¯K inhaled, passed it along to Mezir who did the same. Each held their own drag in as Amberosin took the pipe and looked at it, seemed to be untrusting of it.


    Mezir¡¯s cheeks were turning a harsher red. Ta¡¯K could feel his chest rebelling, begging to burst. Both motioned for her to hurry. Amberosin smiled through her uncertainty and held it to her lips longer than needed before sucking in a quick drag and holding it as she passed the pipe back to Ta¡¯K. Mezir held up three fingers and counted them down. At the fall of his last finger, all three blew their smoke out at once to the center of their circle.


    Mezir and Amberosin coughed horrendously, laughing all the while.


    Ta¡¯K simply sucked in another large hit when his lungs had cleared.


    I can¡¯t tell if this is something I should feel prideful about or not. Best giggleweed smoker? He felt a little pride.


    ¡°Okay, whoo, alright then. You two keep that to yourselves over there, it''s been a lot longer than I thought. Noctra be uplifted for your spirited gifts, but I am the old man now, aren¡¯t I?¡± Mezir giggled, appropriately, and Ta¡¯K could see the white of his eyes had already hazed over and gone a tad red around the edges. Still cognitive, but a little fuzzy.


    The man was flying.


    Amberosin, having intelligently been more reserved with her drag, also looked as red-eyed and hazed over as someone who¡¯d cleared a whole pipe¡¯s worth on their own. Though she motioned to Ta¡¯K for another, and he obliged. They all deserved the break. The levity. The peace.


    ¡°Ahm, right.¡± Mezir resumed his straight-backed pose, albeit much less rigid than before. ¡° So¡­ uh, this will not be in such a poetic form as stories from Ta¡¯ Weavers, for the sake of saving time. I can¡¯t imagine my poetry is any good anymore anyway! Ha!¡±


    Ta¡¯K smiled as he took another drag from the pipe, which he had to nearly pry from Amberosin¡¯s hands, as he recalled one of Mezir¡¯s poems; the man would recite them by the hundreds when he visited the Ta¡¯ Lands with Lord White¡¯s yearly procession. Only a year before the Fracturing Mezir showed a young Ta¡¯K and Ta¡¯Jir the true intricacies of poetic prose, though truthfully, Ta¡¯K had been more interested in his stories of beasts and battles along the road to the Ta¡¯ Lands. Since then, however, he¡¯d come to revel in the memory of those readings. He thought it would be a shame to miss out on another.


    Ta¡¯K held up a hand and produced a thick leather-bound book from his pack.


    Mezir¡¯s glazed eyes went wide and his intoxicated smile grew tenfold. He looked as if he barely held two great rivers behind each quivering eyelid.


    ¡°Oh! Did you hold on to it all these years? Ta¡¯K!¡± The big man¡¯s heavy arms wrapped around Ta¡¯K and squeezed until he was sure he would snap. At what felt very much like the last second of his spinal cords futile resistance, Mezir relented.


    He was sobbing and blubbering freely now.


    Amberosin laughed on the ground, Ta¡¯K¡¯s pipe held high in one hand.


    Guess I dropped that?


    He smirked and shook his head. She¡¯d definitely had another puff or two. Amberosin¡¯s stark white eyes leaked streams of exquisite joy down the sides of her face.


    ¡°Oh, my- Amb, you don¡¯t even understand! I- hells, I don¡¯t even understand- I used to keep this journal, right? Notes on beasts, creatures, Wilderfolk, and the sort. Snippets of information here and there about the politics of the day, though not due to any personal interest. Largely, a journal of everything I ever encountered- bound together with one of the incomplete works of Argonia Slib, not that I suspect you know who that is-¡±


    Amberosin shook her head still lost in a fit of laughter but Ta¡¯K was listening. Intent. He knew who Argonia Slib was.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah. A story for another time I suppose.¡± Mezir peered back up to the sky. ¡°Well, long story short, every addition I made to the man''s work, my own personal journal of journeys across Noctra alongside our father, Lord White- every single entry, I made in the form of poetry.¡± An arm waving from below stopped Mezir from continuing.


    Amberosin¡¯s laughter died down and she took a moment to catch her breath. ¡°Whoo¡­ this stuff¡­ this is good. Thank you.¡± She patted Ta¡¯K¡¯s arm and smiled, shaking her head before looking up at Mezir. ¡°But, dear brother, why? Why poetry?¡± Amberosin did her best pompous noble¡¯s impersonation and held a finger high in the air before quietly chuckling to herself.


    Mezir and Ta¡¯K each laughed in turn at her display until silence fell over them. Ta¡¯K took another long hit off his pipe and then tapped out the ashes before slipping it along with the wreath of giggleweed into his pack.


    ¡°Truth be told,¡± Mezir was still smiling like a fool, though his eyes seemed less dazed, more distant than anything, ¡°I don¡¯t know why, really. When our father swept me off of the streets of Blancana¡¯s slums and tossed me into his study without any explanation I just started reading. I had to do something to keep from going mad. The first book I picked up was a book of poetry. Ta¡¯ poetry, to be exact. A volume of ancient epics of heroes and gods, the basis for all Legends. New and old.¡± Mezir shot quick glances at each of them, smiling still, though much softer than before. ¡°Different story for another time, though. I fear we¡¯ve wasted much more daylight than originally intended.¡±


    Ta¡¯K and Amberosin gave quiet chuckles of their own, shifting to sit beside one another as before. Her leg brushed against his and the heat between them felt as if it were going to sear straight through his bones and leave Ta¡¯K nothing more than a pile of steaming mush.


    It''s just the giggleweed. Focus.


    ¡°All set? Alright. Good, Now, let me see here¡­.¡± Mezir flipped the sturdy leather-bound journal open to a page more than a quarter of the way through, thumbed over two more, and pointed with an excited, ¡°Ha!¡± He then read for a moment, his face going from a smoked out jubilation, to stern concentration. When he finished reading Mezir¡¯s features relaxed into a gentle, genuine smile. He cleared his throat.


    ¡°Everyone ready?¡±


    Both Amberosin and Ta¡¯K nodded without a word.


    ¡°Shaman¡¯s Secrets by Mezir De Blanacana.¡± Mezir closed his eyes and took a breath so large and full to the brim with air that his chest swelled at least twice it''s already massive size. Then, he whistled out a tiny bit of air, widening his lips as the whistle went on until he was breathing out in one steady stream. And he spoke.


    I


    ¡°Today I was blessed


    By the will of Shaman, yes


    Those most revered-


    III


    In the lands of the Venerable


    They laced the air with smoke


    And sent me;


    III


    On my way, on a trip


    Where I met two youthful lads,A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    One with an eye of steel


    And the other with a vital mind,


    Unfortunately-


    IV


    I left before a kinship formed


    Though friendship was evident;


    V


    They knew more than I


    Ever would, no matter


    How long my life-


    VI


    I¡¯ll never forget


    The dream I lived, that night


    Behind the lids of tired eyes


    A vision found its way


    To my mind;


    VII


    The images were hazy


    Quick and distorted


    Loud and confused


    Hopeful and concerning


    All the same-


    VIII


    I saw another couple, clearly


    An amber arrow


    And a bone-white blade.


    IX


    Now, I fear I understand


    The secret of the Shaman.¡±


    Mezir eyed the journal in his hand while taking a paced, deep breath. He raised his eyebrow and sharply closed the book, smiling at the jolted Ta¡¯K and Amberosin.


    ¡°Eh, not my best work, and far too short for a proper telling, but you get the idea?¡±


    Ta¡¯K nodded his head up and down frantically. It was profound and narrative just like all-


    ¡°Not at all.¡± Amberosin cocked her head sideways. ¡°I mean¡­ I get the story up to meeting the kids, and that you had a vision, and maybe it¡¯s just because my mother never exposed me to any literature unrelated to combat¡­ but what the fuck is that vision all about? Amber arrow? Bone white blade?¡± She shook her head slightly before snapping her head up to Mezir. ¡°Ah, sorry. Great poem otherwise, I think.¡±


    Mezir simply laughed and waved a dismissal hand at the apology.


    ¡° Nonsense, I was a shit poet, dear sister.¡± He mimicked Amberosin¡¯s own haughty noble voice and shot her a wink. ¡°I was, however, good at keeping secrets. There are layers of convoluted code in these poems, all revealing more detailed pictures. I learned to make my writings a bit more cryptic after finding our father rummaging through my notes, part of some grand scheme or another I¡¯m sure. The code for this one is quite simple to break honestly, but I always sprinkled a few false trails in to keep him off the scent of the truth, for a while at least.¡±


    Mezir uncrossed his muscular legs and slid closer to both Ta¡¯K and Amberosin, holding the journal out and pointing at the words ¡°... Amber arrow,¡± and, ¡°.. bone-white blade.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sure Ta¡¯K already caught this seeing as it is really just a play on the Ta¡¯ vocabulary.¡±


    Ta¡¯K shook his head in an energetic affirmation, shrugging his shoulders at Amberosin who eyed him whimsically. It was almost like she knew Ta¡¯K had no idea what Mezir was talking about.


    ¡°Good, good. So, look here Amberosin.¡± Mezir places his shoulder just barely in Ta¡¯K¡¯s view to give Amberosin a more personal view of the words. Ta¡¯K peered quietly over his shoulder, shaking his head in approval anytime Mezir glanced his way. ¡° This here, you¡¯ll recognize, since it''s part of your own name. ¡®Amber¡¯, see?¡±She nodded and held her eyebrow high. Ta¡¯K thought she looked a lot like Mezir making that face.


    ¡°Brilliant! Would have considered you quite impish if you couldn¡¯t recognize your own name, little sister. This actually brings us to the next part in your lesson-¡± they had quite the same sense of humor as well, it seemed, as Amberosin was already smiling before the punchline, ¡°- this is literally your name.¡± She socked him in his metal arm, didn¡¯t even flinch at the impact against her skin, which split and leaked at the knuckles. They both laughed.


    Their banter and play made Ta¡¯K suddenly long for the company of his elder brother.


    ¡°Care to explain, asshole?¡± She sounded just like Ta¡¯K talking to Ta¡¯Jir after one of his supreme philosophical reveals. Same levity.


    ¡°¡®Rosin¡¯ is one of many Ta words for an arrow. Amber is a material natural to Noctra, so in all dialects is simply amber. Therefore, an amber arrow would be¡­¡±


    ¡°Amber rosin. Amber-rosin. Huh. Okay¡­ I can see that.¡± She smirked at Mezir. ¡° But what does a bone-white blade have to do with this guy?¡± She motioned back to Ta¡¯K with a quick flick of her head.


    ¡°May I tell her?¡± Mezir was looking directly at Ta¡¯K.


    Ta¡¯K only nodded in return. Even if he was allowed to speak he wasn¡¯t sure he could handle the explanation. Not without at least a little more giggleweed, at the least.


    Amberosin eyed Ta¡¯K for a moment after Mezir turned back to the journal, pointing once more.


    ¡°Alright, so names and all get a little¡­ difficult with the Ta¡¯ language. I¡¯m sure you realized that our silently miraculous friend here has the word Ta¡¯ in his name, yeah? Every member of the Ta¡¯ Uma clan was exactly the same. Do you know what the word on its own means?¡±


    Amberosin indicated that she did not.


    ¡°Venerable. Ta¡¯ is venerable, in dialect, in life¡­ and in death.¡±


    Ta¡¯K appreciated the sentiment and laid a soft hand on Mezir¡¯s back to show it.


    Amberosin¡¯s eyebrows furrowed, relaxed, and furrowed once more. ¡°Okay¡­ so what is ¡®Uma?¡±


    ¡°One.¡±


    ¡°So the Ta¡¯ Uma translates to-¡±


    ¡°Roughly.¡±


    ¡°Alright brother, roughly translates to¡­ Venerable One.¡± A thousand questions passed over her eyes but Amberosin only pursed her lips and nodded.


    Ta¡¯K himself had questions about the connection between their head clan, Ta¡¯ Uma, and the deserts between Blancana and the rest of Noctra; Uma¡¯ Lands. The matter regularly found itself at the forefront of his lonesome thoughts. As always, however, the world moved on without giving him an answer.


    ¡° Our lone bandaged ¡°Venerable One¡± is known as Ta¡¯K. ¡°¡®K¡± alone in the native dialect means knife, blade, or at the least, sharp rock for cutting. Therefore if we are to use it for the word ¡®blade¡¯...¡±


    ¡°Venerable Blade.¡± She looked at the ground for a moment before smiling and finding Ta¡¯K¡¯s gaze. ¡°That is extremely badass.¡±


    Ta¡¯K raised his hands and moved his head to the side. Psh, if you say so.


    ¡°But¡­ the bone-white part¡­ is that just fluff?¡±


    Mezir once more looked to Ta¡¯K who bowed his head in quick approval.


    ¡°He had a brother, the second boy from the story, named Ta¡¯Jir. His moniker, Jir, can be translated into a few different words but among the Ta¡¯ Uma, it meant only one thing; bone white. I do believe it was in reference to his uncommonly pale complexion at birth, though, by the time I met him Ta¡¯Jir was darker than even I. And his younger brother.¡± Mezir made a face between a smirk and a grimace. ¡°It fits in the story because Ta¡¯ Uma traditions state that if you witness one of your kin perish, especially in a violent manner, you are to adopt their name, their moniker, and therefore their being, into your own. So technically our friend''s full name would be ¡°Ta¡¯K-Ta¡¯Jir¡± or ¡°Takjir¡± depending on his own personal preference.¡±


    Ta¡¯K had a hard time not reliving his brother¡¯s death again then and there, the mention of his name alone was enough to lather Ta¡¯K¡¯s mind into a thick mesh of guilt and sorrow, but he was able to meet Amberosin¡¯s suddenly crystal clear, piercing white eyes and keep himself together. She stared at him with a question burning on the tip of her tongue.


    ¡°He prefers Ta¡¯K, for now at least.¡± Mezir cut their stare like a flint knife.


    ¡°How¡¯d you-¡±


    Mezir¡¯s metal hand shot up, one finger pointed towards the sky, cleaving her question.


    ¡°Sorry sis, that story will have to wait for another time. I think we¡¯ve got company.¡±


    ***


    Ta¡¯K was already moving, his arms spread out wide to either side as he slid in front of Mezir and Amberosin. He faced the Wilders in the direction that she¡¯d been facing the entire time. Mezir¡¯s back was to the Wilders but he¡¯d been the one to make the announcement.


    What am I missing? What can¡¯t I see?


    Left to right, right to left, up to down, and down to up- Amberosin had a damn near panoramic view of the entire vast forests before her and she couldn¡¯t see a single thing that indicated any unwanted visitors, human or otherwise.


    No animals? Not a single scurrying creature. That is never a good sign.


    ¡°Oh my, that is never a good sign. Listen.¡± Mezir turned towards Ta¡¯K and the Wilders in question. Still sitting with his legs crossed.


    His eyes were devoid of any glazed, dazed sheen and she felt herself returning to some state close to normal; the prospect of danger seemed to tarnish all effects of the giggleweed for both of them. Fortunately. Their bandaged friend seemed completely unaffected by the near entire pipes worth he¡¯d smoked, if anything Amberosin thought he¡¯d moved even quicker.


    All three listened intently. All three heard the exact same chilling and unnatural silence.


    Just like the stairs. With Lord White.


    ¡°Just like the stairs. With father.¡±


    ¡°But¡­ different.¡± Amberosin stepped beside Ta¡¯K.


    ¡°Right.¡± Mezir stood just behind Ta¡¯K, next to her.


    Standing in an off-kilter triangle formation, Amberosin thought that they looked rather formidable, though their image did little to cut through the tension. Amberosin tried desperately to follow both men¡¯s sightline hoping she might redeem herself some pride, she¡¯d always been the best tracker and hunter she¡¯d known, though she was realizing she didn¡¯t know many of either to begin with. She didn¡¯t know many people at all, truthfully, but she was certain she knew how to spot a person hiding. Amberosin couldn¡¯t see anything except trees.


    A lot of trees. Trees larger than any man-made wall on all of Noctra. Wooden giants that swayed from left to right, dancing on the eerily silent breeze. The young saplings, which she could normally hear squealing and creaking as they danced alongside their elders, waltzed in time without so much as a peep. Somehow the forced silence was much worse out in the endless expanse of the Wilders than it had been in the stairwell.


    Amberosin tried to focus on where Mezir and Ta¡¯K were staring, swallowing hard against the tension in her neck. She tried to use the silence to sharpen her vision, squinted hoping to force a tunnel to the answer, and sighed in frustration. Thankfully, unlike in the stairwell with Lord White, she could still hear herself.


    And Mezir.


    ¡°So¡­. am I seriously a simpleton that can¡¯t recognize her own name or are you two fucking around?¡±


    ¡°No. You¡¯re no dunce, Amberosin. Our observers are simply adept at hiding.¡±


    Mezir¡¯s arm shot forth and clarified where his gaze landed, stuck like exposed sap to the trunk of a single, lone gigan-palm. It didn¡¯t dance and sway with the others around it, in fact, the gigan-palm remained oblivious to the guidance of Noctra¡¯s waltzing winds and protruded skyward above the Wilder¡¯s verdant canopy. A titan among giants.


    ¡°They?¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ll see. Just wait. Watch.¡±


    Amberosin quieted the voice inside that generally refuted orders of any kind, especially from ¡®powerful¡¯ men, and waited. Watched. She felt like she was going to start vibrating and shedding her skin if she didn¡¯t get the chance to move soon. Amberosin was getting the hint of a sweat that usually meant it was time to fight or run. Until recent events involving Heria, she never ran. The fight was too much fun. And she had two fairly skilled companions this time around.


    I really hope it''s a good one. Her muscles tensed and set themselves up to spring in excitement at the first sign of movement. She smiled. Mezir noticed either the smile or the tension, likely both, and patted her shoulder with his right hand. The metal was cold, as metal should be. Not like Ta¡¯K.


    ¡°Now, keep yourself collected here Amberosin. Calm.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m always calm- well, okay, not always- but I swear it''s a good excitement. This time.¡±


    ¡°Not like Senfe?¡±


    Senfe.


    The word froze her brain for a moment, stopped all thoughts, all reason. Suddenly Amberosin could see Senfe¡¯s treacherous, beautiful, hideous, perfect face smiling at her over the years. Then, she saw it caved. Rotted. Bloody. Something began building in her that Amberosin had never experienced before. She¡¯d handled the guilt with reason, she thought, but even so the image of Senfe dead, the memory of the blood on her hands¡­ it made her feel sick. She¡¯d never thought her first real kill would be such a close friend.


    ¡°No. Not at all like Senfe.¡±


    ¡°Good. We may not need to kill anyone.¡±


    May not? Does that mean he starts every encounter with the notion that he will definitely have to kill someone? No escape, no incapacitation? This really is war, huh? That or Mezir is entirely insane like his father. Like our father.


    ¡°Not sure how I feel about that.¡± She laughed her building sickness back down.


    ¡°A normal person would feel good about it.¡±


    Mezir didn¡¯t even look her way. No smile. He was whispering. Focusing in on his target. Amberosin eyed the giant tree once more. Unmoving, undisturbed by the silently turbulent gusts of wind, it looked ominous. Unnatural amidst the largest collection of nature on Noctra. A chill built in her legs and shook slightly before she reigned it in. The blood in her veins was running hot now, speeding here and there making sure every part of her body was full to the brim, prepared to attack.


    Is he implying that I¡¯m not normal? She also didn¡¯t know how to feel about that.


    Ta¡¯K¡¯s right arm gingerly brushed back and sent a wave throughout her skin. She knew it wasn¡¯t casting, Mezir had made it clear how difficult it was to get essence through her body, but something went through her. Calmed her. She tapped his shoulder in a wordless thanks and let herself slowly transform that anxiety into a hearty amount of energy and excitement.


    ¡°I can¡¯t fucking handle this, my arms feel like they''re going to burst out of my skin if I don¡¯t do something- anything! Especially considering I can¡¯t tell what the fuck we are looking-¡±


    The gigan-palm slid to the left, zagged one way, shot back the other, and stopped a good twenty paces closer than it had been. The ground behind it was undisturbed. Amberosin was suddenly fine with standing still a moment longer.


    ¡°Wha¡­ what?¡±


    ¡°Ha! Much like you, dear sister, our guests are much for staying in one place for very long either.¡±


    ¡°Guests? You know them?¡±


    Ta¡¯K looked back towards Mezir, affirming that he had the same question.


    ¡°Yes, more or less. I used to know quite a few Wilderfolk. Unfortunately, I introduced a few to my father before figuring out what a massive pile of shit he is. They may have been friends to me before but he has had ten years to corrupt and manipulate them. I have no idea what to expect here, aside from the fact that I am almost positive we are about to see a lot of little golden lights buzzing about.¡±


    There was a silence in their group as they stared onward, for Ameberosin at least.


    Mezir laughed and threw a hand over his mouth to catch it before it got too loud. ¡°No, Ta¡¯K, I am not still dizzy from the giggleweed.¡±


    Amberosin gave her own chuckle, though she felt very much left out of the joke.


    The three survivors of White¡¯s wrath, his precise, planned rage, stood side by side now, their eyes glued to the bark laden titan. After mere moments of their sudden silence, Mezir¡¯s prediction came true. Even Amberosin caught sight of the thousands upon thousands of little glittering golden lights darting from underneath the gigan-palm¡¯s exposed roots as they swarmed into the sky.


    She swore she heard little voices, giggles, and other human sounds as the cloud of gold advanced upon them. It was only when the mass made its way a few paces away that she saw the vague outline of minuscule, naked bodies.


    ¡°Damn. Jealous Mezir?¡± Amberosin couldn¡¯t help herself. She was nervous.


    ¡°Only about as much as you are.¡± He raised an eyebrow and flicked his sight over to a golden body with massive breasts and cock.


    ¡°Well¡­ must be quite a lot then because that¡­ that is damn impressive.¡±


    ¡°Best of both worlds,¡± Mezir muttered to her as he stepped forward and bowed low on one knee.


    ¡°Great, venerable, honored Lumifaen; to what do we owe the pleasure?¡±


    They replied in unison. ¡°You have been summoned.¡±


    ¡°Have we now? May I ask who has summoned us? And how do they know of our whereabouts?¡±


    Amberosin couldn¡¯t tell if it was a smart move to ask the little beings questions, they could easily lie, but Mezir spoke to them as if they were a merchant peddling wares. Polite, but aware of ulterior intent.


    ¡°You, Mezir. Ta¡¯K. Amberosin- have all been summoned for an audience with our Queen.¡±


    ¡°Queen? I thought there were no genders among your people. No sexes, well¡­ all sexes, no genders- no labels of the sort at least. How did you manage to gain a queen if there are no women or men of your kind?¡±


    ¡° We have been freed from the hands of our captors, the Mukeko, by the gracious actions of our Blessed.¡±


    Amberosin didn¡¯t have a clue what they were talking about and as far as she could tell Ta¡¯K wasn¡¯t much better off. He cocked his head sideways at each new term; Lumifaen, Mukeko, Blessed.


    Mezir recognized each and Amberosin could tell that he did not like what he was hearing. His shoulders rolled, hands clenched into fists, neck cracked like a wilder oak split in two by a made bolt of lightning. Then, he sighed.


    ¡°Mukeko, aye? I feared he¡¯d go to them when I left. Poor bastards...though, still- you¡¯ve not given your queen a name. No matter how gracious or Blessed she may be, I cannot in good conscience bring these two into such dangerous, unknown circumstances, and present them to a nameless monarch who- .¡±


    ¡°Heria.¡±


    Mezir stopped with his hands in the air to motion behind him at Amberosin and Ta¡¯K, freezing himself in a position like he was ready to dive into waters far below.


    ¡°Excuse me?¡±


    ¡°We, the Lumifaen, serve our Blessed, gracious, Queen Heria. She requests your prescience. She shall have it.¡±


    Suddenly, Amberosin lost sight of the sky.

 Chapter Forty-Eight

    The world came back all at once. Solas¡¯ red-tinged rays dominated the sky now, so far as she knew it could have been anywhere from a few hours to a few days since she¡¯d last seen the sky. Even with the scarlet Mother Moon blanketing her rays softly about the world, Amberosin had to avert her gaze after only a few moments.


    ¡°Still a bit sensitive, yeah?¡± Mezir smiled and stood next to her.


    ¡°I thought I was getting used to it these most recent days, but after being in there-¡± Amberosin motioned to the four, now flaccid, lips of dirt and stone which swallowed them during their encounter with the Lumifaen, ¡°- I feel like I¡¯m starting over again.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Young sister, I feel exactly the same.¡±


    She knew Mezir meant it in an entirely different and mysterious way, but he definitely meant it. Mezir didn¡¯t offer so much as a flinch when the walls of minerals clasped shut above them. Before Amberosin or Ta¡¯K could even react, Mezir held out a round gathering of essence- golden, red, and blue throughout- and illuminated their spacious prison.


    ¡°Huh. Damn things haven¡¯t changed a bit, have they?¡±


    With that Mezir sat exactly where he had been standing, tapped the ground with three deliberate palm strikes, and closed his eyes with legs crossed. Amberosin looked to Ta¡¯K who simply shrugged in her direction before sitting with his legs crossed, tapping the ground, and going still aside from his visibly deep breathing. Amberosin felt a bit awkward but managed to follow suit soon enough. She watched them each for a moment trying her best to mimic their positions. Hands resting on the thighs was easy enough, closed eyes were no problem, but Amberosin¡¯s spine absolutely refused to unfurl into such a straight line as the other¡¯s.


    Suppose I¡¯ve been crouching in the shadows of the Wilder canopy and Blancana for quite some time now. Can¡¯t be too surprised can I? She took a deep breath and sat straight as she could. I should be fine as long as I don¡¯t fall asleep.


    Amberosin, however, could never pass up a good daytime nap. Within only five short breaths she¡¯d faded into a place between consciousness and slumber.


    Oh fuck me, was her last waking thought.


    Just like every other attempt, she¡¯d ever made at meditation Amberosin suddenly found herself unconscious, only to be woken by the sound of a resonating snore. Her own snoring, of course. It crescendoed with familiar jagged skips and hummed out on its dying breath as she peeled her eyes open- and promptly shut them once again to keep them from searing out of her sleep-addled skull.


    Then there was shade. Ta¡¯K stood over her with his cloak spread wide. Mezir laughed talking to a tiny golden flying creature- a Lumifaen - and came over to her side.


    And there they were. Amberosin, Ta¡¯K, and Mezir. They stood among what looked like millions of glowing, glittering Wilderfolk. Most had heads like the unopened bud of a flower, though aside from that, they seemed to be quite the mismatch or parts. Some even had scars left about their transparent bodies next to unnatural looking wings or clawed toes.


    According to what Mezir said before, the Lumifaen were all born without sex or gender, deciding only later in life how they would like to be identified. Nearly all seemed to have settled on ¡°they or them¡± and sported different variations of ¡° typical male/female¡± bodies. Amberosin thought that seemed like a fairly decent way of living one¡¯s life; getting to know oneself before declaring anything to the rest of the world. She couldn¡¯t imagine many people getting away with something like that in Blancana, however. Not any more.


    ¡°This is¡­ unbelievable.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes it is.¡±


    Mezir spoke, sounding much less amazed than Amberosin. Ta¡¯K shook his head in affirmation, though she got the feeling this wasn¡¯t his first time seeing something like this either. He barely reacted to the golden-glittering mass of Lumifaens darting across his body, swirling about him from head to toe. The Lumifaen appeared to be enamored with him.


    ¡°Seems they like at least one of us. That has to be good, right?¡±


    Ta¡¯K began nodding his head in another positive motion but stopped as Mezir spoke.


    ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m not too sure yet. Though, I have to imagine whatever this is-'''' he waved his hands towards Ta¡¯K in a quick, loose motion, ¡°- will come in handy at some point or another while we are here.¡±


    All three companions chuckled together, standing there in front of a mass of gold, an image of the essence of life itself, and stared into the wave of beings before them. Amberosin let her chuckle fade sooner than she¡¯d intended and, being the observant bastards that they were, both Mezir and Ta¡¯K noticed. Each man turned towards her with fading smiles.


    ¡°What is it?¡± Mezir was already tracking her sightline, flawlessly, of course. ¡°Oh, yes¡­ I noticed that too.¡± He fell silent and looked to the ground.


    Ta¡¯K tapped Mezir¡¯s shoulder and held his arms out to the sides, care to explain?


    ¡°Heh, right. Sorry¡­. But you¡¯re going to kick yourself in the ass for missing it, young man.¡± Amberosin saw Ta¡¯K¡¯s head cock sideways and a moment later Mezir burst out laughing, causing a wave of fright to jump throughout the sea of Lumifaen. ¡°That is¡­ that is fucking disgusting! Oh, you are going to fit right in with those freaks in Trallengard¡­ but you¡¯re right. Now is not the time. So look, Ta¡¯K. Follow the ground from before our feet all the way out to the nearest tree.¡±


    Ta¡¯K¡¯s bandaged head cocked to the other side before he shook himself and looked to the ground. After less than a full thirty seconds, he slammed the base of his palm into his head. Both Mezir and Amberosin laughed this time, no need for ¡°thought-speak¡± as Mezir referred to it, when the sentiment was so expertly displayed.


    ¡°Ah! See! I told you. I may be only half Ta¡¯ and old as you so kindly pointed out, but I do actually know a thing or two.¡± Both men patted each other''s shoulders and laughed with undulating abdomens. Amberosin smiled but scrunched her eyebrows.


    ¡°But¡­ what does it mean? Where are all the trees? This is the middle of the Wilders so far as I can tell¡­. So why such a big ass barren circle?¡±


    She turned to find both men looking at her once more. Ta¡¯K¡¯s expression was unreadable, for obvious reasons, but Mezir¡¯s eyes went soft and his smile became rueful.


    ¡°I do believe we will see soon enough. Unfortunately.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Listen.¡±


    Amberosin did as Mezir commanded and found herself with a feeling of unwelcome familiarity. She¡¯d been here before, three times too many in the last few days alone.


    ¡°Silent¡­ again. Are they casting on us still?¡±


    ¡°No. Their silence seems to be natural. They speak in unison most of the time so I believe it¡¯s meant to be a courtesy, odd as it is.¡±


    She could see Mezir tense in her peripheral. His right arm rattled with a cold clang from within and seemed to be leaking a pitch-black vapor.


    Don¡¯t stare. That would be rude. I think. ¡°Alright, but what is so unfortunate about an odd courtesy?¡±


    ¡°If they aren¡¯t speaking, they are most likely listening. Waiting. Judging.¡±


    ¡°Judging what?¡± Amberosin turned toward Mezir utterly bewildered. She couldn¡¯t stop herself glancing at his large, restless metal arm, just to see if it had been her imagination. There was no black mist or rattling.


    ¡°Our worth. If we can be trusted.¡± Mezir raised his eyebrow high. He¡¯d definitely seen her glance.


    Damn. But¡­ ¡°What does this have to do with Heria?¡±


    Every Lumifaen within sight quickly filled with red, pink, and purple essence that made their small bodies shine to an almost unbearable degree. She held her hands up and grimaced. Amberosin hated to feel vulnerable and her sensitive eyesight felt increasingly like a glaring weakness. Then she felt a warm presence above her left hand and moved it down only to spot a floating metal palm with fingers spread out into diamond-shaped sections. There was a slight hum of essence as Ta¡¯K¡¯s palm captured and filtered the light.


    He hadn¡¯t even stopped looking forward at the Lumifaen himself so far as she could tell. And he still thought about me? And Mezir- Ta¡¯K¡¯s other framework metal palm rested on Mezir¡¯s huge shoulder, calming the big man. What a fucking saint. She smiled and sent a silent ''thanks'' his way before taking in the scene before her once again.


    The light of the Lumifaen had begun to fade back to an almost homogenous golden-glitter of essence held within them but even with Ta¡¯K¡¯s assistance, Amberosin found herself needing to squint. All of their miniature hands were raised high and there was a sudden burst of sound from a choir of thousands.


    ¡°Blessed Heria! Blessed Queen! Blessed!¡±


    Amberosin instinctually held her hands over her ears to block the noise but the voices of the Lumifaen seemed to find their way straight to her brain, regardless of her attempts. Mezir stood taller than before and a whimsical look overtook the large man before a new smile spread across his lips.


    ¡°Well, Amberosin, it seems this may have everything to do with Heria.¡±


    The mass of golden-lit bodies of the Lumifaen split down the middle in a synchronized motion, clearing a wide set road bordered by their floating bodies surprisingly deep into the large, empty field. Amberosin figured White¡¯s estate could fit into the empty space a few times over and found herself realizing she knew absolutely nothing about the Wilders. She never imagined there would be an area so devoid of life inside the great forest, let alone an area full of absolutely nothing- aside from miniature naked, glittering- enviable- bodies. Amberosin also never considered the fact that she could ever be happy to see Heria alive and well but the sight of the Alta woman walking down the dead center of the newly emptied field sent her body into a frenzy.


    She smiled at them as she approached; a calm, natural, and Amberosin couldn¡¯t help but notice, a beautiful smile. The massive dreaded fur hanging from Heria¡¯s arms were adorned with small flowers, buds with full petals of all colors, that each shone with the telltale signs of essence. She wore a fairly thin and airy garb that barely hid her body from their peering eyes- well, Amberosin¡¯s peering eyes.


    Mezir bowed and coughed. Ta¡¯K had already stepped a few feet ahead of them and taken the same bow. Again, Amberosin was behind. Again, she cursed herself before slamming down to one knee. Unlike Ta¡¯K and Mezir, however, Amberosin kept her eyes on Heria as she approached. Not even a few weeks before Heria had been trying to kill her, and Amberosin hadn¡¯t felt much better about Heria at the time as it was, but now¡­ she couldn¡¯t stop staring.


    Heria really is beautiful. Even with those teeth.


    Amberosin smiled directly up at Heria with a slight, intentional rise in her eyebrows and saw the woman blush as she stopped before them. Amberosin wondered if her eyes looked as hungry for Heria as she felt. She didn¡¯t understand how Ta¡¯K kept his eyes on the ground so respectfully with Heria right there.


    Damn respectable man¡­ though he did peek at me before, didn¡¯t he? Hm. So I¡¯ve got some options. She felt her grin widen and tried to tone it down. She knew she must have looked entirely mad. She felt entirely mad. Be still, my beating heart. For fucks sake.


    Heria raised a hand high and tilted her head forward. She looked at home in her new role, to Amberosin at the least.


    ¡°Dear Lumifaen, you have brought to me the allies I requested in an absolutely expeditious manner. For that, I praise you. I thank you. I appreciate you, ever so much. And with that, I bid you rest. Our allies and I have much to discuss.¡±


    A small golden glow swirled about Heria for a moment as a single Lumifaen darted up her length and sent a willowy trail of golden smoke into the air from the tip of their extended finger. As soon as the smoke rose above Heria all the Lumifaen bowed while in the air and seemingly vanished all at once. Amberosin was sure they still had to be there, unseen, but present. There was nowhere nearby for them to hide. Nothing except empty land pocked with long emerald blades of grass between patches of dark brown dirt- Noctra¡¯s first layer of thick skin.


    The dirt¡­


    Amberosin lost focus of Heria and the others for a moment as she bent her head down to the ground beneath her and closed her eyes. Listening. Waiting. And sure enough, directly beneath their little group, she could hear the hushed whispers of Lumifaen. She tried desperately to make out any words or phrases but from where she was everything sounded foreign, barring the obvious tinge of excitement that rattled conspicuously loud atop their whispers.


    ¡°Amberosin?¡±


    Mezir was standing now, as was Ta¡¯K. Both men, along with Heria and the single remaining Lumifaen, were staring down at her.


    ¡°Ah, sorry- I mean, my apologies,¡± Amberosin stood and faced Heria, gave a swift, lazy bow, of sorts, and smiled,¡°My Lady.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    Heria blushed fiercely and Amberosin could see her physically purse her lips against a larger smile. ¡°Just Heria will do, my Lady.¡±


    Amberosin felt, and displayed genuine confusion.


    ¡°I am undoubtedly no Lady of any sort- oh. Right.¡± She was. She was Grand Lord White¡¯s legitimate daughter. ¡°Shit.¡±


    She suddenly felt sapped of all joy and playfulness. Amberosin gave a quaint smile to Heria before resigning to look at the ground for a moment. She remained silent as they started their walk with Heria across the barren field. Mezir and Heria spoke quietly a few steps ahead of her but Ta¡¯K had immediately fallen in beside her. He didn¡¯t try to stand closer to her or touch her, didn¡¯t even look at her, though, Amberosin appreciated him. His presence. Because he was there because Ta¡¯K had chosen to be there. Beside her. In a position that let her decide if she wanted his comfort. And she did. Amberosin moved closer to Ta¡¯K and let her arm touch his own. The small warmth coming from beneath his wrappings sent a thin layer of peace over her growing concern. She was able to reason a bit better.


    Everyone is anxious to leave, to escape White¡¯s domain, everyone has been anxious to do so for quite a time now- but the reality of their revolt was just now truly catching up to Amberosin.


    Patri was dead. Gone. He¡¯d never made his way out. After all those years of dragging himself through the grime of Blancana¡¯s streets, after rising to the top of the one and only surviving guild left in White¡¯s ¡°grand new world¡±, Patri¡¯s chance at a life of wealth and grandeur had been stolen by Senfe.


    Senfe who Patri had been utterly devoted to. Senfe, who he loved with everything.


    Senfe, who Amberosin had gored to a muddied pulp with her own two hands.


    She knew better than to look down at her hands, but she did so anyway, unable to keep her eyes from falling down. They were shaking, pale, and still healing over more than a few scrapes and cuts, but they were hers- yet the sight of them at the end of her wrists made her feel unexpectedly sick. Amberosin could nearly see the blood again, thick and fresh, scattered with chunks of dirt and clumps of skin, bone, brain- the remnants of Senfe. Of a woman, she¡¯d spent a lifetime admiring.


    A stark mad, raving bitch who killed one of the only good men left in Blancana. Patri!


    Amberosin was suddenly dizzy with rage and found herself leaning more heavily into Ta¡¯K beside her. She no longer heard Mezir or Heria speaking and she was entirely unable to tear her eyes from the bloody mess about her hands, the gore she knew was not there. Amberosin¡¯s heart raced faster and faster, begging her to give in to the throes of rampant anxiety and despair, though all it managed to drag out from her was pure, primal rage. She clenched her fist and watched the blood vanish in an instant.


    I killed Senfe. Me. With my own hands, I started a vengeance in Patri¡¯s name.


    And it¡¯s only just begun.


    ***


    Mezir was conflicted about leaving Ta¡¯K and Amberosin outside of Heria¡¯s quarters, he definitely wanted them involved in any planning if it was at all possible, but they all understood what had frozen Amberosin. It would be best if someone was there with her when she came back to the reality at hand, so Heria suggested Ta¡¯K stay by her side and enter when they were good and ready. An expertly level headed response if he¡¯d ever seen one.


    Or do I only think that because she looks¡­. Different? No-No; Well¡­


    ¡°Mezir?¡± Heria shot him a high-browed look, ¡°You¡¯re starting to look like Amberosin out there, are you well?¡± She offered him a slight smile and held her arm towards a large table with two chairs sat directly next to each other. There was also a pair of cups and a pitcher full of steaming brown liquid that gave off a thick, sweet smell; Mezir was certain neither had been there when they¡¯d entered.


    Alright, Mezzie. Focus.


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Mezir sat and leaned back, legs wide, arms slack. ¡°Ah- fucks sake- I haven¡¯t felt a chair this plush in ages, whatever is this made of?¡± He gently patted the arms of the large, padded seating.


    ¡°Honestly-¡± Heria leaned back in much the same manner as he, despite the open bottom of her dress, and let out a genuine sigh of relief, ¡°- I¡¯ve got no fucking clue. It is wonderful though, is it not?¡± She smiled, he could see her teeth rising, but it was soft. Burdened. Mezir could still feel the conflicting emotions of Heria from when they¡¯d connected in the field. They¡¯d never met before, but he knew her. And she knew him.


    ¡°Good to see that your new prestige has not gone to your head quite yet, dear Lady.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. The pompous demeanor and reckless behavior of true nobility all come in good time, I imagine.¡± Again, a layered smile. Forced. Somber, though no less genuine. No less welcome.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Mezir¡¯s smile burned hot on his cheeks, looked as real as he wanted it to, ¡° it took me quite some years to become a large enough ass to mingle with the nobles of Blancana. Other nations were hardly so¡­. Posh?¡±


    ¡°Ha!¡± Heria¡¯s laugh was as real as any, ¡° You¡¯ve got that right! No other nation, in all of Noctra¡¯s history, was ever so obviously divided by class. By material wealth. Extravagance.¡±


    They each chuckled at her limp, flamboyantly waved wrist.


    ¡°Wonderful things, material wealth and extravagance, both technically infinite and readily available to everyone, but hoarded and bastardized by the noble class. It was never meant to be restricted to the few, not even in my father¡¯s twisted view, you know? He didn¡¯t want a noble class to begin with. One of his ¡®necessary evils¡¯. Ha. Bastard.¡±


    ¡°Ah, yes. I am expertly familiar with Lord White¡¯s twisted views.¡± Heria sat, staring forward for a moment as her smile softened second by second. ¡°The whole time he cut, stitched, unstitched, recut, tore, and disposed of the body I was born with, the body of Helena De Seires¡­ He kept telling me he was exposing my true beauty. Chiseling the rough, neglected stone into a living masterpiece. Fucking prick.¡± Her eyes welled with tears.


    ¡°Yet,¡± Mezir leaned forward, speaking softly, keeping his eyes locked on her own, ¡°he has the audacity to attempt small retributions for his own sake, to prove he is a good man. For example, he kept the tenants of Matrius intact after reducing every city to nothing but rubble. He slaughtered them all, regardless of age or ideology simply for residing in Matrius- but in his eyes, it was redeemed because, in his magnanimous wisdom, White kept rape and forced servitude outlawed across his great new nation. Punishable by immediate death, even. A fantastic tenant in my opinion, only the meager and cowardly feel the need to resort to such heinous acts, and they do deserve death. But I hate it. I hate that he¡¯s done something I wholeheartedly agree with. That I would do myself if in the same scenario. He corrupts all the good in this world with his touch, whether by choice or some rampant invisible sickness, Blessed Queen. But he did not corrupt you.¡±


    Heria¡¯s tears spilled over and ran down her face, outlining a pained smile. She kept her eyes on Mezir¡¯s and was leaning forward now to hear him better, to get closer.


    ¡°Nor did he complete you. Or ¡®expose¡¯ you. Or make you better than you were. True, White used his touch to change parts of you physically, tried to sculpt you to fit some purpose or another in his never-ending scheme- but you refused to relent. You let your indomitable spirit shine the moment you learned the truth. You fought back, using the tools that bastard-prick thrust upon you, and you helped to vanquish one of his greatest assets. And became a fucking Queen!¡±


    Heria laughed and her tears fell down onto Mezir, still warm as they splashed against his own bearded cheeks. ¡°Thank you, Mezir. I am not the sum of what has been done to me, I know¡­ but it can be nice to be reminded now and then.¡± She shot him a coy smile and scrunched her nose before she shook her head.


    ¡°You know, with or without that connection in the field¡­ I think we would have made fast friends, whether as Helena, or Helena, or whoever the hell you choose to be.¡± Mezir gave his own boyish grin in return and leaned back a bit.


    ¡°However,¡± Heria rubbed her eyes dry and sat straight almost like a skewed reflection of Mezir himself, ¡°the time for such pleasantries is over, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    Mezir conceded with a short nod as he heard footsteps approaching from behind. Ta¡¯K and Amberosin had arrived and it was time to discuss the business of their escape. ¡°Yes, Blessed Queen, we must now look forward. Though, before we do so, I feel obligated to tell you, in regards to Ragoth-¡±


    ¡°No need, dear Mezir. I know of his fate. He spoke to me from the shadows of my terrinhive, well, mocked me more than anything, but it was undoubtedly Ragoth.¡±


    Mezir was legitimately stunned upon hearing the news. Amberosin let out a sigh from behind him, glad to hear of her uncle''s survival, despite his deceits.


    She is one truly admirable young person. As is Heria. As is Ta¡¯K. They are Noctra¡¯s true future, aren¡¯t they?


    ¡°Right¡­. Well then, where shall we begin?¡±


    ¡°Your ship.¡±


    ¡°My ship?¡±


    ¡°The one set to carry us all to Trallengard.¡±


    Right. Dumbass. ¡°Oh, yes, right. Um¡­ what about it exactly?¡±


    ¡°It is gone. Obliterated to a searing pile of ash and scorched oaks. The Lumifaen reported seeing a group of heavily armored soldiers with a white ¡®W¡¯ emblazoned on their chest plates before seeing an ominous tower of black smoke. By the time they found the wreckage, White¡¯s Serpints were long gone.¡±


    Mezir sat for a moment, face stern, shaking like quaking stone that refused to falter to Noctra¡¯s immense will, despite an unstable foundation. His metal arm rattled once, twice, three times- there was a black mist seeping from between the stacked metal plates that made up Mezir¡¯s false arm. I need to breathe. To think. This was always a possibility, I knew it was. It is hardly important. We¡¯ve got to move on in a way a father would never expect.


    Ta¡¯K¡¯s light framework hand rested on his shoulder and Mezir felt a natural calm begin to nest in his tightening chest. He sighed.


    ¡°Of course. I was worried Fernwick¡¯s crew might be followed or bribed, though, I did think I¡¯d have a bit more warning. When I posed as a tavern owner I usually ended up one step ahead of any development. White¡¯s guards have loose lips when around the familiar company.¡± Mezir shook his head. ¡°Aside from Captain Fernwick¡¯s fate, however, we cannot allow ourselves to dwell on this for the time being. I wish him the best. We move on.¡±


    ¡°And how do we do that?¡± Amberosin took her seat at a newly added chair across the table. Grimaced at the cup of liquid before her.


    That Lumifaen that was with Heria, are they bringing the chairs? The drink?


    Mezir looked to the pitcher on the table, the full glasses that no one had poured themselves. Ta¡¯K grabbed the one before him, peeled back his wrappings, casting a shadow atop his actual visage, and downed his brown drink in one swig.


    Heria eyed him with apparent surprise before smiling.


    ¡°Much braver than I when I first saw and smelled that concoction. I abhor the taste honestly, but it is unequaled in its energizing potency. I¡¯ve been here nary a week and with the aid of that brew I¡¯ve reformed an entire kingdom. Careful, though, Venerable Ta¡¯K, the crash is quite severe.¡±


    Where are they?


    Ta¡¯K held up a hand and shook his head. ¡°Not my first time,¡± he insinuated.


    ¡°Ah, yes. Of course. My apologies- For everything.¡±


    Heria glanced between Ta¡¯K and Amberosin. Each nodded in turn. Amberosin¡¯s question hung in the air over the quartet in uncomfortable silence, though, as awkward as it was for Mezir to witness them fidget their way into fast friendship, it gave Mezir ample time to listen. To find the answer to his own question.


    Where are they? The pitcher was full again.


    When? A single flower adorned the center of their table now.


    How?  Just as Heria moved to speak again, he finally heard it.


    A gasp. A slight crackle that ended with a nigh imperceivable sigh that faded into the air. Essence, fading essence, which could mean only one thing.


    Casting! Of course! Mezir was barely able to hide his inherent jubilation.


    Wilderfolk were a damn near mystery to him, despite his filling of multiple journals on their anatomy and behaviors, and always made him uncomfortable if he was being honest. Casting? Casting he understood. Casting, he loved.


    ¡°Now-¡±


    Mezir snapped his fingers, a sound that echoed off the gutted innards of the unending gigan-pine and cut Heria short. On the table before him was a lone Lumifaen frozen in place with a rigid mask of shock over their face. Their own fingers were also in a snapping pose as if they had notice Mezir¡¯s attention shifting hand and moved to counter at the last second.


    Too little, too late.


    ¡°My apologies, Blessed Queen-¡±, Mezir bowed his head in Heria¡¯s direction, ¡°-friends-¡± he nodded towards Amberosin and Ta¡¯K who each sat forward staring at the Lumifaen that had surely not been there a moment before, ¡°- I do hate to interrupt, truly in this case, but I simply cannot focus on the matters at hand knowing there is someone unseen in the room. No matter how courteous they may be. By appearances, may I assume they work under your direction, Heria? Are they allowed to listen?¡±


    She nodded away the interruption with ease, not even a tightening of her jaw; Heria didn¡¯t miss a beat, ¡° Apology not needed, sir. No matter my station among the Lumifaen and Mukeko, I am still but a soldier in your vast coalition against Lord White. Standing before you is Ji-Hu, my second in command- if you will. A liaison between myself and the vastly varied Lumifaen culture since my arrival here amidst the Wilders.¡±


    So the Mukeko live? That is a small relief. Somewhat.


    ¡°So, Ji-Hu,¡± Mezir replied, ¡° is to be trusted, Blessed Queen?¡±


    Heria eyed the Lumifaen for a brief second before smirking, ¡°Ji-Hu can be a bit overzealous, often forgetting their place when their Blessed requests to be left unaccompanied in her meetings. But¡­ I do trust the Lumifaen there before you, enough at least to allow them to stay in our company. For the time being.¡± She smiled at Mezir who snapped once more. A disembodied gasp announced Mezir¡¯s release on Ji-Hu, who upon having a will of their own once more, bowed low before him and Heria.


    ¡°Forgive my enthusiasm, I am not yet acquainted with the intricacies of freedom. To both of you, my Lord, my Blessed Lady, I beg your forgiveness in my indiscretion-¡±


    Ta¡¯K slammed his twice emptied slender cup of wood on the table before an entirely empty pitcher.


    ¡°Forgiven, entirely forgiven, so long as you do not bring out any more of¡­ whatever that is to our friend here.¡± Mezir gave his friendliest of smiles and offered one finger to the tiny creature. ¡®¡°It is a pleasure to meet you.¡± Ji-Hu chuckled in return and shook Mezir¡¯s finger without so much as another word before flying over to sit upon Heria¡¯s left shoulder.


    Ta¡¯K pointed at Mezir with a stern metal finger but his forearms trembled like he was trying to shake off his skin. Once he saw his shaking arm, he laid his hand on the table and looked to the side, away from Mezir.


    Amberosin smiled, shook her head, and asked her question once again.


    ¡°This is nice and all, truthfully, but¡­ where do we go from here? What do we do?¡±


    Everyone situated around the table looked to one another, offering no words or thoughts on the matter, staring blankly into the future. Finally, Mezir cleared his throat.


    ¡°I¡­ I did have one contingency for a situation somewhat similar to this... Though I am not sure that any of you are going to like it.¡±


    ¡°Oh, great, that means it¡¯ll fit right in with the last few years of my life.¡± Amberosin smiled at him but a quiet worry sat upon her cheeks.


    Heria and Ta¡¯K chuckled, though neither took their gaze off of Mezir. Ji-Hu¡¯s face was expressionless, but they too sat forward. Curious and intent as the others.


    ¡°Well, and this is going to sound like an utterly obvious, useless sentiment, but the best thing to do is what your enemy least expects, correct?¡±


    All around the table heads nodded slowly, Amberosin and Heria shared a rather concerned look. Ta¡¯K fidgeted with his empty wooden cup.


    ¡°Good. So we must take into consideration the string of events thus far, mainly, what was our last big move?¡±


    ¡°Escaping- or, helping me to escape, from Lord White.¡±


    ¡°Yes! Yes, good, Amberosin! We just escaped his grasps, so what would he least expect us to do?¡±


    Heria raised an eyebrow high and glanced at Ta¡¯K and Amberosin in turn before smirking and looking back to Mezir.


    ¡°Care to speed this along a bit, meister?¡±


    Mezir cracked a savage grin and nodded.


    ¡°Yes. Right.¡± He sat for a moment without saying a word, his eyes on the table. When he looked up he put on his most impish and confident smile. In short¡­.


    ¡°We are going to turn me in. Just give me right to him. No tricks or traps or plans of the sort.¡±


    None of their party around the table seemed too keen on the idea, as he expected, and warned. Mezir bellowed a hearty, deep laugh into the thickly silent room before he turned to Heria. ¡°Oh, yes. Also, Heria?¡±


    She gave him a dumbfounded, slack-jawed nod as an answer.


    ¡°We are going to use the Mukeko to do it. Ha!¡±

 Chapter Forty-Nine

    Chapter Forty-Nine


    The overcast of soft red light that sat on the air began to dwindle into a violet glow, serenely announcing Luna¡¯s domination of the sky once more. Normally, Amberosin would¡¯ve taken that as a sign to begin pursuing sleep, but not on this night. On this night, Amberosin was wide awake with an electrifying array of emotions; namely, a severe sense of dread.


    Watching Mezir take his place in the dead center of an open terrinhive compounded that dread in her chest with a venomous mixture of anger, sorrow, and inextinguishable feelings of betrayal. Atop it all was a stone fortification of unmatched admiration. It was tearing her apart.


    ¡°Oh don¡¯t look at me like that, not you three. You¡¯re supposed to understand me! I suppose I truly am amongst the company of imbeciles-¡±


    Mezir¡¯s dramatized demonstration at the table, surely meant as a jest, had been stopped by Heria¡¯s massive, leathery palm with an audible crack against his bushy bearded cheek. The woman¡¯s huge arms were deceptively fast, a fact Amberosin knew all too well. She was also well aware of the fact that Heria didn¡¯t hold back. When she swung, she swung with everything.


    Amberosin was as equally impressed with Heria¡¯s strength and speed as she was with Mezir¡¯s ability to laugh off such a mighty, unexpected blow. Heria looked like she was caught between the notions of apologizing fiercely to Mezir and balling her fist and taking another go at him.


    ¡°Ha! Now that is a response I both understand and respect, Heria! Voids, that fucking hurt!¡± Mezir giggled to himself for a moment while holding his left hand to the afflicted cheek and shot forth a few quick streams of blue light into his face. ¡°Much better.¡±Mezir smiled with boyishly filled cheeks at their shocked faces for a few moments before Heria finally spoke.


    ¡°You will die. If you¡¯re lucky, White will kill you immediately. What do you expect us to do then, Mezir? Why bring us together, establish these connections, just- just to...¡± Heria¡¯s words faded as she looked upon Mezir.


    ¡°Just to fuck off?¡± He still smiled, though his cheeks relented some, saddening the glint in his eyes. ¡°Ah, guess I am a bit like my old man, aren¡¯t I?¡± Mezir suddenly appeared older. Weaker. He hunched and shook his head, suddenly deflated by the prospect of being anything like his father.


    Heria sighed and softened her voice. ¡°I am¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Mezir. You are only like your father in the sharing of your extreme intellect. Your ability to plan and perform. I should not underestimate or berate you, no matter my station. I never meant to liken you to such a monstrous madman.¡± She laid a soft hand on the cheek she¡¯d smacked. ¡°Though, I am not sorry for the smack and I will do it again if need be.¡±


    ¡°I do find myself as more of a charming madman as opposed to monstrous. And I do concede, the slap was absolutely deserved. I often forget that my plans do not formulate in everyone else''s mind as they do my own.¡± Just like that, Mezir¡¯s contagious spark had come back to life. He smiled like a young street rat who was just offered a tart full of jelly.


    One part, happy. One part, hungry. Completely high on desire.


    ¡°I suppose I should explain-¡±


    Amberosin was lost by that point. Her thoughts were thrown into a chaotic frenzy like loose leaves caught in the wind, spinning round and round, clamoring into each other, and falling away before she could catch their meaning. Too many questions. Too many feelings. Too much shit thrown at her far too quickly. She felt confused and weak. Nauseous- dizzy with fear that she was going to lose what little, tattered strands of a family she had left. She¡¯d spent far too long thinking she was alone to let go of everything- everyone, now. Amberosin thought about how selfish Mezir was being. Alternatively, she considered how he was likely suggesting that they trade his life for theirs.


    What an honorable fucking piece of shit. Fucking fantastic. What about Trallengard? What about victory? What about everything? Everyone? What about- Amberosin felt small and pathetic. She barely heard herself speak out loud over the pounding heart in her ears; both because of her heart''s veracity, and her voice''s weakness. Her weakness. She spoke with tears spilling over and a quiver in her voice.


    ¡°What about me?¡±


    Mezir stopped mid-sentence, stalling some energized explanation of the wildly impossible plan he¡¯d concocted, and fell down to his knees before her.


    ¡°Amberosin.¡± He smiled and cupped her face gingerly in his hands. ¡°Dear sister¡­. Have you truly gone lame?¡± Mezir cackled once with a swift and playful kiss on Amberosin¡¯s forehead as he rose, ¡°I was just explaining your, and Ta¡¯K¡¯s, part in the new and improved plan, silly girl! And here I thought you were quietly listening to your elder brother, like a good sista.


    The pitch perfect of the noble impersonation did it. Amberosin burst into tears laughing and no one blamed her. No one judged her. Only Mezir poked any fun, but he seemed to feel it was his right. Or duty. Or some other confounding nonsense he held in his head. She found she didn¡¯t mind it though. What could she do, but laugh? After a few moments of remembering how to breathe properly, she calmed herself and stood with the others.


    ¡°Alright, smartass, take it from the top for your slightly slow uh- sista.¡±


    In short, she was to travel with Ta¡¯K, on foot, all the way to Trallengard. On their way, they were to ¡®collect the power hidden in stories¡¯ told by locals in each and every wayward village or hobble.


    ¡°No tale or lore of the locals is inconsequential. Trace them to the truth and gain their power, or blessing- or what have you- I¡¯m not quite sure, I¡¯ve never found one- but you two will find them all! Ha!¡±


    ¡°Was that part of the prophecy?¡±


    ¡°It is now! Heria,¡± the beautifully adorned Blessed Queen jumped at the sound of her name coming out of the large man¡¯s mouth so suddenly, ¡°You will await my return and detain me upon arrival? Right?¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Amberosin missed that part of the plan.


    ¡°Yes. Good- Ji-Hu!¡± She then realized she¡¯d missed most of the plan; she¡¯d forgotten the little creature was even there.


    ¡°Yes!¡± They squeaked in a glitter of purple beneath their translucent skin.


    ¡°Gather the other Lumi and prepare! You¡¯ve got a prisoner to take!¡±


    ***


    Ta¡¯K stood with stiffness in every muscle, entirely stoic next to Amberosin. He may as well have been carved from stone. All around him Lumifaen flew with glittering whispers and sighs, commanding hundreds of tree-like beings from one task to the next. The Mukeko, as Mezir had informed Ta¡¯K, were older than even the Ta¡¯, and had lived an absolutely benevolent and peaceful existence for millennia. Then they encountered Lord White. Only a few short months after their first meeting, the Mukeko had usurped and enslaved all Lumifaen and driven out many of the other Wilderfolk.


    ¡°You may see things that appear to be cruel, and make no mistake, they likely are, but remember young Ta¡¯K¡­ some cruelty is deserved.¡± Mezir smiled and walked towards his position between the inactive terrinhive and four massive Mukeko.


    No time for questions or explanations anymore. The plan was in motion.


    Amberosin was extremely quiet beside him and Ta¡¯K couldn¡¯t help but notice as she glanced around for Heria, as if she was hoping the Blessed Queen could somehow still stop this. She likely could, for a moment or two. But none of them, not even all of them together, could hold Mezir back against his will. Ta¡¯K¡¯s father had been very much the same.


    A pride ridden madness that seems to come with age.


    He sighed and leaned close to Amberosin. She pressed gently back into his touch and let out one single, silent sob before turning into his chest and shaking her head. Ta¡¯K held Amberosin close as Lumifaen tightened the knot about Mezir¡¯s wrist and started to beg the terrinhive to wake. Hundreds of tiny, glowing, golden-glittering hands were held high at the base of the limp section of living land until it convulsed once, twice, three times before suddenly snapping shut and diving into the ground.


    And Mezir was gone. Just like that. Ta¡¯K and Amberosin were on their own for the foreseeable future, something he found to be quite a bittersweet notion. Had Mezir simply gone ahead to meet them later Ta¡¯K would have been ecstatic for the time with Amberosin, the journey back to Trallengard, however, he could not shake the feeling that he may never see Mezir again. His arms squeezed tighter around Amberosin and he buried his head on top of hers, letting his own silent tears soak his bandages.


    He was afraid. He was tired. He was lost.


    But he would keep her safe. No matter what.


    ***


    Morning came upon them like an unwelcome dream that was completely detached from any semblance of sleep. All the world around him felt like a distant memory when Solas reigned supreme once again. A chilling fog fell down upon the Lumifaen¡¯s domain and shrouded them in a mysterious, fuzzy glow, like distant lights flickering off and on in time with one another. Amberosin still snored soundly with her head in his lap when Ta¡¯K finally spotted Heria making her way towards them through the wispy veil.


    ¡°We could just say fuck all to Mezir¡¯s plan, couldn¡¯t we? Considering he¡¯s likely not much longer for this world as it is.¡± She spoke with a smile but Ta¡¯K was unable to hear it in her voice. She knew they wouldn¡¯t. They¡¯d do everything that he asked, despite their own reservations.


    Heria and Ta¡¯K both looked down upon Amberosin sleeping in a fairly audible manner. Smiling. Thinking their own separate thoughts about the young woman there before them. The only person either of them had ever met that was completely incapable of casting. Of using essence. Someone that, in technical terms, should be one of the most inconsequential beings on the planet. Someone they would both die for.


    Heria¡¯s large hand stroked Amberosin¡¯s cheek.


    ¡°Not sure why I feel so bad for her. Why I want her, specifically, to have better. To have more. But¡­ I do. Could it be residual from bonding with Mezir?¡± Heria¡¯s eyes found his bandaged face.


    Ta¡¯K only shrugged in return. There was no way to know, not really. Not easily, at least.


    ¡°Right¡­¡± Heria¡¯s mouth opened and closed more than once before she took in a deep breath and spoke, quieter than before, ¡°You know, he didn¡¯t even ask about Korrin.¡± She laughed, unconvinced. ¡°I bet he saw her pod in there and knew instantly. Didn¡¯t need to ask.¡±


    He had. He¡¯d even sent Ta¡¯K a quick mental message about the young woman¡¯s current state. Mainly about how weird it was seeing her with two hands. Ta¡¯K held a hand to Heria and replayed his exact words in the man¡¯s burly voice.


    ¡°Ha! Fucking¡­ ah. I guess we are all in now, aren¡¯t we?¡±


    He nodded. Slow. Unexcited. But decided nonetheless.


    ¡°So you will leave today?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Ta¡¯K spoke to her mind, a voice all his own.


    Heria widened her eyes for a moment before smirking, ¡°Sounds a bit younger than I imagine you to be.¡±


    ¡°Haven¡¯t heard my own voice since I was ten, Blessed.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Right. I¡¯m-¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Ta¡¯K waved a hand, dismissing the apology. ¡°I hope one day to hear it once more. To know it. And I hope you are there beside me when I do, Heria.¡±


    She let tears cascade down her cheeks as she smiled, nodding her head up and down a good four or five times before she laughed. ¡°I¡¯d like that, Ta¡¯K.¡±


    ¡°Hmumb- hiyah-¡± Amberosin suddenly choked back a snore full of drool and sprang forward fighting for air, nearly slamming her head into Heria¡¯s chin as she rose. Face red, eyes leaking, mouth beset with sleep and drool, she smiled at Heria as soon as she caught her breath. ¡°Morning beautiful.¡± She bowed her head loosely before spitting on the ground. Amberosin absentmindedly swept dirt over top of the spit.


    Ta¡¯K and Heria laughed hard enough that they sent themselves backwards onto the ground, eyes closed and hands wrapped about their guts. When Ta¡¯K caught hold of himself and opened his eyes he nearly lost his breath once more. A viridescent sea of emerald swayed from one side to the next above them. The Lumifaen mentioned they¡¯d be moving to a section of Wilder with more natural, stationary, plant life by morning, mainly due to the uncertainty of the Mukeko¡¯s fate, but he never expected anything so grand.


    Heria spotted him staring skyward, breathless.


    ¡°Ji-Hu tells me this is an ancient section of the Mother Forest- a term that evidently only refers to the Wilders across Blancana and not all of Noctra, though I am still not entirely sure if that is correct. Either way, these beauties are legitimate, gigantic, and entirely natural wildertrees.¡± Her face contorted into a series of questions. ¡°That being said, I suppose the Mukeko¡¯s method of creating more forest is actually part of the natural landscape¡­ Huh.¡±


    Ta¡¯K nodded, entirely oblivious to Heria¡¯s own pondering to his side. He hadn¡¯t seen such a complete, unperverted scene of life in the Wilders since his last days in the Ta¡¯ Lands. Over ten years ago. He could still name every variation of tree, leaf, bug, and beast.


    He felt at home.


    ***


    Amberosin decided to take the chance at a private piss behind some nearby shrubbery while Ta¡¯K and Heria laughed their respective asses off at her morning state. She was exceptionally glad to have their company and found herself trying to speed along her steaming stream so she wasn¡¯t left without them for too long. Left with her thoughts. Worries. What she often felt were pitiable concerns. Things that had often plagued her in the days since Ragoth¡¯s first supposed death.


    Who do I have? Who do I trust? Who am I? What do I have? What do I cherish? Recently added, thanks to her revealed lineage, there was a brand new worry slumbering lazily atop the others, waiting for the perfect time to topple Amberosin¡¯s last nerve.


    What am I?


    The last thought rang out inside her head so loudly that it melded with the symphony of chirping, singing, growling, shuffling, and howling that rang out from each and every direction. Myriads of sound mixed together, choking out the quieter creatures and happenings that were more distant but still, over it all, she could hear her very own words riding an audible wave. Forever at the apex of sound, the forefront of her mind. So long as she was alone.


    She hiked up her trousers hastily and felt glad to know that the thoughts could plague her no more once she was back with the others. Amberosin could always keep moving if she didn¡¯t think too much about things, usually. She was nearly all the way back around the unbelievably massive base of her chosen ¡°pee-tree¡± when she slammed into a stationary Heria rubbing her right knuckles against the palm of her left hand.


    Both women stood nearly nose to nose with one another. Neither fell from their shared impact or recoiled once they realized who was before them.


    ¡°Sorry, I didn¡¯t mean to surprise you like that, Lady Amberosin.¡±


    Amberosin returned Heria¡¯s knowing smile, doubled it¡¯s length across her own cheeks, and shook her head. ¡° I don¡¯t think I will ever get used to that idea. Being a ¡®Lady¡¯ and all¡­ but I like when you say it to me.¡± She shot out a quick wink and poked Heria¡¯s muscular fur ridden shoulder. ¡°Blessed Lady.¡±


    Heria gave an exaggerated highbrow look and eyed Amberosin up and down before giving a single shrug. ¡°I¡¯d not be opposed.¡± The once contradictory duo of women paused only for a moment before they laughed together and leaned their heads as close as two long-lived lovers. Should anyone be looking or listening in they would never have been able to discern just how completely the two had despised each other only weeks before.


    Heria¡¯s laughter faded first. ¡° Amberosin¡­ I,¡± her eyes grew languished and distant, ¡° I can¡¯t apologize enough for how I treated you. I-¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Why apologize? We were enemies then- well, opponents at least. I said some awful things to you and you responded in kind; add the fact that you evidently weren¡¯t really yourself, to begin with, and I honestly see nothing for you to apologize for. We may have been enemies before but now¡­ now we¡¯re¡­¡±


    ¡°The Lumifaen call you all my ¡®allies¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Fuck that. We are friends, Heria Du-Helena De Seires, Blessed Queen of the Lumifaen, and Mukeko of the Wilders. My Lady.¡± Amberosin bent her knees in a terribly lazy bow and bumped Heria with her rising head.


    Heria gawked at Amberosin with salty oceans building in her eyes.


    ¡°Oh. no- no, don¡¯t cry! Shit, I¡¯m sorry, so, so sorry!¡±


    Heria¡¯s expression immediately morphed into a serene, savage smile. She laughed again, so hard this time that she was forced to lean against the tree trunk beside them.


    ¡°I¡¯m glad that I held back against you in the courtyard, Amberosin. I thought I was doing it for Me- I mean, for Ragoth- but¡­ I think I¡¯m better off for you being around. I know you didn¡¯t see what we all did in the field, didn¡¯t feel everything from everyone all at once, but everyone there in that circle, we saw you Ameberosin. We saw you through so many eyes and perspectives and-¡±


    ¡°Wait. Did you just say you were holding back?¡± What a fucking Legend.


    Heria lost her breath in another fit of boisterous joy.


    ***


    Their walk back together was far too short in Heria¡¯s opinion. She still had so much to tell Amberosin, advice to impart on her before she left to sneak across Noctra with Ta¡¯K, but time was running out. As soon as the morning fog faded Ta¡¯K and Amberosin were set to leave.


    ¡°Amberosin.¡±


    Heria waited for her friend to cease her perverse chuckling. She seemed to have found great joy in the explicit nudity of the Lumifaen, glancing from left to right with a mischievous grin on her face. Heria placed one of her huge hands atop Amberosin¡¯s lean shoulder and stared into her enchanting snow-white eyes. Terrifying and enamoring all the same.


    ¡°You are incredibly strong. Infuriatingly fast. Unbelievably stubborn. You¡¯ve got a wit matched only by your brother and father, each prodigal in their own regards. You, Amberosin, are literally one of a kind on this planet. So far as I know there is not a single being left on Noctra that cannot cast or at least manifest essence in some way. There is no one like you.¡±


    ¡°You forgot my domineering beauty.¡± Amberosin smiled but her laugh was weak.


    ¡°Listen, please. You are one of the fiercest, youngest warriors to ever bless the roads of Noctra. I doubt you¡¯ll ever find a person, man, woman, Legend, or otherwise who can best you in a fair fight while at full health. I would¡¯ve surely slipped up and faltered during our encounters had you not been so obviously starved. You would have capitalized. Just like with Senfe.¡±


    The name seemed to visibly sting Amberosin but she kept a soft smile.


    ¡°But¡­ you are a woman. A young, lovely, spirited woman. You are traveling with a magnificent man. A moral, humble, and kind young man. He is an outlier. No matter what you¡¯ve heard about White¡¯s actions on banning rape or subjugation of someone due to their sex, it is all just talk. Men still kill, rape, and beat women simply for rejecting their advances. For speaking out of turn. For fun.¡± Heria let the silence hang there for a moment, focusing her gaze at the dead center of Amberosin¡¯s pupil.


    ¡°But White¡¯s decree¡­¡±


    ¡°True, most men who make an offense are taken and publicly executed at some point or another¡­ but not until someone is brave and capable enough to stand up on their own. Not until someone else trusts the victimized party¡¯s word over the attacker. And as a woman in a recently shambled world¡­. You¡¯ll often find your word disputed for the simple fact that you lack a dangling sac between your legs.¡±


    Amberosin¡¯s gaze sat on the ground for a moment before she looked up and reconnected with Heria¡¯s eyes. ¡°Any way to tell which men to avoid?¡± She wasn¡¯t joking at all anymore. Her mouth was as straight as a line. Eyes lit aflame. Focused.


    ¡°Sometimes. Sometimes not. Sometimes they are subtle, so subtle in fact, that you won¡¯t even believe it. The best thing you can do is trust your intuition. We live on Mother Noctra. We are basked in the light of Mother Moon¡¯s all through the day and night. We, women, can tell when something is wrong in the world. Never let anyone make you doubt yourself, Amberosin. For now, I would stick to only trusting Ta¡¯K. No one else. Even in Trallengard.¡±


    Amberosin nodded, though there were plenty of questions and worries left painted on her face, and gave a gentle grin before laying her head on Heria¡¯s chest. ¡°I don¡¯t trust easily, Heria, don¡¯t worry¡­ but while we are on the subject of being women can you answer me one more question?¡±


    ¡°Of course, quickly though. Ta¡¯K is nearly done packing for the both of you.¡±


    ¡°Fucking gentleman.¡±


    ¡°Ha! Right you are. Now your question?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, uhm¡­. Do your ¡®parts¡¯ ever bleed¡­ for seemingly no reason?¡±


    ¡°Parts? Don¡¯t go getting bashful on me now, Amberosin. I can¡¯t help if you aren¡¯t more specific than that.¡± Heria grinned and scraped her cheek with a fang, sending blood down her chin. She moved back to keep it off of Amberosin. When Heria looked back down at the young woman her face was a brighter red than Heria¡¯s trail of blood.


    ¡°The¡­ lower parts?¡± Amberosin seemed genuinely confused. Thinking with great effort.


    Oh shit. Does she really not know? And then Heria remembered what she first thought of Amberosin. How she seemed like a feral, beastly young woman. In some ways, it seemed, she was. Out in the field with the others, Mezir¡¯s shared memories had included a great deal about Amberosin¡¯s mother, Alicena, and her unconventional teachings. Right¡­ Right.


    ¡°Are we talking inside or outside?¡±


    Amberosin¡¯s eyes widened as a shocking revelation overtook her face.


    Heria smiled, stifling laughter with a hand over her lips, and cleared her throat.


    ¡°The outside of what you¡¯ve got down there is called a vulva. The inside is called a vagina. If the vulva is bleeding-¡±


    ¡°The little lippy folds down there?¡±


    Heria grunted over a quick giggle. ¡°The labia are part of the inside and outside¡­ technically.¡±


    Amberosin thought for a moment. Behind her, Heria could see Ta¡¯K pulling two packs onto his shoulders before shaking his head and letting his metal hands hang in the air with his and Amberosin¡¯s luggage in tow.


    ¡°Hm¡­ well I guess it comes from inside, but it gets everywhere. A big fucking mess. And my insides crunch up and squeeze me until I want to scream. Sometimes I do scream. Only had it happen once so far but I¡¯d be just as glad if it never happened again.¡±


    Heria mentally scanned through all the texts she¡¯d read as Helena, nearly twenty years ago. She could see most of them as if they were right before her eyes. Nearly all were scribed and distributed by Argonia Slib, even the ones on women, oddly enough. She could see it there in her mind and was reciting the words before she realized their implications.


    ¡°The women of Noctra, like all of our gargantuan mother world¡¯s inhabitants, are extremely varied, inexplicably diverse, and despite contemporary thoughts on the matter, quite fearsome. They are also the sole reason that human and Alta life on Noctra persists to this day.¡± Ta¡¯K was beside Amberosin listening intently with his legs crossed, floating in mid-air. He reminded Heria of a child listening to a Weaver¡¯s tale. ¡°Every Legend, every monarch, every noble, and every peasant; each living being on this planet owes its existence to someone with biologically female ¡®innards¡¯. From the craggy rocks of Blancana¡¯s southernmost shores to the tips of the crystalline covered Shardlands above Trallengard, every biological female on Noctra is perpetually fertile. Decisive about which pregnancies she keeps and which she terminates. She is the ultimate decider. All she¡¯s. It''s astounding, truly. Long ago this was not the case, of course, at one point in time women were only fertile during small windows and they bled often when disposing of their unused eggs. Something ancient scholars have referred to as menstruation. While it seems evolution may have simply dropped the need for menstruation in women on Noctra, the sudden disappearance altogether is a bit questionable. Many sisters in Matria speak of a day when the true ¡°Blood Mother¡± shall return. Should that day ever come, I feel Lord Elias White may come to rue the day he defied the Grand Mother Matria.¡±


    Heria smiled and took a deep breath, reveling in the feeling she used to get when reading alone in a large windowed cove at her family''s estate. Then she saw Amberosin¡¯s face. Then she realized what she had just inadvertently implied. She blanched and shook her head.


    ¡°Sorry, I just mean to say, I¡¯ve never bled like that before but-¡±


    ¡°Oh Legends, that''s not what I want to hear!¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry!¡±


    ¡°Shut up!¡±


    They looked at each other before bursting out into squalling laughter, tears littering the ground. Ta¡¯K only looked back and forth between both women, obviously perplexed. His cluelessness only made the moment more hilarious for both women. Amberosin slapped Heria¡¯s furry forearm and snorted.


    ¡°Who the hell named it that, a vulva?¡±


    Heria squeaked, giddy and red, ¡°A man! A fucking man!¡±


    ***


    Ta¡¯K wrapped his arms tight around Heria who returned the embrace in kind. Behind her, between both of his floating hands that held their packs, Amberosin stood with her hands crossed in front of her like an unsure child awaiting their summons. He bid his left hand to release its load and placed it gently on her shoulder, ensuring to warm the touch before she felt it. A subtle invitation which she promptly accepted by sprinting and slamming into them.


    All three sobbed while clinging to each other. The fog was fading faster and dawn was quickly becoming morning. This was their goodbye, standing beneath a massive gigan-pine on the only bare patch of land to be seen for leagues. The duo emptied their eyes and wailed their laments, their wishes for one another, with single hard sobs and tightening grips. Ta¡¯K saw his hands waver behind Heria and fought the urge to steel and steady himself. He let them fall to the ground.


    This was their goodbye. He refused to cut it short. Ta¡¯K Cried with Amberosin and Heria until the last foggy particle ascended to an invisible solace high above. The trio likely would¡¯ve held onto one another until Luna rode across the sky with night fast on her heels had the Lumifaen not gathered, awaiting direction from their queen. Still, Heria held to her companions a few moments longer, letting Solas deepen the red of her reign for the day. They were young, afraid, broken, and in a worried kind of sense, excessively excited. When they let go the world would never be the same.


    When they let go nothing would ever be the same.

 Chapter Fifty

    Chapter Fifty


    White descended further into the underground prison two steps at a time. Contrary to the drab dust ridden tunnels and stone halls leading up to the entrance, the prison itself was nearly as immaculate as White¡¯s own estate. The lower he traveled, the wider the stairwell became. The higher the ceiling. This place and its lone inhabitant were his best kept secrets.


    Even from barely halfway down he could hear the shuffling of tomes sliding, pages turning, and an overture of a well inked pen scribbling down thoughts with a quickness White once thought had purely been for show. The increasingly large library of hand written tomes quickly dispelled any thoughts of the sort.


    Though still fuming from Reginald Enchans untimely- yet entirely necessary, execution- Lord White was legitimately excited for his upcoming visit. A quick chat with ¡°God¡± always lifted his spirits, and not only because he knew how totally his captive despised him. White often left their meetings with more than one epiphany. He always made his exit in a better mood than his arrival. His prisoner seemed to have grown quite aware of this fact as all along the sides of the ever widening staircase, made entirely of transparent crystalline stones that had once adorned White¡¯s estate in place of the now glittering marble, there were thousands of wysterian buds. Lord White¡¯s favorite flower.


    ¡°Where ever did you acquire all the seeds for such a marvelous display?¡± White spoke to himself as he ran an ungloved hand over the velvety wall of flowers. ¡°Smuggled in, all those years ago? But how?¡± He found himself still pondering possibilities as he stepped atop the last transparent stone stair, utterly lost within his own thoughts. It had been a while since he''d been given a good puzzle to solve. Quite a long while.


    What an unexpected blessing. Hah!


    Lord White, Grand Councilor of all remaining lands and people of Noctra, demolisher of the Ta¡¯ and Nomad races, hummed and skipped his way across an impeccably clean floor composed of the purest sandstone humanity had ever known. Here too, White¡¯s prisoner littered gargantuan bouquets of beautiful purple flowers that emitted iridescent light all about the otherwise empty loft. The next room was quite the same, albeit covered wall to wall with shelves, tables, desks, cabinets, and even a few wardrobes full of tomes.


    All written by White¡¯s captive. A true treasure trove of knowledge. Some days White wanted to burn them all, watch the ashes crackle and hiss as they died out, taking all that knowledge- that power- with them. Today, however, he relished in their sight; his mood only a tad bit hampered to know he would never get a chance to read them all.


    The rustling of paper stopped but the quill scribbling persisted.


    ¡°I was beginning to wonder if you¡¯d ever make your way back down here.¡±


    A shaggy head of white, red, and black hair hung down past the prisoners shoulders, tied back with a string torn from his own extravagant clothing. Each collection of twisted, dry dreads shone with a near imperceivable amethyst hue as torch light reflected off of it. His beard was much the same, tied and knotted in various manners in it¡¯s descent to the prisoner¡¯s lap. Today his eyes were a bright lilac with an iridescent iris and his skin tone seemed to shift beneath the estorches situated high above. One moment the prisoner¡¯s skin was a blazing mahogany, the next he looked like a native Trallen with red umber tones. It was almost as if White¡¯s eyes were playing tricks on him.


    As beautiful as ever.


    ¡°Do you intend to gawk at me like that the entire time or may we finally begin? I have much more work to do, as you are well aware. Elias!¡±


    White snapped to attention at the prisoner¡¯s raised voice and he met the man¡¯s intense glare with a childish smile and series of unrestrained laughter. When he could catch his breath once more White sat across from the prisoner¡¯s desk and waved a hand to the man before him who promptly scoffed and opened a thick tome. He flipped to a blank page, nearly at the leather bound journals end, and sighed.


    ¡°When we last spoke you told me you¡¯d sent the poor girl- Korrin- to spy on your lone Ta¡¯, correct?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± Impeccable memory, as always. Lord White chuckled louder than intended.


    ¡°Then begin from there, Elias.¡±


    ***


    He¡¯d spent the last eight years hoping he would never again see Lord Elias White¡¯s belligerently smiling face. His nightmares were populated with nothing other than the image of the vile man laughing away at his own triumphs and failures. Collateral damage be damned, Lord White always got what he wanted. Eventually.


    ¡° So¡­ You¡¯ve lost the Shadow child and Changeling child?¡±


    ¡°Marina and Senfe. Yes. I¡¯m still not quite sure on the events of Marina¡¯s passing other than Ragoth, who is at large, seems to be responsible for her untimely demise. Hah! Who would have thought?¡±


    Perhaps someone with a conscience. ¡°And Korrin?¡±


    Elias White smiled but the prisoner could see the Lord¡¯s fist clamp onto one another at the name. While his hands remained their natural tawny, orange-brown color, White¡¯s knuckles looked entirely fawn, pushing dangerously close to actually being white.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±


    The prisoner wrote a few notes down without saying a word.


    ¡°Alright then, we must speculate I suppose. For posterity''s sake we need a full picture. ¡±


    Elias sat forward and eyed him with stark white eyes for a moment, his smile never fading. Lord White¡¯s hand¡¯s began to tremble but he sighed and shook his head before sitting back.


    ¡°If you say we must, then we must. I suppose.¡±


    He noted that the following was speculation on his journal and peered over the top of the page at Elias.


    ¡°Begin, will you?¡±


    Anger flashed in Elias¡¯s eyes but vanished with a short, harsh chuckle.


    ¡°Yes¡­ alright then. I can only imagine that it is possible that I, presumably, underestimated the Ta¡¯s abilities.¡±


    ¡°Ta¡¯K.¡±


    ¡°I know his name.¡± White snapped. His lips twitched but did not falter into a frown.


    ¡°I underestimated Ta¡¯K¡¯s ability to connect others through essence. There was a moment in the fields where everyone within proximity to him simply froze. Every one of them sobbed holding to one another, even Amberosin! There is no way she saw anything, for reasons you are utterly aware of, but still she clung and cried. Bah. Afterward¡­ Heria and Korrin seemed to be aware of¡­ well, everything.¡±


    Elias let his gaze cast to the sandstone floor at their feet. His smile was present, though somehow seemed rueful.


    Serves you right, you sadistic bastard.


    ¡°Though, technically, did everything not go according to your own plan?¡±


    Lord White seemed to inflate, to lighten a little. He chuckled with a hand over his mouth.


    ¡°Yes, yes I guess you are right!¡± White laughed with a drunken gusto, one hand atop his mouth, the other his gut. Tears spilled from his crystalline like eyes and soaked the floor below him.


    The prisoner wrote all the while, eager to have the task done as soon as possible. Having Elias White as his one and only visitor over the years had given the prisoner an entirely newfound appreciation for solitude.


    ¡°Compose yourself, Elias. We are not finished yet.¡±


    At one point he would have never spoken to his dear friend in such a manner. He¡¯d always named everyone by their official titles in his works and did so in person as well. But he was tired. Old. Worn. If Elias White killed him for a sharp tongue now, then so be it.


    He wouldn¡¯t of course. Elias only laughed and dried his cheeks.


    ¡°Ah, you are such a refreshing presence to have around, old friend.¡±


    ¡°It truly warms my heart to hear you say so, Elias.¡±


    ¡°Hah! At least you know what to call me! Fucking fumbilng servants, soldiers, and nobles alike can¡¯t decide on a damn moni-¡±


    The prisoner cleared his throat.


    ¡°Right, right you are Argonia! Onward, forever onward!¡±


    White¡¯s jubilant exuberance made Argonia¡¯s back muscles tense.


    ¡°And what is onward, Elias? What is ahead of us now?¡±


    Elias White grinned from ear to ear as he rose from his chair.


    ¡°Why, the end of course. And a beginning. But, where I am most concerned¡­ the end approaches.¡± He donned his double horned Legends mask and slid two white leather gloves over his dry hands. ¡°And Argonia? The Eye hasn''t moved since that day.¡± He paused with a chuckle. ¡°I guess you were right afterall, old friend.¡±


    Argonia¡¯s quill scribbling rang out as White left to ascend the stairs back into the real world. When he heard the large metal doors close and click above he sighed heavily and slumped his shoulders. His quill finally stopped, for a succinct moment.


    ¡°Goodbye, Elias.¡±


    ***


    Argonia Slib always managed to leave Lord White with a gut sore from laughter and a heart burdened by grief. The man himself was a casual reminder that his best laid plans often left him lonely. Conflicted, at the least. However, Lord White was dedicated to his cause, no matter the pain it would bring his way. White was certain he would be the one to pave the way to Noctra¡¯s one and only chance at survival. He knew that if he failed he would witness the world¡¯s end. Elias White refused to stand idly by and watch the approaching destruction of everything he held dear. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    Never again. No matter the cost¡­ it will never happen again.


    Just as with his descent, White ascended the long stairwell taking two steps at a time. He ran his gloveless hand along the wall as far as the wysterian buds went and adorned his white leather gloves once more as he neared the top. Waiting for him outside of the first door to the underground prison was Reginald Enchan¡¯s headless corpse.


    ¡°Oh, Reginald¡­ I did love you so dearly. You fucking fool.¡±


    With a snap of Lord White¡¯s fingers Reginald Enchan¡¯s decapitated mass disintegrated, pooling blood and all, without so much as a gasp of dying essence. Unlike the onslaught of amatuer casters that now littered Noctra, none of White¡¯s essence disappeared. It all returned to him. He hated thinking of how he was going to break this to Reginald¡¯s wife and last remaining son. White couldn¡¯t help but cringe at how awkward a conversation that was going to turn out to be.


    Perhaps I could have someone else deliver the message¡­ no, no. I¡¯ve done that with the last three children and the woman is already grief stricken. I suppose it cannot be helped.


    White grumbled to himself as he approached the final door that led back into the public segments of the estate. The prospect did little to actually dampen his pleasant mood but he knew it would be something of a headache for him in the coming days. Lord White took a deep breath and stood as tall as he could, his own essence twirling around inside him to make his stature larger, straighter- domineering. Powerful.


    Once his image was set, Lord White knocked.


    One. Two. Three. Four- and the false wall slid open. No casting necessary, just good old fashioned engineering. White stepped out into the grand hall and sighed. Guards were stationed in groups of two, as always. One man, one woman. As always. Everything was fine on his grounds once more. Calm. As ever.


    Damned boring.


    Boring to White equated to slow, and slow was becoming increasingly unbearable for White. The last few thousand years had been slow. Every plan laid bared fruit, slowly. Every move made monumental changes, over time. A very long time. Elias White shook his head and for the first time in days admitted to himself that he was exhausted. There was nothing left to do now anyways, he had time for a quick break.


    Without so much as alerting his personal Serpints to his departure Lord Elias White turned with enough power to whip his heavy cape into a half circle and sped off to his chambers. The Serpints would notice eventually, of course, but White wanted to be alone for as much time as he could, for he was keenly aware of how busy the coming days would be. How chaotic. How bloody.


    Besides the point, White¡¯s chamber guards would alert their comrades sooner or later. The two Serpints assigned to him would be punished promptly by their commanding officer, of course, but he¡¯d save face with a quick word or two. A little pay bump or peaceful kitchen detail, any myriad of small favors here and there kept those guards White inconvenienced happy and loyal.


    And White was known to cause his Serpints problems quite frequently. Honestly, he couldn¡¯t help himself. Whether it was the power dynamic or just in his nature; White loved to play little tricks on his guards. To make the duties he assigned them just a tad bit more difficult. He believed it kept them on their toes. He couldn¡¯t have his best and brightest getting too comfortable as their comfort would ultimately lead to a lack of perseverance, of motivation to do better than they once believed they could. He felt he was quite fair otherwise, however. For example if his personal Serpints had followed him from the great hall after realizing he¡¯d disappeared, Lord White would not have reported their lack of attention to their commanding officer.


    No harm, no foul.


    To that end, Lord Elias White could hardly keep the giggling inside his mask from becoming too loud as he approached his chambers. He¡¯d cast around himself until he was certain no one would be able to see him, even if White happened to be standing directly in front of them. Then, he levitated a few inches from the ground and floated towards his massive white-washed wilder-oak door, ensuring there was no sign of his approach. The duo stationed in his room were newer recruits, nowhere near the skill or might of his Serpints, and they had absolutely no idea about Lord Elias White and his asinine antics.


    Lord White was ecstatic as he slowly floated to the outside of his chamber doors and stifled a hard laugh.


    Retilla Truin and Feznir Huilion.


    He reminded himself of the young guards'' names, conjuring their visages in the forefront of his mind. Retilla was a tall, slender woman, no older than twenty from some new noble family or another. She was lean with bulging muscles beneath deep mahogany skin. She¡¯d dabbed her cheeks with pink blush during her initiation and White thought it complemented her light hair well. A ferocious, distant descendant of a bastardized family in Trallengard, he¡¯d immediately thought of using her as a spy should she prove competent enough. Feznir, on the other hand, was quite a short, stout young fellow with patchy hair under his chin. He¡¯d scarcely made it to initiation on time and had word a shirt that seemed to have been made entirely of burlap. His family was of absolutely no consequence, but he was sharp. White instantly knew they could do great things together. He had an eye for such things. Always had.


    Retilla and Feznir¡¯s first great story- and I¡¯ll be the star!


    Elias White was as giddy as a rotund child given access to the bakery after hours. He longed to burst through the door and create a terrifying ruckus, to scare the young guards badly enough that they ran to get help. When they returned, however, they would find their Lord White sleeping soundly in his bed amidst the chaotic mess of papers, pillows, and trinkets abound.


    Yes. Yes! Fantastic!


    With his antics properly planned Elias¡¯s excitement began to peak and he was sure he¡¯d release a sound akin to a boiling tea kettle if he didn¡¯t move now. Even through that excitement though, caution reared its head before him. An instinct he¡¯d beaten into his own core over an insufferably long lifetime.


    Check your surroundings, nimrod. Are you trying to die?


    No. No, in fact, he was not. Not quite yet at least.


    Willing his own essence into the mask atop his head prompted an entirely new view. A square outlined everything in his sight, currently, that was his chamber door.


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Wilderoak: 80 percent composition. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Marble: 20 percent composition. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400"> Integrity: 100 percent.</li>


    </ul>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Object: Door. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Danger: None. </li>


    </ul>


    <ul>


    <li style="font-weight: 400">Essence: None. </li>


    </ul>


    The letters flashing on the inside of his mask were all green, indicating that all was safe and well, as it should be. Though still, his body refused to move. Once more he chided himself.


    Relying solely on your mask now, are we? You old fool. Look again.


    ¡°Essence: None.¡± An impossible sentiment. Essence was everywhere. Within everyone and everything on Noctra. He¡¯d spent years ensuring that would one day be irrefutable fact. The cost had been greater than Lord White could ever have imagined but in the end he successfully ensured that every living being on Noctra would have access to essence. To power. White wished daily that to do so had not cost so many lives, the lives of friends and contemporaries- the entirety of the Venerable Ta¡¯ who taught him so much of what he knew of magic and life- but time was running short and the Ta¡¯ people hoarded more essence than any other people on Noctra.


    Unwittingly, of course, but no less absolutely.


    Lord White always did what was necessary for the whole of Noctra. No matter the cost.


    The only possible explanation, then, would be that someone or something was concealing their presence. Or attempting to at the least. The lack of essence also meant that Retilla and Feznir were most definitely dead, their essence siphoned, residing now within the body of the mysteriously hidden third party.


    Mystery, mystery, mystery for me. What an interesting day indeed!


    Elias White released the essence about and underneath him, dropping silently to the marble steps at his feet and casting his invisibility away. He stood facing the closed door before him, to his own chambers, with a building tickling tingle shooting down to the tips of his fingers. Excitement was preying upon his body so viciously that he nearly threw the door open wide and charged in just to appease his inflamed curiosity. But Elias could not, for though Elias he was, he was first and foremost, Lord White. Lord White never took a step forward without some semblance of a plan. It was the only reason he was still alive.


    Why do I feel the need to knock? Hah! Curious as ever.


    Lord White tapped his double horned, smooth white mask, twice on the right side. With a hiss, crack, and a litany of snapping gears, the back opened and began to seemingly consume the rest. When it had finished the massive Legends mask was nothing more than a small cube in his hand. White wanted to piece this puzzle together himself, no crutches or aides.


    Might as well truly leave this one up to chance, yeah?


    He smiled wildly, multiple pointed teeth scraping across one another, dwarfing his still human looking molars, despite all being the same size. It had taken him years to learn how to avoid cutting himself on the gums after he filed them all in his youth. Eventually, he settled on using essence to will the teeth to a more appropriate size. It had been even more painful than filing them, though also much more effective. White had been able to watch them morph in a mirror. It took a matter of minutes.


    Lord Elias White, Grand councilor took a deep, loud breathe in, held it for four, and exhaled for four. His cheeks suddenly twitched on each side, entirely of their own volition and caused his smile to look much more sincere, though no less vindictive. No less terrifying. Without the mask on he¡¯d been able to catch a subtle scent that he¡¯d come to know well throughout his time on Noctra and that narrowed the possibilities substantially.


    ¡°Is that¡­. Yes¡­ I believe it must be gigan-pine I¡¯ve caught a whiff of!¡± White giggled and inched the ornate door before him open with hands at either side. The prolonged entrance probably did nothing but  build his own excitement, steeping the few moments of mystery in an unnecessary suspense, but White thought it may also serve to help him solve the mystery before his guests exposed themselves.


    There weren¡¯t many he knew left alive that would ever have that lovely scent on them. Fewer still would smell like they¡¯d bathed in the massive trees sap for years on end. It was almost too easy at this point.


    ¡°Ji-Hu, you treacherous little fiend, is that you?¡± The door had only just opened enough for White to spot his own bed. To see the figure sitting there. The filled out, muscular, and definitely human sized, figure was but a shadow with the lights in White¡¯s chambers set so low. Lord White snapped and lit the intruder ablaze in nearly perfect white light, tainted ever so gingerly by a gold sheen from his chamber''s lovely trim.


    For the first time in what had to be decades, centuries even, Elias White dropped his vicious, vindictive, lovely, terrifying smile and stood expressionless. His lively white eyes that glittered with the colors of all knowable essence fell flat, consumed by pitch black pupils which widened to the point that the light of his chamber began to burn. To turn him away from his own personal abode. His sanctuary.


    No! No! Look. Look and be pained. Be burned. You will survive. You always survive.


    Lord White¡¯s eyes had closed completely, opening slowly, painfully squinting tight like a babe¡¯s under too-bright torch light in the first moments of their life. The glimpse he¡¯d gotten had to be wrong. Had to be a trick of some sort. It wasn¡¯t impossible, though as his eyes opened, his vision cleared and pushed the fuzzy fluff out of his vision and White could not deny the reality before him.


    ¡°Hello father.¡± Mezir smiled, the top half of his face hidden behind a black metal teardrop mask that stank of belligerent defiance.


    White¡¯s rage couldn¡¯t push past his shock however, not enough to manifest at the least. His eyes danced across Mezir¡¯s bulking body, his exposed skin bulging with a barely reserved rage, tense like an animal ready to strike.


    ¡°You¡­ you were to have left. You are far, far too early, you stupid boy!¡± Lord White¡¯s heart raced in a symphony of hate-rage-pain-worry-fear. His guts dropped, his teeth barred. His rage was seeping through. The love for his son he¡¯d felt at one point overshadowed by the barrage of feelings bounding about in his heaving chest.


    ¡°And that scent, what the hell is that? Where is Ji-Hu? I know that scent. Boy!¡±


    Mezir only laughed as Elias White frantically scanned his son¡¯s massive body, looking for any sign of the small Lumifaen. White snarled and had to catch himself before he lunged. Mezir would be prepared. He would have a plan. A trap. Just as White had taught him.


    Four count in, four count hold, four count out. White¡¯s chest slowed. Mezir¡¯s smile only grew. It made him look like a mischievous child at the cheeks, though the thick beard dispelled that illusion quickly.


    ¡°It did take me a moment, I admit, to realize why Ji-Hu¡¯s signature looked so familiar. The way their essence moved, swirled, consumed¡­.¡± Mezir tipped his head forward, ¡° A pretty impressive feat if I do say so myself, but father, how ever did you make it work? I imagine Ji-Hu¡¯s parents were no larger, so the only logical conclusion I can come upon is if they weren¡¯t big enough for intercourse, you would have to be small enough. Hah! Guess some things aren¡¯t as hereditary as I assumed!¡± Mezir grabbed his midsection and laughed with a hearty air.


    It reminded White of himself as a younger man. A painful string twinged in his heart, though only for a moment. The rage swelled once more.


    ¡°You insolent-¡± White couldn¡¯t find the words, he didn¡¯t want to breathe now- ¡°how dare you-¡± he couldn¡¯t believe he was so upset at such childish jib, though that was what Mezir was best at, getting under people¡¯s skin, so to speak, ¡° I¡­ I¡­¡±


    Lord White fell silent as he looked down to Mezir¡¯s large metal fist, held just past his knee like he was waiting for a friend at the pub. No tension there. Just cold metal.


    And limp wings hanging between his closed fingers.